The spirit of her antagonist, being that of a woman, could bear no more.  The last words were scarcely uttered, when Lowry made a spring like a tigress at her opponent, who, however, received this onset with a skill and intrepidity worthy of Penthesilea herself.  They were immediately separated, but not until they had twisted and twined about one another two or three times, after which, each displayed, by way of a trophy, a copious handful of hair that had changed proprietor-ship during their brief but energetic conflict.

In addition to this, there were visible on Kitty’s face five small streams of liquid gore, which, no doubt, would have been found to correspond with the red expanded talons of her antagonist.

John O’Brien then put the question seriously to Lowry, who, now that her blood was up, or probably feeling that she had betrayed herself, declined to answer it at all.

“I’ll answer nothin’ I don’t like,” she replied, “an’ I’ll not be ballyraged by any one—­not even by you, Misther John; an’ what’s more, I’ll lave the sarvice at the shriek o’ day to-morrow.  I wouldn’t live in the house wid that one; my life ’udn’t be safe undher the wan roof wid her.”

“Thin you’ll get no carrecther from any one here,” said Mrs. O’Brien; “for, indeed, any way, there was never a minute’s peace in the kitchen since you came into it.”

“Divil cares,” she replied, with a toss of her head; “if I don’t, I must only live widout it, and will, I hope.”

She then flounced out of the room, and kept grumbling in an insolent tone of voice, until she got to her bed.  Alick Nulty then detailed all the circumstances he had witnessed, by which it appeared unquestionable that Kitty Lowry had been aware of Flanagan’s design, and was consequently one of his accomplices.  This in one sense was true, whilst in another and the worst they did her injustice.  It is true that Bartle Flanagan pretended affection for her, and contrived on many occasions within the preceding five months, that several secret meetings should take place between them, and almost always upon a Sunday, which was the only day she had any opportunity of seeing him.  He had no notion, however, of entrusting her with his secret.  In fact, no man could possibly lay his plans with deeper design or more ingenious precaution for his own safety than Flanagan.  Having gained a promise from the credulous girl to elope with him on the night in question, he easily induced her to leave the hall door open.  His exploit, however, having turned out so different in its issue from that which Kitty expected, she felt both chagrined and confounded, and knew not at first whether to ascribe the abduction of Biddy Nulty to mistake or design; for, indeed, she was not ignorant of Flanagan’s treacherous conduct to the sex—­no female having ever repulsed him, whose character he did not injure whenever he could do so with safety.  Biddy’s return, however, satisfied her that Bartle must have