“Clear your throat, and cool it, after your hot wishes,” said Hems-worth, with a brutal laugh; for in this ebullition of the woman's passion was the first moment of his enjoyment.
With a gesture of menace, and a denunciation uttered in Irish, with all the energy the native language possesses, Mary turned into the road, and left her home for ever.
“What was that she said?” said Hemsworth, turning to one of the men that stood behind the chair.
“It was a saying they do have in Irish, sir,” said the fellow, with a simper, “and the meaning of it is, that it isn't them that lights a bonfire, that waits to dance round the ashes.”
“Ha! that was a threat, then! She will bring the rebels on us;—but I have taken good care for that. I have sent a strong party by the other road, to cut off their advance from the Bay, and we'll hear the firing time enough to warn us; and that party,” said Hemsworth, muttering to himself, “should be at their post by this time;” here he looked at his watch: “it is now eleven o'clock; you took the order, Wylie, for Captain Travers to go round by Googawn Barra, and occupy the pass between Carrig-na-curra and Bantry Bay?”
“I did, sir, and he set off the moment I gave the letter.”
“Then the fellow, Mark, cannot escape me,” said Hemsworth. “If he leave the castle before I come, he falls into the hands of the others. Still, I would rather be judge and jury myself and you shall be the hangman, Sam. There's little love between you: it is an office you'll like well.”
“If I don't do it nate,” said Wylie, “the young gentleman must forgive me, as it is my first time;” and they both laughed heartily at the ruffian jest.
“But what are we staying for?” said Hemsworth, while he drained his glass. “Let us get up the dragoons, and make sure of him at once. I am strong now, and ready for any exertion.”
“'Tis a pity to burn the little place, captain,” said one of the fellows of the party. “There's many a dacent boy would think himself well off, to get the likes of it for his reward.”