me, come! I'll bridle the infernal beast," said the youth, losing
all patience with both of us, and he sprung forward into the stable; but
barely had he time to jump back, as the animal let fly with both hind
legs together. Andy, well aware of what was coming, pulled us both back
and shut to the door, against which the hoofs kept up one rattling din
of kicks that shook the crazy edifice from roof to ground.

"Ye see what comes of startlin' her; the crayture's timid as a
kid," said Andy, whose blanched cheek badly corroborated his assumed
composure. "Ye may do what ye plaze, barrin' putting a bridle on her;
she never took kindly to that!"

"But do ye intend me to ride her without one?" said the youth.

"By no manner of means, sir," said Andy, with a plausible slowness on
each word that gave him time to think of an expedient. "I would n't be
guilty of the like; none that knows me would ever say it to me: I 'm a
poor man--"

"You're a devilish tiresome one," broke in the youth, suddenly; "here we
have been above half an hour standing at the door, and none the nearer
our departure than when we arrived."

"Christy Moore could bridle her, if he was here," said Andy; "but he's
gone to Moate, and won't be back till evening; may be that would do?"

A very impatient, and not very pious exclamation consigned Christy to an
untimely fate. "Well, don't be angry, anyhow, sir," said Andy; "there's
many a thing a body might think of, if they were n't startled. See, now,
I have a way this minute; an elegant fine way, too."

"Well, what is it? Confound your long-winded speeches!"

"There, now, you're angry again! sure it's enough to give one quite a
through-otherness, and not leave them time to reflect."

"Your plan, your plan!" said the young man, his lips trembling with
anger and impatience.

"Here it is, then; let the 'gossoon,'" meaning me, "get up on the roof
and take off two or three of the scraws, the sods of grass, till he can
get through, and then steal down on the mare's back; when he 's once on
her, she 'll never stir head nor foot, and he can slip the bridle over
hef quite asy."

"The boy might be killed; no, no, I 'll not suffer that--"

"Wait, sir," cried I, interrupting, "it's not so hard, after all; once on
her back, I defy her to throw me."

"Sure I know that well; sorra better rider in the Meath hunt than little
Con," broke in Andy; backing me with a ready flattery he thought would
deceive me.

It was no