Joined with these was the clamour of the town curs and the
thunder of the following rush of town boys along Cluhir's narrow
pavements. Larry ran to the window, and opening it, found himself
practically face to face with young Georgy Talbot-Lowry, riding a
horse of Bill Kirby's.
The sight of the hounds drove from his mind the resolve to have no
dealings more with the house of Talbot-Lowry.
"Hullo, Georgy!" he shouted: "I didn't know you were home--"
Georgy gave a quick look at the window, and directed his gaze between
his horse's ears; save that his face had turned as red as his coat,
there was nothing, as he jogged on, to indicate that he had either
seen or heard.
Larry banged down the window, in a state of conflagration, every
strained nerve vibrating. What need to attempt to recount what he said
or thought? Dark Rosaleen has made trouble often enough between nearer
and dearer than Larry and his young cousin. She will send brothers to
fight each other to the changing music of her harp, crowned and
uncrowned; she will gather her sons under the sign of the Cross, and
encourage them to hate one another for the love of God. This was only
a trivial bit of mischief hardly worthy of our attention, were it not
that it had its share in the macadamising of that jungle road in
which, as is frequent in such routes, the preliminary labour had been
undertaken by an elephant, under the direction of a skilful mahout.
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