The news of the attack on Lord Scatterbrain ran over the country like wildfire, and his conduct throughout the affair raised his character wonderfully in the opinion of all classes. Many who had hitherto held aloof from the mushroom lord, came forward to recognise the manly fellow, and cards were left at “the big house,” which were never seen there before. The magistrates were active in the affair, and a reward was immediately offered for the apprehension of the offenders; but before any active steps could be taken by the authorities, Andy, immediately after the attack, collected a few stout fellows himself, and knowing where the den of Shan and his miscreants lay, he set off at the head of his party to try if he could not secure them himself; but before he did this, he despatched a vehicle to the farmhouse, where poor Nance lay wounded, with orders that she should be removed to his own house, the doctor having said that the transit would not be injurious.

A short time served to bring Andy and his followers to the private still, where a little looking about enabled them to discover the entrance, which was covered by some large stones, and a bunch of furze placed as a mask to the opening. It was clear that it was impossible for any persons inside to have thus covered the entrance, and it suggested the possibility that some of its usual inmates were then absent. Nevertheless, having such desperate characters to deal with, it was a service of danger to be leader in the descent to the cavern when the opening was cleared; but Andy was the first to enter, which he did boldly, only desiring his attendants to follow him quickly, and give him support in case of resistance. A lantern had been provided, Andy knowing the darkness of the den; and the party was thereby enabled to explore with celerity and certainty the hidden haunt of the desperadoes. The ashes of the fire were yet warm, but no one was to be seen, till Andy, drawing the screen of the bed, discovered a man lying in a seemingly helpless state, breathing with difficulty, and the straw about him dabbled with blood. On attempting to lift him, the wretch groaned heavily and muttered, “D—n you, let me alone—you've done for me—I'm dying.”

The man was gently carried from the cave to the open air, which seemed slightly to revive him. His eyes opened heavily, but closed again; yet still he breathed. His wounds were staunched as well as the limited means and knowledge of the parties present allowed; and the ladder, drawn up from the cave and overlaid with tufts of heather, served to bear the sufferer to the nearest house, whence Andy ordered a mounted messenger to hurry for a doctor. The man seemed to hear what was going forward, for he faintly muttered, “the priest—the priest.”

Andy, anxious to procure this most essential comfort to the dying man, went himself in search of Father Blake, whom he found at home, and who suggested that a magistrate might be also useful upon the occasion; and as Merryvale lay not much out of the way, Andy made a detour to obtain the presence of Squire Egan, while Father Blake pushed directly onward upon his ghostly mission.

Andy and the Squire arrived soon after the priest had administered spiritual comfort to the sufferer, who still retained sufficient strength to make his depositions before the Squire, the purport of which turned out to be of the utmost importance to Andy.

This man, it appeared, was the husband of Bridget, who had returned from transportation, and sought his wife and her dear brother, and his former lawless associates, on reaching Ireland. On finding Bridget had married again, his anger at her infidelity was endeavoured to be appeased by the representations made to him that it was a “good job,” inasmuch as “the lord” had been screwed out of a good sum of money by way of separate maintenance, and that he would share the advantage of that. When matters were more explained, however, and the convict found this money was divided among so many, who all claimed right of share in the plunder, his discontent returned. In the first place, the pettifogger made a large haul for his services. Shan More swore it was hard if a woman's own brother was not to be the better for her luck; and Larry Hogan claimed hush-money, for he could prove Bridget's marriage, and so upset their scheme of plunder. The convict maintained his claim as husband was stronger than any; but this, all the others declared, was an outlandish notion he brought back with him from foreign parts, and did not prevail in their code of laws by any manner o' means, and even went so far as to say they thought it hard, after they had “done the job,” that he was to come in and lessen their profit, which he would, as they were willing to give an even share of the spoil; and after that, he must be the most discontented villain in the world if he was not pleased.

The convict feigned contentment, but meditated at once revenge against his wife and the gang, and separate profit for himself. He thought he might stipulate for a good round sum from Lord Scatterbrain, as he could prove him free of his supposed matrimonial engagement, and inwardly resolved he would soon pay a visit to his lordship. But his intentions were suspected by the gang, and a strict watch kept upon him; and though his dissimulation and contrivance were of no inferior order, Larry Hogan was his overmatch, and the convict was detected in having been so near Lord Scatterbrain's dwelling, that they feared their secret, if not already revealed, was no longer to be trusted to their new confederate's keeping; and it was deemed advisable to knock him on the head, and shoot my lord, which they thought would prevent all chance of the invalidity of the marriage being discovered, and secure the future payment of the maintenance.

