“Rouser Redhead,” said Bartle, “give me jour hand.  I say now, what I didn’t wish to say to-night afore, by Japurs, you’re worth five men; an’ I’ll tell you all, boys, you must meet the Rouser here to-morrow night, an’ we’ll have a dhrink at my cost; an’, boys—­Rouser, hear me—­you all know your oaths; we’ll do something to-morrow night—­an’ I say again, Rouser, I’ll be wid yez an’ among yez; an’ to prove my opinion of the Rouser, I’ll allow him to head us.”

“An’, by the cross o’ Moses, I’ll do it in style,” rejoined the hot-headed but unthinking fellow, who did not see that the adroit captain was placing him in the post of danger.  “I don’t care a damn what it is—­we’ll meet here to-morrow night, boys, an’ I’ll show you that I can lead as well as folly.

“Whatever happens,” said Bartle, “we oughtn’t to have any words or bickerin’s among ourselves at any rate.  I undherstand that two among yez sthruck one another.  Sure yez know that there’s not a blow ye giv to a brother but’s a perjury—­an’ there’s no use in that, barin an’ to help forid the thruth.  I’ll say no more about it now; but I hope there’ll never be another blow given among yez.  Now, get a hat, some o’ yez, till we draw cuts for six that I want to beat Tom Lynchagan, of Lisdhu; he’s worken for St. Ledger, afther gettin’ two notices.  He’s a quiet, civil man, no doubt; but that’s not the thing.  Obadience, or where’s the use of our meetin’s at all?  Give him a good sound batin’, but no further—­break no bones.”

He then marked slips of paper, equal in number to those who were present, with the numbers 1, 2, 3, &c, to correspond, after which he determined that the three first numbers and the three last should go—­all of which was agreed to without remonstrance, or any apparent show of reluctance whatever.  “Now, boys,” he continued, “don’t forget to attend to-morrow night; an’ I say to every man of you, as Darby Spaight said to the divil, when he promised to join the rebellion, ’phe dha phecka laght,’ (bring your pike with you,) bring the weapon.”

“An who’s the purty girl that’s goin’ to wet you, Captain Bartle?” inquired Dandy Duffy.

“The purtiest girl in this parish, anyhow,” replied Flanagan, unawares.  The words, however, were scarcely out of his lips, when he felt that he had been indiscreet.  He immediately added—­“that is, if she is of this parish; but I didn’t say she is.  Maybe We’ll have to thravel a bit to find her out, but come what come may, don’t neglect to be all here about half-past nine o’clock, wid your arms an’ ammunition.”

Duffy, who had sat beside Ned M’Cormiek during the night, gave him a significant look, which the other, who had, in truth, joined himself to Flanagan’s lodge only to watch his movements, as significantly returned.

When the men deputed to beat Lynchaghan had blackened their faces, the lodge dispersed for the night, Dandy Duffy and Ned M’Cormick taking their way home together, in order to consider of matters, with which the reader, in due time, shall be made acquainted.