It is difficult to make out whether the aborigines of the country believed him to be an English relative of The Master’s, or a foreigner of distinction on a special mission from his Holiness the Pope. Isaac rather leads us to infer that the latter supposition was the favourite theory in and about the demesne. Be this as it may, under the auspices of his patron he soon became, in every sense of the word, a leading characteristic with “The Flamers,” that celebrated hunt, which has so often been immortalised in song and story. “Mr. Isaacs,” as he vows he was always called, drank, talked, and rode with the boldest, the loudest, and the thirstiest of them. He seems to have ridden in and out of the celebrated Pound at Ballinasloe, on an average, once every half-hour, during the two days and nights that well-known horse-fair is supposed to last; and it was here that Ike distinguished himself by the great and crowning exploit of his life. It was in the old fighting, roistering days. Captain Bounceable quarrelled with Major O’Toole, upon the merits of a “harse,” as each of the belligerents was pleased to term the noble animal that originated their differences. The lie which had been _told_ pretty frequently during the dispute, was at length _given_ with offensive directness; and nothing but “thunder an’ turf:” pistols and coffee, could be the result. The time was hard upon midnight; the next morning was Sunday; the principals, men of the strictest orthodoxy and the soundest Protestantism. The quarrel could not possibly keep till Monday morning. Major O’Toole was impatient for action: Captain Bounceable thirsted for blood. They must have it out then and there, in the inn-garden, without waiting for daylight. Except at the two ends of a handkerchief, however, even Irishmen cannot conveniently fight a duel in the dark. It was proposed, therefore, and agreed to with considerable cordiality, that each combatant should hold a lighted torch in his left hand, to direct his adversary’s fire; a loaded pistol in his right, to return it. But here arose an unexpected difficulty. Major O’Toole had but one arm; and, although Captain Bounceable had but one eye, the advantage was obviously on the side of the latter, in a case of steady pistol practice. The duel might now have been postponed—perhaps even prevented altogether—had it not been for the self-devotion of Mr. Isaacs. “The gentlemen shall not be disappointed,” said Ike—“_I’ll_ see fair, and hold the candle for both of ’em.” “Where will you stand?” asked Major O’Toole. “Halfway between ye,” replied the daring Englishman, “and take the chance of both of ye missing me. Give us a lantern, though,” he added; “for the wind’s rising from the south-west.” “Faith, if it’s a bull’s-eye,” quoth Bounceable, “I’ll be safe to snuff it out; and we’ll be worse in the dark than ever, for a second shot.”