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M'Cabe, his curate, were obliged to give her up, and forbid her the parish; but Funny Eye only winks and laughs at them and the world. She's the last, sir but I'll be on the look out, God willin', for a few more desperate cases to crown our victory over the dev ahem! over Satan and the priests."
In vain, therefore, did Father M'Cabe denounce and prophesy in vain did he launch all the dogmas of the church in vain did he warn, lecture, and threaten Darby's private hint had gone abroad precisely a day or two before their encounter, and the consequence was what might be expected.
Ay, and may be we won't give big M' M'Cabe, or M'Flail, a ran that will do him good too, hip, hip so good good-night till I see you-you just as you ought to be knitting your stock-cooking like Biddy O'Doherty; hip!"
That individual is no other than the Rev. Father M'Cabe, who is dressed in a coat and waistcoat of coarse black broadcloth, somewhat worse for the wear, a pair of black breeches, deprived of their original gloss, and a pair of boots well greased with honest hog's lard the fact being, that the wonderful discovery of Day and Martin had not then come to light. Mr.
"Ah, be me sowl, it's near the last gasp wid him and his masther, and no wondher; they're both divilish far out of their element. Faith, if they had Father M'Cabe and Parra Gastha's practice, they wouldn't be the show they are this minute. Well done both! fresh and fair, snug and dry, you do it. Hurra!"
Turning to the speaker, the young man recognized Pat M'Cabe, whom he also associated with his evil fortunes, and toward whom he now felt a strong vindictiveness, the sudden and unreasoning anger of intoxication. In reply, therefore, he threw the contents of his glass into Pat's face, saying with a curse: "That is the way I drink with such as you."
One circumstance was certainly strongly in his favor; Father M'Cabe had taken care to imprint with his whip a prima facie testimony of sincerity upon his countenance, which was black, and swollen into large welts by the exposition of doctrinal truth which he had received at that gentleman's hands.
In fact, both converts, in the bitterness of their hatred, were beginning to forget the new characters they had to support, and to glide back unconsciously, or we should rather say, by the force of conscience, to their original creeds. "If Father M'Cabe was wise he'd send you to the heretics again."
"Thank you for your courtesy," answered the reporter, shutting his book with a snap like that of a steel trap. "I have now about all the points I wish to get here. I understand that Mr. Patrick M'Cabe is no longer under any obligations to you, and from him I can learn additional particulars. Good-morning."
Bust me if I don't thry him, if he'll fust promise me to say it any one axes him that he niver saw Pat M'Cabe in his loife," and the suddenly improvised reporter climbed the long stairways to where the night editor sat at his desk.
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