“Why,” said one of the fellows, “we're seizin' for rent: that's what it's about.”
“Rent,” observed the other, surprised, “why, it is only a few minutes since Mr. M'Loughlin told me that M'Clutchy assured him—”
“Captain M'Clutchy, sir, if you plaise.”
“Very well—Captain M'Clutchy, or Colonel M'Olutchy, if you wish, assured him that—”
“I have nothing to do with what he assured him,” replied the fellow; “my duty is to take an inventory of the furniture; beg pardon, ladies, but we must do our duty you know.”
“Let them have their way,” said Mrs. M'Loughlin, “let them have their way; I know what they are capable of. Mary, my dear, be firm—as I said before—our only trust is in God, my child.”
“I am firm, my dear mother; for, as James said, the grief of griefs has been removed from me. I can now support myself under anything—but you—indeed, James, she is battling against illness these three or four days—and will not go to bed; it is for you I now feel, mother.”
Mr. M'Loughlin and his family here entered; and truth to tell, boundless was the indignation of the honest fellow, at this most oppressive and perfidious proceeding on the part of the treacherous agent.
“Ah,” said he, “I knew it—and I said it—but let the scoundrel do his worst; I scorn him, and I defy him in the very height of his ill-gotten authority. My children,” said he, “keep yourselves cool. Let not this cowardly act of oppression and revenge disturb or provoke you. This country, as it is at present governed—and this property as it is at present managed—is no place for us to live in. Let the scoundrel then do his worst. As for us, we will follow the example of other respectable families, who, like ourselves, have been forced to seek a home in a distant country. We will emigrate to America, as soon as I can conveniently make arrangements for that purpose; for God knows I am sick of my native land, and the petty oppressors which in so many ways harass and goad the people almost to madness.”
He had no sooner uttered these words, than the fellow whose name was Hudson, whispered to one of his companions, who immediately disappeared with something like a grin of exultation on his countenance. Mrs. M'Loughlin's illness was now such as she could no longer attempt to conceal. The painful shock occasioned by this last vindictive proceeding on the part of M'Clutchy, came at a most unhappy moment. Overcome by that and her illness, she was obliged to go to bed, aided by her husband and her daughter; but before she went, it was considered necessary to get one of the ruffians, as an act of favor, to take an inventory of the furniture in her chamber, in order that her sick room might not be intruded upon afterwards.