“And another for me,” chuckled Charley.
“Ay, and two pair for me,” cried the black cat, speaking in a wild unearthly tone from the hob-stone, and breaking forth into a horrible laugh.
“Devil knock the day-lights out of yez all,” cried Larry, without seeming to take any notice of the strange circumstance, though his heart died within him with terror and surprise.
“Lord have mercy on us!” faintly ejaculated Betty, signing her brow, whilst all the children started up in terror, and ran behind their parents in the chimney-corner.
All this time the cat remained silent on the hob; but his aspect, at all times terrible, now seemed perfectly monstrous and hideous. For some time a death-like silence was preserved, but at last Larry plucked up courage to address the speaking animal.
“And, in the name of God,” he began, “what business have you with brogues?”
“Ask me no questions,” replied the cat, “but get me the brogues as soon as possible.”
“Oh, by all means,” replied Larry, quite gently, “you must have them; and why did you not ask them long ago, and you should have got them?”
“My time was not come,” replied Puss, briefly.
“Well,” resumed Larry, “to-morrow is Sunday, and at daybreak I will start off to my gossip Phadruig Donovan’s, in Mill-street, to engage the brogues; he is the best brogue-maker in the county, and he is my first gossip besides.”