“There it goes!” said one of the men, pointing to a narrow, beaten path, in which the tall figure moved at a slow and stately pace, while still the same wild gestures of heads and limbs continued.
“Don’t fire, men! don’t fire!” I cried, “but follow me,” as I set forward as hard as I could.
As we neared it, the frantic gesticulations grew more and more remarkable, while some stray words, which we half caught, sounded like English in our ears. We were now within pistol-shot distance, when suddenly the horse—for that much at least we were assured of—stumbled and fell forward, precipitating the remainder of the object headlong into the road.
In a second we were upon the spot, when the first sounds which greeted me were the following, uttered in an accent by no means new to me:—
“Oh, blessed Virgin! Wasn’t it yourself that threw me in the mud, or my nose was done for? Shaugh, Shaugh, my boy, since we are taken, tip them the blarney, and say we’re generals of division!”
I need not say with what a burst of laughter I received this very original declaration.
“I ought to know that laugh,” cried a voice I at once knew to be my friend O’Shaughnessy’s. “Are you Charles O’Malley, by any chance in life?”
“The same, Major, and delighted to meet you; though, faith, we were near giving you a rather warm reception. What, in the Devil’s name, did you represent, just now?”
“Ask Maurice, there, bad luck to him. I wish the Devil had him when he persuaded me into it.”
“Introduce me to your friend,” replied the other, rubbing his shins as he spoke. “Mr. O’Mealey,”—so he called me,—“I think. Happy to meet you; my mother was a Ryan of Killdooley, married to a first cousin of your father’s before she took Mr. Quill, my respected progenitor. I’m Dr. Quill of the 48th, more commonly called Maurice Quill. Tear and ages! how sore my back is! It was all the fault of the baste, Mr. O’Mealey. We set out in search of you this morning, to bring you back with us to Torrijos, but we fell in with a very pleasant funeral at Barcaventer, and joined them. They invited us, I may say, to spend the day; and a very jovial day it was. I was the chief mourner, and carried a very big candle through the village, in consideration of as fine a meat-pie, and as much lush as my grief permitted me to indulge in afterwards. But, my dear sir, when it was all finished, we found ourselves nine miles from our quarters; and as neither of us were in a very befitting condition for pedestrian exercise, we stole one of the leaders out of the hearse,—velvet, plumes, and all,—and set off home.