It will be remembered that the priest left Feemy after his stormy interview in a somewhat irritable mood; she was still chewing the cud of the bitter thoughts to which the events of the last few hours had given rise, and was trying to make herself believe that her brother and Father John and Pat Brady, and all the rest of them, were wrong in their detestable surmises, and that her own Myles was true to her, when another stranger called at Ballycloran; and a perfect stranger he must have been, for he absolutely raised the lion-headed, rusty knocker, and knocked at the door — a ceremony to which the customary visitors of the house never dreamed of having recourse. So unusual was this proceeding, that it frightened the sole remaining domestic, Katty, out of all her decorum. It will be remembered that Mary Brady had absconded with Biddy. Poor Katty did not well know how to act under the trying emergencies of the case; she could not get to the door of Miss Feemy’s parlour, as a strange gentleman was standing in the hall, so she ran round the house, and ascertaining that the intruder was well in the hall, and could not see her, she clambered up to her mistress’s window, and exclaimed,

“Hist! Miss Feemy, there’s a sthranger gintleman a rapping at the big knocker, and I think it’s the fat lawyer from Carrick; what’ll I do thin, Miss?”

“Why, you fool!” whispered Feemy through one of the broken panes of glass, “go and ask him who he wants, and tell him Thady an’t at home.”

So Katty dropped from the window-sill again, and went to receive the gentleman into the house by following him in at the hall door. By the time, however, that she had entered herself, old Larry Macdermot had been aroused out of his lethargy by a third knocking of the stranger; and on opening his own parlour door, was startled to see Mr. Hyacinth Keegan, the attorney from Carrick on Shannon, standing before him.

Mr. Hyacinth Keegan requires some little introduction, as he is one of the principal personages of my tale. As Father Cullen before remarked, his father was a process-server living at a small town called Drumshambo; — that is, he obtained his bread by performing the legal acts to which Irish landlords are so often obliged to have resort in obtaining their rent from their tenants. This process-server was a poor man, and a Roman Catholic, but he had managed to give his son a decent education; he had gotten him a place as an errand boy in an attorney’s office, from whence he had risen to the dignity of clerk, and he was now, not only an attorney himself, but a flourishing one, and a Protestant to boot. His great step in the world had been his marriage with Sally Flannelly — that Sally whom Macdermot had rejected — for from the time of his wedding he had much prospered in all worldly things. He was a hardworking man, and in that consisted his only good quality; he was plausible, a good flatterer, not deficient in that sort of sharpness which made him a successful attorney in a small provincial town, and he could be a jovial companion, when called on to take that part. Principle had never stood much in his way, and he had completely taught himself to believe that what was legal was right; and he knew how to stretch legalities to the utmost. As a convert, Mr. Keegan was very enthusiastically attached to the Protestant religion and the Tory party, for which he had fought tooth and nail at the last county election.

Mr. Keegan boasted a useful kind of courage; he cared but little for the ill name he had acquired by his practice in the country among the poorer classes, and to do him justice, had shown pluck enough in the dangerous duties which he sometimes had to perform; for he acted as agent to the small properties of some absentee landlords, and for a man of his character such duties in County Leitrim were not at that time without risk. He had been shot at, had once been knocked off his horse, and had received various threatening letters; but it always turned out that he discovered the aggressor, and prosecuted and convicted him. One man he had transported for life; in the last case, the man who had shot at him was hung; and consequently the people began to be afraid of Mr. Keegan.

Our friend was fond of popularity, and was consequently a bit of a sportsman, as most Connaught attorneys are. He had the shooting of two or three bogs, kept a good horse or two, went to all the country races, and made a small book on the events of the Curragh. These accomplishments all had their effect, and as I said before, Mr. Keegan was successful. In appearance he was a large, burly man, gradually growing corpulent, with a soft oily face, on which there was generally a smile; and well for him that there was, for though his smile was not prepossessing, and carried the genuine stamp of deceit, it concealed the malice, treachery, and selfishness which his face so plainly bore without it. His eyes were light, large, and bright, but it was that kind of brightness which belongs to an opaque, and not to a transparent body — they never sparkled; his mouth was very large, and his lip heavy, and he carried a huge pair of brick-coloured whiskers. His dress was somewhat dandified, but it usually had not a few of the characteristics of a horse jockey; in age he was about forty-five. His wife was some years his senior; he had married her when she was rather falling into the yellow leaf; and though Mr. Hyacinth Keegan was always on perfectly good and confidential terms with his respected father-in-law, report in Carrick on Shannon declared, that great battles took place beside the attorney’s fireside, as to who was to have dominion in the house. The lady’s temper also might be a little roused by the ill-natured reports which reached her ears, that her handsome Hyacinth lavished more of his attentions and gallantry abroad than at home. Such was the visitor who now came to call at Ballycloran.

