"Here Phil, my hairo," said his triumphant brother Bat, "take another
glass, an' may be for all so strong and murdherin' as you are wid others
you now know--an' you knew before what our woman' can do at home wid
you."
"I've--hoch--hoch--I've done wid her--she's no woman; there's a devil
in her, an' if you take my advice, it's to Priest M'Scaddhan you'd bring
her, an' have the same devil prayed out of her--I that could murdher ere
a man in the parist a'most!"
"Lave Bryan M'Mahon out," said Kate.
"No I won't," replied Phil, sullenly, and with a voice still hoarse,
"no, I won't--I that could make smash of ere a man in the parish, to be
throttled into perdition by a blasted woman. She's a devil, I say; for
the last ten minutes I seen nothin' but fire, fire, fire, as red as
blazes, an' I hard somethin' yellin', yellin', in my ears."
"Ay!" replied Kate, "I know you did--that was the fire of hell you seen,
ready to resave you; an' the noise you hard was the voices of the devils
that wor comin' for your sowl--ay, an' the voices of the two wives you
murdhered--take care then, or I'll send you sooner to hell than you
dhrame of."
The scowl which she had in return for this threat was beyond all
description.
"Oh, I have done wid you," he replied; "you're not right, I say--but
never mind, I'll put a pin in M'Mahon's collar for this--ay will I.
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