MARY.
I had not proceeded far on my journey, when I was overtaken by Eugene—‘I have some little business in town,’ said he, ‘and I may as well accompany you.’ In the course of our conversation, I took occasion to revert to his sister Mary, whose character had made a strong impression on my mind,—‘She has too much feeling,’ said he, ‘for her own happiness; she lives in a constant state of excitement of one kind or another, which her scanty knowledge of the world has not been sufficient to subdue. Time and experience, however, may rectify that fault.’
‘Good-morrow to you, Master Eugene,’ said a countryman who was working in a field by the road side.
‘Good-morrow, Rooney,’ said Eugene. ‘Have you got every thing put to rights again?’
‘Indeed I have, sir; but it’s yourself I have to thank for it. May my blessing and the blessing of God attend you and yours wherever you go.’
‘I will call in and see you as I come back.’
‘Arrah do, master—don’t forget.’
‘That poor fellow,’ said Eugene, as we passed on, ‘had his house burned some time since, by a band of those deluded wretches who infest the country. I have several times introduced myself at their meetings, for the purpose of reasoning with them on the wickedness and folly of their proceedings; and some of the most rational of them have been induced, through my persuasion, to live peaceably; but others have threatened to attack my own house, for daring to interfere with them. I might, by giving information to the magistrate, have had the ringleaders apprehended; but besides having the national horror of an informer, I am well aware that it would be productive of no good in the country.
‘On several occasions, by receiving timely information, I have been able to prevent the execution of their revenge; but in poor Rooney’s case I was too late.
‘Some time ago, a number of people in the neighbourhood lost possession of their small farms, through means of a pettifogging scoundrel of an attorney, who, by paying a large fine to the agent, took the land on lease, over their heads; the consequence was, that their little farms (previously too high) were raised in rent to double the sum. In this extremity they came to the resolution of resisting the advance of rent; the consequence was that they were forcibly ejected, and tenants brought from a distance to replace them, many of whom being intimidated by anonymous threatenings posted on their doors, or conveyed by letters, abandoned the houses; but others, and among the rest Rooney, the individual whom we have just now passed, determined to keep possession and defend themselves against all who might dare to molest them. Rooney’s obstinacy induced the Shanavests to resolve on forcing him out, and with that purpose they paid him a midnight visit; but he and his son were ready for them, and in answer to their summons to open the door, he gave them the contents of a blunderbuss. This exasperated them to the highest pitch, and they used their utmost efforts to burst the door open; but here he was also prepared, having barricaded the passage with the heavy parts of his furniture. I was informed of the intended attack by Billy M’Daniel, who had heard some hints of it from those concerned, and I hastened to the house to endeavour to save the poor people from their fury. When I arrived, they had succeeded in forcing the door, but were still impeded in their entrance by the things which Rooney had piled in the passage. I beseeched, I entreated them to desist; but my voice was drowned in the vociferations and noise of the wretches, whose evil passions were now roused to extremity. One rascal (I know him well) had ran to a neighbouring cottage for a light, and now attempted to hold a bundle of flaming straw to the inside of the roof, for the purpose of setting it on fire; regardless of the danger to which I was exposing myself, I knocked him down with my stick, but a blow on my head from some one behind laid me senseless on the spot. When I recovered, the burning roof of the cottage was falling about me; fear lent me strength, and I sprung to my feet, when my ear was struck with the cries of a child. I plunged forward through the smoke to the place from whence the sound proceeded, and in a settle bed, surrounded by burning thatch and rafters, I found the poor innocent nearly suffocated. It was the work of a moment to snatch it up and bear it to the door, where I met the despairing mother, and threw it into her arms.