“And where did you see him?”
“Tin minits ago, wid his face at the pitato room winda and him filing his way out through the bars. I wint up to see Larry Lyburn about a bit of a bizness, and Larry says to me, ‘Billy,’ he says. ‘What?’ says I. ‘Listen,’ he says. We was standin’ by the coach-house dure, and I listened, and, sure enough, I hears the sound of a file. The pitato room winda is hid from the stable-yard by an arm of the wall, and, sure enough, at the bars of it, there was Paddy’s big red face and him filin’ away at a bar. ‘I’m cocht,’ says Paddy. ‘Begorra, you look it,’ says I. ‘But I’m not cocht yet,’ says he, with a grin. ‘If the file houlds I’ll be out in two hours’ hard work.’”
Billy halted, dead, and looked around him upon his discomfited audience.
“O’Farrell’s hounds meet at the Big House at tin o’clock,” said Mr Stone. “I was jew be this to see Mr Moriarty’s cow. She’s swallowed a dish-clath off a hedge, bad scran to her! and can’t get shut of it—but she’ll have to wait for me attindance till afther the meet. I wouldn’t miss it for two hundred cows, for you mark me words, there’ll be things to be seen.”
“Faith,” said Mr Mullins, “I had this pair of brogues to finish be twelve, but, begorra! if I never struck another peg I’ll be wid you to see the fun.”
“What’s the time now?” asked Mr Mahony.
“Gone nine,” replied Mr Stone.
Mr Mahony paused for a second in thought, then:
“Billy!” cried he.
“Yes, daddy?” came a voice from the back of the cottage.