‘They know best, and I’m afraid they know why also. Oh dear, oh dear! if there’s anything the world makes no progress in, it’s the science of medicine. Everybody now dies of what we all used to have when I was a boy! Sore throats, smallpox, colic, are all fatal since they’ve found out Greek names for them, and with their old vulgar titles they killed nobody.’
‘Gorman is certainly in a bad way, and Dr. Rogan says it will be some days before he could pronounce him out of danger.’
‘Can he be removed? Can we take him back with us to Kilgobbin?’
‘That is utterly out of the question; he cannot be stirred, and requires the most absolute rest and quiet. Besides that, there is another difficulty—I don’t know if they would permit us to take him away.’
‘What! do you mean, refuse our bail?’
‘They have got affidavits to show old Gill’s life’s in danger; he is in high fever to-day, and raving furiously, and if he should die, McEvoy declares that they’ll be able to send bills for manslaughter, at least, before the grand-jury.’
‘There’s more of it!’ cried Kilgobbin, with a long whistle. ‘Is it Rogan swears the fellow is in danger?’
‘No, it’s Tom Price, the dispensary doctor; and as Miss Betty withdrew her subscription last year, they say he swore he’d pay her off for it.’
‘I know Tom, and I’ll see to that,’ said Kearney. ‘Are the affidavits sworn?’
‘No. They are drawn out; McEvoy is copying them now; but they’ll be ready by three o’clock.’