He then walked out, neither father nor son having thought it prudent to brave the expression of his eye by replying to his words.
“Now,” said Val, addressing Solomon, “let there be an execution issued without a moment’s delay—the man is doomed, his hour has come; and so, may I never prosper, if I don’t scatter him and his, houseless and homeless, to the four corners of heaven! I have meshed him at last, and now for vengeance.”
“But,” said Solomon, in a tone of slight remonstrance, “I trust, my dear M’Clutchy, that,in taking vengeance upon this man and his family, you will do so in a proper spirit, and guard against the imputations of an uncharitable world. When you take vengeance, let your motives be always pure and upright and even charitable—of course you expect and hope that you ruin this man and his; family for their own spiritual good. The affliction that you are about! to bring on them, will soften and subdue their hard and obstinate hearts, and lead them it is to be hoped, to a better and more Christian state of feeling. May He grant it!”
“Of course,” replied Val, humoring him in his hypocrisy, “of course it is from these motives I act; certainly it is.”
“In that case,” said Solomon, “I am bound to acknowledge that I never have heard a man vow vengeance, or express a determination to ruin his fellow creature, upon more delightfully Christian principles. It is a great privilege, indeed, to be able to ruin a whole family in such a blessed spirit, I have no doubt you feel it so.”
—Voice of the Ideal—Poll Doolin’s Remorse—Conversation on Irish Property—Disclosure concerning Mary M’Laughlin
About dusk, on the evening of that day, Poll Doolin having put on her black bonnet, prepared to go out upon some matter of a private nature, as was clearly evident by her manner, and the cautious nature of all her movements. Raymond, who eyed her closely, at length said—
“Take care now—don’t harm them.”
“Them!” replied Poll, “who do you mean by them?”
“The M’Loughlins—go and look at Mary, and then ask yourself why you join the divil:—there now, that’s one. Who saved me? do you know that, or do you care? Very well, go now and join the divil, if you like, but I know what I’ll do some fine night. Here he leaped in a state of perfect exultation from the ground.
“Why, what will you do?” said Poll.
“You’ll not tell to-morrow,” replied Raymond, “neither will any one else; but I don’t forget poor white-head, nor Mary M’Loughlin.”
“Well, keep the house like a good boy,” she said, “till I come back; and, if anybody should come in, or ask where I am, say that I went up to Jerry Hannigan’s for soap and candles.”
“Ay, but that’s not true, because I know you’re goin’ to join the divil; but, no matter—go there—you’ll have his blessin’ any how, and it’s long since he gave it to you—with his left hand. I wish I wasn’t your son—but no matther, no matther.”