When he had escaped from the inn, his persecutors had followed him, still swearing that he should sing. Stark had run towards his home, but before he got there his pursuers headed him in the street and turned him back, and now as he rushed along, half blinded by the spirits in his eyes, they followed him, whooping and yelling like two insane devils, and were just catching him near the door of the hotel, when poor Stark, striking his foot against the curb stone, fell violently on his face, and Dillon, who was just behind him, stumbled and fell upon him. "Halloo, Fitzpatrick, is that you?" said Tony, "what in G----d's name are you doing with that poor devil? I believe you and Dillon have killed him." By this time Dillon had got up; and McKeon and Blake together helped the other man to his feet; his wrath was by this time thoroughly kindled, and he was swearing all manner of vengeance against Fitzpatrick--the other man's name he did not know. They, contented with their sport, carried the decanters, wonderful to relate, unbroken in triumph into the hotel,--and McKeon, bidding the boy to bring the gig after him, helped Stark, whose face was dreadfully bleeding, to his home, trying to console him, and assuring him that the mischief was all owing to Dillon, and that Fitzpatrick, who was a neighbour and friend of Tony's, had had little or nothing to do with it; and having left him at his hall-door, he drove quietly home to his own house, and went soberly to bed. CHAPTER XVIII. HOW PAT BRADY AND JOE REYNOLDS WERE ELOQUENT IN VAIN. The day after Ussher had obtained Feemy's consent to go off with him, she passed in the same manner as she had that afternoon--sometimes sitting quiet with her eyes fixed on vacancy--sometimes sobbing and crying, as though she must have fallen into an hysterical fit. Once or twice she attempted to make some slight preparation for her visit to Mrs. McKeon's, such as looking through her clothes, mending them, &c., but in fact she did nothing. The next day, Sunday, she spent in the same manner; she omitted going to mass, a thing she had not done for years, unless kept at home by very bad weather, or real illness; she never took up a book, nor spoke a word, except such as she could not possibly avoid, to the servant or her father. Of Thady she saw nothing, except at her meals, and then they took no notice of each other. They had not spoken since the night when Thady had upbraided her whilst walking in the lane with Ussher. On the Monday morning she was obliged to exert herself, for she had to pack the little trunk that was to carry her ball-room finery to Mrs. McKeon's, and prepare everything that was necessary for her visit.