"To one Michael Purcel, a t.i.the-proctor, an oppressor and a grinder of the poor," returned Buck, fiercely.

"And, you insolent scoundrel, how dare you use such language to my father?" said the other. "I tell you, that if it were not from a reluctance to create an unbecoming quarrel so near the house of G.o.d, and so soon after his worship, I would horsewhip you, you illiterate, vulgar rascal, where you stand."

"I would be glad to catch you making the attempt," replied the Buck, with a look of fury; "because I would give you such a lesson as you would never forget. I would let you know that it isn't your father's unfortunate tenants and day-laborers you have before you--and that you scourge like hounds in a kennel."

Purcel was actually in the act of springing at him, whip in hand, when, fortunately, the priest interfered, and prevented a conflict which, from the strength and spirit by which the parties were animated, must have been a fearful one.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PAGE 374-- The priest interfered, and prevented a conflict]

"What is this?" said the worthy man; "in G.o.d's name, what does this scandalous conduct, in such a place, and on such an occasion, mean? Come between these madmen," he proceeded, addressing the crowd, which had now collected about them. "Keep them asunder!"

The two men were separated; but as each felt himself under the influence of strong resentment, they glared at one another with looks of fiery indignation.

"You had better keep out of my way, you impudent scoundrel," said Purcel, shaking his whip at him; "and hark ye, make no more attempts to pay attention to any of my sisters, or, by the heavens above me, I will trace you through all your haunts, and flog you as I would a dog."

"I'll take care to give you the opportunity before long, Squire Purcel, or rather Squireen Purcel," replied the Buck; "and what is more, I'll see you and yours in my power yet."

"You're too ready wid your whip, Mr. Purcel," said several voices from among the crowd; "and you do think it's dogs you have to dale wid, as Mr. English says."

"No," said Purcel, with scom; "I deny it; my whip is never raised unless to the shoulders of some slavish, lying, and dishonest scoundrel, whom I prefer to punish rather than to prosecute."

"Take. care it doesn't come aginst you, then, some o' these days," said a voice.

"Ay," added another, "or some o' these nights!"

"Ah, you ungrateful and cowardly crew," he replied, "who have not one drop of manly blood in your veins, I despise you. Like all thorough cowards, you are equally slavish and treacherous. Kindness is thrown away upon you, generosity you cannot understand, for open fight or open resentment you have neither heart nor courage--but give you the hour of midnight, and your unsuspecting victim asleep--or place you behind the shelter of a hedge, where your cowardly person is safe and invisible, with a musket or blunderbuss in your hands, and a man before whom you have crawled in the morning like reptiles, you will not scruple to a.s.sa.s.sinate that night. Curse upon you! you are a disgrace to any Christian country, and I despise, I say, and defy you. As for you, Buck English, avoid my path, and cross neither me nor any member of my family."

"Alick Purcel," said English, "mark my words--I'll put my thumb upon you and yours yet. I say, mark them; for the day will come when you will remember them to your cost."

Purcel gave him a stern look, and merely said--"I'm prepared for you;"

after which he and his brother John mounted their horses and dashed off at a rapid pace towards their father's house, followed by the groans and hootings of the people--far above all whose voices was heard that of Buck English, in loud and contemptuous tones.

On relating the occurrence at home, the father, as was his custom, only laughed at it.

"Pooh, Alick," said he, "what does it signify? Have we not been annoyed for years by these senseless broils and empty threats? Don't think of them."

"I, father!" replied his son; "do you imagine that I ever bestow a second thought upon them? Not I, I a.s.sure you. However, there is one thing would most unquestionably gratify me, and that is, an opportunity of cudgelling Buck English; because, upon second consideration, horse-whipping would be much too gentlemanly a style of chastis.e.m.e.nt for such a vulgar and affected ruffian."

"I regret very much, however," said his sister Julia, "that I have been the cause of all this; but really, as Mary here knows, the absurdity of his language was perfectly irresistible."

"Yes," replied her sister; "but, in fact, he is constantly annoying and persecuting her, and very few would bear such nonsense and absurdity from him with so much good-humor as Julia does. I grant that it is very difficult to be angry with so ridiculous a fool; but I do agree with Julia, that it is better to laugh at him, for two seasons: the first is, because he is a fit object for ridicule; and the second, because it is utterly impossible to resist it."

"I don't think he will annoy Julia again, however," said Alick.

"Not until the next opportunity," observed his brother, "when, you may take my word for it, he will be as ridiculously polite and impudent as ever."

"Not a doubt of it," said the father; "the rascal's incurable, and little did I imagine when I asked him once or twice to dine here that I was preparing such an infliction for poor Julia. Julia didn't he write to you?"

