Barry looked round for something wherewith to avenge
himself for this, but Jacky was out of his reach;
so he merely muttered some customary but inaudible
curses, and turned into the house.
He immediately took pen, ink, and paper, and, writing
the following note dispatched it to Tuam, by Terry,
mounted for the occasion, and directed on no account
to return without an answer. If Mr Daly wasn’t
at home, he was to wait for his return; that is, if
he was expected home that night.
Dunmore House, Feb. 1844.
My dear Sir,
I wish to consult you on legal business,
which will bear no delay. The subject
is of considerable importance, and I am induced
to think it will be more ably handled by you than by
Mr Blake, my father’s man of business.
There is a bed at your service at Dunmore House,
and I shall be glad to see you to dinner to-morrow.
I am, dear Sir, Your faithful servant,
BARRY LYNCH.
P.S.—You had better not
mention in Tuam that you are coming
to me,—not that my business
is one that I intend to keep
secret.
J. Daly, Esq., Solicitor, Tuam.
In about two hours’ time, Terry had put the
above into the hands of the person for whom it was
intended, and in two more he had brought back an answer,
saying that Mr Daly would be at Dunmore House to dinner
on the following day. And Terry, on his journey
there and back, did not forget to tell everyone he
saw, from whom he came, and to whom he was going.
We will now return to Martin Kelly. I have before
said that as soon as he had completed his legal business,—namely,
his instructions for the settlement of Anty Lynch’s
property, respecting which he and Lord Ballindine
had been together to the lawyer’s in Clare Street,—he
started for home, by the Ballinasloe canal-boat, and
reached that famous depot of the fleecy tribe without
adventure. I will not attempt to describe the
tedium of that horrid voyage, for it has been often
described before; and to Martin, who was in no ways
fastidious, it was not so unendurable as it must always
be to those who have been accustomed to more rapid
movement. Nor yet will I attempt to put on record
the miserable resources of those, who, doomed to a
twenty hours’ sojourn in one of these floating
prisons, vainly endeavour to occupy or amuse their
minds. But I will advise any, who from ill-contrived
arrangements, or unforeseen misfortune, [15] may find
themselves on board the Ballinasloe canal-boat, to
entertain no such vain dream. The vis inertiae
[16] of patient endurance, is the only weapon of any
use in attempting to overcome the lengthened ennui
of this most tedious transit. Reading is out
of the question. I have tried it myself, and
seen others try it, but in vain. The sense of
the motion, almost imperceptible, but still perceptible;
