We must now see how things went on in the enemy’s camp.

The attorney drove up to the door of Dunmore House on his car, and was shown into the drawing-room, where he met Barry Lynch. The two young men were acquainted, though not intimate with each other, and they bowed, and then shook hands; and Barry told the attorney that he was welcome to Dunmore House, and the attorney made another bow, rubbed his hands before the fire and said it was a very cold evening; and Barry said it was ‘nation cold for that time of the year; which, considering that they were now in the middle of February, showed that Barry was rather abroad, and didn’t exactly know what to say. He remained for about a minute, silent before the fire, and then asked Daly if he’d like to see his room; and, the attorney acquiescing, he led him up to it, and left him there.

The truth was, that, as the time of the man’s visit had drawn nearer, Barry had become more and more embarrassed; and now that the attorney had absolutely come, his employer felt himself unable to explain the business before dinner. ‘These fellows are so confoundedly sharp I shall never be up to him till I get a tumbler of punch on board,’ said he to himself, comforting himself with the reflection; ‘besides, I’m never well able for anything till I get a little warmed. We’ll get along like a house on fire when we’ve got the hot water between us.’

The true meaning of all which was, that he hadn’t the courage to make known his villanous schemes respecting his sister till he was half drunk; and, in order the earlier to bring about this necessary and now daily consummation, he sneaked downstairs and took a solitary glass of brandy to fortify himself for entertaining the attorney.

The dinner was dull enough; for, of course, as long as the man was in the room there was no talking on business, and, in his present frame of mind Barry was not likely to be an agreeable companion. The attorney ate his dinner as if it was a part of the fee, received in payment of the work he was to do, and with a determination to make the most of it.

At last, the dishes disappeared, and with them Terry Rooney; who, however, like a faithful servant, felt too strong an interest in his master’s affairs to be very far absent when matters of importance were likely to be discussed.

‘And now, Mr Daly,’ said Lynch, ‘we can be snug here, without interruption, for an hour or two. You’ll find that whiskey old and good, I think; but, if you prefer wine, that port on the table came from Barton’s, in Sackville Street.’

‘Thank ye; if I take anything, it’ll be a glass of punch. But as we’ve business to talk of, maybe I’d better keep my head clear.’

‘My head’s never so clear then, as when I’ve done my second tumbler. I’m never so sure of what I’m about as when I’m a little warmed; “but,” says you, “because my head’s strong, it’s no reason another’s shouldn’t be weak:” but do as you like; liberty hall here now, Mr Daly; that is, as far as I’m concerned. You knew my father, I believe, Mr Daly?’

‘Well then, Mr Lynch, I didn’t exactly know him; but living so near him, and he having so much business in the county, and myself having a little, I believe I’ve been in company with him, odd times.’

‘He was a queer man: wasn’t he, Mr Daly?’

‘Was he, then? I dare say. I didn’t know much about him. I’ll take the sugar from you, Mr Lynch; I believe I might as well mix a drop, as the night’s cold.’

‘That’s right. I thought you weren’t the fellow to sit with an empty glass before you. But, as I was saying before, the old boy was a queer hand; that is, latterly for the last year or so. Of course you know all about his will?’

‘Faith then, not much. I heard lie left a will, dividing the property between you and Miss Lynch.’

‘He did! Just at the last moment, when the breath wasn’t much more than left in him, he signed a will, making away half the estate, just as you say, to my sister. Blake could have broke the will, only he was so d —— pig-headed and stupid. It’s too late now, I suppose?’

‘Why, I could hardly answer that, you know, as I never heard the circumstances; but I was given to understand that Blake consulted McMahon; and that McMahon wouldn’t take up the case, as there was nothing he could put before the Chancellor. Mind I’m only repeating what people said in Tuam, and about there. Of course, I couldn’t think of advising till I knew the particulars. Was it on this subject, Mr Lynch, you were good enough to send for me?’

‘Not at all, Mr Daly. I look upon that as done and gone; bad luck to Blake and McMahon, both. The truth is, between you and me, Daly I don’t mind telling you; as I hope now you will become my man of business, and it’s only fair you should know all about it the truth is, Blake was more interested on the other side, and he was determined the case shouldn’t go before the Chancellor. But, when my father signed that will, it was just after one of those fits he had lately; that could be proved, and he didn’t know what he was doing, from Adam! He didn’t know what was in the will, nor, that he was signing a will at all; so help me, he didn’t. However, that’s over. It wasn’t to talk about that that I sent for you; only, sorrow seize the rogue that made the old man rob me! It wasn’t Anty herself, poor creature; she knew nothing about it; it was those who meant to get hold of my money, through her, that did it. Poor Anty! Heaven knows she wasn’t up to such a dodge as that!’

