"Ugh, ugh, ugh!" exclaimed a voice, the owner of which intended to send forth notes of joy; but so overcome was he by the intensity of his own feelings that he was in nowise able to moderate his voice either for joy or sorrow. "Ugh, ugh, ugh! Eh! Sir Herbert! but it's I that am proud to see yer honour this day,—wid yer ouwn name, wid yer ouwn name. Glory be to God; oh dear! oh dear! And I knew the Lord'd niver forgit us that way, and let the warld go intirely wrong like that. For av you weren't the masther, Sir Herbert, as you are, the Lord presarve you to us, divil a masther'd iver be able to hould a foot in Castle Richmond, and that's God's ouwn thruth."
"And that's thrue for you, Richard," said another, whom Herbert in the confusion could not recognize, though his voice was familiar to him. "'Deed and the boys had it all made out. But what matthers now Sir Herbert's back?"
"And God bless the day and the hour that he came to us!" And then leaving his master's arm and coat to which he had still stuck, he began to busy himself loudly about the travelling gear. "Coachman, where's Sir Herbert's portmantel? Yes; that's Sir Herbert's hat-box. 'Deed, an' I ought to know it well. And the black bag; yes, that'll be Sir Herbert's, to be sure," and so on.
Nor was this all. The name seemed to run like wildfire through all the Buttevantians there assembled; and no sound seemed to reach our hero's name but that of Sir Herbert, Sir Herbert. Everybody took hold of him, and kissed his hand, and pulled his skirts, and stroked his face. His hat was knocked off, and put on again amid thousands of blessings. It was nearly dark, and his eyes were dazed by the coach lanterns which were carried about, so that he could hardly see his friends; but the one sound which was dinned into his ears was that of Sir Herbert, Sir Herbert.
Had he thought about it when starting from Dublin early that morning he would have said that it would have killed him to have heard himself so greeted in the public street, but as it was he found that he got over it very easily. Before he was well seated on his car it may be questioned whether he was not so used to his name, that he would have been startled to hear himself designated as Mr. Fitzgerald. For half a minute he had been wretched, and had felt a disgust at poor Richard which he thought at the moment would be insuperable; but when he was on the car, and the poor fellow came round to tuck the apron in under his feet, he could not help giving him his hand, and fraternizing with him.
"And how is my mother, Richard?"
"'Deed then, Sir Herbert, me lady is surprising—very quiet-like; but her leddyship was always that, and as sweet to them as comes nigh her as flowers in May; but sure that's nathural to her leddyship."
"And, Richard—"
"Yes, Sir Herbert."
"Was Mr. Owen over at Castle Richmond since I left?"