“Disinherit me, will you, father?” came the sudden voice of Standish echoing strangely down the dark room. Then he rose and stood facing both men at the table, the red glare of the log mixing with the sickly candlelight upon his face and quivering hands. “Disinherit me?” he said again, bitterly. “You cannot do that. I wish you could. My inheritance, what is it? Degradation of family, proud beggary, a life to be wasted outside the world of life and work, and a death rejoiced over by those wretches who have lent you money. Disinherit me from all this, if you can.”
“Holy Saint Malachi, hare the sonn of The Macnamaras talkin' loike a choild!” cried The Randal.
“I don't care who hears me,” said Standish. “I'm sick of hearing about my forefathers; no one cares about them nowadays. I wanted years ago to go out into the world and work.”
“Work—a Macnamara work!” cried The Randal horror-stricken.
“I told you so,” said The Macnamara, in the tone of one who finds sudden confirmation to the improbable story of some enormity.
“I wanted to work as a man should to redeem the shame which our life as it is at present brings upon our family,” said the young man earnestly—almost passionately; “but I was not allowed to do anything that I wanted. I was kept here in this jail wasting my best years; but to-day has brought everything to an end. You say you will disinherit me, father, but I have from this day disinherited myself—I have cast off my old existence. I begin life from to-day.”
Then he turned away and went out of the room, leaving his father and his guest in dumb amazement before their punch. It was some minutes before either could speak. At last The Randal took adraught of the hot spirit, and shook his head thoughtfully.
“Poor boy! poor boy! he needs to be looked after till he gets over this turn,” he said.
“It's all that girl—that Daireen of the Geralds,” said The Macnamara. “I found a paper with poetry on it for her this morning, and when I forced him he confessed that he was in love with her.”
“D'ye tell me that? And what more did ye do, Mac?”