There was something, consequently, determined and utterly reckless in their faces, which denoted them to be men who had set at defiance both the world and its laws.

They all wore the _truis_, the brogue, and beneath the cloaks which covered them were concealed the celebrated Irish skean or mid-dogue, so that at the first glance they presented the appearance of men who were in a peaceful garb and unarmed.
The persons of some of them were powerful and admirably symmetrical, as could be guessed from their well-defined outlines.

They arranged themselves in a kind of circle around Shawn-na-Middogue, who stood in the centre as their chief and leader.

A spectator, however, could not avoid observing that, owing to the peculiarity of their costume, which, in consequence of their exclusion from society, not to mention the poverty and hardship which they were obliged to suffer, their appearance as a body was wild and almost savage.

In their countenances was blended a twofold expression, composed of ferocity and despair.