“Hit it! Barring the shot scatters terrible I’ll put every grain of it into some part of you if you stay where you are this minute.”
“I’ll not be in this chair at the time,” said Sweeny. “I’ll be in the bed, and what shots come into the room will go over me with the way you’ll be shooting. But any way I’ll have the mattress and the blankets rolled up between me and harm. It’ll be all the better if there’s a few grains in the mattress.”
“I don’t know,” said Peter Walsh, “that I’ll be much nearer drowning the strange gentleman after I’ve shot you. But sure I’ll do it if you like.”
“When you have that done,” said Sweeny, “and you’d better be quick about it—you’ll go down to the barrack and tell Sergeant Rafferty that he’s to come round here as quick as he can. The missus’ll meet him at the door of the shop and she’ll tell him what’s happened.”
“I suppose then you’ll offer bail for me,” said Peter Walsh, “for if you don’t, no other one will, and it’ll be hard for me to go out upsetting boats if they have me in gaol for murdering you.”
“It’s not that she’ll tell him, but a kind of a distracted story. She’ll have very little on her at the time. She has no more than an old night dress and a petticoat this minute. I’m sorry now she has the petticoat itself. If I’d known what would have to be I’d have kept it from her. It doesn’t be natural for a woman to be dressed up grand when a lot of murdering ruffians from behind the bog has been shooting her husband half the night.”
“Bedam,” said Peter Walsh, “is that the way it is?”
“It is that way. And I wouldn’t wonder but there’ll be questions asked about it in Parliament after.”
“You’ll be wanting the doctor,” said Peter Walsh, “to be picking the shot out of you.”
“As soon as ever you’ve got the sergeant,” said Sweeny, “you’ll go round for the doctor.”