“A robber too!” exclaimed Nulty, “that's more of his parjury to'ards uz. Bartle Flanagan, you're a thraitor, and you'll get a thraitor's death afore you're much oulder. He's not fit to be among us,” added Alick, addressing himself to both parties, “an' the truth is, if we don't hang or settle him, he'll some day hang us.” “Bartle's no thraitor,” said Mulvather, “but he's a thraitor that says he is.” The coming reply was interrupted by “Boys, good night to yez;” and immediately the clatter of a horse's feet was heard stumbling and floundering back along the deep stony boreen. “Be the vestment he's aff,” said one of his party; “the cowardly villin's aff wid himself the minit he seen the approach of danger.” “Sure enough, the bad dhrop's in him,” exclaimed several on both sides. “But what the h--l does he mane now, I dunna?” “It'll be only a good joke to-morrow wid him,” observed one of them--“but, boys, we must think how to manage him; I can't forgive him for the cowardly blow he hot the poor colleen here, an' for the same rason I didn't dhraw the knot so tight upon her as I could a' done.” “Was it you that nipped my arm?” asked Biddy. “Faix, you may say that, an' it was to let you know that, let him say as he would, after what we seen of him to-night, we wouldn't allow him to thrate you badly without marryin' you first.” The night having been now pretty far advanced, the two parties separated in order to go to their respective homes--Alick taking Biddy under his protection to her master's. As the way of many belonging to each lodge lay in the same direction, they were accompanied, of course, to the turn that led up to the Bodagh's house. Biddy, notwithstanding the severe blow she had got, related the night's adventure with much humor, dwelling upon her own part in the transaction with singular glee. “There's some thraicherous villin in the Bodagh's,” said she, “be it man or woman; for what 'id you think but the hall-door was left lying to only--neither locked nor boulted. But, indeed, anyhow, it's the start was taken out o' me whin Ned M'Cormick--that _you_ wor to meet in our kitchen, Alick--throth, I won't let _Kitty Lowry_ wait up for _you_ so long another time.” She added this to throw the onus of the assignation off her own shoulders, and to lay it upon those of Alick and Kitty. “But, anyhow, I had just time to throw her clothes upon me and get into her bed. Be me sowl, but I acted the fright an' sickness in style. I wasn't able to spake a word, you persave, till we got far enough from the house to give Miss Oona time to hide herself. Oh, thin, the robbin' villin how he put the muzzle of his gun to the lock of Miss Oona's desk, when he couldn't get the key, an' blewn it to pieces, an' thin he took every fardin' he could lay his hands upon.”