"I cannot see what he has ever done to cause such gossip about the brave young hero; I certainly admire him very much, and shall stand by him until I learn of acts by him that are unmanly," exclaimed the general.
Pat O 'Conner has such long ears that he was overhearing this little conversation, and he at once said:
"Me lady, that divil of a dacon is a puttin' mischafe unto yer father's head; but I'll shtop him strate, if ye want me to do it."
"I do, Pat, if you can do so in a judicious and effectual manner," ejaculated Miss Armington.
"Bedad, lave that to me, an' I'll rattle his mutton fur the ould hypocret," said Pat.
Pat now hurried to the library, where the general and deacon were secretly conversing, and impatiently knocked at the door, whilst he almost simultaneously cried with a loud voice:
"Me honored good mashter, I was tould by a gintleman on the sthreet that ye were violantly callin' an' sarchin' fur me; here I bees, at yer sarvice."
General Armington told him to come in, when Pat rattled off a lot of Irish that might have done homage to a king, whilst he bowed profoundly to Deacon Hob Stew and said:
"May it plaze yer honor, if I say to ye, that the worth less paople are assaultin' the howly saints; I mane yer frinds, way down by Jabob's plantation, an' the Riverend Joe Pier and Miss Nancy Clover tould me to ax ye, should I see ye, to come home quickly, fur they belave a riot am abrakin' out."
"I'll hasten, general, if you'll excuse me," exclaimed the deacon, frightened lest Victor Juno was arousing the people to do great violence to the believers.
"Good mashter, I have somethin' to tell ye, if I tought ye would not tink me too bould," said Pat.
"Not at all, Pat, go on and tell me," replied the general, recklessly, with however more than ordinary anxiety.
