He sat down in a chair confronting them, his empty right hand depending near to the floor, and a thin stream of blood already trickling down his knuckles, his face smiling, and shining whitely with the damp of anguish, and the cold low 'ha, ha, ha!' mocking the reality of the scene.
'Heinous old villain!' said Lowe, advancing on him.
'Well, gentlemen, I've shown fight, eh ?--and now I suppose you want my watch, and money, and keys--eh ?' 'Read the warrant, Sir,' said Lowe, sternly.
'Warrant! hey--warrant ?--why, this is something new--will you be so good as to give me a glass of water--thank you--hold the paper a moment longer--I can't get this arm up.' With his left hand he set down the tumbler-glass, and then held up the warrant.
'Thank ye.

Well, this warrant's for Charles Archer.' '_Alias_ Paul Dangerfield--if you read, Sir.' 'Thank you--yes--I see--that's news to me.

Oh! Mr.Lowe--I did not see _you_--I haven't hurt you, I hope?
Why the plague do you come at these robbing hours?
We'd have all fared better had you come by daylight.' Lowe did not take the trouble to answer him.
'I believe you've _killed_ that constable in the exercise of his duty, Sir; the man's dead,' said Lowe, sternly.
'Another gloss on my text; why invade me like housebreakers ?' said Dangerfield with a grim scoff.
'No violence, Sirrah, on your peril--the prisoner's wounded,' said Lowe, catching the other fellow by the collar and thrusting him back: he had gathered himself up giddily, and swore he'd have the scoundrel's life.
'Well, gentlemen, you have made a _false_ arrest, and shot me while defending my person--_you_--four to one!--and caused the death of your accomplice; what more do you want ?' 'You must accompany us to the county gaol, Sir; where I'll hand in your committal.' 'Dr.Toole, I presume, may dress my arm ?' 'Certainly, Sir.' 'Good! what more ?' 'There's a coach at the door, you'll please to step in, Sir.' 'Good, Sir, again; and now permit me to make a remark.

I submit, Sir, to all this violence, and will go with you, under protest, and with a distinct warning to you, Mr.Lowe, and to your respectable body-guard of prize-fighters and ruffians--how many ?--two, four, five, six, upon my honour, counting the gentleman upon the floor, and yourself, Sir--seven, pitted against one old fellow, ha, ha, ha!--a distinct warning, Sir, that I hold you accountable for this outrage, and all its consequences.' 'See to that man; I'm afraid he has killed him,', said Lowe.
He was not dead, however, but, as it seemed, suffering intense pain, and unable to speak except in a whisper.

They got him up with his back to the wall.
'You issue a warrant against another man whom I believe to be dead, and execute it upon _me_--rather an Irish proceeding, Sir; but, perhaps, if not considered impertinent, you will permit me to enquire what is the particular offence which that other person has committed, and for which you have been pleased to shoot me ?' 'You may read it on the warrant, Sir; 'tis for a murderous assault on Doctor Sturk.' 'Hey?
better and better! why, I'm ready to pay five hundred guineas to make him speak; and you'll soon find how expensive a blunder you've committed, Sir,' observed Dangerfield, with a glare of menace through his hollow smile.
'I'll stand that hazard, Sir,' rejoined Lowe, with a confident sneer.
The dreadful sounds of the brief scuffle had called up the scared and curious servants.