These words brought a sneer of secret triumph upon Hourigan’s features, that was unquestionably very provoking.

“I beg to apologize to the court,” replied Purcel, “if for a moment I have forgotten what is due to it; but, in fact, your worship, there is not one word of truth in what he says.  His language was insolent and provoking beyond the limits of human patience.  He told me that both my father and myself were dishonest—­that we were oppressors of the poor, and blood-suckers; called us hardhearted and beggarly upstarts, and that we would sell our Church and our country for filthy lucre and upstart pride.  Instead, your worship, of promising to pay his tithes, he said we might go to hell for them, and make the devil our paymaster, what he’ll be yet.  And further, he said he’d never pay a farthing of them, and set law, lawyers, police, military, and magistrates all at open defiance.  Now I beg to know, your worship, what loyal and peaceably-disposed man, that wishes to see the laws of his country, and those respectable magistrates that administer them, respected—­what man, I say, fond of peace and quietness, could bear such language as that?  It is not what he said of either myself or my family that I contain of, but of the abuse he heaped upon the law at large, and the independent magistrates of the country.  I certainly, in the heat of the moment, so far resented the affront offered to the most respectable magistracy of this fine country as to give him a few slight touches of the whip, more like one in jest, I assure your worship, than like an angry man.”

“Hourigan,” said O’Driscol, swelling up to a state of the most pompous indignation, “this is infamous conduct which he relates of you, sir.  How dare you, sir, or any impudent fellow like you, take the undaicent and unjustifiable liberty of abusing the independent and loyal magistracy of Ireland?  It is by fellows like you, sir, that traison and sedition are hatched.  Your conduct was gross and monstrous, and if Mr. Purcel had come to me and made affidavit of the language stated, I would have consithered it my duty to commit you.  Such language, sirra, was seditious!”

“Yes,” replied Hourigan, “and you would be right; but there is not one word of truth in what Mr. Purcel says, your worship; for instead of that, plaise your reverence, when I threatened to come to you to get the law against him—­’I’ll go to Squire Driscol,’ says I, ’and that’s the gintleman that will give me justice at any rate.’  ’You and Squire Driscol may go be hanged,’ says he; ’I don’t regard him a traneen; he thinks, since he has been made into a justice of pace, that the ground’s not worthy to carry him,’ says he.  Can you deny that, Mr. John?”

Purcel’s limbs began to move, and his very flesh to creep with indignation at the impudent but artful falsehoods of Hourigan, who was likely to succeed in touching the magistrate’s weak points with such effect as to gain him over to his side.