"I cannot join them yet awhile, Jamesy; we have a corpse in the house."
"God's mercy! an' shure it's not the poor ould masther?" said Jamesy.
"No; I don't know who he is. He must have been one of the depredators."
"An' th' ould masther done for him!--God be praised? More power to his elbow!"
"No, Jamesy, it was not the old master. It was Bully-dhu that choked him--see here;" and he turned down the quilt.
"The divil a word of lie you're tellin', sir; dear me, but he gev' him the tusks in style. Begorra, Bully, I'll give you my own dinner to-day, an' tomorrow, an' next day for that. See, Mr. Cotter, how the Lord overtakes the guilty at wanst, sometimes. Didn't he strike down Tom Murdock wid lightning, an' he batin' me out a horseback? an I'd never have cum up wid him only for that."
Cotter could not help smiling at Jamesy's enthusiasm.
"What are you laughin' at, Mr. Cotter? Maybe it's what you don't give in to me; but I tell you I seen the flash of lightning take him down ov the horse, as plain as the daylight. Where's Miss Winny?"
"Whist, whist, boy, don't be talking that way. Never heed Miss Winny; she's with her father. I would not like her to see this dead man here; don't be talking so loud. Is there any place we could draw him into, until we find out who he is?"
"An' I'd like to show him to Miss Winny, for Bully-dhu's sake. Will I call her?"