"You are talking of things which you don't hunderstand, and about people you don't know," said Aby. "You've had a drop too much on the road too, and you 'ad better go to bed."
Old Mollett turned round to strike at his son; but even in his present state he was somewhat quelled by Aby's eye. Aby was keenly alive to the necessity for prudence on his father's part, though he was by no means able to be prudent himself.
"Talking of things which I don't understand, am I?" said the old man. "That's all you know about it. Give me another glass of that brandy toddy, my dear."
But Aby's look had quelled, or at any rate silenced him; and though he did advance another stage in tipsiness before they succeeded in getting him off to bed, he said no more about Sir Thomas Fitzgerald or his Castle Richmond secrets.
Nevertheless, he had said enough to cause suspicion. One would not have imagined, on looking at Mr. O'Dwyer, that he was a very crafty person, or one of whose finesse in affairs of the world it would be necessary to stand much in awe. He seemed to be thick, and stolid, and incapable of deep inquiry; but, nevertheless, he was as fond of his neighbours' affairs as another, and knew as much about the affairs of his neighbours at Kanturk as any man in the county Cork.
He himself was a Kanturk man, and his wife had been a Kanturk woman; no less a person, indeed, than the sister of Father Bernard M'Carthy, rest her soul;—for it was now at peace, let us all hope. She had been dead these ten years; but he did not the less keep up his connection with the old town, or with his brother-in-law the priest, or with the affairs of the persons there adjacent; especially, we may say, those of his landlord, Sir Thomas Fitzgerald, under whom he still held a small farm, in conjunction with his brother Mick, the publican at Kanturk.
"What's all that about Sir Thomas?" said he to his daughter in a low voice as soon as the Molletts had left the bar.
"Well, I don't just know," said Fanny. She was a good daughter, and loved her father, whose indoor affairs she kept tight enough for him. But she had hardly made up her mind as yet whether or no it would suit her to be Mrs. Abraham Mollett. Should such be her destiny, it might be as well for her not to talk about her husband's matters.
"Is it true that the old man did see Sir Thomas to-day?"
"You heard what passed, father; but I suppose it is true."