"I'll tell you what, Sir," said Joe Reynolds, and he laid his hand on Thady's knee, and leant forward till his mouth was near the young man's ear – so near, that not only could not McGovery overhear his words, but of the whole party round the fire, only Brady and Byrne, besides Thady himself, could catch what he said; "I'll tell you what, Sir, Keegan shall never harum you or yours, if you'll be one of us – one of us heart and sowl; and I know you will, and I know it's not in you to put up with what they're putting on you; an' dearly he'll pay for the blow he strik you, an' the word he said – surely, Mr. Thady!" And he whispered still lower into his ear, "Let alone the esthate, an' the house, an' all that, you'd niver put up with what he has been about this day, paceable an' in quiet?"

"You're thrue in that, Joe, by G – d!"

"Well then, won't we see you righted? Let the bloody ruffian come to Ballycloran, an' then see the way he'll go back again to Carrick. Will you say the word, Mr. Thady? Will you join us agin thim that is as much, an' a deal more, agin you than they are agin us?"

"But what is it you main to do?"

"That's what you'll know when you've joined us; but you know it isn't now or here we'd be telling you that which, maybe, would put our necks in your hand. But when you've taken the oath we've all taken, we'll be ready then not only to tell you all, but follow you anywhere."

The young man paused.

"Isn't it enough for you to know that our inimies is your inimies – that thim you wishes ill to, we wishes ill to? Isn't Keegan the man you've most cause to hate, an' won't we right you with him? Don't we hate that bloody Captain that is this moment playing his villain's tricks with your own sisther in the next room there? and shure you can't feel very frindly to him. By the holy Virgin, when you're one of us, it's not much longer he shall throuble you. If you can put up with what the likes of them is doing to you – if you can bear all that – why, Mr. Thady, you're not the man I took you for. But mind, divil a penny of rint 'll ever go to Ballycloran agin from Drumleesh; for the matter's up now; – you're either our frind or our inimy. But if, Mr. Thady, you've the pluck they all says you have – an' which I iver see in you, God bless you! – it's not only one of us you'll be, but the head of us all; for there isn't one but 'll go to hell's gate for your word; an' then the first tinant on the place that pays as much as a tinpenny to Keegan, or to any but jist yourself – by the cross! he may dig his own grave."

What Thady immediately said does not much signify; before long he had promised to come over to Mrs. Mulready's at Mohill with Pat Brady, on an appointed night, there to take the oath of the party to whom he now belonged.

Though it was agreed that the secret determinations of the party were not to be divulged to him until he had joined them there, it nevertheless was pretty clearly declared that their immediate and chief object was the destruction of Ussher, and, if possible, the liberation of the three men who had lately been confined in Ballinamore Bridewell, for the malt that had been seized in the cabin by Loch Sheen. However, to prevent the evil arising from this carelessness in the performance of their duties as conspirators, Thady was requested to swear on a cross made with the handles of two knives, that he would not divulge anything that had occurred or been said in that room that night – with which request he complied.

By the time this was done most of them were drunk, but none were so drunk as poor Macdermot. His intoxication, moreover, was unfortunately not of that sort which was likely to end in quiescence and incapability. It was a sign of the great degradation to which Macdermot had submitted, in joining these men, that in talking over the injuries which Ussher had inflicted on them all, he had quietly heard them canvass Ussher's conduct to his sister, and that in no measured terms. This had gone much against the grain with him at first, because he could not but strongly feel that, in abusing Ussher, they were equally reproaching Feemy. But the fall of high and fine feelings, when once commenced, is soon accomplished, even when the fall is from a higher dignity than those of Thady's had ever reached; and though, a few hours since, he would have allowed no one but Father John, even to connect his sister's name with Ussher, he had soon accustomed himself to hear the poorest tenant on his father's property speak familiarly on the subject, when urging him to join them in common cause against his enemy. But though he had so far sacrificed his sister's dignity in his drunken conversation with these men, he was not the less indignant with the man whose name they had so unceremoniously joined with hers; and he got up with the resolution to inform Ussher that the intercourse between him and Feemy must immediately cease. The spirits he had taken gave him a false feeling of confidence that he should find means to carry his resolution into effect without delay.

