“Yes, sir.”

“I, myself, hate that man!”

“Then we can assist each other.”

“Yes—­yes.”

“We can make it nice, and good, and fine,” says Mr. Jinks, smacking his lips over the rum, as if he was imbibing liquid vengeance, and was pleased with the flavor.

“No!” cries Ralph again.

“Yes!” says Mr. Jinks.

“Revenge, nice and good?”

“Supreme!”

“How?”

“Listen!”

“Stop a moment, my dear fellow,” said Ralph; “don’t be hasty.”

And, rising, Ralph went to the door, opened it, and looked out cautiously, after which, he closed it, and turned the key in the lock; then he went to the fire-place, and looked up the chimney with a solemn air of precaution, which was very striking.  Then he returned and took his seat, and with various gurglings of a mysterious nature in his throat, said: 

“You have a communication to make, Jinks?”

“I have, sir.”

“In relation to revenge.”

“Yes.”

“Then go on, old fellow; the time is propitious—­I am listening.”

And Ralph looked attentively at Mr. Jinks.

CHAPTER LIII.

PROJECTS OF REVENGE, INVOLVING HISTORICAL DETAILS.

The companions looked at each other and shook their heads; Mr. Jinks threateningly, Ralph doubtfully.  That gentleman seemed to be dubious of his friend’s ability to prepare a revenge suitable to the deserts of O’Brallaghan, who had sold his favorite coat.

Mr. Jinks, however, looked like a man certain of victory.

“Revenge, sir,” said Mr. Jinks, “is of two descriptions.  There is the straight-forward, simple, vulgar hitting at a man, or caning him; and the quiet, artistic arrangement of a drama, which comes out right, sir, without fuss, or other exterior effusion.”

And after this masterly distinction, Mr. Jinks raised his head, and regarded Ralph with pride and complacency.

“Yes” said the young man; “what you say is very true, my boy; go on—­go on.”

“Genius is shown, sir, in the manner of doing it—­”

“Yes.”

“Of working on the materials around you.”

“True; that is the test of genius; you are right.  Now explain your idea.”

“Well, sir,” said Mr. Jinks, “that is easy.  In this town, wherein we reside—­I refer to Winchester—­there are two prominent classes, besides the English-Virginia people.”

“Are there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me—­you mean—­”

“The natives of the Emerald Isle, and those from the land of sour krout,” said Mr. Jinks, with elegant paraphrase.

“You mean Dutch and Irish?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well; I understand that.  Let me repeat:  in the town of
Winchester there are two classes, besides the natives—­Dutch and
Irish.  Is that right?  I never was very quick.”