"Row, brothers, row—the stream runs fast,
The rapids are near, and the daylight's past!"
CHAPTER XII
The boats doubled round an angle in the river, and Andy was left in the hands of Squire O'Grady still threatening vengeance; but Andy, as long as the boats remained in sight, heard nothing but his own sweet voice shouting at the top of its pitch, "They're going to murdher me!—Misther Dick, Misther Dick, come back for the love o' God!"
"What are you roaring like a bull for?" said the Squire.
"Why wouldn't I roar, sir? A bull would roar if he had as much rayson."
"A bull has more reason than ever you had, you calf," said the Squire.
"Sure there he is, and can explain it all to you," said Andy, pointing after the boats.
"Who is there?" asked the Squire.
"Misther Dick, and the jintleman that I dhruv there."