“Troth, sir, he had too suspicious a look; for how did I know but it's a bullet I'd get into, me, if I was only seen obsarvin' or watchin' him?”
“Then you did not speak to him?” asked Fergus.
“Faith, you may swear that, sir; that is not the time to pick up strange acquaintances.”
The two young friends were now satisfied of Hourigan's falsehood, and perhaps of his treachery; and a very slight but significant glance to that effect passed between them.
“Well, well,” said the magistrate, “we—I mane myself, at any rate—are well able to protect ourselves. I shall not in future travel unarmed, and he that—hem—ahem—he that will mistake me for a timid man will find out his error maybe when it's too late. Come, Hourigan, what charge is this you have against Mr. Purcel?”
“Plaise your honor, he abused, and assaulted, and bate me until I didn't know for a time whether I was alive or dead.”
“How was that, Hourigan, sir?”
“Bekaise, your honor, I had not my tides for him.”
“Now that I look at you, you certainly have the marks of violence about you. Well, but did you give no provocation, sir? It's not likely Mr. Purcel would raise his hand to you if he had not resaved strong provocation at yours.”
“Sorra word, then, your honor, ever I said to him,—barrin' to tell him that I hoped he'd have compassion on me and my little family, and not drive us to ruin for what I wasn't able to pay. He then asked me, was that the answer I had for him, and not his money, and he does no more but ups wid his whip and laves me as you see me.”