“I believe they did; but it was years ago, and very many years ago, too, since they lived there. Why you’d have to pull it all down, before you began to build it up!” “May-be I’d build a new house, out and out. Av’ I got three new lifes in the laise, I’d do that; and the lord wouldn’t be refusing me, av’ I asked him.” “Bother the lord, Martin; why you’d be asking anything of any lord, and you with £400 a-year of your own? Give up Toneroe, and go and live at Dunmore House at once.” “What! along with Barry—when I and Anty’s married? The biggest house in county Galway wouldn’t hould the three of us.” “You don’t think Barry Lynch’ll stay at Dunmore afther you’ve married his sisther?” “And why not?” “Why not! Don’t you know Barry thinks himself one of the raal gentry now? Any ways, he wishes others to think so. Why, he’d even himself to Lord Ballindine av’ he could! Didn’t old Sim send him to the same English school with the lord on purpose?—tho’ little he got by it, by all accounts! And d’you think he’ll remain in Dunmore, to be brother-in-law to the son of the woman that keeps the little grocer’s shop in the village?—Not he! He’ll soon be out of Dunmore when he hears what his sister’s afther doing, and you’ll have Dunmore House to yourselves then, av’ you like it.” “I’d sooner live at Toneroe, and that’s the truth; and I’d not give up the farm av’ she’d double the money! But, John, faith, here’s the judges at last. Hark, to the boys screeching!” “They’d not screech that way for the judges, my boy. It’s the traversers—that’s Dan and the rest of ’em. They’re coming into court. Thank God, they’ll soon be at work now!” “And will they come through this way? Faith, av’ they do, they’ll have as hard work to get in, as they’ll have to get out by and by.” “They’ll not come this way—there’s another way in for them: tho’ they are traversers now, they didn’t dare but let them go in at the same door as the judges themselves.” “Hurrah, Dan! More power to you! Three cheers for the traversers, and Repale for ever! Success to every mother’s son of you, my darlings! You’ll be free yet, in spite of John Jason Rigby and the rest of ’em! The prison isn’t yet built that’d hould ye, nor won’t be! Long life to you, Sheil—sure you’re a Right Honourable Repaler now, in spite of Greenwich Hospital and the Board of Trade! More power, Gavan Duffy; you’re the boy that’ll settle ’em at last! Three cheers more for the Lord Mayor, God bless him! Well, yer reverence, Mr Tierney!—never mind, they could come to no good when they’d be parsecuting the likes of you! Bravo, Tom—Hurrah for Tom Steele!”