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Updated: June 10, 2025
Wanst I half-roused, an' begad the noise in my head was tremenjus roarin' and rattlin' an' poundin', such as was quite new to me. 'Mother av Mercy, thinks I, 'phwat a concertina I will have on my shoulders whin I wake! An' wid that I curls mysilf up to sleep before ut should get hould on me. Bhoys, that noise was not dhrink, 'twas the rattle av a thrain!" There followed an impressive pause.
At the sight of Macdonald Dubh and his men there fell a dead silence, and then growls of recognition, but Murphy was not yet ready, and roaring out "Dh-r-r-i-n-k-s," he seized a couple of his men leaning against the bar, and hurling them to right and left, cried, "Ma-a-ke room for yer betthers, be the powers! Sthand up, bhoys, and fill yirsilves!"
And the trio turned and looked upon each other strangely, their faces registering mutual wonderment and conviction. "Sleep?" murmured Yorke, "No, by gum! . . . no more could Macbeth, with King Duncan and Banquo on his chest o' nights! . . . Well, that settles it!" But Slavin made a gesture of dissent. "As you were, bhoys!" was his sober mandate.
He sighed deeply, folded up the report and thrust it into an official envelope. "Well, bhoys," he concluded, "we have done all that men can' for th' toime bein' anyways." Yorke laughed somewhat mirthlessly and gazed dreamily up at his pictures.
When he raised it he shivered and put his hands on the shoulders of his two companions. "Ye've walked the Divil out av me, bhoys," said he. Ortheris shot out the red-hot dottel of his pipe on the back of the hairy fist. "They say 'Ell's 'otter than that," said he, as Mulvaney swore aloud. "You be warned so.
Maybe he'll just come a-yawnin' tu th' dhure, wid th' dhrawlin' English spache av um, sayin' 'Well, bhoys, an' fwhat's doin'? An' yet again may be he's all nerves afther th' bad break he made in front av us this mornin' expectin' us eyah! waithin', watchin' belike, wid his gun in his fisht. Luk at th' way he acted afther his gun play leery as hell. . . ."
"Bhoys," said the culprit, still shaking gently, "whin I've done my tale you may cry if you like, an' little Orth'ris here can thrample my inside out. Ha' done an' listen. My performinces have been stupenjus: my luck has been the blessed luck av the British Army an' there's no betther than that. I went out dhrunk an' dhrinkin' in the palanquin, and I have come back a pink god.
The Carlists speak of themselves as the Chicos, "the bhoys," so Chicos let them be for the future, and their opponents the troops not that it is by any means intended to be conveyed that the troops so called are much more martial than the Chicos. Well, the boys have got buglers who bugle with a will.
'Tis a way I have, savin' your presince, Sorr, in action. "Let me out, bhoys," sez I, backin' in among thim. "I'm going to be onwell!" Faith they gave me room at the wurrud, though they would not ha' givin room for all Hell wid the chill off. When I got clear, I was, savin' your presince, Sorr, outragis sick bekaze I had dhrunk heavy that day.
Before I have travelled unattended through the towns and villages of Upper Canada, and met 'the bhoys' as they are called, in all of them on their own ground, I think I shall have effected this object, in so far as the province is concerned. To right myself in England will be more difficult; but doubtless, if I live, the opportunity of so doing, even there, will sooner or later present itself.
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