THE MEET OF THE HOUNDS 113 



your ugly gob stuck at me winda there ! Gr-r-r ! 

 Out wid you, you basthard you, or I'll lay you 

 flat so your mother won't know you wid a sod of 

 turf. Off wid you and ax your father what he 

 meant gettin' such a monkey-faced parrit, and 

 lettin' it loose on the parish widout a chain to it, 

 you cross-eyed, misbegot son of a — " 



All of which was better than pearls to the one at 

 the window. 



Horrified at the language, and fearing a stroke 

 for Mrs Moriarty, the girl ran to the door and 

 opened it, only to see a small gossoon, bare-legged 

 and bare-footed, vanishing round the corner. 



Then she came back, anxious to get out of Mrs 

 Moriarty more information concerning the plans 

 against French, but the source had dried up. The 

 old lady declared herseK to be moidhered and her 

 wits to be all astray. 



" Well, listen to me," said Violet. " If you hear 

 any more of those men going to harm Mr French 

 or his horses let me know, and I'll give you a 

 silver five-shiUing piece for yourself." 



Mrs Moriarty understood that. 



At this moment the door opened and Mr French 

 appeared, and, leaving the old lady to her pipe 

 and the prospect of a glass of whisky, they went 

 back to the inn for luncheon. 



The hideous old-fashioned Irish custom of 

 dinner at fom* o'clock had been put aside on 

 account of Miss Grimshaw. Seven o'clock was the 

 dinner hour at Drumgool now, and after dinner 



