“My uncle,” said Clinton, prefers it to any other spirits; indeed, at home he never drinks any other, and whenever he dines, thanks those who give it the preference.”

“Come in, and let us have a glass of poteen grog, in the mean time,” said Hycy, “for it’s better still in grog than in punch.  It’s a famous relish for a slice of ham; but, as the Scotch say, baith’s best.”

Having discussed the grog and ham, the conversation went on.

“Hycy,” proceeded his companion, “with respect to that foolish arrangement or bargain we made the other night, I won’t have anything to say or do in it.  You shall impoverish or ruin no honest man on my account.  I was half drunk or whole drunk, otherwise I wouldn’t have listened to such a proposal.”

“What do you mean?” said Hycy, with a look of very natural surprise, and a pause of some time, “I don’t understand you.”

“Don’t you remember the foolish kind of stipulation we entered into with reference to M’Mahon’s farm, of Ahadarra, on the one hand, and my most amiable (d—­n me but I ought to be horsewhipped for it) sister on the other?”

“No,” replied Hycy, “devil a syllable.  My word and honor, Harry.”

“Well, if you don’t, then, it’s all right.  You didn’t appear to be tipsy, though.”

“I never do, Harry.  In that respect I’m the d—­dest, hypocritical rascal in Europe.  I’m a perfect phenomenon; for, in proportion as I get drunk in intellect, I get sober both in my carriage and appearance.  However, in Heaven’s name let me know the bargain if there was one?”

“No, no,” replied his friend, “it was a disgraceful affair on both sides, and the less that’s said of it the better.”

By some good deal of persuasion, however, and an additional glass of grog, he prevailed on Clinton to repeat the substance of the stipulation; on hearing which, as if for the first time, he laughed very heartily.

“This liquor,” he proceeded, “is a strange compound, and puts queer notions into our head.  Why if there’s an honest decent fellow in Europe, whom I would feel anxious to serve beyond another, next to yourself, Harry, it is Bryan M’Mahon.  But why I should have spoken so, I can’t understand at all.  In the first place, what means have of injuring the man?  And what is stronger still, what inclination have I, or could have—­and what is still better—­should have?”

“I do assure you it did not raise you in my opinion.”

“Faith, no wonder, Harry, and I am only surprised you didn’t speak to me sooner about it.  Still,” he proceeded, smiling, ’there is one portion of it I should not wish to see cancelled—­I mean your advocacy with Miss Clinton.”

“To be plain with you, Hycy, I wash my hands out of that affair too; I won’t promise advocacy.”

“Well neutrality?”

“The truth is, neither neutrality nor advocacy would avail a rush.  I have reason to think that my sister’s objections against you are insuperable.”