“By Japers,” said Whiskey, “I knew he wouldn't let himself be bate. I knew when it came to the push he wouldn't.”
“Well, Barney,” said Toal, “don't make them strong for him, for they might get into his head; he hasn't a good head anyway—let them be rather wake, Barney.”
“No,” said Art, “let them be as strong as his, and stronger, Barney; and lose no time about it.”
“I had better color them,” said Barney, “an' the people about the place 'll think it's cordial still.”
“Color the devil,” replied Art; “put no colorin' on them. Do you think I'm afeard of any one, or any colors?”
“You afeard of any one,” exclaimed Tom Whiskey; “one o' the ould Maguires afeard! ha, ha, ha!—that 'ud be good!”
Art, when the tumblers came in, drank off first one, which he had no sooner emptied, than he shivered into pieces against the grate; he then emptied the other, which shared the same fate.
“Now,” said he to Barney, “bring me a third one; I'll let yez see what a Maguire is.”
The third, on making its appearance, was immediately drained, and shivered like the others—for the consciousness of acting-wrong, in spite of his own resolution, almost drove him mad. Of what occurred subsequently in the public house, it is not necessary to give any account, especially as we must follow Art home—simply premising, before we do so, that the fact of “Art Maguire having broken the pledge,” had been known that very night to almost all Ballykeerin—thanks to the industry of Toal Finnigan, and his other friends.
His unhappy wife, after their conversation that evening, experienced one of those strange, unaccountable presentiments or impressions which every one, more or less, has frequently felt. Until lately, he had not often gone out at night, because it was not until lately that the clique began to reassemble in Barney Scaddhan's. 'Tis true the feeling on her part was involuntary, but on that very account it was the more distressing; her principal apprehension of danger to him was occasioned by his intimacy with Toal Finnigan, who, in spite of all her warnings and admonitions, contrived, by the sweetness of his tongue, to hold his ground with him, and maintain his good opinion. Indeed, any one who could flatter, wheedle, and play upon his vanity successfully, was sure to do this; but nobody could do it with such adroitness as Toal Finnigan.