“What,” said Hugh, wildly clenching his hands, “Mother of glory, have I killed both? Oh, Felix, Felix! you are happy, you are happy, agra, brother; but for me, oh, for me, my hour of mercy is past an' gone. I can never look to heaven more! How can I live,” he muttered furiously to himself, “how can I live? and I daren't die. O God! O God! my brain's turnin'. I needn't pray to God to curse the hand that struck you dead, Felix dear, for I feel this minute that His curse is on me.”
Felix was borne in, but no arm would Hugh suffer to encircle him but his own. Poor Maura recovered and although in a state of absolute distraction, yet she had presence of mind to remember that they ought to use every means in their power to restore the boy to life if it were possible. Water was got, with which his face was sprinkled; in a little time he breathed, opened his eyes, looked mournfully about him, and asked what had happened him. Never was pardon to the malefactor, nor the firm tread of land to the shipwrecked mariner, so welcome as the dawn of returning life in Felix was to his brother. The moment he saw the poor youth's eyes fixed upon him, and heard his voice, he threw himself on his knees at the bedside, clasped him in his arms, and with an impetuous tide of sensations, in which were blended joy, grief, burning affection, and remorse, he kissed his lips, strained him to his bosom, and wept with such agony, that poor Felix was compelled to console him.
“Oh! Felix, Felix,” exclaimed Hugh “what was it I did to you? or how could the devil out of hell tempt me to—to—to—oh! Felix agra, say you're not hurted—say only that you'll be as well as ever, an I take God and every one present to witness, that from this minute till the day of my death, a harsh word 'll never crass my lips to you. Say you're not hurted, Felix dear! Don't you know, Felix, in spite of my dark-temper's putting me into a passion with you sometimes, that I always loved you?”
“Yes you did, Hugh,” replied Felix, “an' I still knew you did. I didn't often contradict you, because I knew, too, that the passion would soon go off of you, and that you'd be kind to me again.”
“Yeah, yeelish,” said the other, while the scalding tears flowed profusely down his cheeks, and the deep sobs almost choked him. “Oh, yeah, yeelish! what could come over me! As judgment's before me, he was the best brother ever God created—you were, Felix darling—you were, you were!” He again pressed him to his heart, and kissed his lips with an overwhelming fulness of remorse and love.
“An' another thing, Felix dear—but first tell me are you gettin' betther?”
“I am,” replied the youth, “my head is a little confused, but I have no pain.”
Hugh raised his hands and streaming eyes to heaven.
“Thanks, thanks, oh thanks an' praise be to God for that news! thanks an' praise be to you, blessed Father, for what he has said this minute, for it takes the weight, the dead crushin' weight that lay on my heart, off it. And now, Felix jewel, here, alanna, lay over your head upon my breast, an' I'll hould you anything I whisper into your own ear what 'll make you as stout as ever—keep away all of yees—the nerra one o' ye 'll hear it but himself. Sure, Felix dear,” he continued, in a lower voice, “sure I'm willin' that you should marry your own Alley Bawn. An' listen, sure, I'll give her a portion myself—I'm able to do it an' I will too.”
Felix, on hearing her name, looked around and endeavored, as appeared by his manner, to collect himself. He put his hand to his head for a moment and his eyes were without meaning. Hugh observed it, and felt his grief instantly checked by a fearful surmise as to a possible consequence of the blow which he had not contemplated.