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Updated: May 9, 2025
"And what brought poor Mary here to die, do you know?" inquired Raymond; "no you don't," he replied, "but I will tell you she came to die near poor White-head that she loved so much, and near Torley, and near poor Hugh himself, that the bloodhounds " "Damn my honor, Rimon, if I can stand this any longer I'm off."
"I would rather prosecute that Blackguard Rimon-a-hattha," said a man, whose head was awfully swollen, and bound up with a handkerchief, "Rimon, Captain, is the greatest rascal of the two he is, by, Japurs." "Yes, but is he not an idiot, Johnston? In point of law he is only a fiction, and cannot be prosecuted." "Fiction, Captain!
"Whisht," said Raymond, "let us see who have we here? Ah," said he, stooping down and feeling the chill of death upon her features, "it is Mary O'Regan, and she's dead dead!" "Dead," exclaimed Phil, starting, "curse you, Rimon, let us be off at full speed, I say Gad, I'm in a nice pickle; and these pistols are of no use against any confounded ghost."
"I say again," said Phil, "I say my jolly ph-foolosophy eh foolosopher that is to say, you deal in foolosophy an ex-excellent trade for a fool I say again, you have brought me the wrong way, or misled me somehow upon my honor and reputation, Rimon, I rather think you're short of sense, my man. Come, I say, let us be off home again what the devil did you bring me to a church-yard for? eh?"
Rimon, what do you mean?" said Phil, "there's a dreadful look in your eyes Rimon, you are an excellent fellow; but tell me what you mean?" "To show you a murdherer," he replied; "and now I have one by the throat!" As he spoke, he clutched him by the neck with a grasp that might strangle a tiger.
"I think," continued Phil, "that I have got you and Rimon in my power now, and damn my hon-honor, may be we won't give you a chase a-across the country that'll put mettle into your heels; hip, hip, hurrah!
"That's more than I know," replied this grateful youth; "I neither saw nor heard you, if you were." "It matters not," replied the other, "let me assist you to rise." "I can rise myself now," said he, getting up and staggering; "I'll transport you and that d d savage, Rimon the hatter. You are a po-popish priest, and you cannot be he-here at this time of night for much good.
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