Mr. Macdermot was very much surprised, for Mr. Keegan’s business with Ballycloran was never done by personal visits. If money was received, Thady used to call and pay it at Keegan’s office; if other steps were to be taken, he employed one of those messengers, so frequently unwelcome at the houses of the Connaught gentry, and this usually ended in Thady calling at Mr. Keegan’s for a fresh bill for his father to sign. Old Macdermot was therefore so surprised that he knew not how to address his visitor. This, together with his hatred of the man, and his customary inability to do or say anything, made him so perplexed that he could not comprehend Mr. Keegan’s first words, which were not only conciliatory and civil, but almost affectionate.

“Ah! Mr. Macdermot, how do you do — how d’ye do? I’m glad to see you — very glad to see you — looking so well too. Why, what a time it is since I last had the pleasure — but then I’m so tied by the leg — so much business, Mr. Macdermot; indeed, though I was determined to drop in this morning as a friend, still even now I’ve just a word to say on business. You see I must join business and pleasure; so if you are not very much engaged, and could spare a minute or two, why I have a little proposal to make to you — acting for Mr. Flannelly you know — which I think you’ll not be sorry to hear.”

The attorney had been obliged to begin his story thus far in the hall — as the old man had shown no inclination to ask him into the parlour: nor did Larry even now move from the door; and, indeed, he did not look as though he was a fit subject to enter on business with an attorney. He had not shaved, or rather been shaved, since Sunday last; his eyes, though wide open, looked as if they had very lately been asleep, and were not quite awake; his clothes were huddled on him, and hung about him almost in tatters; the slaver was running down from his half open mouth, and his breath smelt very strongly of whiskey.

Keegan, finding that his host did not seem bent on hospitality, was edging himself into the room, when Feemy, who had heard his address to her father, came out to the old man’s relief, and told the visitor that he was not just himself that morning — that Thady was out, but that she would desire him to call at Mr. Keegan’s office the next day.

“Ah! Miss Feemy, and how’s your pretty self this morning? — and is it the fact what we hear down at Carrick, that we are to have a wedding soon at Ballycloran? Ah! well, of course you wouldn’t be after telling me, but I was very glad to hear it; that I was, Miss Feemy. But, Mr. Macdermot — it was your father, Miss Feemy, I was wishing to see this morning, not Mr. Thady — if you could allow me ten minutes or so — just a message from our old friend, Flannelly:"— and by this time Keegan had wedged his way into the room, out of which any one who knew him would be very sure he would not stir, until he had said what he had come to say.

Larry, hobbling back after him, sat himself down in his accustomed chair, and Feemy, as if to protect her father in her brother’s absence, followed him.

“It’s very hard, then, Mr. Keegan, that you should come up here; as if sending your processes, and latitats, and distraining, weren’t enough, but now you must —”

“Ah! my dear Sir, it’s not about such disagreeable business at all — we’re done with all that. It’s not about such business at all. When I’ve disagreeable jobs to do — of course we must have disagreeable jobs sometimes — why, I always send some of my disagreeable fellows to do it; but when I’ve good news, why I like to bring it myself, and that’s why I rode down this morning.”

Larry, stupid as he was, couldn’t be talked round by the attorney so easily.

