Chapter 4. A Poteen Still-House At Midnight--Its Inmates

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_ CHAPTER IV. A Poteen Still-House at Midnight--Its Inmates

About three miles in a south-western direction from Burke's residence, the country was bounded by a range of high hills and mountains of a very rugged and wild, but picturesque description. Although a portion of the same landscape, yet nothing could be more strikingly distinct in character than the position of the brown wild hills, as contrasted with that of the mountains from which they abutted. The latter ran in long and lofty ranges that were marked by a majestic and sublime simplicity, whilst the hills were of all shapes and sizes, and seemed as if cast about at random. As a matter of course the glens and valleys that divided them ran in every possible direction, sometimes crossing and intersecting each other at right angles, and sometimes running parallel, or twisting away in opposite directions. In one of those glens that lay nearest the mountains, or rather indeed among them, was a spot which from its peculiar position would appear to have been designed from the very beginning as a perfect paradise for the illicit distiller. It was a kind of back chamber in the mountains, that might, in fact, have escaped observation altogether, as it often did. The approach to it was by a long precipitous glen, that could be entered only at its lower end, and seemed to terminate against the abrupt side of the mountain, like a cul de sac. At the very extremity, however, of this termination, and a little on the right-hand side, there was a steep, narrow pass leading into a recess which was completely encompassed by precipices. From this there was only one means of escape independently of the gut through which it was entered. The moors on the side most approachable were level, and on a line to the eye with that portion of the mountains which bounded it on the opposite side, so that as one looked forward the space appeared to be perfectly continuous, and consequently no person could suspect that there lay so deep and precipitous a glen between them.

In the northern corner of this remarkable locality, a deep cave, having every necessary property as a place for private distillation, ran under the rocks, which met over it in a kind of gothic arch. A stream of water just sufficient for the requisite purposes, fell in through a fissure from above, forming such a little subterraneous cascade in the cavern as human design itself could scarcely have surpassed in felicity of adaptation to the objects of an illicit distiller.

To this cave, then, we must take the liberty of transporting our readers, in order to give them an opportunity of getting a peep at the inside of a Poteen Still-house, and of hearing a portion of conversation, which, although not remarkable for either elegance or edification, we are, nevertheless, obliged to detail, as being in some degree necessary to the elucidation of our narrative. Up in that end which constituted the termination of the cave, and fixed upon a large turf fire which burned within a circle of stones that supported it, was a tolerably-sized Still, made of block-tin. The mouth of this Still was closed by an air-tight cover, also of tin, called the Head, from which a tube of the same metal projected into a large keeve, or condenser, that was kept always filled with cool water by an incessant stream from the cascade we have described, which always ran into and overflowed it. The arm of this head was fitted and made air-tight, also, into a spiral tube of copper, called the Worm, which rested in the water of the cooler; and as it consisted of several convolutions, like a cork-screw, its office was to condense the hot vapor which was transmitted to it from the glowing Still into that description of spirits known as poteen. At the bottom of this cooler, the Worm terminated in a small cock or spigot, from which the spirits projected in a slender stream, about the thickness of a quill, into a vessel placed for its reception. Such was the position of the Still, Head, and Worm, when in full operation. Fixed about the cave, upon rude stone stillions, were the usual vessels requisite for the various processes through which it was necessary to put the malt, before the wort, which is its first liquid shape, was fermented, cleared off, and thrown into the Still to be singled; for our readers must know that distillation is a double process, the first product being called singlings, and the second or last, doublings--which is the perfect liquor. Sacks of malt, empty vessels, piles of turf, heaps of grains, tubs of wash, and kegs of whiskey, were lying about in all directions, together with pots, pans, wooden trenchers, and dishes, for culinary uses. The seats were round stones and black bosses which were made of a light hard moss found in the mountains and bogs, and frequently used as seats in rustic chimney corners. On entering, your nose was assailed by such a mingled stench of warm grains, sour barm, putrid potato skins, and strong whiskey, as required considerable fortitude to bear without very unequivocal tokens of disgust.

