"Now, Squire Folliard," exclaimed the Rapparee, "see what it is not to
trust an honest man; had you done so, not a hair of your head would
be injured. As it is, I'll give you five minutes to do three things;
remember my uncle, the priest, that you transported."

"He acted most illegally, sir," replied the old man indignantly; "and,
in my opinion, I say that, in consequence of his conduct, the country
had a good riddance of him. I only wish I could send you after him;
perhaps I shall do so yet. I believe in Providence, sirra, and that God
can protect me from your violence even here."

"In the next place," proceeded the Rapparee, "think of your daughter,
that you will never see again, either in this world or the next."

"I know I am unworthy of having such an angel," replied the old man,
"but unless you were a cruel and a heartless ruffian, you would not
at this moment mention her, or bring the thoughts of her to my
recollection."

"In the last place," continued the other, "if you have any thing to say
in the shape of a prayer, say it, for in five minutes' time there will
be a bullet through your heart, and in five more you will be snug and
warm at the bottom of the loch there below--that's your doom."

"O'Donnel," said Andy, "think that there's a God above you. Surely
you wouldn't murdher this ould man and make the sowl within your body
redder--if the thing's possible--than the head that's on the top of
it, though in throth I don't think it's by way of ornament it's there
either. Come, come, Randal, my man, this is all _feastalagh_ (nonsense).