“Are your eyes open, Patsy?” said Mr Murphy, who still had a tight hold of the boy.
“They are,” said Patsy, pretending to chatter his teeth; “but it’s tirrified I am, now I see it through the trees. Musha! musha! it’s the ‘carriage’ sure enough, wid the great black plumes of it wavin’, and the chap on the box without a head on his shoulders.”
“Ave Maria, ave Maria, ave Maria!” muttered Mr Murphy, who was a devout Catholic when he was frightened. “Con Cogan, y’ divil, be sayin’ your prayers, or it’s a clip I’ll land you with me stick. Ora pro nobis, save us an’ sanctify us—Patsy, what’s he afther now?”
“I see his head under his arm,” said Patsy, “and the eyes of it glowin’ like the eyes of a moth.”
“I’ve robbed and I’ve stole,” mumbled Mr Murphy. “I’ve treated me wife cruel, I ain’t fit to be—what’s he afther now, Patsy?”
Mr Brady, seeing the glow of the fire amidst the trees, had stopped his cart to inspect.
“He’s stopped the carriage and he’s holdin’ his head up, and the eyes of it glowin’ like lamps.”
“Keep your eyes tight shut, Con,” said Mr Murphy, “and confess your sins same as I’m doin’. Ora pro nobis—I killed M’Carthy wid a clip of a stick, though the crowner’s jury brought it in appeplexy whin they found him in the ditch wid the heels of him stickin’ in the air, but I didn’t mane to do it; I only wanted to rob him. Ora pro nobis—I shot old Mullins in the small o’ the back so that the back buttons of his coat was blown through his wistcoat, but I didn’t mane to do it, for the gun wint off before I could club him on the head with the butt of it. Ora pro nobis, save us and sanctify us! Then there’s the man I kilt at Tullagh fair, and I don’t know his name at all, at all, for there was nothin’ in his purse to identify him by, only two pound and a sheep-dip tablet which I ’et in mistake for a cough drop and nearly burnt a hole in me tongue—bad cess to him! Then there’s the man—what’s he afther now, Patsy?”
“He’s after us!” yelled Patsy, springing to his feet, and shaking himself free from Mr Murphy’s clutch. “Run for your lives—here he comes!”
Next moment Patsy, Mr Murphy and Con were running through the woods, each in a different direction. Patsy could hear the terrified shouts of the others, and he stopped and held on to the trunk of a small beech tree and laughed till the tree shook.