The individuals before and around him were all strangers, from distant parts of the country; for whenever an outrage is to be committed, or a nocturnal drilling to take place, the peasantry start across the country, in twos and threes, until they quietly reach some lonely and remote spot, where their persons are not known.
No sooner had he mentioned his name, however, than there arose a peculiar murmur among the insurgents--such a murmur indeed as it was difficult to understand; there was also a rapid consultation in Irish, which was closed by a general determination to restrain their vengeance for that night, at least, and for the sake of the celebrated young martyr--for as such they looked upon him--to allow the military to pass on without injury.

Reilly then addressed them in Irish, and thanked them, both in his own name and that of the priest, for the respect evinced by, their observation of the advice they had given them.

The priest also addressed them in Irish, aware, as he was, that one sentence in that language, especially from a person in a superior rank of life, carries more weight than a whole oration in the language of the Sassenagh.

The poor old man's mind was once more at ease, and after these rough, but not intractable, men had given three cheers for "bould Willy Reilly," three more for the _Cooleen Bawn_, not forgetting the priest, the latter, while returning thanks, had them in convulsions of laughter.

"May I never do harm," proceeded his reverence humorously, "but the first Christian duty that every true Catholic ought to learn is to whistle on his fingers.