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Updated: June 1, 2025
Myles entered. Many and many a time had she prayed that Edward Lynne might transfer his affections to Rose Dillon; it would be such "a capital match for her, poor thing." She would repeat to herself, "Yes, quite the thing for her, though, of course, for Helen I could not hear of it yet quite the thing of all others for her."
However, Boucicault sweetened our stage by the production of The Colleen Bawn, Arrah-na-Pogue, and The Shaughraun, and showed by his rollicking impersonations of Myles, Shan, and Conn, how good-humored, hearty, and self-sacrificing Irish boys in humble life can be.
"Well, sirrah," said he at last, with a shade of impatience, "hast thou naught to say? Meseems thou takest all this with marvellous coolness." "Have I then my Lord's permission to speak my mind?" "Aye," said the Earl, "say thy say." "Sir," said Myles, "I have thought and pondered this matter much while abroad, and would now ask thee a plain question in all honest an I ha' thy leave."
Tommy's mother's next question cost her a painful effort. "Did you hear," she asked, "whether they telled Aaron Latta about the letter?" "Yes, they telled him," Tommy replied, "and he said a queer thing; he said, 'Jean Myles is dead, I was at her coffining. That's what he aye says when they tell him there's another letter. I wonder what he means, mother?" "I wonder!" she echoed, faintly.
Then Diccon Bowman carried him out into the strangeness of the winter midnight. Outside, beyond the frozen moat, where the osiers, stood stark and stiff in their winter nakedness, was a group of dark figures waiting for them with horses. In the pallid moonlight Myles recognized the well-known face of Father Edward, the Prior of St. Mary's.
And above, parti-colored pennants and streamers, surmounted by the royal ensign of England, waved and fluttered in the brisk wind. At either end of the lists stood the pavilions of the knights. Myles, partly armed, stood at the door-way of the pavilion, watching the folk gathering at the scaffolding.
Several windows, some closed with shutters, peeped here and there from out the leaves, and near the top of the pile was a row of arched openings, as though of a balcony or an airy gallery. Myles had more than once felt an idle curiosity about this tower, and one day, as he and Gascoyne sat together, he pointed his finger and said, "What is yon place?"
Go thou to the Long Gallery, and thither they will come anon if naught hinder them." Myles waited in the Long Gallery perhaps some fifteen or twenty minutes. No one was there but himself. It was a part of the castle connecting the Earl's and the Countess's apartments, and was used but little.
"Never!" cried Myles, hoarsely "never will I yield me! Thou mayst slay me, Walter Blunt, and I reck not if thou dost do so, but never else wilt thou conquer me." There was a tone of desperation in his voice that made all look serious. "Nay," said Blunt; "I will fight thee no more, Myles Falworth; thou hast had enough."
I say an they hunger to fight, give them their stomachful." The others were very reluctant for such extreme measures, but Myles, as usual, carried his way, and so a pitched battle was decided upon. It was Gascoyne who suggested the plan which they afterwards followed.
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