"O hush," cried O'Hara, in too deep distress to pay attention either to abuse or banter, "give me room, gentlemen, for God's sake. Don't you see the lady has fainted?"
With infinite precaution and tenderness he emerged from the chay with his burden, elbowing from his path on one side the curious and officious landlord, on the other the struggling husband.
"Oh, what have I done at all!" cried the distracted lover, as the inertness of the weight in his arms began to fill him with apprehension for his dear. "Sure, alanna, there's nothing to be afraid of! Sure, am I not here? Och, me darling, if——"
But here Sir Jasper escaped from his friend's control. "I'll not stand it," cried he. "'Tis more than flesh and blood can endure. Give her up to me, sir. How dare you hold her?" He fell upon O'Hara in the rear and seized him, throttling, round the neck.
"I'll dare you in a minute, ye mad divil!" yelled O'Hara, in a fury no whit less violent than that of his assailant. Thus cried he, then choked.
In the scuffle they had reached the parlour.
"Oh, Jasper, Jasper, in the name of decency!" protested Stafford, vainly endeavouring to pluck the baronet from the Irishman's back. "And you, Denis lad, I entreat of you, cease to provoke him. Zooks, my boy, remember he has some prior claim—what shall I say? some little vested interest——"
"I'll stuff him with his own red hair!" asseverated Sir Jasper, foaming at the mouth as, under a savage push from O'Hara's elbow he fell back, staggering, into Stafford's power.
"Prior claims—vested interest is it! Some of you will have to swallow those words before I'll be got to swallow anything here," swore Denis O'Hara, almost gaily, in the exaltation of his Celtic rage. "Sure, 'tis mad, I know ye are, lepping mad, Sir Jasper, but ought you not to be ashamed of yourself before the lady? She's quivering with the fright.... Lie here, my angel," said he, vibrating from the loudest note of defiance to the tenderest cooing. "Lie here; there's not a ha'porth to frighten ye, were there fifty such twopenny old crazy weathercocks crowing at you!"
So saying, he deposited his burthen tenderly in the leather-winged arm-chair by the fire-place, and turned with a buoyant step towards Sir Jasper.