“But how far are you taking him?”
“O, ’tis myself would offer a pather an’ ave on my two binded knees for yer honour’s soul, if yer honour would tell me that. I forgot to ax the crathur where he should be berrid when we kim away, an’ now he’s speechless out an’ out.”
“Come, say where is your residence,” said the other, whose suspicion was increased by the countryman’s prevarication.
“By jamine, yer honour’s larnin’ bothers me intirely; but if yer honour manes where the woman that owns me and the childre is, ’tis that way, west at Tubber-na-Treenoda; yer honour has heard tell o’ Tubber-na-Treenoda, by coorse?”
“Never, indeed.”
“O, wisha! don’t let yer honour be a day longer that way. If the sickness, God betune us an’ harum, kim an ye, ’twould be betther for yer honour give a testher to the durhogh there, to offer up a rosary for ye, than to shell out three pounds to Doctor Crump.”
“Perhaps you have some soft goods concealed under the sick man,” said the guager, approaching the car. “I frequently catch smuggled wares in such situations.”
“The devil a taste good or saft under him, sir dear, but the could sop from the top o’ the stack. Ketch! why, the devil a haporth ye’ll ketch here but the spotted faver.”
“Fever!” repeated the startled exciseman, retiring a step or two.
“Yes, faver, yer honour; what else? Didn’t Father Darby that prepared him say that he had spotted faver enough for a thousand min! Do, yer honour, come look in his face, an’ thin throw the poor dying crathur, that kem all the way from Decie’s counthry, by raisin of a dhream, to pay a round for his wife’s sowl at Tubber-na-Treenoda: yes, throw him out an the belly o’ the road, an’ let his blood, the blood o’ the stranger, be on yer soul an’ his faver in yer body.”