“Well, gintlemen, it puts me into a tremble, even at this time, to think of how little we cared about doing what we were bent upon.  Them that had to manage the business war more than half drunk; and, hard fortune to me! but you would think it was to a wedding they went—­some of them singing songs against the law—­some of them quite merry, and laughing as if they had found a mare’s nest.  The big fellow, Collier, had a dark lanthern wid a half-burned turf in it to light the bonfire, as they said; others had guns and pistols—­some of them charged and some of them not; some had bagnets, and ould rusty swords, pitchforks, and go on.  Myself had nothing in my hand but the flail I was thrashing wid that day; and to tell the thruth, the divil a step I would have gone with them, only for fraid of my health; for, as I said awhile agone, if any discovery was made afterwards, them that promised to go, and turned tail, would be marked as the informers.  Neither was I so blind, but I could see that there war plenty there that would stay away if they durst.

“Well, we went on till we came to a little dark corner below the house, where we met and held a council of war upon what we should do.  Collier and the other strangers from behind the mountains war to go first, and the rest were to stand round the house at a distance—­he carried the lanthern, a bagnet, and a horse-pistol; and half a dozen more war to bring over bottles of straw from Vengeance’s own haggard, to hould up to the thatch.  It’s all past and gone now—­but three of the Reillys were desperate against Vesey that night, particularly one of them that he had shot about a year and a half before—­that is, peppered two of the right-hand fingers of him, one night in a scuffle, as Vesey came home from an Orange lodge.  Well, all went on purty fair; we had got as far as the out-houses,where we stopped, to see if we could hear any noise; but all was quiet as you plase.

“‘Now, Vengeance,’ says Reilly, swearing a terrible oath out of him—­’you murdering Orange villain, you’re going to get your pay,’ says he.

“‘Ay,’ says Grogan, ’what he often threatened to others he’ll soon meet himself, plase God—­come, boys,’ says he, ’bring the straw and light it, and just lay it up, my darlings, nicely to the thatch here, and ye’ll see what a glorious bonfire we’ll have of the black Orange villain’s blankets in less than no time.’

“Some of us could hardly stand this:  ‘Stop, boys,’ cried one of Dan Slevin’s sons—­’stop, Vengeance is bad enough, but his wife and children never offinded us—­we’ll not burn the place.’

“‘No,’ said others, spaking out when they heard any body at all having courage to do so—­’it’s too bad, boys, to burn the place; for if we do,’ says they, ’some of the innocent may be burned before they get from the house, or even before they waken out of their sleep.’

“‘Knock at the door first,’ says Slevin, ’and bring Vengeance out; let us cut the ears off of his head and lave him.’