When he got into the outer room, Ussher and Feemy were not there. The dancing and drinking were going on as fast as ever; Shamuth, the piper, was in the same seat, with probably not the same tumbler of punch beside him, and was fingering away at his pipes as if the feeling of fatigue was unknown to him; and Mary, the bride, was still dancing as though her heart had not been broken all the morning with the work she had had to do. Biddy also, the Ballycloran housemaid, was in the seventh heaven of happiness – for hadn't she music and punch galore? and though the glory of her once well-starched cap was dimmed, if not totally extinguished by the dust and heat, her heart was now too warm with the fun to grieve for that, especially when such a neat made boy as Barney Egan was dancing foranenst her. It did not, however, add to her happiness, when, after being addressed once or twice in vain, she heard her young master's voice.

"Biddy – d'ye hear, and be d – d to you! – is your misthress gone home?"

"'Deed, Mr. Thady, I think she be."

"And why the divil, then, a'nt you gone with her? d'you mane to be dancing here all night?"

Now Thady was in general so very unobservant – so little inclined to interfere with, if he could not promote, the amusements of his dependants – moreover, so unaccustomed to scold – that Biddy and the others round her soon saw that something was the matter.

"What are you staring at, you born fool? If Miss Feemy's gone up to Ballycloran, do you follow her."

Thady's thick voice, red face, and sparkling eyes showed that he was intoxicated, and Biddy, if not preparing to obey him – for the temptation to stay was too strong – was preparing to pretend to do so, when Mary McGovery, by way of allaying Macdermot's wrath, said.

"I don't believe then, Mr. Thady, that Miss Feemy's gone home, at all at all. I think she and the Captain is only walked down the lane a bit, jist to cool themselves, for sure it's hot work dancing – "

Thady did not stop to ask any more questions, but hurried out of the door, and turning away from Ballycloran, walked as fast as his unsteady legs would carry him towards Mohill; and, unfortunately, Ussher and Feemy were strolling down the lane in that direction.

When Pat Brady saw Macdermot hurry out of the house, he said to his sister, "Begad! Mary, you'd better hurry down the lane – if Captain Ussher and Miss Feemy is in it – jist to take care of her; for he and the masther 'll have a great fight of it this night. The masther's blood's up, and the two'll be slating one another afore they're parted."

"Goodness gracious!" exclaimed Mary, "why don't you go yourself, Pat? Mr. Thady's taken a dhrop, and maybe he'll be hurting Miss Feemy or the Captain. Denis, dear," – her husband came in the room just then, – "there's a ruction between the Captain and Mr. Thady; in God's name go and bring away Miss Feemy!"

Ussher and Feemy had not been out of the house many minutes; it was a beautiful mild moonlight night in October, and as the girl had said, they had come out to cool themselves after the heat and noise and dirt of the room in which they had been dancing. Myles was in one of his best humours; he had persuaded himself that he had no real danger to fear from the men who, as he was told, were so hostile to him. Feemy, too, had looked very pretty and nice, and had not contradicted him; and whereas what Thady had drunk had made him cross, Ussher had only just had enough to make him good-humoured. Feemy too was very happy; she had contrived to forget her brother's croaking and Father John's warning, or at least the misery which they had occasioned her, and was very happy in Ussher's good-humour. It were bootless to repeat their conversation, or to tell how often it was interrupted by some unchided caress on the part of Ussher. Feemy, however, had not forgotten her resolution, and was bringing up all her courage to make some gentle hint to Myles on the subject on which she had promised Father John to speak to him, when her heart sunk within her, on hearing her brother's voice calling to her from behind.

"Good heaven, Myles, there's Thady! what can he be wanting here?"

Ussher's arm fell from the fair girl's waist as he answered, "Never fear, dear, don't you speak to him; leave him to me." By this time, Thady had nearly joined them.

"Is that you, Feemy, here at this hour? What the d – are you doing there, this time of night? Here, take my arm, and come home; it's time you had some one to mind you, I'm thinking."

Feemy saw that her brother was intoxicated, and was frightened; she turned, though she did not take his arm, and Ussher turned too.

