“Arrah, what harm would happen her, woman?” returned the widow, savagely, rendered more morose by the humble bearing of her against whom she directed her severity; as if she got more angry the less the poor creature would give her cause to justify her harshness. “Isn't she undher my roof here?”
“But how long may she be left there?” asked the woman, significantly.
“What do you mane, woman?”
“I mane there's a plan to carry her off from you to-night.”
Oonah grew pale with true terror, and the widow screeched, after the more approved manner of elderly ladies making believe they are very much shocked, till Nance reminded her that crying would do no good, and that it was requisite to make some preparation against the approaching danger. Various plans were hastily suggested, and as hastily relinquished, till Nance advised a measure which was deemed the best. It was to dress Andy in female attire and let him be carried off in place of the girl. Andy roared with laughter at the notion of being made a girl of, and said the trick would instantly be seen through.
“Not if you act your part well; just keep down the giggle, jewel, and put on a moderate phillelew, and do the thing nice and steady, and you'll be the saving of your cousin here.”
“You may deceive them with the dhress; and I may do a bit of a small shilloo, like a colleen in disthress, and that's all very well,” said Andy, “as far as seeing and hearing goes; but when they come to grip me, sure they'll find out in a minute.”
“We'll stuff you out well with rags and sthraw, and they'll never know the differ—besides, remember, the fellow that wants a girl never comes for her himself, [Footnote: This is mostly the case.] but sends his friends for her, and they won't know the differ—besides, they're all dhrunk.”
“How do you know?”
“Because they're always dhrunk—that same crew; and if they're not dhrunk to-night, it's the first time in their lives they ever were sober. So make haste, now, and put off your coat, till we make a purty young colleen out o' you.”