The persons assembled were in every way worthy of the place and its dependencies. Seated fronting the fire was our friend Teddy Phats, which was the only name he was ever known by, his wild, beetle brows lit into a red, frightful glare of savage mirth that seemed incapable, in its highest glee, to disengage itself entirely from an expression of the man's unquenchable ferocity. Opposite to him sat a tall, smut-faced, truculent-looking young fellow, with two piercing eyes and a pair of grim brows, which, when taken into conjunction with a hard, unfeeling mouth, from the corners of which two right lines ran down his chin, giving that part of his face a most dismal expression, constituted a countenance that matched exceedingly well with the visage of Teddy Phats. This worthy gentleman was a tinker, and one of Hogan's brothers, whom we have already introduced to our readers. Scattered about the fire and through the cavern were a party of countrymen who came to purchase whiskey for a wedding, and three or four publicans and shebeenmen who had come on professional business. Some were drinking, some indulging in song, and some were already lying drunk or asleep in different parts of this subterraneous pandemonium. Exalted in what was considered the position of honor sat a country hedge-schoolmaster, his mellow eye beaming with something between natural humor, a sense of his own importance, and the influence of pure whiskey, fresh it is called, from the Still-eye.

"Here, Teddy," said one of the countrymen, "will you fill the bottle again."

"No," replied Teddy, who though as cunning as the devil himself, could seldom be got to speak anything better than broken English, and that of such a character that it was often scarcely intelligible.

"No," he replied; "I gav'd you wan bottle 'idout payment fwhor her, an' by shapers I won't give none oder."

"Why, you burning beauty, aren't we takin' ten gallons, an' will you begrudge us a second bottle?"

"Shiss--devil purshue de bottle more ye'll drunk here 'idout de airigad, (* Money) dat's fwhat you will."

"Teddy," said the schoolmaster, "I drink propitiation to you as a profissional gintle-man! No man uses more indepindent language than you do. You are under no earthly obligation to Messrs. Syntax and Prosody. Grammar, my worthy friend, is banished as an intruder from your elocution, just as you would exclude a gauger from your Still-house."

"Fwhat about de gagur!" exclaimed Teddy, starting; "d--n him an' shun-tax an' every oder tax, rint an' all--hee! hee! hee!"

We may as well let our readers know, before we proceed farther, that in the opinion of many, Teddy Phats understood and could speak English as well as any man of his station in the country. In fairs or markets, or other public places, he spoke, it is true, nothing but Irish unless in a private way, and only to persons in whom he thought he could place every confidence. It was often observed, however, that in such conversations he occasionally arranged the matter of those who could use only English to him, in such a way as proved pretty clearly that he must have possessed a greater mastery over that language than he acknowledged. We believe the fact to be, however, that Teddy, as an illicit distiller, had found it, on some peculiar occasions connected with his profession, rather an inconvenient accomplishment to know English. He had given some evidence in his day, and proved, or attempted to prove, a few alibies on behalf of his friends; and he always found, as there is good reason to believe, that the Irish language, when properly enunciated through the medium of an interpreter, was rather the safer of the two, especially when resorted to within the precincts of the country court-house and in hearing of the judge.

"You're a fool, Teddy," said Hogan; "let them drink themselves; blind--this liquor's paid for; an' if they lose or spill it by the 'way, why, blazes to your purty mug, don't you know they'll have to pay for another cargo."

Teddy immediately took the hint.

"Barney Brogan," he shouted to a lubberly-looking, bullet-headed cub, half knave, half fool, who lived about such establishments, and acted as messenger, spy, and vidette; "listen hedher! bring Darby Keenan dere dat bottle, an' let 'em drink till de grace o' God comes on 'em--ha, ha, ha!"

"More power to you, Vaynus," exclaimed Keenan; "you're worth a thousand pounds, quarry weight."

"I am inclined to think, Mr. Keenan," said the schoolmaster, "that you are in the habit occasionally of taking slight liberties wid the haythen mythology. Little, I'll be bound, the divine goddess of beauty ever dreamt she'd find a representative in Teddy Phats."

"Bravo! masther," replied Keenan, "you're the boy can do--only that English is too tall for me. At any rate," he added, approaching the worthy preceptor, "take a spell o' this--it's a language we can all understand."

