“'T was a handsome thing!” was the universal remark.
“And 'faith I can tell you, Captain Moriarty, the army took advantage of it; for there was a great struggle to have the pleasure of the ladies' company over the river.”
“I dare say, Father Phil,” said the Squire, laughing.
“Throth, Squire,” said the padre, “fond of the girls as the soldiers have the reputation of being, they never liked them better than that same day.”
“Yes, yes,” said Moriarty, a little piqued, for he rather affected the “dare-devil.”
“I see you mean to insinuate that we soldiers fear fire.”
“I did not say 'fear,' captain—but they'd like to get out of it, for all that, and small blame to them—aren't they flesh and blood like ourselves?”
“Not a bit like you,” said Moriarty. “You sleek and smooth gentlemen who live in luxurious peace know little of a soldier's danger or feelings.”
“Captain, we all have our dangers to go through; and may be a priest has as many as a soldier; and we only show a difference of taste, after all, in the selection.”
“Well, Father Blake, all I know is, that a true soldier fears nothing!” said Moriarty with energy.