[Valentine M’Clutchy, The Irish Agent by William Carleton]@TWC D-Link book
Valentine M’Clutchy, The Irish Agent

CHAPTER VIII
19/32

Come, Alick, put the woman aside, and tickle him up." "Keep aside, I tell you," said Steele, again addressing her--"keep aside, my good woman, till I obey my orders--and don't provoke me." Father Roche was again advancing to remonstrate with him, for the man's determination seemed likely to get stronger by opposition--when, just as the bayonet which had already passed under the woman's arm, was within a few inches of O'Regan's body, he felt himself dragged forcibly back, and Raymond-na-hattha stood before him, having seized both carbine and bayonet with a strong grip.
"Don't do that," he exclaimed--"don't--you'd hurt him--sure you'd hurt poor Hugh!" The touching simplicity of this language, which, to a heart possessing the least tincture of humanity, would have more, force than the strongest argument, was thrown away upon him to whom it was directed.
"Fling the blasted idiot off," shouted Sharpe; "don't you see he has let the cat out o' the bag--how could the man be hurted if he was dead; I knew it was a schame." To throw Raymond off, however, was easier said than done, as the fellow found on attempting it.

A struggle commenced between them, which, though violent, was not of long duration.

Raymond's eye got turbid, and glared with a fiery light; but otherwise his complexion did not change.

By a vehement twist, he wrenched the arms out of Steele's hands, hurling him from him at the same time, with such force, that he fell on the floor with a crash.
"Now," said he, pointing the bayonet to his neck, "would you like it ?---ha, ha!--think of that." Four carbines--the whole party consisting of five--were immediately levelled at him; and it is not improbable that half a minute more would have closed both his existence and his history, had not Father Roche and the widow both succeeded, with some difficulty, in drawing him back from the prostrate officer of justice.

Raymond, after a little time, gave up the arms; but his eye still blazed at his opponent, with a glare that could not be misunderstood.
Harman, who had hitherto taken no part whatsoever in the altercation, now interfered; and with feelings which he found it nearly impossible to restrain, pointed out to them the wanton cruelty of such conduct towards both the living and the dead.


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