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Updated: May 31, 2025
"Think!" said the parson "There's no possibility of thinking at all. The truth becomes clearer every moment. Why, you wretched creature, it's not ten minutes since you yourself accused Doctor Colligan of offering to murder your sister!
"The figure," said he; "the figure should not trouble you if you had no one but me to deal, with. But there'll be Anty, confound her, putting her fist into this and every other plan of mine!" "I'd better deal with the agent, I'm thinking," said Colligan; "so, good night."
He was sprawling on the ground when I left him." "You're quite sure you knocked him down?" repeated the parson. "The divil a doubt on earth about that!" replied Colligan. "I tell you, when I left the room he was on his back among the chairs." "And you did not hear a word from him since?" "Not a word." "Then there can't be any mistake about it, my lord," said Armstrong.
The doctor thanked him for his good opinion. "Oh! I'm not blarneying you; upon my soul I'm not; that's not the way with me at all; and when you know me better you'll say so, and you may be sure you shall have the farm by Michaelmas." And then, in a voice which he tried to make as unconcerned as possible, he continued: "By the bye, Colligan, when do you think this affair of Anty's will be over?
"Upon my soul I can't say; but good night now, you're getting excited, and I've finished my drop of punch." "Ah! nonsense, man, sit down. I've something in earnest I want to say to you," and Barry got up and prevented the doctor from leaving the room. Colligan had gone so far as to put on his hat and great coat, and now sat down again without taking them off.
He was a horrid figure: he had no collar round his neck, and his handkerchief was put on in such a way as to look like a hangman's knot: his face was blotched, and red, and greasy, for he had neither shaved nor washed himself since his last night's debauch; he had neither waistcoat nor braces on, and his trousers fell on his hips; his long hair hung over his eyes, which were bleared and bloodshot; he was suffering dreadfully from terror, and an intense anxiety to shift the guilt from himself to Doctor Colligan.
"Very well," said Mr Armstrong; and then going out on to the landing-place, called out over the banisters "Doctor Doctor Colligan! tell his lordship Mr Lynch objects to a private interview: he had better just step down to the Court-house, and issue his warrant. You might as well tell Constable Nelligan to be in the way." "D n!" exclaimed Barry, sitting bolt upright in his bed.
There was not one moment in which he would not most willingly have had his sister's blood upon his hands, upon his brain, upon his soul; could he have willed and accomplished her death, without making himself liable to the penalties of the law. At length Doctor Colligan came, and Barry made a great effort to appear unconcerned and in good humour.
They had not, however, got above half way down the avenue, when they saw another gig coming towards them; and, after sundry speculations as to whom it might contain, Mr Armstrong pronounced the driver to be "that dirty gallipot, Colligan."
My only doubt is whether you should not at once be committed for trial at the next assizes." "Oh, my G !" exclaimed Barry, and for some time he continued blaspheming most horribly swearing that there was a conspiracy against him accusing Mr Armstrong, in the most bitter terms, of joining with Doctor Colligan and Martin Kelly to rob and murder him.
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