“If it’s good news you have, why shouldn’t Thady hear it then? I am sure, poor fellow, he hears enough of bad news from you one way or another. And I tell you I can’t understand business today, and Flannelly’s bill doesn’t come round till next month — I know that; and so, if you plaze, Thady can hear what you have to say, at Carrick, on Saturday or Monday, or any day you plaze. Feemy, my darling, get something for Mr. Keegan to eat. I’ll be glad to see you eat a bit, but I can’t talk any more.” And the old man turned himself away, and began groaning over the fire.

“You see, Mr. Keegan, my father can’t go to business this morning. When shall I tell Thady to call down? — But wouldn’t you take a glass of —”

Wine, Feemy was going to say, but she knew she had none to offer.

“Not a taste in life of anything, thank you, Miss Feemy; not a drop, I’m very much obliged to you: but I’m sorry to find your good father so bent on not hearing me, as I have something to propose which he couldn’t but be glad to hear.”

“Well, father, will you listen to what Mr. Keegan has to say?”

“Don’t I tell you, Feemy, that the bill doesn’t come round before November? and it’s very hard he won’t lave me in pace till that time comes.”

“You see,” continued Feemy, “that he won’t hear anything; don’t you think you’d better wait and see Thady down at Carrick?”

Now this was what Mr. Keegan did not want; in fact, his wish was to talk over Larry Macdermot to agree to something to which he feared Thady would object; but he had had no idea the old man would be so obstinate. He, however, was at a loss how to proceed, when Feemy declared that Thady was seen approaching.

“Well, then, Miss Feemy, as your brother is here, and as your father isn’t just himself this morning, I might as well do my business with him; but as it is of some importance, and as Mr. Flannelly wishes to have your father’s answer as soon as possible, he will not object, I hope, to giving his opinion, when he shall have heard what I have to say.”

By this time Thady was before the door, and on Feemy’s calling to him, informing him that Mr. Keegan was in the house, waiting to speak to him, he came up into the parlour.

“How do you do this morning?” said the lawyer, shaking Thady by the hand, “how d’ye do? I’ve just ridden up here to bring a message to your father from Mr. Flannelly about this mortgage he holds; but your father doesn’t seem quite the thing this morning, and therefore it’s as well you came in. Of course what I have to say concerns you as well as him.”

“Of course, Mr. Keegan; I look after the affairs at Ballycloran mostly, now. Don’t you know it’s me you look to for the money? — and I’m sorry you should have to bother my father about it. Just step out of the room, Feemy.”

And the young lady retreated to her own possessions.

“Why, now, Mr. Thady, how you all put your backs up because an unfortunate attorney comes to call on you. What I’m come to say is what I hope and think you’ll both be glad to hear; and I trust you’ve too much good sense to put your father against it merely because it comes from me.”

“You may be sure I shall not put my father against anything which would be good for him or Feemy —”

“Well, Mr. Thady, so far so good; and I’m sure you wouldn’t; besides, what I’ve got to say is greatly to your own advantage.”

“Well, Mr. Keegan, out with it.”

“Why, you see, Mr. Macdermot,”— and the attorney turned to the father, who sat poring over the fire, as if he was determined not to hear a word that passed — “you see, Mr. Macdermot, Mr. Flannelly is thinking how much better it would be to settle the affair of this mortgage out and out. He’s getting very old, Mr. Macdermot. Why, Thady, he’s more than thirty years older than your father; and you see he wants to arrange all his money matters. Between us and the bedpost, by the by, I wish he didn’t think so much of those nephews of his. However, he wishes the matter settled, and I explained to him that after knowing one another so long, it wouldn’t be fair — though, for the matter of that, of course it would be fair, but, in fact, the old man doesn’t exactly wish it himself — that is, you know, to foreclose at once, and sell the estate —”

Here he paused; while Larry merely fidgeted in his chair, and Thady said, “Well, Mr. Keegan?”

“So, you see, he just wishes the affair to be settled amicably. I fear, Mr. Thady, your father hasn’t just got the amount of the principal debt.”

“Oh! you know that of yourself, Mr. Keegan; you know he hasn’t the interest itself, till I screw it out of them poor devils of tenants.”

