Malachi led the two horses to the nearest tree, and fastened them there with a piece of rope, which he always kept handy in his pocket. He then proceeded to unfasten Starlight's saddle and to remove the obnoxious pin. It was a black pin, deep and strong, and it had already made a decided mark on the satin coat of the lovely horse.
"Now how came this here, to be sure?" said he, going over to Tilly. "I must have missed this, to be sure I did. And here are the others. We will put them all together. Ten pins. Upon my word, it's a goodly number. I want you to make a present of 'em, Tilly."
"A present?" answered the girl, raising her white and terrified face.
"Yes, to be sure, a present to The Desmond, and you are to tell him why you put them in, and you are to do it at dinner to-day with the pushkeen looking at you. You are not hurt a bit, no, not a bit. You are shook up, whereas you deserved to die, and you may be thankful you are let off so easy. I'm thinking that after you have told the true story of the pins, the story of the shop will go in one ear and out of the other, so far as The Desmond is concerned. The Rayneses may be fine riders—I'm not taking from their merits, not I—but they are black big liars, too, that I can swear by. Now then, get up, I'll mount ye on Starlight. He'll go as easy as a lamb now that that black horror isn't pricking him to death. We'll just get back in time for lunch."
"Oh, Malachi, I—I can't mount that horse again. He fairly terrifies me, and as to that story you want me to tell about the pins, do you think I'd disgrace myself before your father, and me so frightened of him?"
"Very well, Tilly, you can keep silent and I'll tell. But he's got to know."
"It isn't true, it isn't true," wailed Tilly.
"Whist, for the Lord's sake, don't let out any more black ones. Did ye ever see a cat asleep?"