“Let me home this minnit, you villin,” she continued; “now that you find yourself on the wrong scent--boys, don't hould me, nor back that ruffin in his villany.” “Hould her like hell,” said Bartle, “an' tie her up wanst more; we'll gag you, too, my lady--ay, will we. Take away your name--I'll take care you'll carry shame upon your face from this night to the hour of your death. Characther indeed!--ho, by the crass I'll lave you that little of that will go far wid you.” “May be not,” replied Biddy; “the same God that disappointed you in hangin' Connor O'Donovan--” “Damn you,” said he, “take that;” and as he spoke he struck the poor girl a heavy blow in the cheek, which cut her deeply, and for a short time rendered her speechless. “Bartle,” said more than one of them, “that's unmanly, an' it's conthrary to the regulations.' “To perdition wid the regulations! Hasn't the vagabone drawn a pint of blood from my nose already?--look at that!” he exclaimed, throwing away a handful of the warm gore “hell seize her! look at that--Ho be the--” He made another onset at the yet unconscious girl as he spoke, and would have still inflicted further punishment upon her, were it not that he was prevented. “Stop,” said several of them, “if you wor over us fifty times you won't lay another finger on her; that's wanst for all, so be quiet.” “Are yez threatenin' me?” he asked, furiously, but in an instant he changed his tone--“Boys dear,” continued the wily but unmanly villain--“boys dear, can you blame me? disappointed as I am by this--by this--_ha anhien na sthreepa_--I'll----” but again he checked himself, and at length burst out into a bitter fit of weeping. “Look at' this,” he proceeded, throwing away another handful of blood, “I've lost a quart of it by her.” “Be the hand af my body,” said one of them in a whisper, “he's like every coward, it's at his own blood he's cryin'; be the vartue of my oath, that man's not the thing to depind on.” “Is she tied an' gagged?” he then inquired. “She is,” replied those who tied her. “It was very asy done, Bartle, afther the blow you hot her.” “It wasn't altogether out of ill--will I hot her aither,” he replied, “although, boys dear, you know how she vexed me, but you see, the thruth is, she'd a' given us a great dale o' throuble in gettin' her quiet.” “An' you tuck the right way to do that,” they replied ironically; and they added, “Bartle Flanagan, you may thank the oaths we tuck, or be the crass, a single man of us wouldn't assist you in this consarn, afther your cowardly behaver to this poor girl. Takin' away the Bodagh's daughter was another thing; you had betther let the girl go home.” Biddy had now recovered, and heard this suggestion with joy, for the poor girl began to entertain serious apprehensions of Flanagan's revenge and violence, if left alone with him; she could not speak, however, and those who bore her, quickened their pace at his desire, as much as they could.