Bram Stoker: The Complete Novels. A to Z Classics

old fellow, we are alone. What is it?”

      “It’s about Murdock.”

      “Not more than you told me in your letter, I hope. I owe you a good turn for that thrashing you gave him!”

      “Oh, that was nothing; it was a labor of love. What I want to speak of is a much more serious affair.”

      “Nothing to touch Norah, I hope?” I said, anxiously.

      “This individual thing is not, thank God! But everything which that ruffian can do to worry her, or any of us, will be done. We’ll have to watch him closely.”

      “What is this new thing?”

      “It is about old Moynahan. I am in serious doubt and anxiety as to what I should do. At present I have only suspicion to go on, and not the faintest shadow of proof, and I really want help and advice.”

      “Tell me all about it.”

      “I shall, exactly as I remember it; and when I have told you, you may be able to draw some conclusion which can help us.”

      “Go on; but remember I am, as yet, in ignorance of what it is all about. You must not take any knowledge on my part for granted.”

      “I’ll bear it in mind. Well, you remember what I said in my letter, that I had a suspicion of Murdock, and intended watching him?” I nodded. “Two nights after I had written that, the evening was dark and wet — just the weather I would have chosen myself had I had any mysterious purpose on hand. As soon as it got dark I put on my black water-proof and fishing-boots and a sou’wester, and then felt armed for any crouching or lying down that might be required. I waited outside Murdock’s house in the lane-way, where I could see from the shadows on the window that both men were in the house. I told you that old Bat Moynahan had taken up his residence entirely with the Gombeen Man —”

      “And that he was always drunk.”

      “Exactly. I see you understand the situation. Presently I heard a stumble on the stone outside the porch, and peeping in through the hedge I saw Murdock holding up old Moynahan. Then he shut the door and they came down the path. The wind was by this time blowing pretty strongly, and made a loud noise in the hedge-rows, and bore in the roar of the surf. Neither of the men could hear me, for I took care as I followed them to keep on the leeward side, and always with something between us. Murdock did not seem to have the slightest suspicion that anyone was even on the hillside, let alone listening, and he did not even lower his tone as he spoke. Moynahan was too drunk to either know or care how loud he spoke, and indeed both had to speak pretty loud in order to be heard through the sound of the growing storm. The rain fell in torrents, and the men passed down the boreen stumbling and slipping. I followed on the other side of the hedge, and I can tell you I felt grateful to the original Mackintosh, or Golosh, or whatever was the name of the Johnny who invented the water-proof. When they had reached the foot of the hill, they went on the road which curves round by the south-east, and I managed to scramble through the fir wood without losing sight of them. When they came to the bridge over the stream, where it runs out on the north side of the peninsula, they turned up on the far bank. I slipped over the bridge behind them, and got on the far side of the fringe of alders. Here they stopped and sheltered for a while, and as I was but a few feet from them I heard every word which passed. Murdock began by saying to Moynahan:

      “‘Now, keep yer wits about ye, if ye can. Ye’ll get lashins iv dhrink whin we get back, but remember ye promised to go over the ground where yer father showed ye that the Frinchmin wint wid the gun-carriage an’ the horses. Where was it now that he tuk ye?’ Moynahan evidently made an effort to think and speak:

      “‘It was just about this shpot wheer he seen thim first. They crast over the sthrame — there wor no bridge thin nigher nor Galway — an’ wint up the side ivthe hill sthraight up.’

      “‘Now, couldn’t ye folia the way yer father showed ye? Jist think. It’s all dark, and there’s nothin’ that ye know to confuse ye — no threes what has growed up since thin. Thry an’ remimber, an’ ye’ll have lashins iv dhrink this night, an’ half the goold whin we find it.’

      “‘I can go. I can show the shpot. Come on.’ He made a sudden bolt down into the river, which was running unusually high. The current almost swept him away; but Murdock was beside him in a moment, crying out:

      “‘Go an; the wather isn’t deep! don’t be afeerd! I’m wid ye.’ When I heard this, I ran around and across the bridge, and was waiting behind the hedge on the road when they came up again. The two men went up the Hill straight for perhaps a hundred yards, I still close to them; then Moynahan stopped:

      “‘Here’s about the shpot me father tould me that he seen the min whin the moon shone out. Thin they went aff beyant,’ and he pointed to the south. The struggle through the stream had evidently sobered him somewhat, for he spoke much more clearly.

      “‘Come on thin,’ cried Murdock, and they moved off.

      “‘Here’s wheer they wint to, thin,’ said Moynahan, as he stopped on the south side of the Hill — as I knew it to be from the louder sound of the surf which was borne in by the western gale. ‘Here they wor, jist about here, an’ me father wint away to hide from thim beside the big shtone at the Shleenanaher so that they wouldn’t see him’ Then he paused, and went on in quite a different voice:

      “‘There, now I’ve tould ye enough for wan night. Come home, for it’s chilled to the harrt I am, an’ shtarved wid the cowld. Come home; I’ll tell no more this night.’ The next sound I heard was the popping of a cork, and then the voice of Murdock in a cheery tone:

      “‘Here, take a sup of this, ould man. It’s chilled we both are, an’ cramped wid cowld. Take a good dhraw, ye must want it if ye’re as bad as lam!’ The gurgle that followed showed that he had obeyed orders; this was confirmed within an incredibly short time by his voice as he spoke again.

      “‘Me father hid there beyant. Come on.’ We all, each in his own way, moved down to the Shleenanaher, and stood there. Moynahan spoke first.

      “‘From here, he seen them jist over the ridge iv the hill. I can go there now; come on.’ He hurried up the slope, Murdock holding on to him. I followed, now crouching low, for there was but little shelter here. Moynahan stopped and said:

      “‘It was just here.’

      “‘How do ye know?’ asked Murdock, doubtfully.

      “‘How do I know! Hasn’t me father been over the shpot wid me a score iv times; aye, an’ a hundhred times afore that be himself. It was here, I tell ye, that he seen the min wid the gun-carriage for the last time. Do ye want to arguey it?’

      “‘Not me,’ said Murdock; and as he spoke I saw him stoop, for as I was at the time lying on the ground, I could see his outline against the dark sky. He was looking away from me, and as I looked, too, I could see him start as he whispered to himself:

      “‘Be God, but it’s thrue! There’s the gun-carriage.’ There it was, Art, true enough before my eyes, not ten feet away on the edge of the bog. Moynahan went on:

      “‘Me father tould me that the mountain was different at that time; the bog only kem down about as low as this. Musha! but it’s the quare lot it has shifted since thin!’ There was a pause, broken by Murdock, who spoke in a hoarse, hard voice:

      “‘An’ where did he see them nixt?’ Moynahan seemed to be getting drunker and drunker, as was manifest in his later speech; his dose of whiskey had no doubt been a good one.

      “‘He seen them next to the north beyant — higher up towards Murdock’s house.’

      “‘Towards Murdock’s house! Ye mane Joyce’s.’

      “‘No, I mane Black Murdock’s; the wan he had before he robbed Joyce. But, begor, he done himself! It’s on Joyce’s ground the money is. He’s a naygur, anyhow