Volume Ii Part 22 (1/2)

”We want the loan o' that young woman there, ma'am,” said the ruffian.

Andy and his mother both uttered small squalls.

”And as for who we are, ma'am, we're the blessed society of Saint Joseph, ma'am--our coat of arms is two heads upon one pillow, and our motty, 'Who's afraid?--Hurroo!'” shouted the savage, and he twirled his stick and cut another caper. Then coming up to Andy, he addressed him as ”young woman,” and said there was a fine strapping fellow whose heart was breaking till he ”rowled her in his arms.”

Andy and the mother both acted their parts very well. He rushed to the arms of the old woman for protection, and screeched small, while the widow shouted ”_millia murther!_” at the top of her voice, and did not give up her hold of the make-believe young woman until her cap was torn half off, and her hair streamed about her face. She called on all the saints in the calendar, as she knelt in the middle of the floor and rocked to and fro, with her clasped hands raised to heaven, calling down curses on the ”villains and robbers” that were tearing her child from her, while they threatened to stop her breath altogether if she did not make less noise, and in the midst of the uproar dragged off Andy, whose struggles and despair might have excited the suspicion of soberer men. They lifted him up on a stout horse, in front of the most powerful man of the party, who gripped Andy hard round the middle and pushed his horse to a hand gallop, followed by the rest of the party. The proximity of Andy to his _cavaliero_ made the latter sensible to the bad odour of the pig's bed, which formed Andy's luxurious bust and bustle; but he attributed the unsavoury scent to a bad breath on the lady's part, and would sometimes address his charge thus:--

”Young woman, if you plaze, would you turn your face th' other way;” then in a side soliloquy, ”By Jaker, I wondher at Jack's taste--she's a fine lump of a girl, but her breath is murther intirely--phew--young woman, turn away your face, or by this and that I'll fall off the horse. I've heerd of a bad breath that might knock a man down, but I never met it till now. Oh, murther! it's worse it's growin'--I suppose 't is the b.u.mpin'

she's gettin' that shakes the breath out of her sthrong--oh, there it is again--phew!”

It was as well, perhaps, for the prosecution of the deceit, that the distaste the fellow conceived for his charge prevented any closer approaches to Andy's visage, which might have dispelled the illusion under which he still pushed forward to the hills and b.u.mped poor Andy towards the termination of his ride. Keeping a sharp look-out as he went along, Andy soon was able to perceive they were making for that wild part of the hills where he had discovered the private still on the night of his temporary fright and imaginary rencontre with the giants, and the conversation he partly overheard all recurred to him, and he saw at once that Oonah was the person alluded to, whose name he could not catch, a circ.u.mstance that cost him many a conjecture in the interim. This gave him a clue to the persons into whose power he was about to fall, after having so far defeated their scheme, and he saw he should have to deal with very desperate and lawless parties. Remembering, moreover, the herculean frame of the inamorato, he calculated on an awful thras.h.i.+ng as the smallest penalty he should have to pay for deceiving him, but was, nevertheless, determined to go through the adventure with a good heart, to make deceit serve his turn as long as he might, and at the last, if necessary, to make the best fight he could.

As it happened, luck favoured Andy in his adventure, for the hero of the blunderbuss (and he, it will be remembered, was the love-sick gentleman) drank profusely on the night in question, quaffing deep potations to the health of his Oonah, wis.h.i.+ng luck to his friends and speed to their horses, and every now and then ascending the ladder from the cave, and looking out for the approach of the party. On one of these occasions, from the unsteadiness of the ladder, or himself, or perhaps both, his foot slipped, and he came to the ground with a heavy fall, in which his head received so severe a blow that he became insensible, and it was some time before his sister, who was an inhabitant of this den, could restore him to consciousness. This she did, however, and the savage recovered all the senses the whisky had left him; but still the stunning effect of the fall cooled his courage considerably, and, as it were, ”bothered” him so, that he felt much less of the ”gallant gay Lothario” than he had done before the accident.

The tramp of horses was heard overhead ere long, and _Shan More_, or Big John, as the Hercules was called, told Bridget to go up to ”the darlin',” and help her down.

”For that's a blackguard laddher,” said he; ”it turned undher me like an eel, bad luck to it!--tell her I'd go up myself, only the ground is slipping from undher me--and the laddher--”

Bridget went off, leaving Jack growling forth anathemas against the ground and the ladder, and returned speedily with the mock-lady and her attendant squires.

”Oh, my jewel!” roared Jack, as he caught sight of his prize. He scrambled up on his legs, and made a rush at Andy, who imitated a woman's scream and fright at the expected embrace; but it was with much greater difficulty he suppressed his laughter at the headlong fall with which Big Jack plunged his head into a heap of turf, [Footnote: Peat] and hugged a sack of malt which lay beside it.

Andy endeavoured to overcome the provocation to merriment by screeching; and as Bridget caught the sound of this tendency towards laughter between the screams, she thought it was the commencement of a fit of hysterics, and it accounted all the better for Andy's extravagant antics.

”Oh, the craythur is frightened out of her life!” said Bridget. ”Leave her to me,” said she to the men. ”There, jewel machree!” she continued to Andy, soothingly, ”don't take on you that way--don't be afeerd, you're among friends--Jack is only dhrunk dhrinking your health, darlin', but he adores you.” Andy screeched.

”But don't be afeerd, you'll be thrated tender, and he'll marry you, darlin', like an honest woman!”

Andy squalled.

”But not to-night, jewel--don't be frightened.”

Andy gave a heavy sob at the respite.

”Boys, will you lift Jack out o' the turf, and carry him up into the air?

't will be good for him, and this dacent girl will sleep with me to-night.”

Andy couldn't resist a laugh at this, and Bridget feared the girl was going off into hysterics again.

”Aisy, dear--aisy--sure you'll be safe with me.”

”Ow! ow! ow!” shouted Andy.

”Oh, murther!” cried Bridget, ”the sterricks will be the death of her!

You blackguards, you frightened her coming up here, I'm sure.”

The men swore they behaved in the genteelest manner. ”Well, take away Jack, and the girl shall have share of my bed for this night.”

Andy shook internally with laughter.