“And is ju-justice better administered for all that?” cried Purvis.
“To be sure it is. Isn't the laws made to expose villany, and not let people be imposed upon? Sure it's not to hang Paddy Blake you want, but to keep others from following his example. And many 's the time in Ireland when, what between the blunderin' of the Crown lawyers, the flaws of the indictment, the conscientious scruples of the jury,—you know what that means,—and the hurry of the judge to be away to Harrogate or Tunbridge, a villain gets off. But, instead of going out with an elegant bran-new character, a bit of a joke—a droll word spoken during the trial—sticks to him all his life after, till it would be just as well for him to be hanged at once as be laughed at, from Pill-Lane to the Lakes of Killarney. Don't I remember well when one of the Regans—Tim, I think it was—was tried for murder at Tralee; there was a something or other they could n't convict upon. 'T was his grandfather's age was put down wrong, or the color of his stepmother's hair, or the nails in his shoes wasn't described right,——whatever it was, it was a flaw, as they called it; and a flaw in a brief, like one in a boiler, leaves everybody in hot water. “Not Guilty,” says the jury, 'for we can't agree.'
“''Tis a droll verdict,' says O'Grady, for he was the judge. 'What d' ye mean?'
“'Most of us is for hanging, my Lord; but more of us would let him off.'
“'What will you do, Mr. Attorney?' says the judge. 'Have you any other evidence to bring forward?' And the Attorney-General stooped down and began whispering with the bench. 'Very well,' says the judge, at last, 'we 'll discharge him by proclamation.'
“'Wait a minute, my Lord,' says ould Blethers, who got five guineas for the defence, and had n't yet opened his mouth. 'Before my respected but injured client leaves that dock, I call to your Lordship, in the name and on behalf of British justice,—I appeal to you, by the eternal principles of our glorious Constitution, that he may go forth into the world with a reputation unstained and a character unblemished.'
“'Not so fast, Mister Blethers,' says old Grady,——'not so fast I 'm going over Thieve-na-muck Mountain tonight, and, with the blessing of God, I 'll keep your unblemished friend where he is till morning.' Now you see the meaning of what I was telling you. 'T is like tying a kettle to a dog's tail.”
It is not quite clear to us whether Purvis comprehended the story or appreciated the illustration; but he smiled, and smirked, and looked satisfied, for Peter's wine was admirable, and iced to perfection. Indeed, the worthy Scroope, like his sister, was already calculating how to “improve the occasion,” and further cultivate the esteem of one whose hospitable dispositions were so excellent. It was just at this moment that Martha glided behind Purvis's chair, and whispered a word in his ear. Whatever the announcement, it required some repetition before it became quite palpable to his faculties, and it was only after about five minutes that his mind seemed to take in all the bearings of the case.
“Oh, I ha-have it!” cried he. “That's it, eh?” And he winked with a degree of cunning that showed the most timely appreciation of the news.
“Would n't the young lady sit down and take something?” said Dalton, offering a seat “A glass of sweet wine? They 've elegant Tokay here.”