Daly bowed, and answered, “The same, madam.”
A low, faint sigh broke from Lady Eleanor, and, covering her eyes with her hand, she sat for some moments without speaking.
“Has any one seen him, sir?” asked Helen, suddenly, and in a voice that showed energy of character had the mastery over every feeling of grief,—“is there a surgeon with him?”
“No, Miss Darcy,” said Daly, with a certain haughtiness of manner. “I believe, however, that, although not a professional person, my knowledge of a gunshot wound is scarcely inferior to most men's. I have sent in two directions for a surgeon; meanwhile, with my servant's aid, I have succeeded in extracting the ball—I beg pardon, ladies, I think I heard the noise of wheels; it is probably the doctor.” And, with a deep bow and a measured step, Mr. Bagenal Daly withdrew, leaving Lady Eleanor and her daughter speechless, between grief and terror.
CHAPTER VIII. THE “HEAD” OF A FAMILY
When Bagenal Daly reached the courtyard, he was disappointed at finding that, instead of the surgeon whose arrival was so anxiously looked for, the visitor was no other than old Dr. Hickman, the father of Hickman O'Reilly, M. P. for the county, and grandfather of that very promising young gentleman slightly presented to our reader in an early chapter.
If the acorn be a very humble origin for the stately oak of the forest, assuredly Peter Hickman, formerly of Loughrea, “Apothecary and Surgeon,” was the most unpretending source for the high and mighty house of O'Reilly. More strictly speaking, the process was only a “graft,” and it is but justice to him to say, that of this fact no one was more thoroughly convinced than old Peter himself. Industry and thrift had combined to render him tolerably well off in the world, when the death of a brother who had sought his fortunes in the East—when fortunes were to be found in that region—put him in possession of something above two hundred thousand pounds. Even before this event, he had been known as a shrewd contriver of small speculations, a safe investor of little capital, was conversant, from the habits of his professional life, with the private circumstances of every family of the country where money was wanting, and where repayment was sure; the very temperament of his patients suggested to him the knowledge by which he guided his operations, and he could bring his skill as a medical man into his service, and study his creditors with the eye of a physiologist. When this great accession of wealth so suddenly occurred, far from communicating his good fortune to his friends and neighbors, he merely gave out that poor Tom had left him “his little savings,” “though God knows, in that faraway country, if he'd ever see any of it.” His guarded caution on the subject, and the steady persistence with which he maintained his former mode of life, gave credence to the story, and the utmost estimate of his wealth would not have gone beyond being a snug old fellow “that might give up his business any day.” This was, however, the very last thing in his thoughts; the title of “Doctor,” so courteously bestowed in Ireland on the humbler walks of medicine, was a “letter of marque” enabling him to cruise in latitudes otherwise inaccessible. Any moneyed embarrassment of the country gentry, any severe pressure to be averted by an opportune loan or the sale of landed property, was speedily made available by him as a call to see whether “the cough was easier;” or “how was the gouty ankle;” if the “mistress was getting better of the nerves,” “and the children gaining strength by the camomile.” And in this way he made one species of gain subservient to another, while his character for kindness and benevolence was the theme of the whole neighborhood.
For several years long he pursued this course without deviating, and in that space had become the owner of estated property to a very great extent, not only in his own, but in three neighboring counties. How much longer he might have persisted in growing rich by stealth it is difficult to say, when accident compelled him to change his tactique. A very large property had been twice put up for sale in the county Mayo, under the will of its late owner, the trustees being empowered to make a great reduction in the price to any purchaser of the whole,—a condition which, from the great value of the estates, seemed of little avail, no single individual being supposed able to make such a purchase.
At last, and as a final effort to comply with the wishes of the testator, the estate was offered at ten thousand pounds below the original demand, when a bidder made his appearance, the offer was accepted, and the apothecary of Lough-rea became the owner of one of the most flourishing properties of the West, with influence sufficient to return a member for the county.