“The truth is, Connor, you want to make me a go-between—a blackfoot; very well, I'll do that same on your account, an' do it well, too, I hope.”
It was then arranged that Flanagan, who was personally known to some of the Bodagli's servants, should avail himself of that circumstance, and contrive to gain an interview with Una, in order to convey her a letter from O'Donovan. He was further enjoined by no means to commit it to the hands of any person save those of Una herself, and, in the event of his not being able to see her, then the letter was to be returned to Connor. If he succeeded, however, in delivering it, he was to await an answer, provided she found an opportunity of sending one; if not, she was to inform Connor, through Flanagan, at what time and place he could see her. This arrangement having been made, Connor immediately wrote the letter, and, after having despatched Flanagan upon his errand, set himself to perform, by his individual labor, the task which his father had portioned out for both. Ere Bartle's return, Fardorougha came to inspect their progress in the meadow, and, on finding that the servant was absent, he inquired sharply into the cause of it.
“He's gone on a message for me,” replied Connor, with the utmost frankness.
“But that's a bad way for him to mind his business,” said the father.
“I'll have the task that you set both of us finished,” replied the son, “so that you'll lose nothin' by his absence, at all events.”
“It's wrong, Connor, it's wrong; where did you sind him to?”
“To Bodagh Buie's wid a letter to Una.”
“It's a waste of time, an' a loss of work; about that business I have something to say to your mother an' you to—night, afther the supper, when the rest goes to bed.”
“I hope, father,you'll do the dacent thing still.”
“No; but I hope, son, you'll do the wise thing still; how—an—ever let me alone now; if you expect me to do anything, you mustn't drive me as your mother does. To-night we'll make up a plan that'll outdo Bodagh Buie. Before you come home, Connor, throw a stone or two in that gap, to prevent the cows from gettin' into the hay; it won't cost you much throuble. But, Connor, did you ever see sich a gut as Bartle has? He'll brake me out o'house an' home feedin' him; he has a stomach for ten-penny-nails; be my word it 'ud be a charity to give him a dose of oak bark to make him dacent; he's a divil at aitin', an' little good may it do him!”