"You mane to say, Darby," returned the other, "that it's a kind of universal spelling-book amongst us, and so it is--an alphabet aisily larned. Your health, now and under all circumstances! Teddy, or Thaddeus, I drink to your symmetry and inexplicable proportions; and I say for your comfort, my worthy distillator, that if you are not so refulgent in beauty as Venus, you are a purer haythen."

"Fwhat a bloody fwhine Bairlha man the meeisther is," said Teddy, with a grin. "Fwhaicks, meeisthur, your de posey of Tullyticklem, spishilly wid Captain Fwhiskey at your back. You spake de Bairlha up den jist all as one as nobody could understand her--ha, ha, ha!"

The master, whose name was Finigan, or, as he wished to be called, O'Finigan, looked upon Teddy and shook his head very significantly.

"I'm afraid, my worthy distallator," he proceeded, "that the proverb which says 'latet anguis in herba,' is not inapplicable in your case. I think I can occasionally detect in these ferret-like orbs that constitute such an attractive portion of your beauty, a passing scintillation of intelligence which you wish to keep a secretis, as they say."

"Mr. Finigan," said Keenan, who had now returned to his friends, "if you wouldn't be betther employed to-morrow, you'd be welcome to the weddin'."

"Many thanks, Mr. Keenan," replied Finigan; "I accept your hospitable offer wid genuine cordiality. To-morrow will be a day worthy of a white mark to all parties concerned. Horace calls it chalk, which is probably the most appropriate substance with which the records of matrimonial felicity could be registered, crede experto."

"At any rate, Misther Finigan, give the boys a holiday to-morrow, and be down wid us airly."

"There is not," replied Finigan, who was now pretty well advanced, "I believe widin the compass of written or spoken language--and I might on that subject appeal to Mr. Thaddeus O'Phats here, who is a good authority on that particular subject, or indeed on any one that involves the beauty of elocution--I say, then, there is not widin the compass of spoken language a single word composed of two syllables so delectable to human ears, as is that word 'dismiss,' to the pupils of a Plantation Seminary; (* A modest periphrasis for a Hedge-School) and I assure you that those talismanic syllables shall my youthful pupils hear correctly pronounced to-morrow about ten o'clock."

Whilst O'Finigan was thus dealing out the king's English with such complacent volubility--a volubility that was deeply indebted to the liquor he had taken--the following dialogue took place in a cautious under-tone between Batt Hogan and Teddy.

"So Hycy the sportheen is to be up here to-night?"

"Shiss."

"B--t your shiss! can't you spake like a Christian?"

"No, I won't," replied the other, angrily; "I'll spake as I likes."

"What brings him up, do you know?"

"Bekaise he's goin' to thry his misfortune upon her here," he replied, pointing to the still. "You'll have a good job of her, fwhedher or no."

"Why, will he want a new one, do you think?"

"Shiss, to be sure--would ye tink I'd begin to run (* A slang phrase for distilling) for him on dis ould skillet? an' be de token moreover, dat wouldn't be afther puttin' nothin' in your pockets--hee! hee! hee!"

"Well, all that's right--don't work for him widout a new one complate, Teddy--Still, Head, and Worm."

"Shiss, I tell you to be sure I won't--he thried her afore, though."

"Nonsense!--no he didn't."

"Ah, ha! ay dhin--an' she milked well too--a good cow--a brave cheehony she was for him."

"An' why did he give it up?"

"Fwhy--fwhy, afeard he'd be diskivered, to be sure; an' dhin shure he couldn't hunt wid de dinnaousais--wid de gentlemans."

"An' what if he's discovered now?"

"Fwhat?--fwhy so much the worsher for you an' me: he's ginerous now an' den, anyway; but a great rogue afther all, fwher so high a hid as he carries."

"If I don't mistake," proceeded Hogan, "either himself or his family, anyhow, will be talked of before this time to-morrow."

"Eh, Batt?" asked the other, who had changed his position and sat beside him during this dialogue--"how is dhat now?"

"I don't rightly know--I can't say," replied Hogan, with a smile murderously grim but knowing--"I'm not up; but the sportheen's a made boy, I think."

