On his starting up, he
saw nothing but the smiling Norah pressing the arm of a tall peasant, and
curtseying him a challenge to join her "on the floor." He paused for a
moment, then gaily taking her hand, advanced with her to the centre. All
eyes were bent upon them, but there was no restraint in the young parson's
manner. The most popular jig-tune was called for--to it they went; his
early-taught and well-practised feet beat living echoes to the most rapid
bars. A foot of ground seemed ample space for all the intricate
compilation of the _raal_ Conamera "capers." The tune was changed again
and again; again and again was his infinity of steps adapted to its
varying sounds: to use a popular phrase, you might have heard a pin drop.
Every mouth was closed, every eye fixed upon his rapid feet; and, when at
length wearied with exertion, the almost fainting girl was falling to the
earth, her gallant partner caught her in his arms, and, like an infant,
bore her to the open air, one loud and general cheer burst from their
unclosed lips; a few moments restored the pretty lass to perfect health.
Her first words were, "Leave me, sir, and save yourself." It was too late;
borne on the shoulders of the admiring mob, who, despite his suit of
sables (now rendered innoxious by the varying colour of the crimson
kerchief the young bride bound round his neck), he was soon seated in the
chair of honour, and there, surrounded by his friends, finished the night
the "lion of the dance.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63