"Your sister's not alone, Macdermot; as I'm with her, I don't think you have much cause to fear, because she is about a mile from Ballycloran."

"May be, Captain Ussher, you're being with her mayn't make her much safer; at any rate you'll let me manage my own affairs. I suppose I can take my sisther to her own home without your interference," and he took hold of his sister's arm, as if to drag it within his own.

"Good heavens, Thady, what are you afther? shure an't I walking with you; don't be dragging me!"

"It appears to me, Macdermot," said Ussher, "that though your sister was in want of no protector before you came, she is in great want of one now."

"She wanted it thin, and she wants it now, and will do as long as she's fool enough to put herself in the way of such as you; but, by G – d, as long as I'm with her, she shall have it!" and he dragged her along by the arm.

"But, Thady," said the poor girl, afraid both of her brother and her lover, and hardly knowing to which to address herself; "but, Thady, you're hurting me, and I'll walk with you quiet enough. I was only getting a little cool afther the dancing, and what's the great harm in that?"

"Well – there," and he let her go, "I'm not hurting you now; it's very tender you've got of a sudden, when I touch you. Captain Ussher, if you'll plaze to go on, or stay behind, I'll be obliged, for I want to spake to Feemy; and there's no occasion in life for my throubling you to hear what I've to say."

"You can say what you like, Macdermot, but I shan't leave you; for though Feemy's your sister, you're not fit to guide her, or yourself either, for you're drunk."

"And there you lie, Captain Ussher! you lie – that's what you're used to! but it's the last of your lies she'll hear."

"Ah! you're drunk," replied Ussher, "besides, you know I'd not notice what you'd say before your sister; if, however, you're not so very drunk as to forget what you've called me to-morrow morning, and would then like to repeat it, I'll thrash you as you deserve."

"Then, by Jasus, you'll have your wish! you asked me to-night if I had a mind to quarrel with you, and now I'll tell you, if I find you at Ballycloran schaming agin, you'll find me ready and willing enough."

"That's where you'll find me to-morrow morning then, for I'll certainly come to ask your sister how she is, after the brutal manner you've frightened her this night; and then perhaps you'll have the goodness to tell me what you mean by what you call 'schaming.'"

"I'll tell you now, then; it's schaming to be coming with your lies and your blarney afther a girl like Feemy, only maning to desave her – it's schaming to go about humbugging a poor silly owld man like my father, – and it's the higth of schaming and blackguardness to pretend to be so frindly to a family, when you know you're maning them all the harum in your power to do. But you'll find, my fine Captain, it an't quite so asy to play your thricks at Ballycloran as you think, though we are so poor."

Feemy, when the young men had begun to use hard words to one another, had commenced crying, and was now sobbing away at a desperate rate.

"Don't distress yourself, Feemy," said Ussher, "your brother 'll be more himself to-morrow morning; he'll be sorry for what he has said then – and if he is so, I am not the man to remember what any one says when they've taken a little too much punch."

They had now come near enough to Mrs. Mehan's to see that there were a number of people outside the door. As soon after Thady's departure as Denis McGovery and the rest had been able to make up their minds what it would be the best to do in the emergency of the case, Denis and his wife sallied forth; the former to carry home whichever of the combatants might be slaughtered in the battle, and Mary to give to Feemy what comfort and assistance might be in her power. Pat Brady prudently thought that under all circumstances it would be safest for himself to remain where he was. The married pair, however, bent on peace if possible, and if not, on assuaging the horrors of war, had barely got into the road, when they encountered Father John returning to the wedding party.

"Oh, and it's yer riverence is welcome agin this blessed evening. God be praised that sent you, for it's yerself 'll be wanted, I'm afeard, and that immediately."

It was some time before the priest could learn what was the matter. At last he discovered that Ussher and Feemy had gone out walking, – that Thady had got drunk, and had gone after them; and he was inquiring whether he had gone towards Mohill, or towards Ballycloran, which none of them knew, when the three came in sight.

Father John instantly walked up to them, and if he had learnt it from nothing else, soon discovered from Feemy's tears, that something was the matter.

"How are you, Thady?" he said, putting out his hand to take the young man's, which was given with apparent reluctance; "how are you? is there anything wrong, that Feemy is crying so?"

