"Well, Denis," said Father John, "I believe I've done all I can this time; and as I know you'll want to be looking after the cow that's in calf--no, not the cow, but the pigs--I'll be off."

"Folly on, Father John, folly on; it's always the way with yer riverence--to be making yer game of a poor boy like me! But you're not going out of this till you've dhrunk Mary's health here, and heard a tune on the pipes, any way."

"Not a drop, Denis, thank ye," and Father John got up; "and now, boys and girls, good night, and G.o.d bless you--and behave yourselves."

"Faix, then, yer riverence," said Joe Reynolds from the bottom of the table, "you may tell by the way the boys take to the bottle, that they'll behave themselves dacently and discreatly, like Christians."

"Indeed, then, Reynolds, where you are, and the whiskey with you, I believe there's likely to be little discretion but the discretion of drunkenness,--and not much of that."

"Thank ye, Father John, and it's you have always the kind word for me."

"But, Father John," began Mary, "you're not really going to go without so much as a tumbler of punch?"

"Not a drop, Mary, my dear; I took my punch after dinner--and I can't stand too much. Good night, Feemy--you'll stay and have a dance I suppose; good night, Captain Ussher."

And Father John got up from table, and went out of the room. As soon, however, as Denis saw that he was really going, he rose and followed him out of the door.

"Sit down, Denis, sit down--don't be laving your company such a night as this."

"But I want to have jist a word with yer riverence."

"Well, what is it?"

"Jist step outside then, Father John."

"Well, Denis; is it anything about Betsy Cane? or has Ginty come home, and is he wanting the pigs?"

"No, but would you just step outside here, Mr. McGrath; where those long-eared ruffians won't be hearing me?" and he and the priest walked a little distance from the door of Mrs. Mehan's house.

"I'm afeard, Father John, them born divils from Drumleesh and Mohill, as Pat brought here to-night, are maning more than good to Captain Ussher."

"And what makes you think that, Denis?"

"Why, Father John, Mary was saying that Pat towld her a lot of his own frinds would be up with him, and that if they war talking together, she and those as are with her dancing and the like, warn't to be disturbing them; and then I knows them boys is very mad with the Captain about that whiskey business up at Loch Sheen; and then Joe Reynolds and Jack Byrne are in it, and their brothers are two of them as war sazed and are now in Ballinamore Bridewell;--and I know there is something of the sort going on through the counthry; and faix, Father John, I wouldn't for money that anything happened, and I in it the while; for a poor boy is always made to be mixed up in them affairs, if by bad luck he is anywhere near at the time."

"But what do you think they'd do to the Captain to-night, Denis?"

"Faix then, yer riverence, I don't know what they'd be doing,--murther him, maybe."

"G.o.d forbid! But, Denis, those men from Drumleesh could hardly know Captain Ussher was going to be at the wedding to-night."

"Oh! yer riverence, they'd know it well enough from Pat Brady."

"But you don't think your wife's brother would join a party to murder Ussher?"

"Why then, Father John--I think it's just he that would be putting the others up to it."

"Good gracious, Denis! and what would he get by such deeds as that?

Isn't he comfortable enough."

"It isn't them as is poorest, is always the worst. But any how, Father John, if you'd come back, and yer riverence wouldn't mind for the onst jist sitting it out--jist dhrinking a dhrop at an odd time, or colloguing a bit with owld Mr. Tierney, till we get the Captain out of that, shure they'd never be doing anything out of the way as long as yer riverence is in it."

"It isn't here--in the house, where there are so many together--they'd attack him, even if they meant to do so; and I don't think they mean it to-night; but it's on his way home--and my going back would not in any way prevent that. But why don't you at once tell Captain Ussher, and warn him that you fear he is not safe among those fellows at night."

"That's jist what I did then; but he's so foolish, and so bowld, there's no making him mind what one would say. I did tell him, Father John, that I was afeared that there would be some lads in it wouldn't be his well-wishers. But he laughed at me, and towld me there were none of the boys through the counthry war so fond of him as those Reynoldses and Byrnes, and all them others down at Drumleesh."

"Well, Denis, and what can I do more; if he laughs at you, why wouldn't he also laugh at me?"

