CHAPTER XXII.—The Squire Comforts Whitecraft in his Affliction.
The old squire and Cummiskey lost little time in getting over the ground to the town of Sligo, and, in order to reach it the more quickly, they took a short cut by the old road which we have described at the beginning of this narrative. On arriving at that part of it from which they could view the spot where Reilly rescued them from the murderous violence of the Red Rapparee, Cummiskey pointed to it.
“Does your honor remember that place, where you see the ould buildin'?”
“Yes, I think so. Is not that the place where the cursed Rapparee attacked us?”
“It is, sir; and where poor Reilly saved both our lives; and yet your honor is goin' to hang him.”
“You know nothing about it, you old blockhead. It was all a plan got up by Reilly and the Rapparee for the purpose of getting introduced to my daughter, for his own base and selfish purposes. Yes, I'll hang him certainly—no doubt of that.”
“Well, sir,” replied Cummiskey, “it's one comfort that he won't hang by himself.”
“No,” said the other, “he and the Rapparee will stretch the same rope.”
“The Rapparee! faith, sir, hell have worse company.”
“What do you mean, sirra?”