"Oh, you know, Father John, there is a d – d deal wrong, and I've jist told the Captain what it is, that's all. I'll not have the girl humbugged any longer, that's all."

"There must be a great deal wrong, Thady, when you'd curse that way before me."

"I can't be picking my words now, for priest or parson."

They were now surrounded by the whole crowd out of the house, who were staring and gaping, and absolutely shocked at Thady's impudence to his friend and priest. Feemy was sobbing, and on Ussher offering her his arm to take her from the crowd, took it.

"By G – d!" exclaimed Thady, "if you touch that ruffian's arm again, I'll niver call you sisther, or shall you iver call me brother; so now choose betwixt us."

Feemy dropped her hand from Ussher's arm, but turning to the priest, she said, "For heaven's sake take him away, Father John, he's drunk!"

"Drunk or sober, you may choose now; it's either me or him; but if you disgrace yourself, you shall not disgrace me!"

Father John took Feemy's arm on his, and telling the people to go back to their dancing, laid his hand on Thady's shoulder, and said.

"At any rate, Thady, come a little out of this; if you must speak to your sister in that way, you don't wish all the parish to hear what you're saying."

"What matthers, Father John; what matthers? Shure they've all heard too much already; – don't they all say she's the blackguard's misthress?"

"Oh, Thady, how can you repeat that word of me?" sobbed the poor girl.

"Why did you let them say it? Why don't you tell the man that's blackening your name while he's desaving you, to be laving you now, and not following you through the country like a curse?"

By this time the whole party, consisting of Father John, the two young men, and Feemy, were walking on rapidly towards Ballycloran. Feemy was crying, but saying nothing. Ussher was silent, although Thady was heaping on him every term of abuse he could think of; – and Father John was in vain attempting to moderate his wrath. Thus they continued until they came to the avenue leading up to the house, and on Ussher's proceeding with them through the gate, Thady put himself in the way, stopping him.

"You'll not come a step in here, Captain, if I know it; you might follow us along the road, for I couldn't help it, – but, by G – d, you don't come in here!"

"Nonsense, man; do you think I'll stop out for a drunken man's riot? let me pass."

"Set a foot in here, you blackguard, and I'll stretch you!"

Thady had an alpine in his hand, and was preparing to strike a blow at the Captain, exactly on the spot where Keegan had struck him, when the priest pushed his burly body in between them. "I'll have no blows, boys, at any rate while I'm with you; put your stick down, Thady," and he forced the young man's stick down; "run up to the house, Feemy, and get to bed; I'll see you in the morning." Feemy, however, did not move. "Now, Captain Ussher, I am not saying a word on the matter, one way or other, for I don't well know how the quarrel began, – but do you think it's well to be forcing your way in here, when the master desires you not?"

"But, Mr. McGrath, I've yet to learn that this drunken fellow is master here; besides, I suppose it is not a part of his project to rob me of my horse, which is in his father's stable."

Thady was at length persuaded to allow Ussher to go to the stables for his horse, and the Captain, after what had passed, did not now wish to go into the house. He was, however, going up to Feemy to shake hands with her, when the priest caught him by the arm, saying, —

"Why would you anger a drunken man, and that too, when the feeling in his heart is right? I'll tell you what, Captain, if what that young man fears is true, you're almost as much worse than him as vice is than virtue."

"Spare me your sermon now, Father John; if I see you to-morrow I'll hear it in patience," and he galloped down the avenue.

Thady and Feemy went into the house, and we hope each got to bed without further words; and Father John walked slowly home, thinking of all the misery he saw in store for his parishioners at Ballycloran.

