“Simply by forgiving him, sir—by lettin' the great, big, ignorant hathen, have the full benefit of a gospel forgiveness. That's what I mean, sir, and surely it stands to sense that I couldn't prosecute him wid these feelin's, barrin' I'd go against the Word.”
“O'Drive,” said Lucre, evidently mortified at Darby's obstinacy, “one of two things is true; either you are utterly ignorant, perhaps, with every disposition to know them, of the sanctions and obligations of religion, or you are still a Papist at heart, and an impostor. I tell you, sir, once more, that it is upon religious grounds that you ought to prosecute this wild priest; because in doing so, you render a most important service to religion and morality, both of which are outraged in his person. You ought to know this. Again, sir, if you are a Protestant, and have thoroughly cast Popery from your heart, you must necessarily be a loyal man and a good subject; but if you refuse to prosecute him, you can be neither the one nor the other, but a Papist and an impostor, and I've done with you. If Mr. M'Clutchy knew, sir, that you refused to prosecute a priest for such a violent outrage upon your person, I imagine you would not long hold the situation of bailiff under him.”
Darby looked into the floor like a philosopher solving a problem. “I see, sir,” said he, “I see—well—you have made that clear enough sartinly; but you know, sir, how could you expect such deep raisoning upon these subjects from a man like me. I see the duty of it now clearly; but, when, sir, on the other hand if I prosecute him, what's to become of me? Will you, sir, bear my funeral expenses?”
“Every penny, O'Drive,” replied the other, eagerly. “Tut,” he exclaimed, checking himself, “I—I—I thought you meant the expenses of the prosecution.”
“It's much the same, sir,” replied Darby, “the one will be sure to follow the other. You know the state the country's in now, sir, and how the people on both sides are ready to skiver one another about this religion, and rents and tithes, and dear knows what besides. As it is, sir,” he proceeded, “you see that I dursn't walk the road without these,” and he produced the pistols as he spoke, “but what chance, sir, would I have if I prosecuted a priest? Why, my life wouldn't be worth two hours' purchase.”
Mr. Lucre himself could not help feeling and admitting the truth of this, but as he could devise no plan to obviate the dangers alluded to, he still scrupled not to urge the prosecution.
“Sir,” said Darby starting, as if a gleam of light had shot across his brain, “a thought has just struck me, and I hope it was something from above that sent it. If there was any kind of situation, sir, that I could fill, and that would keep me in a place of safety where the hathens couldn't get at me, everything would be right; and be the same token, sir, now that I think of it, isn't the under gaoler-ship of Castle Cumber vacant this minute.”
Lucre who, in fact, had set his heart on prosecuting and punishing the priest, would have gladly made Darby governor of the best gaol in his majesty's dominions, rather than lose this opportunity of effecting his purpose.
“Rest contented, O'Drive,” he replied, “you shall have it—I pledge myself that you shall have it. My influence is sufficient for much more than so paltry a trifle as that. And now for the informations.”
“Ah, sir,” replied the other, “that wouldn't mend the matter a bit. Let it go once abroad that I swore them, and I'd never see to-morrow night. No, sir, if you wish him properly prosecuted,—and I think I ought to know how to do it, too;—but if you wish him properly punished, place me first out of harm's way—out o' the reach o' the hathens; put me into the situation before we take a single step in the business, then I'll be safe and can work in it to some purpose.”