"Why, yer riverence, you and he are frinds like; besides, he wouldn't trate the like of you as he would such a one as I; why I believe he don't think the poor are Christians at all."

"It's true enough for some of them; but what would you have me do? I couldn't walk back to Mohill by his horse's side;--and I tell you if they attack him at all, it will not be at the house there, but on his way home."

"'Deed then. Father John, any way I wish he was well out of that."

"It seems, Denis, it's yourself you're thinking of, more than the Captain."

"Shure, and why wouldn't I--and I just married? A purty thing for me just now, to be took up among a lot of blackguard ruffians for murthering a king's officer."

"Well, Denis, I won't go back now,--it would look odd and do no good; so do you go back and drink a tumbler of punch with the men, and dance a turn or two with the girls, as you should on your wedding night; and by and by I'll come down again as if to see what was going on--and to walk home with Miss Feemy. The Captain must go back to Ballycloran for his horse; and if he can be persuaded that there is any danger, he can go up and sleep at the cottage; for I tell you, if they mean to hurt him at all, it's on the road home to Mohill they'd make the attempt. Do you go in and say nothing about it, and I'll be down by and by."

Father John walked away towards his house, and Denis McGovery went back with a heavy heart to dance at his own wedding; for though his solicitude for the "king's officer" would not have been of the most intense kind, had he thought that he was to be murdered anywhere else, he had a great horror at the idea of any evil happening to that important personage, when it could in any way affect his own comfort.

When Denis returned into Mrs. Mehan's big kitchen, the amus.e.m.e.nts of the evening--dancing and drinking--were on the point of commencing.

Shamuth of the pipes, the celebrated composer and musician, was sitting in the corner of the huge fireplace, with a tumbler of punch within reach of his hand, preparing his instrument,--squeaking, and puffing, and blowing in the most approved preparatory style. Mary was working and toiling again for the benefit of her guests--carrying kettles of boiling water into the inner room--emptying pounds of brown sugar into slop-basins and mugs--telling the boys to take their punch--taking a drop herself now and again, with some one who was wishing her health and happiness, and comfort with the man she'd got--inciting the girls to go and dance--and scolding her brother and husband, because, "bad manners to them, divil a hand they'd lend to help her, and she with so much to do, and so many to mind."

"And now, Miss Feemy, if you'd only get up and begin, dear, the others would soon folly; come, Captain Ussher--would yer honer jist stand up with Miss Feemy?"

"Oh, no, Mary,--you're the bride you know; Captain Ussher must dance with you first."

"Oh! laws, Miss, but that'd be too much honour intirely."

"No, Mrs. McGovery, but it's I that'll be honoured; so if you will be good enough to stand up with me, I shall be glad to shake a foot with you:" and the gallant Captain led Mary into the middle of the floor.

"But, Captain, dear, sorrow a sup of dhrink did I see you take this blessed evening; shure then you'll let me get you a gla.s.s of wine before we all begin, jist to prevent your being smothered with the dust like; shure, yer honour hasn't taken a dhrop yet."

"I won't be so long, Mary; but I won't have the wine yet, I'll wash the dust out with a tumbler of punch just now. Here's your husband, you must make him dance with the bridesmaid."

"I'm afraid then he ain't much good at dancing."

"Oh! but he must try.--Come, McGovery, there's Biddy waiting for you to take her out; and here's Shamuth waiting--you don't think, man, he'd begin till you're ready."

"Come, Denis," said his gentle spouse, "I never see sich a man; can't ye stand up and be dancing, and not keeping everyone waiting that way?"

"Mind yourself, Mary, and you'll have enough to mind. Come, Biddy, alanna, let us have a shake together, all for luck;" and the happy husband led forth Biddy of Ballycloran--she with the big cap--who was only now beginning to regain the serene looks, which had been dispelled by Father John's not permitting her to act as bridesmaid.

And now Shamuth--his preparatory puffs having been accomplished--struck up "Paddy Carey" with full force and energy. As this was the first dance, no one stood up but the two couple above named; there were therefore the more left to admire the performance, and better room left for the performers to show their activity.

"Faix then, Mary," said one, "it's yerself that dances illigant--the Lord be praised--only look to her feet."