_Old McB._ Not if I can help it, depend on that. (_They shake hands._) _O’Bla._ Then, fare ye well, father-in-law--that’s meat and drink to me: would not ye take a glass of wine then? _Old McB._ Not a drop--not a drop at all--with money about me: I must be in a hurry home. _O’Bla._ That’s true--so best: recommind me kindly to Miss Honor, and say a great dale about my impatience--and I’ll be expicting Phil, and won’t shut up till he comes the night. _Old McB._ No, don’t; for he’ll be with you before night-fall. [_Exit McBRIDE._ _O’Bla._ (_calling_) Dan! open the door, there: Dan! Joe! open the door smart for Mr. McBride! (O’BLANEY _rubbing his hands._) Now I think I may pronounce myself made for life--success to my parts!--and here’s Pat too! Well, Pat Coxe, what news of the thing in hand? _Enter PAT COXE._ _Pat._ Out of hand clane! that job’s nately done. The turf-rick, sir, ‘s built up cliver, with the malt snug in the middle of its stomach--so were the shupervishor a conjuror even, barring he’d dale with the ould one, he’d never suspict a sentence of it. _O’Bla._ Not he--he’s no conjuror: many’s the dozen tricks I played him afore now. _Pat._ But, counshillor, there’s the big veshel in the little passage--I got a hint from a friend, that the shuper got information of the spirits in that from some villain. _O’Bla._ And do you think I don’t know a trick for that, too? _Pat._ No doubt: still, counshillor, I’m in dread of my life that that great big veshel won’t be implied in a hurry. _O’Bla._ Won’t it? but you’ll see it will, though; and what’s more, them spirits will turn into water for the shupervisor. _Pat._ Water! how? _O’Bla._ Asy--the ould tan-pit that’s at the back of the distillery. _Pat._ I know--what of it? _O’Bla._ A sacret pipe I’ve got fixed to the big veshel, and the pipe goes under the wall for me into the tan-pit, and a sucker I have in the big veshel, which I pull open by a string in a crack, and lets all off all clane into the tan-pit. _Pat._ That’s capital!--but the water? _O’Bla._ From the pump, another pipe--and the girl’s pumping asy, for she’s to wash to-morrow, and knows nothing about it; and so the big veshel she fills with water, wondering what ails the water that it don’t come--and I set one boy and another to help her--and the pump’s bewitched, and that’s all:--so that’s settled. _Pat._ And cliverly. Oh! counshillor, we are a match for the shuper any day or night. _O’Bla._ For him and all his tribe, _coursing_ officers and all. I’d desire no better sport than to hear the whole pack in full cry after me, and I doubling, and doubling, and safe at my form at last. With you, Pat, my precious, to drag the herring over the ground previous to the hunt, to distract the scent, and defy the nose of the dogs. _Pat._ Then I am proud to sarve you, counshillor. _O’Bla._ I know you are, and a very honest boy. And what did you do for me, with Catty Rooney?