"I certainly had the honor of receiving a very elaborate love-letter from him," replied Julia, laughing, "which I will show you some of these days; but, for my part, I think the fool is beneath resentment, and it is merely on that principle that I have treated him with good-humored contempt."

"He is certainly as good as a farce," said the father; "and if the rascal had kept from making love, I should have still been glad to have him here from time to time to amuse us."

"How does he live at all?" asked Mrs. Purcel; "for, by all accounts, he has no fixed place of residence, nor any known means of support."

"Faith, Nancy, that's a subject upon which we are all aiqually ignorant," replied her husband; "but that the fellow lives, and can live comfortably--ay, and has plenty of money, there can be no earthly doubt.

At the same time, that there is much talk about him, and a great deal of mystery too, is a sure case on the other hand. Well, never mind, Jack; I asked your old tutor, M'Carthy, to dine here to-day; he has come home to the country after having gained a scholarship, I believe they call it, in Trinity College."

"I'm glad you did, father," replied John, "and I'm much obliged to you.

Yes, he has gained first place, and I knew he would."

"He intends going to the bar, he tells me."

"He will be heard from yet, or I renounce all claims to common sense,"

replied the other. "There is, unquestionably, a brilliant career before him."

"I would rather, in the meantime," observed Mrs. Purcell, "that he had continued steadfast to his religion. They tell me that he has become a Protestant."

"Why, I believe he couldn't gain a scholarship, as you call it, Jack, without becoming a member of the Established Church."

"No, sir, he could not."

"Well, then," proceeded the proctor, "what great harm? Why, I believe in my soul, that if it weren't for the bigotry of priests and parsons, who contrive to set the two churches together by the ears, there would be found very little difference between them. For my part, I believe a good, honest Protestant will go to heaven when a scoundrel Papist won't, and vice versa. The truth is, begad, that it's six of one and half a dozen of the other; and sorry would I be to let so slight a change as pa.s.sing from one religion to the other ever be a bar to the advancement or good fortune of any one of my children!"

"I would much rather not hear you say so, Mat," replied his wife; "nor do I ever wish my children to gain either wealth or station in the world by the sacrifice of the highest principle that can bind the heart--that of religion."

"Pooh, Nancy, you speak like a woman who never looked beyond the range of the kitchen and larder, or thought beyond the humdrum prayers of your Manual. I wish to see my children established; I wish to see them gain station in the world; I wish to make them the first of their family; and I do a.s.sure you, Nancy, that it is not such a trifle as the difference between popery on the one hand, and Protestantism on the other, that I'd suffer--that is, if they will be guided by me--to stand between them and the solid advantages of good connection, and a proper standing in the world. I say, then, boys and girls, don't be fools; for, as for my part, I scarcely think, to tell G.o.d's truth, that there's to the value of sixpence between the two creeds."

"Father," said Mary, laughing, "you're a man of a truly liberal disposition in these matters."

"But, papa," said Julia, with an arch look, "if there be not the value of sixpence between the two creeds, perhaps there is more than that between the two clergy?"

The proctor shook his head and laughed.

"Ah, Judy, my girl, you have me there," he replied; "that goes home to the proctor, you baggage. Devil a thing, however, like an endowed church, and may G.o.d keep me and all my friends from the voluntary system!--ha! ha! ha! Come, now, for that same hit at the old proctor, you must walk over here and play me my old favorite, the 'Cannie Soogah,' just to pull down your pride. The 'Cannie Soogah,' you know, is the Irish for Jolly Pedlar, and a right jolly pedlar your worthy father was once in his days."

"By the way, papa," said Mary, "talking of that--what has become of the pleasant man that goes under that name or nickname--the pedlar that calls here occasionally?"

"I saw him in the market yesterday," replied her father, "and a fine, hale fellow he is of his years. For a man of fifty he's a miracle of activity and energy."

"They say he is wealthy," observed John, "and I shouldn't wonder. You ought to give a good guess at that, father--ha! ha! ha!"

"Right, John, I ought, and I think he is. You don't know how money gathers with a successful pedlar, who is up to his business. I am inclined to think that the Cannie Soogah is the only man who can throw any light on the history of Buck English."

"Who the devil is that impudent scoundrel, father? for it appears that, as regards his birth, family, and origin, n.o.body knows anything certain about him."

"And that is just the position in which I stand," replied his father.

"It is a subject on which he himself gives no satisfaction to any one.

When asked about it, he laughs in jour face, and replies that he doesn't exactly know, but is of the opinion that he is the son of his father--whoever that was; but that, he says, he is not wise enough to know either, and then, after another laugh at you, he leaves you."