At the words there rang through the crowd an eager movement which made Mr. Plunkett remember thankfully that he had on one of his oldest coats; however, he answered coldly:
"When you speak to me in such a manner you forget the difference of age between us, and the position in which I stand towards you. Such unseemly outbursts only serve to prove that the society you have chosen is not likely to fit you for the career of a gentleman, and leave me no alternative but to take by force the obedience you will not render willingly. I give you two minutes to clear this barn-yard. If it is not empty at the end of that time, you and your sisters shall be taken home, and I will settle the matter my own way with this rabble."
As it happened two of the night police walked up to the gate while he was speaking and looked into the yard. Mr. Plunkett signed to them to enter, and continued significantly: "You see my words are not vain; I mean what I say. Choose your own course."
Murtagh saw that he was overpowered. The sense of being baffled and defeated by mere armed force was very bitter, and all the roused passion within him burst forth as he answered:
"Yes; you have conquered this time, because you have got grown-up men to help you. But you shall see I will be free. If you fight with me, you will get the worst of it. I will receive my friends wherever I please, and you had better not dare to interfere with me again. I tell you when you do it, it makes me feel as if I could kill you."
"That's right, Mr. Murtagh; an' it would be a good riddance to the country the day ye did it," shouted hot-headed Pat O'Toole, who could no longer contain his indignation.
Almost before the words were out of the boy's mouth Mr. Plunkett's hand was on his collar, and some sharp blows from Mr. Plunkett's cane repaid the speech. An angry murmur ran through the crowd. Murtagh sprang from the horse's back and threw himself between them, receiving upon his face and head a part of the swiftly descending shower of blows. For a moment there was a confused struggle. Bobbo tried to make his way to the rescue. Winnie had risen to her feet, and with flashing eyes she called, "At him, Royal; at him!"
The great dog bounded forward, seized Mr. Plunkett's coat-sleeve in his teeth, and the next minute Murtagh and Pat were standing side by side defiantly facing Mr. Plunkett.
Murtagh's face was even whiter than usual, and across one cheek a dark red stripe showed where the cane had struck him.
"Come," he said, turning to the tribe. He led the way to the gate, and they followed him slowly, the dog holding Mr. Plunkett immovable the while.