The names that have escaped him, in
his delirium, have told me the truth."
As she spoke, a second door in the room was opened. An old woman showed
herself for a moment, trembling with terror. "He's breaking out again,
nurse! Help me to hold him!"
Mrs. Vimpany instantly followed the woman into the bed-room. "Wait and
listen," she said to Mountjoy--and left the door open.
The quick, fierce, muttering tones of a man in delirium were now
fearfully audible. His maddened memory was travelling back over his own
horrible life. He put questions to himself; he answered himself:
"Who drew the lot to kill the traitor? I did! I did! Who shot him on
the road, before he could get to the wood? I did! I did! Arthur
Mountjoy, traitor to Ireland. Set that on his tombstone, and disgrace
him for ever. Listen, boys--listen! There is a patriot among you. I am
the patriot--preserved by a merciful Providence. Ha, my Lord Harry,
search the earth and search the sea, the patriot is out of your reach!
Nurse! What's that the doctor said of me? The fever will kill him?
Well, what does that matter, as long as Lord Harry doesn't kill me?
Open the doors, and let everybody hear of it. I die the death of a
saint--the greatest of all saints--the saint who shot Arthur Mountjoy.
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