The Collegians | Page 6

foremost being too busy in talking, laughing, and shouting, to
pay any attention to objects, not directly in their way. But they were no
sooner espied than the wags assailed them with that species of wit,
which distinguishes the inhabitants of the back lanes of a city, and
forms the terror of all country visitors. These expressions were lavished
upon the rope-maker and his daughter, until the former, who was as
irritable an old fellow as Irishmen generally are, was almost put out of
patience.
At length, a young man observing the lamp shine for a moment on
Eily's handsome face, made a chirp with his lips as he passed by, as if
he had a mind to kiss her. Not Papirius himself, when vindicating his
senatorial dignity against the insulting Gaul, could be more prompt in
action than Mihil O'Connor. The young gentleman received in return
for his affectionate greeting a blow over the temple which was worth
five hundred kisses. An uproar immediately commenced, which was
likely to end in some serious injury to the old man and his daughter. A

number of ferocious faces gathered round them uttering sounds of
harsh rancour and defiance; which Mihil met with equal loudness and
energy. Indeed all that seemed to delay his fate and hinder him from
sharing in the prostration of his victim was the conduct of Eily, who
flinging herself in bare armed beauty before her father defended him
for a time against the upraised weapons of his assailants. No one would
incur the danger of harming, by an accidental blow, a creature so young,
so beautiful, and so affectionate.
They were at length rescued from this precarious condition by the
interposition of two young men in the dress of boatmen who appeared
to possess some influence with the crowd, and who used it for the
advantage of the sufferers. Not satisfied with having brought them
safely out of all immediate danger, the taller of the two conducted them
to their door, saying little on the way and taking his leave as soon as
they were once in perfect safety. All that Mihil could learn from his
appearance was, that he was a gentleman, and very young-perhaps not
more than nineteen years of age. The old man talked much and loudly
in praise of his gallantry, but Eily was altogether silent on the subject.
A few days after, Mihil O'Connor was at work upon the ropewalk,
going slowly backward in the sunshine, with a bundle of hemp between
his knees, and singing "Maureen Thierna."* A hunch- backed little
fellow in a boatman's dress, came up, and saluting him in a sharp city
brogue, reminded the old rope-maker that he had done him a service a
few evenings before. Mihil professed his acknowledgements, and with
true Irish warmth of heart, assured the little boatman that all he had in
the world was at his service. The hunch-back however only wanted a
few ropes and blocks for his boat and even for those he was resolute in
paying honourably. Neither did he seem anxious to satisfy the curiosity
of old Mihil with respect to the name and quality of his companion; for
he was inexorable in maintaining that he was a turf boatman from
Scagh who had come up to town with him to dispose of a cargo of fuel
at Charlotte's Quay. Mihil O'Connor referred him to his daughter for
the ropes, about which he said she could bargain as well as himself, and
he was unable to leave his work until the rope he had in hand should be
finished. The little deformed, no way displeased at this intelligence,

went to find Eily at the shop, where he spent a longer time than Mihil
thought necessary for his purpose.
From this time forward the character of Eily O'Connor seemed to have
undergone a second change. Her former gravity returned, but it did not
re-appear under the same circumstances as before. In her days of
religious retirement, it appeared only in her dress, and in her choice of
amusements. Now, both her recreations and her attire were much gayer
than ever, so much so as almost to approach a degree of dissipation, but
her cheerfulness of mind was gone, and the sadness which had settled
on her heart, like a black reef under sunny waters, was plainly visible
through all her gaiety. Her father was too much occupied in his eternal
rope-twisting to take particular notice of this change, and, besides, it is
notorious that one's constant companions are the last to observe any
alteration in one's manner or appearance.
One morning, when Mihil O'Connor left his room, he was surprized to
find that the breakfast table was not laid as usual, and that his daughter
was not in the house.