“Can’t you talk sense, Patsy Devlin?”
“It’s the truth I’m telling you, and I couldn’t say different if I was put on my oath this minute.”
“But, damn it all, I’m not murdered; I’m alive.”
“That may be,” said Patsy. “All I know is that Lord Manton’s after telling the young lady that you are murdered; and what’s more, he said it was Jimmy O’Loughlin and myself that done it.”
“Tell me the truth now, Patsy. Is Miss Blow in Clonmore?”
“She is.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“I am sure. She came the day after you went to America. Why wouldn’t I be sure when she has the whole of us riz ever since with the questions she did be asking about you; and not one in the place but told her lies, be the same more or less, for fear the creature would break her heart if she heard what you were after doing. And at the latter end his lordship told her we had murdered you, to quiet her like, for fear she might hear that you had gone to America, leaving her behind you, without ever a word to her, good nor bad.”
“Good God, man! But I haven’t gone to America.”