The dust flew from Patsy's breeches, while from his mouth proceeded vigorous objections to his present treatment.
"Now run, you divil, or I will repeat the dose," cried Moore, throwing the ruler at Micky's bare shins as that youthful conspirator sought safety in headlong flight with Willy before him and Patsy close at his heels. A moment later they appeared outside the window and retaliated with derisive gestures for their recent defeat until Moore ran towards the door as though about to give chase, when the lads, squealing with fright, fled across the fields, disappearing in the distant trees.
"How do you like teaching?" asked Bessie, mischievously, as Moore returned.
"Fine," he said. "Fine, and it's I that pays the fines, little limbs of Satan."
"Remember, you are speaking of my pupils, Mr. Moore," she said threateningly.
"All right," said Moore, "little limbs of Bessie Dyke!"
"I did n't mean it that way, my dear. Far be it from me to make such indelicate remarks intentionally."
"I am not so sure," said Bessie, suspiciously.
"I did n't think what I was saying, Bessie."
"Do you want me to be arrested?" demanded Moore. "I conceal my thoughts almost as often as you do, mavourneen."
"You can omit that 'Mavourneen,'" said Bessie, refusing to be so soon cajoled into good humor. "I 'm not to be blarneyed so easily."
"Oh," said Moore, "it's a terrible thing to be haunted by a girl's face."
"I should think so," responded Moore. "I can't work for thinking of one."
"You 'll get no more information on the subject from me. Do you know, Bessie, I have half made up my mind not to go back to Dublin at all?"
"To London," announced Moore, dramatically. "To London, Bessie, and once there I 'll take Dame Fortune by the throat and strangle the hussy till she gives me what I deserve."
"Ah," cried Bessie, "that would be splendid, Tom!"
"I 'd go to-morrow only I dare n't leave you, darlin', for fear you will be stolen from me in my absence."
"What do you mean?" asked Bessie, looking at him in surprise.
"As though you did not know, Bessie!" answered Moore, rising to his feet. "I mean this Sir Percival Lovelace, who is seen so often in your company of late. Lord Brooking's friend. Don't I know what he is after when I see a great gentleman like him, the odor of Court still in his ruffles, walking and talking with a pretty bit of a school-teacher like you?"