"Oh, Mr. Plunkett, not now!" exclaimed Nessa. "They are all so excited now," she added, turning to Cousin Jane, "and when they are, they do not know what they say—Will you not wait till to-morrow?"
"I'm sure I don't know, my dear. Let Mr. Plunkett do as he likes."
Mr. Plunkett had stood with his hand on the door while Nessa spoke, but as Cousin Jane answered for him he bowed, said a general "Good evening," and left the room.
He knew the children would be in the barn-yard, and he walked briskly in that direction. For a minute or two he had debated in his mind whether perhaps it would not be better to leave the matter, as Nessa suggested, till the next day. But he had quickly decided to keep to his own plan. Murtagh's spirit required to be broken. He ought to be humiliated, to be shown that his independent ways could not be tolerated. Nothing short of that would reduce him to submission, and how would he ever learn to bear the discipline of life if he were not taught now to obey? "I am the only person who is in any sort of authority over him," thought Mr. Plunkett, "and if the boy will defy me in this open manner, I must show him openly that I am stronger than he."
No better opportunity than this would be likely to present itself for a long time. He would speak to Murtagh before the whole crew, and he would make the village children understand that he would not have them hanging about the place. His position in the village as well as in the immediate household was affected; and in defense of his own authority it was absolutely necessary for him to show that he was not to be trifled with.
In this frame of mind he arrived within earshot of the barn-yard. Scraps of song, shouts, and laughter reached him; some piece of fun was evidently going on.
The sound of the merriment only strengthened his resolution, and his anger was in no way abated when he stood at the gate of the barn-yard by seeing Murtagh and Winnie with stable lanterns in their hands standing up together on Tommie's back. They were performing some kind of circus entertainment for the amusement of the assembled crowd; and Royal, as much excited as the children, was apparently endeavoring to leap on the horse's back.
They had collected a quantity of straw lying about the barn-yard, and spread it upon the ground in order that they might "fall soft," but at the first glance Mr. Plunkett imagined that they had knocked down part of a corn rick for the purpose, and he advanced at once towards Murtagh, saying sternly:
"Stop this tomfoolery, sir, and tell me what you mean by destroying your uncle's property in this wanton manner!"
"Destroy my uncle's granny's fiddlesticks!" retorted Winnie, with a merry peal of laughter. "We're not destroying anything except our own bones. Look out, Murtagh, I'm slipping again." As she spoke she slipped to a sitting position, but Murtagh remained standing, and steadied himself against her shoulder while a smothered laugh burst from the crowd, and one incautious—"It's like his impudence," was distinctly heard.