” Courtlaw suddenly interposed. ‘Or do I arrest you and have these soldiers march you off to gaol?’ A sweep of his arm indicated the array of military strength on the benches, every eye of which was trained on the little scene being enacted before them. It gave her joy to see them laughing, even though she was unsure of what she had done wrong. "Is she dead?" "No—no," answered Hogarth. I saw them both. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. Her mind jumped with questions as fear raced through her and hardened into a bid for retaliation. This is a mere boy. "Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause.
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