“Ay, ould Sir Edward—­a good man; but he had a woman to his wife, and if ever there was a divil—­Lord bless us!—­in any woman, there was one, and a choice bad one, too, in her.  The present barrownight, Sir Thomas, is as like her as if she had spat him out of her mouth.  The poor ould man, Sir Edward, had no rest night or day, because he wouldn’t get himself made into a lord, or a peer, or some high-flown title of the kind; and all that she herself might rank as a nobleman’s lady, although she was a ‘lady,’ by title, as it was, which, God knows, was more than she desarved, the thief.”

“Ah, she was different from Beck, Dunphy.  Talking of wives, have I not a right to feel thankful that God in his goodness gifted me with such a blessing?  You don’t know what I owe to her, Dunphy.  When I was sick and wounded—­I bear the marks of fifteen severe wounds upon me—­when I was in fever, in ague, in jaundice, and several other complaints belonging to the different countries we were in, there she was—­there she was, Dunphy; but enough said; ay, and in the field of battle, too,” he added, immediately forgetting himself, “lying like a log, my tongue black and burning.  Oh, yes, Beck’s a great creature; that’s all, now—­that’s all.  Come in to breakfast, and now you shall know what a fresh egg means, for we have lots of poultry.”

“Many thanks to you, Mr. Roberts, I and my ould woman know that.”

“Tut—­nonsense, man; lots of poultry, I say—­always a pig or two, and never without a ham or a flitch, you old dog.  Except the welfare of that boy, we have nothing on earth, thank God, to trouble us; but that’s natural—­it’s all the heart of man, Dunphy”

After having made a luxurious breakfast, Dunphy, who felt that he could not readily remain away from his little shop, bade this most affectionate and worthy couple good-by and proceeded on his way home.

This hesitating old man felt anything but comfortable since the partial confidence he had placed in old Sam.  It is true, he stated the purport of his disclosure to him as a contingency that might or might not happen; thus, as he imagined, keeping himself on the safe side.  But in the meantime, he felt anxious, apprehensive and alarmed, even at the lengths to which his superstitious fears had driven him; for he felt now that one class of terrors had only superinduced another, without destroying the first.  But so must it ever be with those timid and pusillanimous villains who strive to impose upon their consciences, and hesitate between right and wrong.

On his way home, however, he determined to visit the barracks in which the thirty-third regiment lay, in order, if possible, to get a furtive glance at the young ensign.  In this he was successful.  On entering the barrack, square, he saw a group of officers chatting together on the north side, and after inquiring from a soldier if Ensign Roberts was among them, he was answered in the affirmative.