How promptly the murderous determination was acted upon, the preceding events prove. Andy's courage in the first part of the affair saved his life; his promptness in afterwards seeking to secure the offenders led to the important discovery he had just made; and as the convict's depositions could be satisfactorily backed by proofs which he showed the means of obtaining, Andy was congratulated heartily by the Squire and Father Blake, and rode home in almost delirious delight at the prospect of making Oonah his wife. On reaching the stables, he threw himself from his saddle, let the horse make his own way to his stall, dashed through the back hall, and nearly broke his neck in tumbling up-stairs, burst open the drawing-room door, and made a rush upon Oonah, whom he hugged and kissed most outrageously, amidst exclamations of the wildest affection.

Oonah, half strangled and struggling for breath, at last freed herself from his embraces, and asked him, angrily, what he was about—in which inquiry she was backed by his mother.

Andy answered by capering round the room, shouting, “Hurroo! I'm not married at all—hurroo!” He turned over the chairs, upset the tables, threw the mantelpiece ornaments into the fire, seized the poker and tongs, and banged them together as he continued dancing and shouting.

Oonah and his mother stood gazing at his antics in trembling amazement, till at last the old woman exclaimed, “Holy Vargin! he's gone mad!” whereupon she and her niece set up a violent screaming, which called Andy back to his propriety, and, as well as his excitement would permit, he told them the cause of his extravagant joy. His wonder and delight were shared by his mother and the blushing Oonah, who did not struggle so hard in Andy's embrace on his making a second vehement demonstration of his love for her.

“Let me send for Father Blake, my jewel,” said Andy, “and I'll marry you at once.”

His mother reminded him he must first have his present marriage proved invalid. Andy uttered several pieces of original eloquence on “the law's delay.”

“Well, anyhow,” said he, “I'll drink your health, my darling girl, this day, as Lady Scatterbrain—for you must consider yourself as sitch.”

“Behave yourself, my lord,” said Oonah, archly.

“Bother!” cried Andy, snatching another kiss.

“Hillo!” cried Dick Dawson, entering at the moment, and seeing the romping-match. “You're losing no time, I see, Andy.”

Oonah was running from the room, laughing and blushing, when Dick interposed, and cried, “Ah, don't go, 'my lady,' that is to be.”

Oonah slapped down the hand that barred her progress, exclaiming, “You're just as bad as he is, Mister Dawson!” and ran away.

Dick had ridden over, on hearing the news, to congratulate Andy, and consented to remain and dine with him. Oonah had rather, after what had taken place, he had not been there, for Dick backed Andy in his tormenting the girl and joined heartily in drinking to Andy's toast, which, according to promise, he gave to the health of the future Lady Scatterbrain.

It was impossible to repress Andy's wild delight; and in the excitement of the hour he tossed off bumper after bumper to all sorts of love-making toasts, till he was quite overcome by his potations, and fit for no place but bed. To this last retreat of “the glorious” he was requested to retire, and, after much coaxing, consented. He staggered over to the window-curtain, which he mistook for that of the bed; in vain they wanted to lead him elsewhere—he would sleep in no other bed but that—and, backing out at the window-pane, he made a smash, of which he seemed sensible, for he said it wasn't a fair trick to put pins in the bed. “I know it was Oonah did that!—hip!—ha! ha! Lady Scatterbrain!—never mind—hip!—I'll have my revenge on you yet!”

They could not get him up-stairs, so his mother suggested he should sleep in her room, which was on the same floor, for that night, and at last he was got into the apartment. There he was assisted to disrobe, as he stood swaying about at a dressing-table. Chancing to lay his hands on a pill-box, he mistook it for his watch.

“Stop—stop!” he stammered forth—“I must wind my watch;” and, suiting the action to the word, he began twisting about the pill-box, the lid of which came off and the pills fell about the floor. “Oh, murder!” said Lord Scatterbrain, “the works of my watch are fallin' about the flure—pick them up—pick them up—pick them up—” He could speak no more, and becoming quite incapable of all voluntary action, was undressed and put to bed, the last sound which escaped him being a faint muttering—“pick them up.”