PAGE 15
The Last Heir Of Castle Connor
by
O’Connor replied in the negative. The Captain expressed himself as satisfied, adding, in what he meant to be a complimentary strain, ‘that he knew Mr. O’Connor would scorn to employ padding or any unfair mode of protection.’
There was now a breathless silence. O’Connor stood perfectly motionless; and, excepting the death-like paleness of his features, he exhibited no sign of agitation. His eye was steady–his lip did not tremble–his attitude was calm. The Captain, having re-examined the priming of the pistols, placed one of them in the hand of Fitzgerald.–M’Donough inquired whether the parties were prepared, and having been answered in the affirmative, he proceeded to give the word, ‘Ready.’ Fitzgerald raised his hand, but almost instantly lowered it again. The crowd had pressed too much forward as it appeared, and his eye had been unsteadied by the flapping of the skirt of a frieze riding-coat worn by one of the spectators.
‘In the name of my principal,’ said the Captain, ‘I must and do insist upon these gentlemen moving back a little. We ask but little; fair play, and no favour.’
The crowd moved as requested. M’Donough repeated his former question, and was answered as before. There was a breathless silence. Fitzgerald fixed his eye upon O’Connor. The appointed signal, ‘Ready, fire!’ was given. There was a pause while one might slowly reckon three–Fitzgerald fired–and O’Connor fell helplessly upon the ground.
‘There is no time to be lost,’ said M’Creagrh; ‘for, by —-, you have done for him.’
So saying, he threw himself upon his horse, and was instantly followed at a hard gallop by Fitzgerald.
‘Cold-blooded murder, if ever murder was committed,’ said O’Grady. ‘He shall hang for it; d–n me, but he shall.’
A hopeless attempt was made to overtake the fugitives; but they were better mounted than any of their pursuers, and escaped with ease. Curses and actual yells of execration followed their course; and as, in crossing the brow of a neighbouring hill, they turned round in the saddle to observe if they were pursued, every gesture which could express fury and defiance was exhausted by the enraged and defeated multitude.
‘Clear the way, boys,’ said young O’Grady, who with me was kneeling beside O’Connor, while we supported him in our arms; ‘do not press so close, and be d–d; can’t you let the fresh air to him; don’t you see he’s dying?’
On opening his waistcoat we easily detected the wound: it was a little below the chest–a small blue mark, from which oozed a single heavy drop of blood.
‘He is bleeding but little–that is a comfort at all events,’ said one of the gentlemen who surrounded the wounded man.
Another suggested the expediency of his being removed homeward with as little delay as possible, and recommended, for this purpose, that a door should be removed from its hinges, and the patient, laid upon this, should be conveyed from the field. Upon this rude bier my poor friend was carried from that fatal ground towards Castle Connor. I walked close by his side, and observed every motion of his. He seldom opened his eyes, and was perfectly still, excepting a nervous WORKING of the fingers, and a slight, almost imperceptible twitching of the features, which took place, however, only at intervals. The first word he uttered was spoken as we approached the entrance of the castle itself, when he said; repeatedly, ‘The back way, the back way.’ He feared lest his mother should meet him abruptly and without preparation; but although this fear was groundless, since she never left her room until late in the day, yet it was thought advisable, and, indeed, necessary, to caution all the servants most strongly against breathing a hint to their mistress of the events which had befallen.
Two or three gentlemen had ridden from the field one after another, promising that they should overtake our party before it reached the castle, bringing with them medical aid from one quarter or another; and we determined that Mrs. O’Connor should not know anything of the occurrence until the opinion of some professional man should have determined the extent of the injury which her son had sustained –a course of conduct which would at least have the effect of relieving her from the horrors of suspense. When O’Connor found himself in his own room, and laid upon his own bed, he appeared much revived–so much so, that I could not help admitting a strong hope that all might yet be well.