THE DEVIL'S KITCHEN 91 



jump anywhere, so long as she got free of the boat 

 and her companion. 



One might have thought that fear was impelhng 

 her. It was not fear, however, but anger and 

 irritation. 



French and Moriarty rushed into the water up 

 to their knees, seized the dinghy either side the 

 bow, and ran her up on the sand, whilst Mr Giveen, 

 with his coat in his hand and his hat on the back of 

 his head, tumbled over the side and made as if to 

 make off. 



"Stop him!" cried the girl. "He's insulted 

 me. He has nearly drowned me. He frightened 

 me into swearing I wouldn't tell — " 



" I didn't," cried Mr Giveen, now in the power- 

 ful grasp of his cousin. " It wasn't my fault. Let 

 loose of me ! Let up, or I'll have the law of you ! " 



" Didn't you? " repUed French, who had caught 

 his kinsman by the scruff of his neck and was hold- 

 ing him from behind, shaking him as a terrier 

 shakes a rat. " We'll soon see that. Moriarty, 

 run for a poHceman. Take a horse and go for the 

 constable at Drumboyne. Well, then, what do 

 you mean, eh? What do you mean, eh? — you 

 blackguard, with your philandering ! You bubble- 

 headed, chuckle-headed son of a black sweep, 

 you! Call yourself an Irish gentleman! Insult- 

 ing a lady ! Miss Grimshaw, say the word and I'll 

 stick the ugly head of him in the water and drown 

 him." 



"No, no!" cried the girl, taking the words 



