little and shapeless body, his long Irish cloak, and the dilapidated
bagpipes hanging from his shoulders, and the rough-haired garron
under him, to be seen distinctly in the grey dusk. So soon as he had
come within earshot, he began crying: 'Is it sleeping you are, Tumaus
Costello, when better men break their hearts on the great white
roads? Get up out of that, proud Tumaus, for I have news! Get up out
of that, you great omadhaun! Shake yourself out of the earth, you
great weed of a man!'

Costello had risen to his feet, and as the piper came up to him
seized him by the neck of his jacket, and lifting him out of his
saddle threw him on to the ground.

'Let me alone, let me alone,' said the other, but Costello still
shook him.

'I have news from Dermott's daughter, Winny,' The great fingers were
loosened, and the piper rose gasping.

'Why did you not tell me,' said Costello, that you came from her? You
might have railed your fill.'

'I have come from her, but I will not speak unless I am paid for my
shaking.'

Costello fumbled at the bag in which he carried his money, and it was
some time before it would open, for the hand that had overcome many
men shook with fear and hope. 'Here is all the money in my bag,' he
said, dropping a stream of French and Spanish money into the hand of
the piper, who bit the coins before he would answer.