"I believe so, sir."
"Why do you call him captain?"
"Because, sir, he was a captain."
"Captain of what?"
"Of robbers, sir."
"From whom did they steal?"
"From every one, sir, gentle and simple."
"What would they steal?"
"A horse, a cow, a sheep, or anything at all!"
"I'll engage they never ventured to steal from the Big Joyces."
"Then they did, sir. The captain stole a horse from my grand-uncle; and by the same token, it was soon after that he took the leap, or rather his mare Burnish took it, with the captain and his lieutenant, Red Dan Nowlan, on her back."
"He was pursued by your grand-uncle?"
"He was, sir, and the whole family."
"And were they both riding the same horse?"
"No, sir; Red Dan was running by the captain's side till they came to the 'Leap,' when the captain told him to jump up behind, when he gave the mare a dig of the spurs, and she went over flying."
"And he escaped?"
"He did, sir; and I heard my grand-uncle say he was glad of it, for if he caught him he would have murdered him."
"But how is it, as you say he lived in a slate house in Cong, that he was never taken up?"
"Well, sir, you see he was a great favourite with the gintry."
"Then I conclude he did not rob them?"
"Oh, he did, sir. Oh, blood-a-line, to give him his due, he'd as soon or sooner steal from a rich man than from a poor man; but he was a gintleman, like one of themselves, so they were not hard upon him."
"Did they associate with him ?"
"Associate with him?—what's that?"
"Did they keep company with him, or ask him to their houses?"
"They did, and came to his house."
"Nonsense."
"The devil a word of lie in it, and that reminds me of telling you how he served two or three gentlemen that came to dine and spend the day with him, uninvited."
"How was that?"
"He was short of provisions and wine, and was ashamed to acknowledge it, so he told his friends they must amuse themselves as well as they could till dinner-time. 'There's my boat,' said he, 'if you would like to go on the lake, fishing. I have a little business that will keep me till dark.'
"'What's the little business, Mac,' said one of the gentlemen, winking.
"'It's no matter,' said the captain.
"Where do you think he went, sir?"
"I could not imagine."
"To rob the gentleman's house that asked him where he was going."
"And did he rob it?"
"He did, and brought back lashings of provisions and wine."
"Was it ever found out?"
"It was. He confessed it himself. 'Where did you get this port? 'said the gentleman that he robbed. 'I have a few dozen bottles very like this, though I think my wine is better,' said the gentleman."
"'You have not a bottle of port like that in your cellar,' said Mac Namara, who knew he had carried off the whole of them.
"'I bet you a guinea I have,' said the gentleman.
"'I bet you five you have not,' said Mac.
"'Done,' said the gentleman.
"Well, sir, the next day, when they went to look, they found the wine gone, and suspected how it was."
"Well, what happened?" I inquired.
"They were never the worse friends. I think I heard say that Mac let the five guineas go against the wine."
"What became of Captain Mac Namara in the end? Was he hanged?"
"Hanged? not at all, sir. What would they hang him for? He died a natural death, and is buried in the Abbey of Cong. But I forgot to tell you about his mare Binnish."
"What happened to her?"
"When she died he waked her like any Christian."
Why, this Irish Mac Namara and his mare were as great as the English Dick Turpin and his horse.
"We had another like him, sir, but he was a murthering villain."
"Who was he?"
"Captain Webb."
"What did he do?"
"He used to ill-use young women, and then strip them and throw them into the 'Murthuring Hole,' which is not far from here."
"Come, now, Master Joyce, you must not be asking me to believe too much, or you may weaken my faith in Mac Namara and his famous mare."
"The devil a lie in what I'm going to tell you, sir."
"Well, go on."
"Well, sir, this Captain Webb one day met a fine handsome girl, beautifully dressed, with