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With difficulty he raised himself on one elbow. A party of hunters and Indians were coming in his direction. Some were carrying a stretcher formed with rifles and the branches of trees. "Gold! Gold!" they shouted wildly, as they ran toward him. Half a dozen trappers crowded round John's prostrate form. On the stretcher lay Bill Branigan, asleep.
"The master's goin' to them? bekaise I heard he wasn't able." "He's goin', he says, happen what may; he thinks it's his last visit to them, and I agree wid him he'll soon have a greater 'sizes and a different judge to meet." "Ay, Charley, think of that now; an' tell me, he sleeps in Ballynafail, as usual; eh, now?" "He does of course." "An' Jemmy Branigan goes along wid him?"
The misery, and sorrow, and sufferin's of this misfortunate family, will be upon you, I doubt, if you don't do them justice." "Touch the bell, Dick! Here some one! Jemmy Branigan! Harry Lowry! Jack Clinton! Where are you all, you scoundrels? Here, put this rascal in the stocks immediately! in with him!" Jemmy, who, from an adjoining room, had been listening to every word that passed, now entered.
"Then go in and see my father at once about it, and a devilish difficult card you'll have to play with him; for my part, I think he is mad ever since Jemmy Branigan left him.
His servants partook of the same equivocal appearance, as did the father and son, and the "Grange" in general; but, above all and everything in his establishment, must we place, in originality and importance, Jemmy Branigan, who, in point of fact, ought to receive credit for the greater portion of old Dick's reputation, or at least for all that was good of it.
We are not now about to pronounce, any opinion upon the constitutional spirit of Dick's decisions inasmuch as nineteen out of every twenty of them were come to by the only "Magistrates' Guide" he ever was acquainted with to wit, the redoubtable Jemmy Branigan.
The conversation took various changes as they proceeded, until they reached the Grange, where the first person they met was Jemmy Branigan, who addressed his old enemy, the pedlar, in that peculiarly dry and ironical tone which he was often in the habit of using when he wished to disguise a friendly act in an ungracious garb a method of granting favors, by the way, to which he was proverbially addicted.
In addition to hunger, they suffered severely from the cold, and the jagged rocks tearing their boots made them footsore. Of gold they had seen a few traces, but the ore was not present in such quantities as to encourage them to believe they had stumbled across another El Dorado, or even to make it worth their while to stake out a claim. Branigan, disappointed, was in favor of going back.
About a week had now elapsed since the abusive contest between Jemmy Branigan and the pedlar; the coroner was beginning to recover, and Charley Hanlon's aunt had disappeared altogether from the neighborhood. Previous to her departure, however, she, her nephew, and the pedlar, had several close, and apparently interesting conferences, into which their parish priest, the Rev.
Listen but wait I hear somebody's foot. No matter I'll surprise you both by an' by." "Godsave all here," said the voice of our friend, Jemmy Branigan, who immediately entered. "In troth, this change is for the betther, at any rate," said he, looking at the house; "I gave you a lift wid the masther yestherday," he added, turning to the woman.
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