ree restored, although the pain he suffered amounted to
torture. The surgeon (who was also a physician, and, moreover, supplied
his own medicines) and the priest, as they lived in the same town, both
arrived together. The latter administered the rites of his church to
him; and the former, who was a skilful man, left nothing undone to
accomplish his restoration to health. He had been shot through the body
with a bullet--a circumstance which was not known until the arrival of
the surgeon. This gentlemen expressed much astonishment at his surviving
the wound, but said that circumstances of a similar nature had occurred,
particularly on the field of battle, although he admitted that they were
few.

Darby, however, who resolved to have something like a decided opinion
from him, without at all considering whether such a thing was possible,
pressed him strongly upon the point.

"Arrah, blur-an-age, Docthor Swither, say one thing or other. Is he to
live or die? Plain talk, Docthor, is all we want, an' no _feasthalagh_
(* nonsense)."

"The bullet, I am inclined to think," replied the Doctor, "must either
not have touched a vital part, or touched it only slightly. I have known
cases similar, it is true; but it is impossible for me to pronounce a
decisive opinion upon him just now."

"The divil resave the _yarrib_* ever I'll gather for you agin, so long
as my name's Darby More, except you say either 'life' or 'death,'" said
Darby, who forgot his character of sanctity altogether.

* Herb-Men of Darby's cast were often in the habit of
collecting rare medicinal plants for the apothecaries;
and not bad botanists some of them were.

"Darby, achora," said Mrs. Reillaghan, "don't crass the gintleman, an'
him sthrivin' to do his best. Here, Paddy Gormly, bring some wather till
the docthor washes his hands."

"Darby," replied the Doctor, to whom he was well known, "you are a good
herbalist, but even although you should not serve me as usual in that
capacity, yet I cannot say exactly either life or death. The case is too
critical a one; but I do not despair, Darby, if that will satisfy you."

"More power to you, Docthor, achora. Hell-an-age, where's that bottle?
bring it here. Thank you, Vread. Docthor, here's wishin' you
all happiness, an' may you set Mike on his legs wanst more! See,
Docthor--see, man alive--look at this purty girl here, wid her wet
cheeks; give her some hope, ahagur, if you can; keep the crathur's