CHAPTER XIV
DENIS M'GOVERY'S TIDINGS

As soon as he had finished his breakfast on the morning after the night's events just recorded, Father John took his hat and stick, and walked down to Drumsna, still charitably intent on finding some means to soften, if he could not avert, the storm which he saw must follow the scenes he had witnessed on the previous evening. Ussher would have considered it want of pluck to stay away because Thady had told him to do so; Feemy also would encourage his visits, and would lean more to her lover than her brother – especially as her father, if it were attempted to make him aware of the state of the case, would be sure to take Feemy's part. Father John felt it would be impossible to induce the old man to desire Ussher to discontinue his visits, and he was confident that unless he did so, the Captain would take advantage of the unfortunate state of affairs at Ballycloran, and consider himself as an invited guest, in spite of the efforts Thady might make to induce him to leave it. But what the priest most feared was, that the unfortunate girl would be induced to go off with her lover, who he knew under such circumstances would never marry her; and his present object was to take her out of the way of such temptation. Father John gave Feemy credit for principles and feelings sufficiently high to prevent her from falling immediately into vice, but he at the same time feared, that with the strong influence Ussher had over her, he might easily persuade her to leave her home, partly by promising at some early time to marry her, and partly by threatening her with desertion. He thought that if she were at present domiciled at Mrs. McKeon's, Ussher might then be brought to hear reason, and be made to understand that if he was not contented to propose for and marry Feemy, in a proper decent manner, he must altogether drop her acquaintance.

He was not far wrong in the estimate he formed of both their characters. Though Ussher loved Feemy, perhaps as well as he was ever likely to love any woman, circumstances might easily have induced him to give her up. It was the impediments in the way, and the opposition he now met with, which would give the affair a fresh interest in his eyes. He certainly did not intend to marry the poor girl; had she had sufficient tact, she might, perhaps, have persuaded him to do so; but her fervent love and perfect confidence, though very gratifying to his vanity, did not inspire him with that feeling of respect which any man would wish to have for the girl he was going to marry. I do not say that his premeditated object had been to persuade her to leave her home, but Father John was not far wrong in fearing, that unless steps were taken to prevent it, it would be the most probable termination to the whole affair.

With regard to Feemy, he was quite right in thinking that her love of Ussher was strong enough to induce her to take almost any step that he might desire; and that that love, joined to her own obstinacy and determined resistance to the advice of those to whom she should have listened, was such as to render it most unlikely that she should be induced to give him up; but though he so well understood the weakness of her character, he was not aware of, for he had had no opportunity of trying, its strength.

As long as Feemy had her own way, as at the present time she had, she would, as we have seen, yield entirely to her strong love; but this was not all; had circumstances enabled her friends to remove her entirely out of Ussher's way, and had they done so, her love would have remained the same; her passion was so strong, that it could not be weakened or strengthened by absence or opposition. When Father John calculated that by good management Ussher might be brought to relinquish Feemy, he was right, but he was far from right, when he thought that Feemy could be taught to forget him. She literally cared for no one but him; her life had been so dull before she knew him, and so full of interest since – he so nearly came up to her beau ideal of what a man should be, for she had seen, or at any rate had known, no better – he so greatly excelled her brother and father, and was so much better looking than young Cassidy, and so much more spirited than Frank McKeon, that to her young heart he was all perfection.

She had lately been vexed, tormented, and even frightened; but her fear was merely that Ussher did not love her as she did him – that he might be made to leave her; and she was learning to hate her brother for opposing, as she would have said, the only source of her happiness. As to being induced by prudence or propriety to be cool to her lover – as to taking the first step herself towards making a breach between them – nothing that her brother or the priest had said, nothing that they could ever say, could either make her think of doing so, or think that it could be advisable, or in any way proper, that she should do so. For this strong feeling Father John did not give our heroine credit; but he still felt that she was headstrong enough to make it a very difficult task for him to manage her in any way. But as his charity was unbounded, so were his zeal and courage great.

His present plan was to induce his friend, Mrs. McKeon, to ask Feemy to come over and spend some time with her and her daughters at Drumsna. There were difficulties in this; for, in the first place, although Feemy and the Miss McKeons had been very good friends, still the reports which had lately been afloat, both about her and the affairs of her family, might make Mrs. McKeon, a prudent woman, unwilling to comply with the priest's wishes – though indeed it was not often that she contradicted him in anything; then, after he had talked Mrs. McKeon over, when he had aroused her charitable feelings and excited the good nature, which, to tell the truth, was never very dormant in her bosom, he had the more difficult task of persuading Feemy to accept the invitation. Not that under ordinary circumstances she would not be willing enough to go to Mrs. McKeon's, but at present she would be likely to suspect a double meaning in everything. Father John had already mentioned Mrs. McKeon's name to her, in reference to her attachment to Ussher; and it was more than probable that if he now brought her an invitation from that lady, she would perceive that the object was to separate her from her lover, and that she would obstinately persist in remaining at Ballycloran.

