"Och, grandfather, sure ye wouldn't do the like! I ax your pardon for spakin' disrespectful to ye. Sure ye're not in airnest? Ye won't raly put the poor old man and his wife there out o' their little place? They won't be troublin' you long. A-a-h, grandfather, me own dear grandfather, do lave them where they are an' I'll promise faithful never to give you a crass word again."
But neither the coaxing tone nor the touch of the soft clinging arms, which the girl now wound about him, moved Peter's heart.
"Out o' this them Clancys goes, bag and baggage," he asserted; "if ye'd wanted me to let them stay where they were, an' them owin' me so much rent an' all, ye ought to have behaved different. But on account of this impident young sckamer ye go tellin' me ye won't marry Mr. Quinn, the man I chose for ye, an' I catch ye sweetheartin' an' carryin' on wid that ploughboy there, demanin' yourself altogether. Sure nobody could be expected to stand that. I won't stand it anyhow. Out they go, and off the whole o' them may march."
Roseen was silent for a moment, apparently battling with herself, and at last she said in a very shaky voice:
"It's a poor case if it's me that's bringin' this throuble on them all. Grandfather, if—if I was to give ye me word that I wouldn't spake to Mike in the way of courtin' agin—"
"Wisha!" cried Peter sarcastically, "much good that would do. I know the way ye would keep your promise, me lady; no, no, I'll make sure of this job."
"Oh, grandfather! I'll promise, I promise faithful never so much as to look at Mike!"
But Peter was inexorable; he had been wounded in his tenderest point, bearded by these two impudent young people—set at nought. His pride, moreover, could not brook the proximity of the audacious youth who had dared to aspire to the hand of his granddaughter, and of the parents who had, as he had been reminded that day, ventured to befriend her when he himself had cast her off.
He felt that he must be rid of them without delay. Poor Roseen crept upstairs and sat disconsolately at the window, watching the corner of the haggard where she expected before long to see Mike appear. It had been the custom of the young pair to meet for a few moments every evening, under the shadow of the big hayrick and there converse before Mike returned home. He would surely come, if only to say good-bye. Poor fellow, what would he do? Whither would he go? Big tears rolled down Roseen's cheeks as she thought of his desperate plight.
As she sat watching and waiting—for she dared not venture out too soon lest her grandfather's suspicions should be aroused—a sudden rattling and fumbling at the lock of her own door made her turn round. The door was opened for a moment, a lean hand thrust into the room, the key which had been on the inner side was withdrawn suddenly; then the door quickly closed again, and before Roseen thoroughly realised what had happened, old Peter locked her in.