"'Done! for twice as much if you will. She doesn't dare—'
"'Good evening, your riverence,' said a woman's voice. And in the doorway stood Lanty Casey and Katty Collins.
"'We've come up, your riverence, to see if you'd plaze to marry us this night. They tould us you wor angry, sur, and, indade, I don't blame you; for you don't know all. The man who lies dead beyant was able to give me a home, and to keep a roof over the heads of my poor father and mother, and I gave up Lanty here for him. Now, sir, if you'll marry us, I'll give you the pig down below—and a finer's not in the parish; and if not—'
"The speaker paused, and, touching the arm of her companion, who evidently feared to speak, retreated into the kitchen to await the decision of Father Patrick, who was almost bursting with chagrin at the loss of his wager, and anger at the boldness of his parishioner.
"Peter laughed, silently enjoying his brother's discomfiture, and then suddenly broke out,—
"'Now, what's the use, sir, of spitin' yourself? You've lost the coult, and the woman is bound to have her way. Sure, an' if you don't tie the knot, all they're to do is to sind over to Father Cahill—'
"'The hedge priest—is it? No, I'll marry them. Let them come in, Mrs. Hartigan, but no blessin' can come on such a rite as this.'
"Without a word of congratulation, the priest performed the service of his church, and in silence the pair proceeded to the cottage of the bride, where they fastened the doors and windows securely, and retired. The rising moon lighted up the surrounding scenery, and the priest and his brother sat later than usual over their 'night-caps' of hot Irish whiskey.
"'Peter,' said Father Mulcahy, 'sind young Costigan down for the pig. Perhaps to-morrow Katty will rue her bargain, and we won't get the crathur.'
"Costigan (a tight little lad of fourteen), roused from the settle-bed by the kitchen fire, soon procured a short cord and a whip, and set off on his rather untimely errand.