The master, whose name was Finigan, or, as he wished to be called, O'Finigan, looked upon Teddy and shook his head very significantly.
“I'm afraid, my worthy distallator,” he proceeded, “that the proverb which says 'latet anguis in herba,' is not inapplicable in your case. I think I can occasionally detect in these ferret-like orbs that constitute such an attractive portion of your beauty, a passing scintillation of intelligence which you wish to keep a secretis, as they say.”
“Mr. Finigan,” said Keenan, who had now returned to his friends, “if you wouldn't be betther employed to-morrow, you'd be welcome to the weddin'.”
“Many thanks, Mr. Keenan,” replied Finigan; “I accept your hospitable offer wid genuine cordiality. To-morrow will be a day worthy of a white mark to all parties concerned. Horace calls it chalk, which is probably the most appropriate substance with which the records of matrimonial felicity could be registered, crede experto.”
“At any rate, Misther Finigan, give the boys a holiday to-morrow, and be down wid us airly.”
“There is not,” replied Finigan, who was now pretty well advanced, “I believe widin the compass of written or spoken language—and I might on that subject appeal to Mr. Thaddeus O'Phats here, who is a good authority on that particular subject, or indeed on any one that involves the beauty of elocution—I say, then, there is not widin the compass of spoken language a single word composed of two syllables so delectable to human ears, as is that word 'dismiss,' to the pupils of a Plantation Seminary; (* A modest periphrasis for a Hedge-School) and I assure you that those talismanic syllables shall my youthful pupils hear correctly pronounced to-morrow about ten o'clock.”
Whilst O'Finigan was thus dealing out the king's English with such complacent volubility—a volubility that was deeply indebted to the liquor he had taken—the following dialogue took place in a cautious under-tone between Batt Hogan and Teddy.
“So Hycy the sportheen is to be up here to-night?”
“Shiss.”
“B—t your shiss! can't you spake like a Christian?”
“No, I won't,” replied the other, angrily; “I'll spake as I likes.”
“What brings him up, do you know?”
“Bekaise he's goin' to thry his misfortune upon her here,” he replied, pointing to the still. “You'll have a good job of her, fwhedher or no.”
“Why, will he want a new one, do you think?”
“Shiss, to be sure—would ye tink I'd begin to run (* A slang phrase for distilling) for him on dis ould skillet? an' be de token moreover, dat wouldn't be afther puttin' nothin' in your pockets—hee! hee! hee!”
“Well, all that's right—don't work for him widout a new one complate, Teddy—Still, Head, and Worm.”
“Shiss, I tell you to be sure I won't—he thried her afore, though.”
“Nonsense!—no he didn't.”
“Ah, ha! ay dhin—an' she milked well too—a good cow—a brave cheehony she was for him.”
“An' why did he give it up?”
“Fwhy—fwhy, afeard he'd be diskivered, to be sure; an' dhin shure he couldn't hunt wid de dinnaousais—wid de gentlemans.”
“An' what if he's discovered now?”
“Fwhat?—fwhy so much the worsher for you an' me: he's ginerous now an' den, anyway; but a great rogue afther all, fwher so high a hid as he carries.”
“If I don't mistake,” proceeded Hogan, “either himself or his family, anyhow, will be talked of before this time to-morrow.”
“Eh, Batt?” asked the other, who had changed his position and sat beside him during this dialogue—“how is dhat now?”
“I don't rightly know—I can't say,” replied Hogan, with a smile murderously grim but knowing—“I'm not up; but the sportheen's a made boy, I think.”
“Dher cheerna! you are up,” said Teddy, giving him a furious glance as he spoke; “there must be no saycrits, I say.”
“You're a blasted liar, I tell you—I am not, but I suspect—that's all.”
“What brought you up dhis night?” asked Teddy, suspiciously.
“Because I hard he was to come,” replied his companion; “but whether or not I'd be here.”
“Tha sha maigh—it's right—may be so—shiss, it's all right, may be so—well?”
Teddy, although he said it was all right, did not seem however to think so. The furtive and suspicious glance which he gave Hogan from under his red beetle brows should be seen in order to be understood.
“Well?” said Hogan, re-echoing him—“it is well; an' what is more, my Kate is to be up here wid a pair o' geese to roast for us, for we must make him comfortable. She wint to thry her hand upon somebody's roost, an' it'll go hard if she fails!”
“Fwhail!” exclaimed Teddy, with a grin—“ah, the dioual a fwhail!”
“An' another thing—he's comin' about Kathleen Cavanagh—Hycy is. He wants to gain our intherest about her!”
“Well, an' what harm?”
“Maybe there is, though, it's whispered that he—hut! doesn't he say himself that there isn't a girl of his own religion in the parish he'd marry—now I'd like to see them married, Teddy, but as for anything else—”
“Hee! hee! hee!—well,” exclaimed Teddy, with a horrible grimace that gave his whole countenance a facequake, “an' maybe he's right. Maybe it 'udn't be aisy to get a colleen of his religion—I tink his religion is fwhere Phiddher Fwhite's estate is—beyant the beyands, Avhere the mare foaled the fwhiddler—hee! hee! hee!”
“He had better thry none of his sckames wid any of the Cavanaghs,” said Bat, “for fraid he might be brought to bed of a mistake some fine day—that's all I say; an' there's more eyes than mine upon him.”
This dialogue was nearly lost in the loudness of a debate which had originated with Keenan and certain of his friends in the lower part of the still-house. Some misunderstanding relative to the families of the parties about to be united had arisen, and was rising rapidly into a comparative estimate of the prowess and strength of their respective factions, and consequently assuming a very belligerent aspect, when a tall, lank, but powerful female, made her appearance, carrying a large bundle in her hand.
“More power, Kate!” exclaimed Hogan. “I knew she would,” he added, digging Teddy's ribs with his elbow.
“Aisy, man!” said his companion; “if you love me, say so, but don't hint it dat way.”
“Show forth, Kate!” proceeded her husband; “let us see the prog—hillo!—oh, holy Moses! what a pair o' beauties!”
He then whipped up a horn measure, that contained certainly more than a naggin, and putting it under the warm spirits that came out of the still-eye, handed it to her. She took it, and coming up towards the fire, which threw out a strong light, nodded to them, and, without saying a word, literally pitched it down her throat, whilst at the same time one of her eyes presented undeniable proofs of a recent conflict. We have said that there were several persons singing and dancing, and some asleep, in the remoter part of the cave; and this was true, although we refrained from mingling up either their mirth or melody with the conversation of the principal personages. All at once, however, a series