“Ah, Mr. Hycy—­which is properly Hyacinthus,” said Finigan; “I am able to perceive that Cupid declines to be propitious in that quarter, or perhaps it’s the irae amantium,—–­which is, on being rendered into vernacularity, a falling out of lovers; and if so, do not despair; for as certain as it is, it will be followed by that most delectable of processes, the redintegratio amoris, or the renewing of love.  In fact, he is a little better than a tyro—­an ignoramus, who doesn’t quarrel at least once a week, wid the fair object of his amorous inclinations, an’ that for the sake of the reconciliaitons.”

Hycy and Hanna were now about to dance, when Philip Hogan came forward, and, with an oath, declared that Kathleen must dance—­“He wouldn’t see Mr. Burke insulted that way by any such airs—­and by—­she must dance.  Come,” said he, “what stuff is this—­we’ll see whether you or I is strongest;” and as he spoke he seized her rudely by the arm, and was about to pull her out on the floor.

Bryan M’Mahon sprung to his feet.  “Let her go, you ruffian,” he exclaimed; “let her go this instant.”

“No, I won’t,” replied the savage; “an’ not for you, at any rate.  Come, Miss Kathleen, out you’ll go:—­for you indeed,” he added, in a ferocious parenthesis, looking at Bryan; “it’s you that’s the cause of all this.  Come, miss, dance you must.”

The words were scarcely uttered when M’Mahon, by a single blow on the neck, felled him like an ox, and in an instant the whole place was a scene of wild commotion.  The Hogans, however, at all times unpopular, had no chance in an open affray on such an occasion as this.  The feeling that predominated was, that the ruffianly interference of Philip had been justly punished; and ere many minutes the usual harmony, with the exception of some threatening looks and ferocious under growls from the Hogans, was restored.  Hycy and Hanna then went on with their dance, and when it was over, the schoolmaster rose to depart.

“Mr. Burke,” said he, “you are and have the reputation of being a perfect gentleman homo factus ad unguem—­as has been said by the learned little Roman, who, between you and me, was not overburthened with an excess of morality.  I take the liberty, jinteels, of wishing you a good-night—­precor vobia prosperam noctem! Ah, I can do it yet; but it wasn’t for nothing that I practised the peripatetics in larned Kerry, where the great O’Finigan is not yet forgotten.  I shall now seek a contiguous place of repose, until the consequences of some slight bacchanalin libations on my part shall have dispersed themselves into thin air.”

He accordingly departed, but from the unsteadiness of his step it was clear that, as he said, the place of his repose must be contiguous indeed.  Had he been conscious of his own motions it is not likely he would have sought for repose in Cavanagh’s kiln, then the habitation of the Hogans.  It was probably the fact of the door having been left open, which was generally the case in summer, that induced him to enter—­for enter he did—­ignorant, it is to be presumed, that the dwelling he was about to enter was then inhabited by the Hogans, whom he very much disrelished.