Pat was winking with his one eye, and nodding on his chair, with his pipe still stuck in his mouth. Little Larry was laughing till he cried at his brother's performance. Peter Dillon and young Fitzpatrick, each with a whiskey bottle in his hand, were guarding the door, at which Stark, the unfortunate owner of Crom-a-boo, was vainly endeavouring to make his exit, which he was assured he should not be allowed to do till he had sung a song standing on the sideboard. And the younger son of Mars, conquered by tobacco and whiskey, was leaning his unfortunate head on the table, and deluging Keegan's feet with the shower which he was unable to restrain.
Ussher was detailing in half drunken glee to his friend Fred Brown, George's brother, his plan for carrying off poor Feemy; and Brown, always as he said, ready to help a friend in necessity, was offering him the loan of his gig to take her as far as Longford, at which place he could arrive in time to catch the mail, if he could manage to take Feemy away from Ballycloran immediately after sunset. "And I'll send a boy to bring the gig back from Longford," added Fred, "so you'll have no trouble at all; and I'll tell you what it is, you're taking the prettiest girl out of County Leitrim with you—so here's her health."
Tony, Nicholas Blake, and Greenough were the only three left who were still able to drink steadily, and they kept at it till about four, when they all agreed, that if they meant to do any good at all to-morrow, they'd better be getting to bed; they consequently took one tumbler more, because it was to be the last, and made towards the door, out of which Stark had at length escaped, after having a bottle of whiskey poured over his head. As they passed the Captain, who was snoring against the wall, McKeon slightly touched his foot with his toe, and said to Blake, "Well; if I was as soft as that fellow, I'd have my head boiled in a pudding-bag. By gad, the Colonel oughtn't to let him out without his nurse."
"You oughtn't to talk then, Tony, for you didn't make a bad thing of him to-night."
"Oh, d——n his money," said McKeon; "I'd much sooner be without such a fellow. I'd sooner by half have a bargain with a man that knew how to take care of himself, than a greenhorn, who'd let you rob him of his eyes without seeing you."
By this time they'd got to the front door, at which was now standing Tony's buggy and servant; Greenough was going to walk to his lodgings, and Blake had come to the door to see his friend off; when they heard a loud shrieking down the street, and they saw the unfortunate Stark running towards the hotel, still followed by Fitzpatrick and Dillon, each with an empty bottle in his hand.
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.