"What could I do agen eight?" asked Andy.

"Why did you let them in, I say again?" said the mother, quickly.

"Sure the blame wasn't with me," said Andy, "but with--"

"Whisht, whisht, you goose!" said his mother. "Av course you'll blame every one and everything but yourself--'_The losing horse blames the saddle_.'"

"Well, maybe it's all for the best," said Andy, "afther all."

"Augh, howld your tongue!"

"And if it _wasn't_ to be, how could it be?"

"Listen to him!"

"And Providence is over us all."

"Oh! yis!" said the mother. "When fools make mistakes they lay the blame on Providence. How have you the impidence to talk o' Providence in that manner? _I'll_ tell you where the Providence was. Providence sent you to Jack Dwyer's, and kep Jim Casey away, and put the anger into owld Jack's heart--that's what the Providence did!--and made the opening for you to spake up, and gave you a wife--a wife with _property!_ Ah, there's where the Providence was!--and you were the masther of a snug house--that was Providence! And wouldn't myself have been the one to be helping you in the farm--rearing the powlts, milkin' the cow, makin' the iligant b.u.t.ther, with lavings of b.u.t.thermilk for the pigs--the sow thriving, and the c.o.c.ks and hens cheering your heart with their cacklin'--the hank o' yarn on the wheel, and a hank of ingins up the chimbley--oh! there's where the Providence would have been--that _would have been Providence indeed!_--but never tell me that Providence turned you out of the house; _that_ was your own _goostherumfoodle._"

"Can't he take the law o' them, aunt?" inquired Oonah.

"To be sure he can--and shall, too," said the mother. "I'll be off to 'torney Murphy to-morrow; I'll pursue her for my eye, and Andy for the property, and I'll put them all in Chancery, the villains!"

"It's Newgate they ought to be put in," said Andy.

"Tut, you fool, Chancery is worse than Newgate: for people sometimes get out of Newgate, but they never get out of Chancery, I hear."

As Mrs. Rooney spoke, the latch of the door was raised, and a miserably clad woman entered, closed the door immediately after her, and placed the bar against it. The action attracted the attention of all the inmates of the house, for the doors of the peasantry are universally "left on the latch," and never secured against intrusion until the family go to bed.

"G.o.d save all here!" said the woman, as she approached the fire.

"Oh, is that you, ragged Nance?" said Mrs. Rooney; for that was the unenviable but descriptive t.i.tle the new-comer was known by: and though she knew it for her _soubriquet_, yet she also knew Mrs. Rooney would not call her by it if she were not in an ill temper, so she began humbly to explain the cause of her visit, when Mrs. Rooney broke in gruffly--

"Oh, you always make out a good rayson for coming; but we have nothing for you to-night."

"Throth, you do me wrong," said the beggar, "if you think I came _shooling._ [Footnote: Going on chance here and there, to pick up what one can.] It's only to keep harm from the innocent girl here."

"Arrah, what harm would happen her, woman?" returned the widow, savagely, rendered more morose by the humble bearing of her against whom she directed her severity; as if she got more angry the less the poor creature would give her cause to justify her harshness. "Isn't she undher my roof here?"

"But how long may she be left there?" asked the woman, significantly.

"What do you mane, woman?"

"I mane there's a plan to carry her off from you to-night."

Oonah grew pale with true terror, and the widow screeched, after the more approved manner of elderly ladies making believe they are very much shocked, till Nance reminded her that crying would do no good, and that it was requisite to make some preparation against the approaching danger.

Various plans were hastily suggested, and as hastily relinquished, till Nance advised a measure which was deemed the best. It was to dress Andy in female attire and let him be carried off in place of the girl. Andy roared with laughter at the notion of being made a girl of, and said the trick would instantly be seen through.

"Not if you act your part well; just keep down the giggle, jewel, and put on a moderate _phillelew,_ and do the thing nice and steady, and you'll be the saving of your cousin here."

"_You_ may deceive them with the dhress; and _I_ may do a bit of a small _shilloo,_ like a _colleen_ in disthress, and that's all very well," said Andy, "as far as seeing and hearing goes; but when they come to grip me, sure they'll find out in a minute."

"We'll stuff you out well with rags and sthraw, and they'll never know the differ--besides, remember, the fellow that wants a girl never comes for her himself, [Footnote: This is mostly the case.] but sends his friends for her, and they won't know the differ--besides, they're all dhrunk."

"How do you know?"

"Because they're always dhrunk--that same crew; and if they're not dhrunk to-night, it's the first time in their lives they ever were sober. So make haste, now, and put off your coat, till we make a purty young colleen out o' you."

It occurred now to the widow that it was a service of great danger Andy was called on to perform; and with all her abuse of "_omadhaun_" she did not like the notion of putting him in the way of losing his life, perhaps.

"They'll murdher the boy, maybe, when they find out the chate," said the widow.

"Not a bit," said Nance.

"And suppose they did," said Andy, "I'd rather die, sure, than the disgrace should fall upon Oonah, there."

"G.o.d bless you, Andy dear!" said Oonah. "Sure, you have the kind heart, anyhow; but I wouldn't for the world hurt or harm should come to you on my account."

"Oh, don't be afeard!" said Andy, cheerily; "divil a hair I value all they can do; so dhress me up at once."

After some more objections on the part of his mother, which Andy overruled, the women all joined in making up Andy into as tempting an imitation of feminality as they could contrive; but to bestow the roundness of outline on the angular form of Andy was no easy matter, and required more rags than the house afforded, so some straw was indispensable, which the pig's bed only could supply. In the midst of their fears, the women could not help laughing as they effected some likeness to their own forms, with their stuffing and padding; but to carry off the width of Andy's shoulders required a very ample and voluptuous outline indeed, and Andy could not help wishing the straw was a little sweeter which they were packing under his nose. At last, however, after soaping down his straggling hair on his forehead, and tying a bonnet upon his head to shade his face as much as possible, the disguise was completed, and the next move was to put Oonah in a place of safety.

"Get upon the hurdle in the corner, under the thatch," said Nance.

"Oh, I'd be afeard o' my life to stay in the house at all."

"You'd be safe enough, I tell you," said Nance; "for once they see that fine young woman there," pointing to Andy, and laughing, "they'll be satisfied with the lob we've made for them."

Oonah still expressed her fear of remaining in the cabin.

"Then hide in the pratee-trench, behind the house."

"That's better," said Oonah.

"And now I must be going," said Nance; "for they must not see me when they come."

"Oh, don't leave me, Nance dear," cried Oonah, "for I'm sure I'll faint with the fright when I hear them coming, if some one is not with me."

Nance yielded to Oonah's fears and entreaties, and with many a blessing and boundless thanks for the beggar-woman's kindness, Oonah led the way to the little potato garden at the back of the house, and there the women squatted themselves in one of the trenches and awaited the impending event.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Abduction]

It was not long in arriving. The tramp of approaching horses at a sharp pace rang through the stillness of the night, and the women, crouching flat beneath the overspreading branches of the potato tops, lay breathless in the bottom of the trench, as the riders came up to the widow's cottage and entered. There they found the widow and her pseudo niece sitting at the fire; and three drunken vagabonds, for the fourth was holding the horses outside, cut some fantastic capers round the cabin, and making a mock obeisance to the widow, the spokesman addressed her with--

"Your sarvant, ma'am!"

"Who are yiz at all, gintleman, that comes to my place at this time o'

night, and what's your business?"