“Ay!” replied Kate, “I know you did—­that was the fire of hell you seen, ready to resave you; an’ the noise you hard was the voices of the devils that wor comin’ for your sowl—­ay, an’ the voices of the two wives you murdhered—­take care then, or I’ll send you sooner to hell than you dhrame of.”

The scowl which she had in return for this threat was beyond all description.

“Oh, I have done wid you,” he replied; “you’re not right, I say—­but never mind, I’ll put a pin in M’Mahon’s collar for this—­ay will I.”

“Don’t!” she exclaimed, in one fearful monosyllable, and then she added in a low condensed whisper, “or if you do, mark the consequence.”

“Trot, Phil,” said Teddy, “I think you needn’t throuble your head about M’Mahon—­he’s done fwhor.”

“An’ mark me,” said Kate, “I’ll take care of the man that done for him.  I know him well, betther than he suspects, an’ can make him sup sorrow whenever I like—­an’ would, too, only for one thing.”

“An’ fwhat’s dhat wan thing?” asked Phats.

“You’ll know it when you’re ouldher, may be,” replied Kate; “but you must be ouldher first—­I can keep my own secrets, thank God, an’ will, too—­only mark me all o’ yez; you know well what I am—­let no injury come to Bryan M’Mahon.  For the sake of one person he must be safe.”

“Well,” observed Teddy, “let us hear no more about them; it’s all settled that we are to set up in Glen Dearg above again—­for this Hycy,—­who’s sthrivin’ to turn the penny where he can.”

“It is,” said Bat; “an’, to-morrow night, let us bring the things up—­this election will sarve us at any rate—­but who will come in?” (* That is, be returned.)

“The villain of hell!” suddenly exclaimed Kate, as if to herself; “to go to ruin the young man!  That girl’s breakin’ her heart for what has happened.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” asked her husband.

“Nothing,” she replied; “only if you all intend to have any rest to-night, throw yourselves in the shake-down there, an’ go sleep.  I’m not to sit up the whole night here, I hope?”

Philip, and Ned, and Teddy tumbled themselves into the straw, and in a few minutes were in a state of perfect oblivion.

“Hycy Burke is a bad boy, Bat,” she said, as the husband was about to follow their example; “but he is marked—­I’ve set my mark upon him.”

“You appear to know something particular about him,” observed her husband.

“Maybe I do, an’ maybe I don’t,” she replied; “but I tell you, he’s marked—­that’s all—­go to bed now.”

He tumbled after the rest, Kate stretched herself in an, opposite corner, and in a few minutes this savage orchestra was in full chorus.