Liam O'Flaherty: Land

“Arrah! How could I cook with a man lying there and he waiting for the gates of Heaven to open?” Annie cried indignantly.

Lettice began to wash the cut delicately. The man shuddered as he felt the warm water on his head. Then he opened his eyes slowly and looked at Lettice. She dropped the cloth at once into the dish and drew back a little. They stared at one another for a few moments. They both looked startled. Then Lettice made a move to pick up the cloth once more. The man got frightened by her movement. He rose to a sitting position and swung his legs off the table.

“Lie down there, in God’s name,” Annie said, rushing towards him.

She caught him by the arms and tried to force him back to a reclining position. He brushed her aside.

“Don’t interfere with him,” Raoul said to the servant.

The man got to his feet and looked around the room. He stood with his legs far apart, his arms limp by his sides, swaying slowly back and forth.

“Where am I?” he muttered.

His name was Michael O’Dwyer. He was twenty-seven years old, six feet in height, with a rugged and deeply bronzed face, jet-black hair and blue eyes of great intensity. There was a suggestion of extraordinary power in his lean and muscular body, even now that he was dazed. He was dressed like a seaman in black top boots, oilskin trousers and a heavy blue woollen jersey.

“Sit down quietly,” Raoul said to him in a casual tone, “and allow us to wash that cut on your head. You are among friends. You needn’t be at all nervous. Do you understand?”

O’Dwyer stared at Raoul in silence for a little while. His face rapidly lost its dazed expression. He suddenly smiled.

“Thank you, sir,” he said to Raoul.

Raoul directed him to a chair that stood by the wall. He had just sat down when Elizabeth returned to the room with the bandages and ointment.

“Good gracious!” she said on catching sight of O’Dwyer.

Seeing that she was hostile to him, O’Dwyer jumped to his feet.

“Please don’t be disturbed,” Raoul said, touching the young man on the arm. “My sister is not going to hurt you in any way. She is just going to put some bandages and dressing on your cut. I assure you that you are among friends. Don’t be nervous.”

O’Dwyer looked at Raoul and smiled again. Then he nodded his head and resumed his seat. Even so, he glanced suspiciously at Elizabeth several times while she was dressing the cut.

“There now,” Elizabeth said, taking a pace to her rear briskly after she had finished. “That should suffice.”

She looked at O’Dwyer with an expression of disgust on her face.

“I have done my duty as a Catholic,” she said in a shrill tone, “but don’t get the idea that I approve of your conduct. On the contrary, I have the most profound loathing for your behaviour.”

Then she marched stiffly towards the door.

“Come along, Lettice,” she said before passing out of the room.

Lettice obeyed her aunt at once, but she halted before reaching the door. She looked towards O’Dwyer, flushed and then curtsied.

“I hope you recover soon,” she said gently. “Good day.”

O’Dwyer stared after her with his lips parted. He started when Raoul spoke to him, so deep was his concentration on the girl who had just left.

“Have some brandy?” Raoul said, coming over to the chair with the bottle. “Another nip will just about do the trick.”

O’Dwyer drank a good deal of the brandy. Then he jumped to his feet briskly.

“I feel fine now,” he said to Raoul as he returned the bottle. “I’m very grateful to you.”

Raoul made a grimace of disgust.

“I wish you wouldn’t use that word,” he said. “I find gratitude the most repulsive of human emotions.”

O’Dwyer looked at Raoul in amazement. Then he laughed.

“I must go,” he said. “Where is my cap?”

“I’ll find it for you,” Annie said.

She began to fuss around the room, looking for the cap. Raoul laughed. Annie looked at him and grumbled under her breath.

“This is a queer time to be making fun of people,” she said.

“But you’re wearing the cap, you fool,” Raoul said.

“Mother of God!” Annie said, putting her hand to her head. “What brought it there?”

“Lucky thing for us all,” Raoul said, “that Butcher was in a vile temper. Otherwise he would have smelt a rat.”

“Bloody woe!” Annie said. “If he had seen the cap on my head, I’d be hung.”

O’Dwyer fixed the cap carefully over his bandaged skull and then pulled a revolver from his pocket.

“Goodbye now, sir,” he said, stretching out his hand towards Raoul. “I won’t thank you, since you …”

“Excellent!” said Raoul, clasping the outstretched hand. “It has been a great pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’d like to see more of you, if I may. There are many things I could tell you, many useful things. Come and visit me when you get an opportunity.”

“I’ll do that, sir,” said O’Dwyer. “I’ll come as soon as I can.”

Then he shook hands with Annie and said with deep feeling:

“May God reward you for your kindness.”

Annie made the sign of the Cross in front of his face and said:

“May God go with you, treasure.”

O’Dwyer darted out of the house with the revolver in his hand. He had disappeared into the mist within a few seconds. Annie locked the door and put her back to it. She let her head loll to one side.

“What an extraordinary man!” Raoul said, staring at the ceiling and fingering the tip of his beard. “Really unusual!”

“Lord save us!” Annie said. “’Twill take me years to recover from this ferocious day.”

Raoul folded his arms on his chest and looked at the floor.

“Could it be destiny?” he said.

“What’s that, sir?” Annie said.

Raoul looked vaguely at the servant, put his hands in the pockets of his velvet jacket and walked out of the room.

“Could I have a word with you, Raoul?” Elizabeth said to him as he was going along the hall.

She was standing in the doorway of the living-room. Raoul looked at her vaguely as he passed, but he did not reply to her question. He went to the hall stand and took a black cloak from a peg.

“Did you hear me, Raoul?” Elizabeth said, coming over to him.

Raoul threw the cloak about his shoulders, posed before the little mirror that surmounted the stand and began to make foppish bow at his throat with the cloak ribbons.

“I heard you, Lizzie,” he said at length in a casual tone.

“Then why don’t you have the politeness to answer me?” Elizabeth said.

“First of all,” said Raoul, “I’m not at all polite. Secondly, I know very well what you are going to say and I want to avoid the necessity of scolding you. I’ve got excited. Excitement of any sort plays havoc with my digestion. I beg of you, Lizzie, not to argue with me at this moment. I’m going for a little walk, in order to compose myself before sitting down to table.”

Elizabeth came close to him and said in a tense whisper:

“I must know what you are going to do with that man.”

“You needn’t worry about that,” said Raoul as he took a black hat from a peg. “The man is gone about his business, whatever that may be. An astounding fellow. At one moment he was lying unconscious on the table. At the next, practically speaking, he was bounding away into the mist with the speed of a greyhound. I’d give a great deal to possess his strength and his energy. It’s really remarkable.”

“Do you mean to say that you have let him go?” said Elizabeth.

Raoul put on his hat, picked up a silver-mounted cane, threw back a corner of his cloak jauntily over his left shoulder and then turned towards his sister. He now looked rather like an actor in a melodrama.