Purcel was actually in the act of springing at him, whip in hand, when, fortunately, the priest interfered, and prevented a conflict which, from the strength and spirit by which the parties were animated, must have been a fearful one.

[Illustration:  Page 374—­ The priest interfered, and prevented a conflict]

“What is this?” said the worthy man; “in God’s name, what does this scandalous conduct, in such a place, and on such an occasion, mean?  Come between these madmen,” he proceeded, addressing the crowd, which had now collected about them.  “Keep them asunder!”

The two men were separated; but as each felt himself under the influence of strong resentment, they glared at one another with looks of fiery indignation.

“You had better keep out of my way, you impudent scoundrel,” said Purcel, shaking his whip at him; “and hark ye, make no more attempts to pay attention to any of my sisters, or, by the heavens above me, I will trace you through all your haunts, and flog you as I would a dog.”

“I’ll take care to give you the opportunity before long, Squire Purcel, or rather Squireen Purcel,” replied the Buck; “and what is more, I’ll see you and yours in my power yet.”

“You’re too ready wid your whip, Mr. Purcel,” said several voices from among the crowd; “and you do think it’s dogs you have to dale wid, as Mr. English says.”

“No,” said Purcel, with scom; “I deny it; my whip is never raised unless to the shoulders of some slavish, lying, and dishonest scoundrel, whom I prefer to punish rather than to prosecute.”

“Take. care it doesn’t come aginst you, then, some o’ these days,” said a voice.

“Ay,” added another, “or some o’ these nights!”

“Ah, you ungrateful and cowardly crew,” he replied, “who have not one drop of manly blood in your veins, I despise you.  Like all thorough cowards, you are equally slavish and treacherous.  Kindness is thrown away upon you, generosity you cannot understand, for open fight or open resentment you have neither heart nor courage—­but give you the hour of midnight, and your unsuspecting victim asleep—­or place you behind the shelter of a hedge, where your cowardly person is safe and invisible, with a musket or blunderbuss in your hands, and a man before whom you have crawled in the morning like reptiles, you will not scruple to assassinate that night.  Curse upon you! you are a disgrace to any Christian country, and I despise, I say, and defy you.  As for you, Buck English, avoid my path, and cross neither me nor any member of my family.”

“Alick Purcel,” said English, “mark my words—­I’ll put my thumb upon you and yours yet.  I say, mark them; for the day will come when you will remember them to your cost.”

Purcel gave him a stern look, and merely said—­“I’m prepared for you;” after which he and his brother John mounted their horses and dashed off at a rapid pace towards their father’s house, followed by the groans and hootings of the people—­far above all whose voices was heard that of Buck English, in loud and contemptuous tones.