“'Where was the toast? He didn't say the words,' shouted the mob. “'Off with his hat, and make him drink it,' cried out several others from a distance. They saved me one part of the trouble, for they knocked off my hat with a stone. “'Here's health and long life to Hickman O'Reilly!' cried out Dodd,--'that's the toast.' “'And what have I to wish him either?' said I, while at the same time I tore open the pewter measure, and then with one strong dash of my band drove it down on the ruffian's head, down to the very brows. I lost no time afterwards, but, striking right and left, plunged forwards; the mob fled as I followed, and by good luck the carthorses, getting frightened, sprang forward also, and so I rode on with a few slight cuts; a stone or two struck me, nothing more; but they 'll need a plumber to rid my friend Dodd of his helmet.” [Illustration: 424] “And we used to call this town our own,” said Lionel, bitterly. “Nothing is a man's own but his honor, sir. That base cowardice yonder believes itself honest and independent, as if a single right feeling, a single good or virtuous thought, could consort with habits like theirs; but they are less base than those who instigate them. The real scoundrels are the Hickmans of this world, the men who compensate for low birth and plebeian origin by calumniating the wellborn and the noble.--What is Flury wanting here?” said he, as, attracted by Daly's narrative, the poor fellow had drawn near to listen. “'I 'm glad you put the pewter pot on the Bully's head, he 's a disgrace to the town,” said Flury, with a laugh; and he turned away, as if enjoying the downfall of an enemy. “Oh! I see,” said Daly, taking up one of the papers that had fallen to the ground, “this is the first act of the drama. Come along, Lionel, let us talk of matters nearer to our hearts.” They walked along together to the library, each silently following his own train of thought, and for some time neither seemed disposed to speak. Lionel at length broke silence, as he said,-- “I have been thinking over it, and am convinced my father will never be able to endure this life of inactivity before him.” “That is exactly the fear I entertain myself for him; altered fortunes will impress themselves more in the diminished sphere to which his influence and utility will be reduced, than in anything else: but how to remedy this?” “I have been considering that also; but you must advise me if the plan be a likely one. He held the rank of colonel once--” “To be sure he did, and with good right,--he raised the regiment himself. Darcy's Light Horse were as handsome a set of fellows as the service could boast of.”