“It may, for all I know; but it’s more than I’ve seen yet.”

“An’ now between you and me, Charley—­whisper—­I say, isn’t it a thousand pities—­nobody could hear us, surely?”

“Nonsense—­who could hear us?”

“Well, isn’t it a thousand pities, Charley, avia, that dacent fellows, like you and me, should be as we are, an’ that mad ould villain havin’ his house full ’o money? eh, now?”

“It’s a hard case,” replied Hanlon, “but still we must put up with our lot.  His father I’m tould was as poor in the beginnin’ as either of us.”

“Ay, but it’s the son we’re spakin about—­the ould tyrannical villain that dhrives an’ harries the poor!  He has loads of money in the house, they say—­eh?”

“Divil a know myself knows, Rody:—­nor—­not makin’ you an ill answer—­divil a hair myself cares, Rody.  Let him have much, or let him have little, that’s your share an’ mine of it.”

“Charley, they say America’s a fine place; talkin’ about money—­wid a little money there, they say a man could do wondhers.”

“Who says that?”

“Why Donnel Dhu, for one; an’ he knows, for he was there.”

“I b’lieve that Donnel was many a place;—­over half the world, if all’s thrue.”

“Augh! the same Donnel’s a quare fellow—­a deep chap—­a cute follow; but, I know more about him than you think—­ay, do I.”

“Why, what do you know?”

“No matther—­a thing or two about the same Donnel; an’ by the same token, a betther fellow never lived—­an’ whisper—­you’re a strong favorite wid him, that I know, for we wor talkin’ about you.  In the meantime I wish to goodness we had a good scud o’ cash among us, an’ we safe an’ snug in America!  Now shake hands an’ good bye—­an’ mark me—­if you dhrame of America an’ a long purse any o’ these nights, come to me an’ I’ll riddle your dhrame for you.”

He then looked Hanlon significantly in the face, wrung his hand, and left him to meditate on the purport of their conversation.

The latter as he went out gazed at him with a good deal of surprise.

“So,” thought he, “you were feelin’ my pulse, were you?  I don’t think it’s hard to guess whereabouts you are; however I’ll think of your advice at any rate, an’ see what good may be in it.  But, in the name of all that’s wondherful, how does it come to pass that that red ruffian has sich authority over Sarah M’Gowan as to make her fetch me the very thing I want?—­that tobacco-box; an’ at sich a place, too, an’ sich an hour!  An’ yet he says that she doesn’t like a bone in his skin, which I b’lieve!  I’m fairly in the dark here; however time will make it all clear, I hope; an’ for that we must wait.”

He then resumed his employment.