"Dher cheerna! you are up," said Teddy, giving him a furious glance as he spoke; "there must be no saycrits, I say."

"You're a blasted liar, I tell you--I am not, but I suspect--that's all."

"What brought you up dhis night?" asked Teddy, suspiciously.

"Because I hard he was to come," replied his companion; "but whether or not I'd be here."

"Tha sha maigh--it's right--may be so--shiss, it's all right, may be so--well?"

Teddy, although he said it was all right, did not seem however to think so. The furtive and suspicious glance which he gave Hogan from under his red beetle brows should be seen in order to be understood.

"Well?" said Hogan, re-echoing him--"it is well; an' what is more, my Kate is to be up here wid a pair o' geese to roast for us, for we must make him comfortable. She wint to thry her hand upon somebody's roost, an' it'll go hard if she fails!"

"Fwhail!" exclaimed Teddy, with a grin--"ah, the dioual a fwhail!"

"An' another thing--he's comin' about Kathleen Cavanagh--Hycy is. He wants to gain our intherest about her!"

"Well, an' what harm?"

"Maybe there is, though, it's whispered that he--hut! doesn't he say himself that there isn't a girl of his own religion in the parish he'd marry--now I'd like to see them married, Teddy, but as for anything else--"

"Hee! hee! hee!--well," exclaimed Teddy, with a horrible grimace that gave his whole countenance a facequake, "an' maybe he's right. Maybe it 'udn't be aisy to get a colleen of his religion--I tink his religion is fwhere Phiddher Fwhite's estate is--beyant the beyands, Avhere the mare foaled the fwhiddler--hee! hee! hee!"

"He had better thry none of his sckames wid any of the Cavanaghs," said Bat, "for fraid he might be brought to bed of a mistake some fine day--that's all I say; an' there's more eyes than mine upon him."

This dialogue was nearly lost in the loudness of a debate which had originated with Keenan and certain of his friends in the lower part of the still-house. Some misunderstanding relative to the families of the parties about to be united had arisen, and was rising rapidly into a comparative estimate of the prowess and strength of their respective factions, and consequently assuming a very belligerent aspect, when a tall, lank, but powerful female, made her appearance, carrying a large bundle in her hand.

"More power, Kate!" exclaimed Hogan. "I knew she would," he added, digging Teddy's ribs with his elbow.

"Aisy, man!" said his companion; "if you love me, say so, but don't hint it dat way."

"Show forth, Kate!" proceeded her husband; "let us see the prog--hillo!--oh, holy Moses! what a pair o' beauties!"

He then whipped up a horn measure, that contained certainly more than a naggin, and putting it under the warm spirits that came out of the still-eye, handed it to her. She took it, and coming up towards the fire, which threw out a strong light, nodded to them, and, without saying a word, literally pitched it down her throat, whilst at the same time one of her eyes presented undeniable proofs of a recent conflict. We have said that there were several persons singing and dancing, and some asleep, in the remoter part of the cave; and this was true, although we refrained from mingling up either their mirth or melody with the conversation of the principal personages. All at once, however, a series of noises, equally loud and unexpected, startled melodists, conversationalists, and sleepers all to their legs. These were no other than the piercing cackles of two alarmed geese which Hogan's wife had secured from some neighboring farmer, in order to provide a supper for our friend Hycy.

"Ted," said the female, "I lost my knife since I came out, or they'd be quiet enough before this; lend me one a minute, you blissed babe."

"Shiss, to be sure, Kate," he replied, handing her a large clasp knife with a frightful blade; "an', Kate, whisper, woman alive--you're bought up, I see."

"How is that, you red rascal?"

"Bekaise, don't I see dat de purchaser has set his mark upon ye?--hee! hee! hee!" and he pointed to her eye* as he spoke.

* A black eye is said to be the devil's mark.

"No," she replied, nodding towards her husband, "that's his handy work; an' ye divil's clip!" she added, turning to Teddy, "who has a betther right?"

She then bled the geese, and, looking about her, asked--

"Have you any wet hay or straw in the place?"

"Ay, plenty of bote," replied Teddy; "an' here's de greeshavigh ready."

