“God knows,” said Daly, “I want to have no hand in hurting any of you; but, to tell the truth, Martin, it would be well for Miss Lynch to have a better adviser than you or she may get herself, and, what she’ll think more of, she’ll get her friends—­maning you, Mrs Kelly, and your family—­into a heap of throubles.”

“Oh, God forbid, thin!” exclaimed Anty.

“Niver mind us, Mr Daly,” said the widow.  “The Kellys was always able to hould their own; thanks be to glory.”

“Well, I’ve said my say, Mr Daly,” said Martin, “and now do you say your’n:  as for throubles, we’ve all enough of thim; but your own must have been bad, when you undhertook this sort of job for Barry Lynch.”

“Mind yourself, Martin, as I told you before, and you’ll about have enough to do.—­Miss Lynch, I’ve been instructed by your brother to draw up an indictment against Mrs Kelly and Mr Kelly, charging them with conspiracy to get possession of your fortune.”

“A what!” shouted the widow, jumping up from her chair—­“to rob Anty Lynch of her fortune!  I’d have you to know, Mr Daly, I wouldn’t demane myself to rob the best gentleman in Connaught, let alone a poor unprotected young woman, whom I’ve—­”

“Whist, mother—­go asy,” said Martin.  “I tould you that that was what war in the paper he gave me; he’ll give you another, telling you all about it just this minute.”

“Well, the born ruffian!  Does he dare to accuse me of wishing to rob his sister!  Now, Mr Daly, av’ the blessed thruth is in you this minute, don’t your own heart know who it is, is most likely to rob Anty Lynch?—­Isn’t it Barry Lynch himself is thrying to rob his own sisther this minute? ay, and he’d murdher her too, only the heart within him isn’t sthrong enough.”

“Ah, mother! don’t be saying such things,” said Martin; “what business is that of our’n?  Let Barry send what messages he plazes; I tell you it’s all moonshine; he can’t hurt the hair of your head, nor Anty’s neither.  Go asy, and let Mr Daly say what he has to say, and have done with it.”

“It’s asy to say ’go asy’—­but who’s to sit still and be tould sich things as that?  Rob Anty Lynch indeed!”

“If you’ll let me finish what I have to say, Mrs Kelly, I think you’ll find it betther for the whole of us,” said Daly.

“Go on thin, and be quick with it; but don’t talk to dacent people about robbers any more.  Robbers indeed! they’re not far to fitch; and black robbers too, glory be to God.”

“Your brother, Miss Lynch, is determined to bring this matter before a jury at the assizes, for the sake of protecting you and your property.”

“Protecthing Anty Lynch!—­is it Barry?  The Holy Virgin defind her from sich prothection! a broken head the first moment the dhrink makes his heart sthrong enough to sthrike her!”

“Ah, mother! you’re a fool,” exclaimed Martin:  “why can’t you let the man go on?—­ain’t he paid for saying it?  Well, Mr Daly, begorra I pity you, to have such things on your tongue; but go on, go on, and finish it.”