“Well, Mr. Macdermot, as you haven’t the money to pay the principal debt, of course you can’t clear the estate. Why, you see, the interest amounts to ￡198 odd shillings a year; and before that’s paid — times is so bad, you see — Mr. Flannelly is obliged — obliged, in his own defence, you see — to run you to great expense. Well, now, perhaps you’d say, if Flannelly wants his money at once, you’d borrow it on another mortgage — that is, sell the mortgage, Mr. Thady; but money’s so scarce these days, and the property is so little improved, and the tenants so bad, that you couldn’t raise the money on it — you couldn’t possibly raise the money on it.”

“Why, Mr. Keegan, father pays Mr. Flannelly ￡5 per cent., and the property is near to ￡400 a year, even now.”

“Well, of course, if you think so, I wouldn’t advise you to the contrary; only, if so, Mr. Flannelly must foreclose at once, in which case the property would be sold out and out; but perhaps you could effect a loan in time —”

“Well, Mr. Keegan, what was it you said you had to propose?”

“What Mr. Flannelly proposes, you mean; — of course I’m only his messenger now. What he proposes is this. You see, the property is so unimproved, and bad — why, the house is tumbling down — it’s enough to kill your father, now he’s getting a little infirm.”

“Well, well, Mr. Keegan; what is it Mr. Flannelly wishes to do with us?”

“Wishes to do? — oh, he doesn’t wish anything, of course; the law is open to him to get his own; in fact, the law would give him much more than he wishes to take: but he proposes to buy Ballycloran himself.”

“Buy Ballycloran!” screamed Larry.

“Well, well, father; let’s hear what Mr. Keegan has to say. — Well, Mr. Keegan, does he propose giving anything but what he has got himself already? — or does he propose to take the estate for the mortgage, and cry quits; so that father, and Feemy, and I, can walk out just where we plaze?”

“Of course not, of course not. It’s to make your father what he thinks a fair offer that I’m come up; and it’s what I’m sure you must think is a generous offer.”

“Well, out with it.”

“Well then; what he proposes to do is, to settle an annuity on your father for his life; and give you a sum of money down for yourself and your sister.”

“Let’s hear what he offers,” said Thady.

Larry, whose back was nearly turned to the chair where the attorney was sitting, said nothing; but he gave an ominous look round, which showed that he had heard what had passed. But it did not show that he by any means approved of the proposition.

“I’m coming to that. You see the rent is mostly all swallowed up by this mortgage. Now can you say you’ve ￡50 a year coming into the house? I’m afraid not, Mr. Thady — I’m afraid not; and then all your time is occupied in collecting it, and scraping it; and if it’s true what I hear — to be plain, I fear you’ll hardly have the interest money this November; and if you like Mr. Flannelly’s proposal, he’ll give in that half year; so that you’d have something in hand to begin. And how comfortable Mr. Macdermot would be in lodgings down at Carrick; you’ve no idea how reasonable he might board there; say at Dargan’s for instance, for about ten shillings a week. And I’m very glad, I can assure you, to hear of the very respectable match your sister is making. Ussher is a very steady nice fellow, knows what’s what, and won’t be less ready to come to the scratch when he knows he’ll have to touch a little ready cash.”

“You’d better let us know what your offer is, and lave my sisther alone. It doesn’t do to bring every old woman’s story in, when we’re talking business; so, if you plaze, we won’t calculate on Feemy’s marriage.”

“Well, well, I didn’t mean anything more than that I just heard that a match was made between them. So, Mr. Macdermot, Mr. Flannelly will settle ￡50 a year on you, paid as you like; or come, say a pound a week, as you would probably like to pay your lodgings weekly; and he would give ￡100 each to your son and daughter, ready money down you know, Mr. Thady. What do you say, Mr. Macdermot?” And he got up and walked round so as to stand over the side of Larry’s chair.

“Didn’t I tell you, then, I wouldn’t be bothered with your business? If you must come up here jawing and talking, can’t you have it out with Thady there?”

“Well, Thady, what do you say? You see how much your father’s comfort would be improved; and as I suppose, after all, your sister is to be married, you couldn’t well keep the house up; and I’ll tell you what more Mr. Flannelly proposes for yourself.”

“I don’t want what Mr. Flannelly will do for me; but I’m thinking of the old man, and Feemy there.”

“Well, don’t ............