She then wrapped the geese, feathers and all, separately in a covering of wet hay, which she bound round them with thumb-ropes of the same material, and clearing away a space among the burning ashes, placed each of them in it, and covered them up closely.

"Now," said she, "put down a pot o' praities, and we won't go to bed fastin'."

The different groups had now melted into one party, much upon the same principle that the various little streamlets on the mountains around them all run, when swollen by a sudden storm, into some larger torrent equally precipitous and turbulent. Keenan, who was one of those pertinacious fellows that are equally quarrelsome and hospitable when in liquor, now resumed the debate with a characteristic impression of the pugilistic superiority of his family:--

"I am right, I say: I remember it well, for although I wasn't there myself, my father was, an' I often h'ard him say--God rest his sowl!"--here he reverently took off his hat and looked upwards--"I often h'ard him say that Paddy Keenan gave Mullin the first knock-down blow, an' Pether--I mane no disrespect, but far from it--give us your hand, man alive--you're going to be married upon my shisther to-morrow, plaise God!--masther, you'll come, remimber? you'll be as welcome as the flowers o' May, masther--so, Pether, as I was sayin'--I mane no offince nor disrespect to you or yours, for you are, an' ever was, a daisent family, an' well able to fight your corner when it came upon you--but still, Pether--an' for all that--I say it--an' I'll stand to it--I'll stand it--that's the chat!--that, man for man, there never was one o' your seed, breed, or generation able to fight a Keenan--that's the chat!--here's luck!

"'Oh, 'twas in the month of May,
When the lambkins sport and play,
As I walked out to gain raycrayation,
I espied a comely maid.
Sequestrin' in the shade--
On her beauty I gazed wid admiraytion,'

No, Pether, you never could; the Mullins is good men--right good men, but they couldn't do it."

"Barney," said the brother of the bridegroom, "you may thank God that Pether is going to be married to your sisther to-morrow as you say, or we'd larn you another lesson--eh, masther? That's the chat too--ha! ha! ha! To the divil wid sich impedence!"

"Gintlemen," said Finigan, now staggering down towards the parties, "I am a man of pacific principles, acquainted wid the larned languages, wid mathematics, wid philosophy, the science of morality according to Fluxions--I grant you, I'm not college-bred; but, gintlemen, I never invied the oysther in its shell--for, gintlemen, I'm not ashamed of it, but I acquired--I absorbed my laming, I may say, upon locomotive principles."

"Bravo, masther!" said Keenan; "that's what some o' them couldn't say--"

"Upon locomotive principles. I admit Munster, gintlemen--glorious Kerry!--yes, and I say I am not ashamed of it. I do plead guilty to the peripatetic system: like a comet I travelled during my juvenile days--as I may truly assert wid a slight modicum of latitude" (here he lurched considerably to the one side)--"from star to star, until I was able to exhibit all their brilliancy united simply, I can safely assert, in my own humble person. Gintlemen, I have the honor of being able to write 'Philomath' after my name--which is O'Finigan, not Finigan, by any means--and where is the oyster in his shell could do that? Yes, and although they refused me a sizarship in Trinity College--for what will not fear and envy do?

"'Tantaene animis celesiibus irae'

Yet I have the consolation to know that my name is seldom mentioned among the literati of classical Kerry--nudis cruribus as they are--except as the Great O'Finigan! In the mane time--"

"Bravo, Masther!" exclaimed Keenan, interrupting him. "Here, Ted! another bottle, till the Great O'Finigan gets a glass of whiskey."

"Yes, gintlemen," proceeded O'Finigan, "the alcohol shall be accepted, puris naturalibus--which means, in its native--or more properly--but which comes to the same thing--in its naked state; and, in the mane time, I propose the health of one of my best benefactors--Gerald Cavanagh, whose hospitable roof is a home--a domicilium to erudition and respectability, when they happen, as they ought, to be legitimately concatenated in the same person--as they are in your humble servant; and I also beg leave to add the pride of the barony, his fair and virtuous daughter, Kathleen, in conjunction wid the I accomplished son of another benefactor of mine--honest James Burke--in conjunction, I say, wid his son, Mr. Hyacinth. Ah, gintlemen--Billy Clinton, you thievin' villain! you don't pay attention; I say, gintlemen, if I myself could deduct a score of years from the period of my life, I should endeavor to run through the conjugations of amo in society wid that pearl of beauty. In the mane time--"

"Here's her health, masther," returned Keenan, "an' her father's too, an' Hycy Burke's into the bargain--is there any more o' them? Well, no matter." Then turning to his antagonist, he added, "I say agin, thin, that a Mullin's not a match for a Keenan, nor never was--no, nor never will be! That's the chat! and who's afeard to say it? eh, masther?"

