Liam O'Flaherty: Land

“Oh! Raoul,” she cried, “what have you done?”

She stood wringing her hands. Lettice was standing behind her.

“Damnation!” Raoul said.

“You have quarrelled with that man,” Elizabeth continued, “in spite of my imploring you not to do so. You have seized the very first opportunity to insult him.”

“Surely, my dear Lizzie,” said Raoul, “you couldn’t expect me to let that common knave’s insolence go unchallenged.”

“I know he is difficult and unpleasant,” Elizabeth said, “but you should have ignored his rudeness for your daughter’s sake. Now every house in the county is going to be closed against her. Captain Butcher is all-powerful these days. His word is law. We are going to be outcasts, just at a moment when Lettice …”

“Silence!” cried Raoul in a fury. “Do you think I could allow my daughter’s happiness to depend on that bounder’s favour?”

At that moment, they heard a cry of dismay come from the direction of the kitchen. They all looked and saw Annie Fitzpatrick running towards them. She was in a state of extreme agitation. She was still wearing the man’s cap that had aroused Raoul’s interest. On reaching the little group, she halted abruptly and put her palms against her large bosom.

“God forgive me,” she gasped, “I’m afraid I’ve smothered him.”

She threw out her arms and made a mumbling sound, like a person about to fall in a fit. Elizabeth and Lettice took hold of her, one on either side. That did not seem to help. On the contrary, she began to tremble violently on being touched. Then Raoul struck her a sharp blow on the cheek with the back of his hand.

“Control yourself,” he said harshly, “and tell me what has happened.”

“Raoul,” said Elizabeth, “you are disgusting. How could you be so cruel as to …?”

“Quiet, all of you,” said Raoul. “Don’t you see the woman has hysterics? You’ll drive me insane with your babbling. Speak up, Annie. What is the matter?”

The blow gradually brought the servant to her proper senses. She grew calm enough to speak coherently after another few seconds.

“I hid him in the settle-bed,” she said, “when I heard the Captain coming with his men. I put the clothes over him, for fear he’d be seen by anyone that opened up the settle. The clothes must have smothered him. He’s there now without a word or a move out of him, although I called him by name and shook him. He’s as dead as a door nail, God forgive me.”

“Good Lord!” said Elizabeth.

“How stupid of me!” said Raoul, hurrying towards the kitchen door. “I thought he had escaped when I saw you wearing his cap.”

Entering the kitchen, he saw that the lid of the settle-bed was again raised. The mattress and the blankets were scattered on the floor. On approaching the chest, he saw a man lying face upwards in its deep interior. There was a bloody cloth bound across the skull. One cheek was matted with blood. The rest of the face was deadly pale.

“Looks dead,” Raoul muttered. “What a ridiculous situation!”

He took the man’s wrist and felt the pulse. It was still beating faintly.

“Give me a hand,” he called out excitedly. “The fellow is not dead yet. He is merely unconscious. Fetch the brandy. Throw open the window and door. It’s stifling in here.”

He got his hands under the man’s armpits and managed to raise the limp body to a sitting posture by the time Annie and Elizabeth had reached him. Lettice had already run to fetch the brandy.

“Take his legs, Annie,” Raoul said. “Don’t be afraid. It’s not a corpse. Lucky thing for us all that it’s not a corpse. Nice kettle of fish it would be trying to explain the presence of a corpse under these circumstances. I loathe corpses. Heave now, Annie. Come on, woman. Don’t blubber. You got him in here. Now help to get him out.”

It was quite difficult getting the man out of the chest, owing to its narrow depth. Both Raoul and Annie were panting loudly by the time they had laid him on the table, which Elizabeth had cleared in the meantime.

“Phew!” said Raoul, drawing the back of his hand across his forehead. “I thought I asked somebody to open the window. It’s stifling here. Open that wretched window, Annie.”

“What’s the good of trying to open it, your honour?” Annie said. “Sure you know well it’s only an ornament. It’s built into the wall and it doesn’t open at all.”

“What’s that?” said Raoul. “You mean to say the window doesn’t open?”

Annie unbolted the door, threw it open and let a draught of fresh air into the smoky room. Then they set to work, trying to revive the unconscious man. At this point, it was the frail and nervous Elizabeth that proved to be the most efficient. She took charge of the operation.

“If you keep silent for a few seconds,” she said to Raoul, “we may succeed in getting something done.”

Raoul shrugged his shoulders, walked over to the fire and put his hands to the heat.

“Very well!” he said. “How I hate confusion or disorder of any sort!”

Lettice came with the brandy. Elizabeth poured some of it into the man’s mouth. Then she removed the bloody cloth. There was a long gash across the right side of the skull above the temple. She peered at it closely, bending down over the table.

“It’s just a scratch, really,” she said, “in spite of all the blood. No skull fracture, obviously. Probably a fall. That’s nothing serious.”

“He was like a man walking in his sleep when he came into the kitchen, Miss Elizabeth,” Annie said. “He didn’t know where he was. He frightened the life out of me, but sure worse was to happen.”

Elizabeth glared at Annie and said:

“It was most disloyal of you to conceal his presence.”

“Arrah! What else could I do?” Annie cried arrogantly.

“Come now,” said Raoul. “No silly bickering, please. Get this fellow on his feet as quickly as possible. Ha! He’s coming back to life. That’s most fortunate. I have a horror of corpses, even under the most convenient circumstances.”

The man had moved both his hands and his feet. Then he turned his head to one side and shuddered gently.

“Get some warm water, Annie,” Elizabeth said. “We must wash this cut thoroughly. I’m going to fetch ointment and bandages. It needs a proper dressing.”

“You needn’t bother, Miss Elizabeth,” Annie said gruffly. “I put a scraped potato on it and it’s well known that a scraped potato is the best cure for a cut. Sure, the bleeding is stopped already and it will cure itself now with the help of God.”

Elizabeth glanced with disapproval at the particles of mashed potato that clung to the outer edges of the cut. Then she glared once more at the servant.

“Get some warm water,” she said as she walked out of the room, “and wash the cut thoroughly. Be quick about it.”

Annie wagged her head from side to side quickly, like a boxer dodging repeated jabs of an opponent’s fists, as she watched Elizabeth go out of the kitchen. Then she took a small dish and poured hot water into it from one of the kettles. She took a clean cloth and approached the table with obvious reluctance, muttering under her breath. Finally, she put the dish on the table, put her hands on her hips and turned to Raoul angrily.

“Everybody knows that a scraped potato is best for a cut,” she cried in an arrogant tone.

“I refuse to take sides in your dispute with my sister,” Raoul said quietly. “Attend to the injured man, like a good woman.”

“Let me do it, Annie,” Lettice said.

She went to the table and moistened the cloth in the warm water.

“That’s much better,” Raoul said. “You carry on with your cooking, Annie. I have a horrible feeling that the stew is going to be ruined as a result of all this.”