As Father John was entering Drumsna, he met his curate, Cullen, and McGovery, who, considering that he had only been married the evening before, and that if he had not been dancing himself, he had been kept up by his guests' doing so till four or five in the morning, had left his bride rather early; for, according to custom, he had slept the first night after his wedding at his wife's house, and, though it was only ten o'clock, he had been on a visit to Father Cullen, with whom he was now eagerly talking.

On the previous evening, when feigning to be asleep, he had managed to overhear a small portion of what had passed between Thady, Joe Reynolds, and the rest; but what he had overheard had reference solely to Keegan; for when they began to speak of Ussher, everything had been said in so low a voice, that he had been unable to comprehend a word. He had contrived, however, to pick up something, in which Ballycloran, rents, Keegan, and a bog-hole were introduced in marvellous close connection, and he was not slow in coming to the determination that he had been wrong when he fancied that Ussher was the object against whom plots were being formed, and that Keegan was the doomed man; but what was worse still, he was led to imagine that the perpetrators of Mr. Keegan's future watery grave were instigated by young Macdermot! He was well aware that Flannelly and Keegan, for they were all one, had the greater portion of the rents out of Ballycloran, and he now plainly saw that the more active of this firm was to be made away with, while collecting, or attempting to collect, the rent.

Denis was puzzled as to what he should do; his conscience would not allow the man to be murdered without his interference; he had no great love for Mr. Keegan, and his sympathies were not more strongly excited than they had been when he thought Ussher was to be the victim. Should he tell Mr. Keegan? that would be setting the devil in arms against his wife's brother – against his wife's brother's master – and against his wife's brother's master's tenants; this was too near cutting his own throat, to be a line of action agreeable to Denis. Then it occurred to him to have recourse again to Father John: but Father John had made light of his former warning. Besides, the fact of his having been wrong in his last surmises, would have thrown stronger doubts on those he now entertained. Father John too was always quizzing him, and Denis did not like to be quizzed. After much consideration, McGovery resolved to go to Father Cullen, and disclose his secret to him; Father Cullen was a modest, steady man, who would neither make light of, or ridicule what he heard; and if after that Keegan was drowned in a bog-hole, it would be entirely off Denis's conscience.

When Father John met the pair, they had just been discussing the subject; Cullen was far from making light of it; for, in the first place, he believed every word McGovery told him, and in the next, he was shocked, and greatly grieved, that one of his own parishioners, and one also of the most respectable of them, should be concerned in such a business: he felt towards Keegan all the abhorrence which a very bigoted and ignorant Roman Catholic could feel towards a Protestant convert, but he would have done anything to prevent his meeting his death by the hands, or with the connivance, of Thady Macdermot.

As soon as Cullen had heard McGovery's statement – which, by the by, had been made without any reference to his previous statement to Father John, or his warning to Captain Ussher – he determined to tell it all to the parish priest, and to take McGovery with him. This plan did not, however, suit Denis at all, and he used all his eloquence to persuade Father Cullen, that if he told Mr. McGrath at all, he, Denis, had better not make one of the party; and he was at the moment considering what excuse he could give for refusing to go into the priest's cottage, when they met Father John on the road coming into Drumsna.

Denis was greatly disconcerted, – but Cullen, full of his news, and as eager to communicate it as if it had been arranged definitely that Keegan was to be put into the bog-hole at noon precisely, was very glad to see him, and instantly opened his budget.

"I'm very glad to meet you this morning, Mr. McGrath," he began, "and it's well since you're out so early, that it's not the other way you went, – for I'd been greatly bothered if I hadn't found you."

"But here I am, you see, – and if it was only after me you were going, I suppose you can turn, for I'm going to Drumsna."

"Oh to be sure I can; don't you be going, Denis McGovery." Denis had taken off his hat, and muttering something about his wife, and "good morning, yer riverence," was decamping towards Ballycloran.