"It's a lie!" shouted one of the opposite party; "I'm able to lick e'er a Keenan that ever went on nate's leather--an' that's my chat."

A blow from Keenan in reply was like a spark to gunpowder. In a moment the cavern presented a scene singularly tragic-comic; the whole party was one busy mass of battle, with the exception of Ted and Batt, and the wife of the latter, who, having first hastily put aside everything that might be injured, stood enjoying the conflict with most ferocious glee, the schoolmaster having already withdrawn himself to his chair. Even Barney Broghan, the fool, could not keep quiet, but on the contrary, thrust himself into the quarrel, and began to strike indiscriminately at all who came in his way, until an unlucky blow on the nose happening, to draw his claret very copiously, he made a bound up behind the sill, uttering a series of howlings, as from time to time he looked at his own blood, that were amusing in the extreme. As it happened, however, the influence of liquor was too strong upon both parties to enable them to inflict on each other any serious injury. Such, however, was the midnight pastime of the still-house when our friend Hycy entered.

"What in the devil's name--or the guager's--which is worse--" he asked, addressing himself to Batt and Teddy, "is the meaning of all this?"

"Faith, you know a'most as much about it," replied Hogan, laughing, "as we do; they got drunk, an' that accounts for it."

"Mr. Burke," said Finigan, who was now quite tipsy; "I am delighted to be able to--to--yes, it is he," he added, speaking to himself--"to see you well."

"I have my doubts as to that, Mr. Finigan," replied Hycy.

"Fame, Mr. Burke," continued the other, "has not been silent with regard to your exploits. Your horsemanship, sir, and the trepid pertinacity with which you fasten upon the reluctant society of men of rank, have given you a notorious celebrity, of which your worthy father, honest Jemmy, as he is called, ought to be justly proud. And you shine, Mr. Burke, in the loves as well as in the--tam veneri quam--I was about to add Marti, but it would be inappropriate, or might only remind you of poor Biddy Martin. It is well known you are a most accomplished gintleman, Mr. Burke--homo fadus ad unguem--ad unguem."

Hycy would have interrupted the schoolmaster, but that he felt puzzled as to whether he spoke seriously or ironically; his attention besides was divided between him and the party in conflict.

"Come," said he, addressing Hogan and Teddy, "put an end to this work, and why did you, you misbegotten vagabond," he added, turning to the latter, "suffer these fellows to remain here when you knew I was to come up?"

"I must shell my fwisky," replied Teddy, sullenly, "fwhedher you come or stay."

"If you don't clear the place of them instantly," replied Hycy, "I shall return home again."

Hogan seemed a good deal alarmed at this intimation, and said--"Ay, indeed, Terry, we had better put them out o' this."

"Fwhor fwhat?" asked Teddy, "dere my best customers shure--an' fwlay would I quarrel wid 'em all fwor wan man?"

"Good-night, then, you misshapen ruffian," said Burke, about to go.

"Aisy, Mr. Burke," said. Hogan; "well soon make short work wid them. Here, Ted, you devil's catch-penny, come an' help me! Hillo, here!" he shouted, "what are you at, you gallows crew? Do you want to go to the stone jug, I say? Be off out o' this--here's the guager, blast him, an' the sogers! Clear out, I tell you, or every mother's son of you will sleep undher the skull and cross-bones to-night." (* Meaning the County Prison)

"Here you, Barney," whispered Teddy, who certainly did not wish that Burke should return as he came; "here, you great big fwhool you, give past your yowlin' dere--and lookin' at your blood--run out dere, come in an' shout the gauger an' de sogers."

