'No good will come of it,' cried the contemptuous great man, as he waved a silver tankard. 'They are acting illegally; are pausing before they dare to overthrow constitutional authority, as the regicides did before they chopped off Charles's head. A little ham, my lady? No? Do, to please me. Will you, my dear Curran? Just a little skelp? Pray do, for you look as if you'd eat me raw; and that young man too. I vow he is a cannibal. What was I saying? He who vilifies those who are in power is sure of an audience, you know. Positively, this regeneration scheme is laughable, quite laughable!' 'Stop your friend,' said some one to Curran, 'or there'll be swords drawn before the ladies;' to which the other answered, 'Friend! No friend of mine, or indeed of any one except himself, the maniac incendiary! Ask Arthur Wolfe. Perhaps he will interfere.' But Fitzgibbon was not acting without a purpose. He ate his ham with studied nonchalance, shaking back his ruffles with unrivalled grace; and he at least was sorry when an unexpected circumstance occurred which withdrew the attention of his audience from himself and his insidious talk. There was a mighty noise without which shook the windows. The undergraduates, hearing that the battle was postponed, poured forth from their gallery in the Commons with the fury of a pent-up river suddenly let loose. They had wasted their time and energies. Their lithe young limbs were cramped. Something must be done to set the blood dancing through their veins again. What did they behold as they dashed out into the street? Peg Plunkett and her companions flirting with soldiers--not Volunteers, but actually English soldiers, members of the Viceroy's bodyguard. It must never be said that Irish Phrynes gave their favours to English soldiers--at such a time too! Fie on them for graceless harlots! Their feathers should be plucked out--they should be ducked--the English Lotharios should be well drubbed--driven back to the Castle with contumely and bloody noses. Hurrah! Pack a stone in the sleeve and have at them, the spalpeens! It was well for the Viceroy that he went home when he did, without strutting, as he proposed to do, once more round Juggernaut; or he would certainly have been assaulted by the mischievous collegians, and a serious riot would have been the consequence. But Darkey Kelly and Maria Llewellyn! Pooh! it served them right, and no one pitied them. At all events, the peeresses (mothers of the lads) said so, as they leisurely returned to the discussion of cold beef and politics. They were too well broken to street brawls to care much about a stampede of college youths. But that Fitzgibbon should presume to attack the national army was too bad, and touched them home. None of them dared admit that English gold was more precious than national freedom. There are secrets that for very shame we would go any lengths rather than divulge. These ladies made believe to be terribly shocked--threatened to assail the