“By Japurs,” thought he to himself, “there’s thraichery there, any how.”

This now to the Dandy was a moment of intense interest.  Though by no means a coward, or a young fellow of delicate nerves, yet his heart beat furiously against his ribs, and his whole frame shook with excitement.  He would, in truth, much rather have been engaged in the outrage, than forced as he was, merely to look on without an opportunity of taking a part in it, one way or the other.  Such, at least, were his own impressions, when the report of a gun was heard inside the house.

Dhar an Iffrin, thought he again, I’ll bolt in an’ see what’s goin’ an—­oh ma shaght millia mattach orth, Flanagan, if you spill blood—­Jasus above!  Well, any how, come or go what may, we can hang him for this—­glory be to God!

These reflections were very near breaking-forth into words.

“I don’t like that,” said one of the guards to another; “he may take the girl away, but it’s not the thing to murdher any one belongin’ to a dacent family, an’ of our own religion.”

“If it’s only the Bodagh got it,” replied his comrade, who was no other than Micky Malvathra, “blaizes to the hair I care.  When my brother Barney, that suffered for Caam Beal (crooked mouth) Grime’s business, was before his thrial, hell resave the taisther the same Bodagh would give to defind him.”

“Damn it,” rejoined the other, “but to murdher a man in his bed!  Why, now, if it was only comin’ home from a fair or market, but at midnight, an’ in his bed, begorra it is not the thing, Mickey.”

There was now a pause in the conversation for some minutes; at length, screams were heard, and the noise of men’s feet, as if engaged in a scuffle upon the stairs, for the hall-door lay open.  A light, too, was seen, but it appeared to have been blown out; the same noise of feet tramping, as if still in a tumult, approached the door, and almost immediately afterwards Flanagan’s party approached, bearing in their arms a female, who panted and struggled as if she had been too weak to shriek or call for assistance.  The hall-door was then pulled to and locked by those who were outside.

The Dandy could see, by the passing gleam of light which fell upon those who watched beside him, that their faces were blackened, and their clothes covered by a shirt, as was usual with the Whiteboys of old, and for the same object—­that of preventing—­themselves from being recognized by their apparel.

“So far so good,” said Flanagan, who cared not now whether his voice was known or not; “the prize is mine, boys, an’ how to bring ma colleen dhas dhun to a snug place, an’ a friendly priest that I have to put the knot on us for life.”

“By —–­,” thought Duffy, “I’ll put a different kind of a knot on you for that, if I should swing myself for it.”

They hurried onwards with as much speed as possible, bearing the fainting female in a seat formed by clasping their hands together.  Duffy still stood in his place of concealment, waiting to let them get so far in advance as that he might dog them without danger of being heard.  Just then a man cautiously approached, and in a whisper asked, “Is that Dandy?”