‘Well, Mr Lynch, of course I know nothing of the absolute facts; but from what I hear, I think it’s as well to let the will alone. The Chancellor won’t put a will aside in a hurry; it’s always a difficult job would cost an immense sum of money, which should, any way, come out of the property; and, after all, the chances are ten to one you’d be beat.’

‘Perhaps you’re right, now; though I’m sure, had the matter been properly taken up at first had you seen the whole case at the first start, the thing could have been done. I’m sure you would have said so; but that’s over now; it’s another business I want you for. But you don’t drink your punch! and it’s dry work talking, without wetting one’s whistle,’ and Barry carried out his own recommendation.

‘I’m doing very well, thank ye, Mr Lynch. And what is it I can do for you?’

‘That’s what I’m coming to. You know that, by the will, my sister Anty gets from four to five hundred a year?’

‘I didn’t know the amount; but I believe she has half whatever there is.’

‘Exactly: half the land, half the cash, half the house, half everything, except the debts! and those were contracted in my name, and I must pay them all. Isn’t that hard, Mr Daly?’

‘I didn’t know your father had debts.’

‘Oh, but he had debts which ought to have been his; though, as I said, they stand in my name, and I must pay them.’

‘And, I suppose, what you now want is to saddle the debts on the entire property? If you can really prove that the debts were incurred for your father’s benefit, I should think you might do that. But has your sister refused to pay the half? They can’t be heavy. Won’t Miss Lynch agree to pay the half herself?’

This last lie of Barry’s for, to give the devil his due, old Sim hadn’t owed one penny for the last twenty years was only a bright invention of the moment, thrown off by our injured hero to aggravate the hardships of his case; but he was determined to make the most of it.

‘Not heavy? faith, they are heavy, and d d heavy too, Mr Daly! what’ll take two hundred a-year out of my miserable share of the property; divil a less. Oh! there’s never any knowing how a man’ll cut up till he’s gone.’

‘That’s true; but how could your father owe such a sum as that, and no one know it? Why, that must be four or five thousand pounds?’

‘About five, I believe.’

‘And you’ve put your name to them, isn’t that it?’

‘Something like it. You know, he and Lord Ballindine, years ago, were fighting about the leases we held under the old Lord; and then, the old man wanted ready money, and borrowed it in Dublin; and, some years since that is, about three years ago, sooner than see any of the property sold, I took up the debt myself. You know, it was all as good as my own then; and now, confound it! I must pay the whole out of the miserable thing that’s left me under this infernal will. But it wasn’t even about that I sent for you; only, I must explain exactly how matters are, before I come to the real point.’

‘But your father’s name must be joined with yours in the debt; and, if so, you can come upon the entire property for the payment. There’s no difficulty about that; your sister, of course, must pay the half.’

‘It’s not so, my dear fellow. I can’t explain the thing exactly, but it’s I that owe the money, and I must pay it. But it’s no good talking of that. Well, you see, Anty that’s my sister, has this property all in her own hands. But you don’t drink your punch,’ and Barry mixed his third tumbler.

‘Of course she has; and, surely she won’t refuse to pay half the claims on the estate?’

‘Never mind the claims!’ answered Barry, who began to fear that he had pushed his little invention a thought too far. ‘I tell you, I must stand to them; you don’t suppose I’d ask her to pay a penny as a favour? No; I’m a little too proud for that. Besides, it’d be no use, not the least; and that’s what I’m coming to. You see, Anty’s got this money, and . You know, don’t you, Mr Daly, poor Anty’s not just like other people?’

‘No,’ said Mr Daly ‘I didn’t. I can’t say I know much about Miss Lynch. I never had the pleasure of seeing her.’

‘But did you never hear she wasn’t quite right?’

‘Indeed, I never did, then.’

‘Well that’s odd; but we never had it much talked about, poor creature. Indeed, there was no necessity for people to know much about it, for she never gave any trouble; and, to tell the truth, as long as she was kept quiet, she never gave us occasion to think much about it. But, confound them for rogues those who have got. hold of her now, have quite upset her.’

‘But what is it ails your sister, Mr Lynch?’

‘To have it out, at once, then she’s not right in her upper story. Mind, I don’t mean she’s a downright lunatic; but she’s cracked, poor thing, and quite unable to judge for herself, in money-matters, and such like; and, though she might have done very well, poor thing, and passed without notice, if she’d been left quiet, as was always intended, I’m afraid now, unless she’s well managed, she’d end her life in the Ballinasloe Asylum.’

The attorney made no answer to this, although Barry paused, to allow him to do so. Daly was too sharp, and knew his employer’s character too well to believe all he said, and he now began to fancy that he saw what the affectionate brother was after. ‘Well, Daly,’ continued Barry, after a minute’s pause; ‘after the old man died, we went on quiet enough for some time. I was up in Dublin mostly, about that confounded loan, and poor Anty was left here by herself; and what should she do, but take up with a low huxter’s family in the town here.&rsq............