“Towards day-break, I had advanced some miles on the road to Killaloe; when before me I perceived a drove of horses, coupled together with all manner of strange tackle, halters, and hay ropes. Two or three country lads were mounted among them, endeavouring as well as they were able, to keep them quiet; while a thick, short, red-faced fellow, in dirty ‘tops,’ and a faded green frock led the way, and seemed to preside over the procession. As I drew near, my appearance caused no common commotion; the drivers fixing their eyes on me, could mind nothing else; the cattle, participating in the sentiments, started, capered, plunged, and neighed fearfully. While the leader of the corps, furious at the disorder he witnessed, swore like a trooper, as with a tremendous cutting whip he dashed here and there through the crowd, slashing men and horses, with a most praiseworthy impartiality. At last, his eyes fell upon me, and for a moment, I was full sure my fate was sealed; as he gripped his saddle closer, tightened his curb-rein, and grasped his powerful whip with redoubled energy.
“The instincts of an art are very powerful; for seeing the attitude of the man, and beholding the savage expression of his features, I threw myself into a stage position, slapped down my beaver with one hand, and drawing my sword with the other, called out in a rich melodramatic howl—‘Come on, Macduff!’ my look, my gesture, my costume, and above all my voice, convinced my antagonist that I was insane; and, as quickly the hard unfeeling character of his face relaxed, and an expression of rude pity passed across it.
“‘’Tis Billy Muldoon, sir, I’m sure,’ cried one of the boys, as with difficulty he sat the plunging beast under him.
“‘No, sir,’ shouted another, ‘he’s bigger nor Billy, but he has a look of Hogan about the eyes.’
“‘Hould your prate,’ cried the master. ‘Sure Hogan was hanged at the summer assizes.’
“‘I know he was, sir,’ was the answer, given as coolly, as though no contradiction arose on that score.
“‘Who are you,’ cried the leader? ‘where do you come from?’
“‘From Ephesus, my lord,’ said I, bowing with stage solemnity, and replacing my sword within my scabbard.
“‘Where?’ shouted he, with his hand to his ear.
“‘From Kilrush, most potent,’ replied I, approaching near enough to converse without being overheard by the others: while in a few words I explained, that my costume and appearance were only professional symbols, which a hasty departure from my friends prevented my changing.