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Bartle Flanagan, we need scarcely say, was well guarded until a posse of constables should arrive to take him into custody. But, in the mean time, a large and increasing party sat up in the house of the worthy Bodagh; for the neighbors had been alarmed, and came flocking to his aid.
Ned M'Cormick and Biddy Nulty followed their example, and occupied the house formerly allotted to Fardorougha and his wife. John O'Brien afterwards married, and the Bodagh, reserving a small but competent farm for himself, equally divided his large holdings between his son and son-in-law.
They were all silent as to that point; but most of them said, they wished, at all events, to give "the dirty Bodagh," for so they usually called him, something to remember them by, in consequence of his having, on all occasions, stood out against the system.
It was a capital crime; and when fame once more had proclaimed abroad that Bartle Flanagan was condemned to be hanged for robbing Bodagh Buie, they insisted still more strongly that the sentence was an undeniable instance of retributive justice.
But any how, Bartle, you oughn't to spake of Stags, for although Connor refused to join us, damn your blood, you had no right to go to inform upon him. Sure, only for the intherest that was made for him, you'd have his blood on your sowl." "An' if he had itself," observed one of Flanagan's friends, "'twould signify very little. The Bodagh desarved what he got, and more if he had got it.
"Which of you is takin' away the girl, boys?" inquired one of the strangers. "Begad, Bartle Flanagan, since there's no use in hidin' it, when we're all as we ought to be." "Bartle Flanagan!" said a voice "Bartle Flanagan, is it? An' who's the girl?" "Blur an' agres, Alick Nulty, don't be too curious, she comes from Bodagh Buie's."
"Well, well, Bid," replied the Bodagh, "maybe neither Ned nor yourself will be a loser by it. If you're bent on layin' your heads together we'll find you a weddin' present, anyway." "Bedad, sir, I'm puzzled to know how they got in so aisy," said Ned. "That matter remains to be cleared up yet," said John. "There is certainly treachery in the camp somewhere."
The dwelling of Bodagh Buie O'Brien, to which Connor is now directing his steps, was a favorable specimen of that better class of farm-houses inhabited by our most extensive and wealthy agriculturists. It was a large, whitewashed, ornamentally thatched building, that told by its external aspect of the good living, extensive comforts, and substantial opulence which prevailed within.
"He has, an' 'tis that, and bekase he's a good hand to be undher for my revinge on Blennerhasset, that made me join him." "I dunna what could make him refuse to let Alick Nulty join him?" "Is it my cousin from Annaloghan? an' did he?" "Divil a lie in it; it's as thrue as you're standin' there; but do you know what is suspected?" "No." "Why, that he has an eye on Bodagh Buie's daughter.
He questioned his own penetration; perhaps she was in the habit of glancing as much at others as she glanced at him. Could it be possible that the beautiful daughter of Bodagh Buie, the wealthiest man, and of his wife, the proudest woman, within a large circle of the country, would love the son of Fardorougha Donovan, whose name had, alas, become so odious and unpopular?
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