. I
gave my word to Dinah Shadd yesterday, an', more blame to me, I was
wid you last night talkin' nonsinse but nothin' more. You've chosen to
thry to hould me on ut. I will not be held thereby for anythin' in the
world. Is that enough?"

'Judy wint pink all over. "An' I wish you joy av the perjury," sez
she, duckin' a curtsey. "You've lost a woman that would ha' wore her
hand to the bone for your pleasure; an' 'deed, Terence, ye were not
thrapped...." Lascelles must ha' spoken plain to her. "I am such as
Dinah is--'deed I am! Ye've lost a fool av a girl that'll niver look
at you again, and ye've lost what ye niver had--your common honesty.
If you manage your men as you manage your love makin', small wondher
they call you the worst corp'ril in the comp'ny. Come away, mother,"
sez she.

'But divil a fut would the ould woman budge! "D'you hould by that?"
sez she, peerin' up under her thick gray eyebrows.

'"Ay, an' wud," sez I, "tho' Dinah gave me the go twinty times. I'll
have no thruck with you or yours," sez I. "Take your child away, ye
shameless woman."

'"An' am I shameless?" sez she, bringin' her hands up above her head.
"Thin what are you, ye lyin', schamin', weak-kneed, dhirty-souled son
av a sutler? Am _I_ shameless? Who put the open shame on me an' my
child that we shud go beggin' through the lines in the broad daylight
for the broken word of a man? Double portion of my shame be on you,
Terence Mulvaney, that think yourself so strong! By Mary and the
saints, by blood and water an' by ivry sorrow that came into the world
since the beginnin', the black blight fall on you and yours, so that
you may niver be free from pain for another when ut's not your own!
May your heart bleed in your breast drop by drop wid all your friends
laughin' at the bleedin'! Strong you think yourself? May your strength
be a curse to you to dhrive you into the divil's hands against your
own will! Clear-eyed you are? May your eyes see clear evry step av the
dark path you take till the hot cindhers av hell put thim out! May
the ragin' dry thirst in my own ould bones go to you that you shall
niver pass bottle full nor glass empty. God preserve the light av your
onderstandin' to you, my jewel av a bhoy, that ye may niver forget
what you mint to be an' do, whin you're wallowin' in the muck! May ye
see the betther and follow the worse as long as there's breath in your
body; an' may ye die quick in a strange land, watchin' your death
before