We stood some moments
watching him knocking in the heads of casks and emptying bottles. I
thought he had gone mad, and approached him cautiously.
'Hello, Slavin!' I called out; 'what does this mean?'
He paused in his strange work, and I saw that his face, though resolute,
was quiet enough.
'It means I'm done wid the business, I am,' he said, in a determined
voice. 'I'll help no more to kill any man, or,' in a lower tone, 'any
man's baby.' The priest's words had struck home.
'Thank God, Slavin!' said Craig, offering his hand; 'you are much too
good a man for the business.'
'Good or bad, I'm done wid it,' he replied, going on with his work.
'You are throwing away good money, Slavin,' I said, as the head of a
cask crashed in.
'It's meself that knows it, for the price of whisky has riz in town
this week,' he answered, giving me a look out of the corner of his eye.
'Bedad! it was a rare clever job,' referring to our Black Rock Hotel
affair.
'But won't you be sorry for this?' asked Craig.
'Beloike I will; an' that's why I'm doin' it before I'm sorry for it,'
he replied, with a delightful bull.
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