As O'Connell drank the mixture Dr. McGinnis said in a whisper to
Angela:

"Let him have that every three hours: oftener if he wants to talk.
We've got to get his mind at rest. A good sleep'll make a new man of
him."

"There's no danger?" asked Angela in the same tone.

"None in the wurrld. He's got a fine constitution and mebbe the
buckshot was pretty clean. I've washed them out well."

"To think of men shot down like dogs for speaking of their country.
It's horrible! It's wicked! It's monstrous."

"Faith, the English don't know what else to do with them, Miss. It's
no use arguin' with the like of him. That man lyin' on that bed 'ud
talk the hind-foot off a heifer. The only way to kape the likes of
him quiet is to shoot him, and begob they have."

"I heard you, doctor," came from the bed. "If they'd killed me to-
day there would be a thousand voices would rise all over Ireland to
take the place of mine. One martyr makes countless converts."

"Faith, I'd rather kape me own life than to have a hundred thousand
spakin' for me and me dead. Where's the good that would be doin' me?
Now kape still there all through the beautiful night, and let the
blessed medicine quiet ye, and the coolin' ointment aize yer pain.
I'll come in by-and-by on the way back home. I'm goin' up beyant