"You will bring it on Monday, or I shall evict you," says the Squire quietly. "You hear?"
"I hear," says the man, with an evil frown. "But ye can't have it all yer own way now, Misther Desmond. There's others have a voice in the matther."
"I don't care for innuendoes of that sort, or for any insolence whatever; I only mean you to fully know that I must live as well as you, and that therefore I must have my rents."
"I know well enough what ye mane," says the man, with increasing insolence. "But I'd have you know this, that maybe before long ye'll whistle another tune. There's them I could mention, as has their eye upon ye, an' will keep it there till justice is done."
"Meaning, until I give up Coole itself to the mob," says the squire, with a sneer.
"Ay, even that, it may be," says the man, with unswerving defiance.
"You dare to threaten me?" says The Desmond, throwing up his head haughtily, and drawing some steps nearer to his tenant.
"I only say what is likely to prove truth before long," returns the man, sturdily, and giving in an inch. "That we'll have no more tyranny, but will have a blow for our rights, if we swing for it."
"You can shoot me when and where you like," says Desmond, with a shrug. "But I am afraid it will do you no good."
"It will be a lesson to the others," says the man between his teeth.