"'Deed, Mr. Thady, I think she be."
"And why the divil, then, a'nt you gone with her? d'you mane to be dancing here all night?"
Now Thady was in general so very unobservant—so little inclined to interfere with, if he could not promote, the amusements of his dependants—moreover, so unaccustomed to scold—that Biddy and the others round her soon saw that something was the matter.
"What are you staring at, you born fool? If Miss Feemy's gone up to Ballycloran, do you follow her."
Thady's thick voice, red face, and sparkling eyes showed that he was intoxicated, and Biddy, if not preparing to obey him—for the temptation to stay was too strong—was preparing to pretend to do so, when Mary McGovery, by way of allaying Macdermot's wrath, said,
"I don't believe then, Mr. Thady, that Miss Feemy's gone home, at all at all. I think she and the Captain is only walked down the lane a bit, jist to cool themselves, for sure it's hot work dancing—"
Thady did not stop to ask any more questions, but hurried out of the door, and turning away from Ballycloran, walked as fast as his unsteady legs would carry him towards Mohill; and, unfortunately, Ussher and Feemy were strolling down the lane in that direction.
When Pat Brady saw Macdermot hurry out of the house, he said to his sister, "Begad! Mary, you'd better hurry down the lane—if Captain Ussher and Miss Feemy is in it—jist to take care of her; for he and the masther 'll have a great fight of it this night. The masther's blood's up, and the two'll be slating one another afore they're parted."
"Goodness gracious!" exclaimed Mary, "why don't you go yourself, Pat? Mr. Thady's taken a dhrop, and maybe he'll be hurting Miss Feemy or the Captain. Denis, dear,"—her husband came in the room just then,—"there's a ruction between the Captain and Mr. Thady; in God's name go and bring away Miss Feemy!"
Ussher and Feemy had not been out of the house many minutes; it was a beautiful mild moonlight night in October, and as the girl had said, they had come out to cool themselves after the heat and noise and dirt of the room in which they had been dancing. Myles was in one of his best humours; he had persuaded himself that he had no real danger to fear from the men who, as he was told, were so hostile to him. Feemy, too, had looked very pretty and nice, and had not contradicted him; and whereas what Thady had drunk had made him cross, Ussher had only just had enough to make him good-humoured. Feemy too was very happy; she had contrived to forget her brother's croaking and Father John's warning, or at least the misery which they had occasioned her, and was very happy in Ussher's good-humour. It were bootless to repeat their conversation, or to tell how often it was interrupted by some unchided caress on the part of Ussher. Feemy, however, had not forgotten her resolution, and was bringing up all her courage to make some gentle hint to Myles on the subject on which she had promised Father John to speak to him, when her heart sunk within her, on hearing her brother's voice calling to her from behind.