Barney, who naturally imagined that the intelligence was true, complied with the order he had received in a spirit of such alarming and dreadful earnestness, that a few minutes found the still-house completely cleared of the two parties, not excepting Hogan himself, who, having heard nothing of Teddy's directions to the fool, took it now for granted that that alarm was a real one, and ran along with the rest. The schoolmaster had fallen asleep, Kate Hogan was engaged in making preparations for supper at the lower end of the casern, and the fool had been dispatched to fetch Hogan himself back, so that Hycy now saw there was a good opportunity for stating at more length than he could in the market the purpose of his visit.

"Teddy," said he, "now that the coast's clear, let us lose no time in coming to the point. You are aware that Bryan M'Mahon has come into the mountain farm of Ahadarra by the death of his uncle."

"Shiss; dese three years."

"You will stick to your cursed brogue," said the other; "however, that's your own affair. You are aware of this?"

"I am."

"Well, I have made my mind up to take another turn at this," and he tapped the side of the still with his stick; "and I'll try it there. I don't know a better place, and it is much more convenient than this."

Teddy looked at him from under his brows, but seemed rather at a loss to comprehend his meaning.

"Fwor fhy 'ud you go to Ahadarra?"

"It's more convenient, and quite as well adapted for it as this place, or nearly."

"Well! Shiss, well?"

"Well; why that's all I have to say about it, except that I'm not to be seen or known in the business at all--mark that."

"Shiss--well? De Hogans must know it?"

"I am aware of that; we couldn't go on without them. This running of your's will soon be over; very well. You can go to Ahadarra to-morrow and pitch upon a proper situation for a house. These implements will do."

"No, dey won't; I wouldn't tink to begin at all wid dat ould skillet. You must get de Hogans to make a new Still, Head and Worm, an' dat will be money down."

"Very well; I'll provide the needful; let Philip call to me in a day or two."

"Dat Ahadarra isn't so safe," said Teddy. "Fwhy wouldn't you carry it on here?" and he accompanied the query with a piercing-glance as he spoke.

"Because," replied Hycy, "I have been seen here too often already, and my name must not in any way be connected with your proceedings. This place, besides, is now too much known. It's best and safest to change our bob, Ted."

"Dere's trewt in dhat, anyhow," said the other, now evidently more satisfied as to Hycy's motive in changing. "But," he added, "as you is now to schange, it 'ud be gooder to shange to some better place nor Ahadarra."

"I know of none better or safer," said Burke.

"Ay, fifty," returned his companion, resuming his suspicious looks; "but no matther, any way you must only plaise yerself--'tis all the shame to me."

"Ahadarra it must be then," said the other, "and that ends it."

"Vary well, den, Ahadarra let her be," said Ted, and the conversation on this subject dropped.

The smuggler's supper now made it's appearance. The geese were beautifully done, and as Hycy's appetite had got a keen stimulus by his mountain walk, he rendered them ample justice.

"Trot," said Teddy, "sich a walk as you had droo de mountains was enough to sharpen anybody's appetite."

Hogan also plied him with punch, having provided himself with sugar for that express purpose. Hycy, however, was particularly cautious, and for a long time declined to do more than take a little spirits and water. It was not, in fact, until he had introduced the name of Kathleen Cavanagh that he consented to taste punch. Between the two, however, Burke's vanity was admirably played on; and Hogan wound up the dialogue by hinting that Hycy, no matter how appearances might go, was by no means indifferent to the interesting daughter of the house of Cavanagh.

At length, when the night was far advanced, Burke rose, and taking his leave like a man who had forgotten some appointment, but with a very pompous degree of condescension, sought his way in the direction of home, across the mountains.

He had scarcely gone, when Hogan, as if struck by a sudden recollection, observed as he thought it would be ungenerous to allow him, at that hour of the night, to cross the mountains by himself. He accordingly whispered a few words to his wife, and left them with an intention, as he said, to see Mr. Hycy safe home. _

Read next: Chapter 5. Who Robbed Jemmy Burke?

Read previous: Chapter 3. Jemmy Burke Refuses To Be, Made A Fool Of

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