"I do mean to say, ma'am, that I never touched a dhrop of anything sthronger than wather, barring tay, since the time I got the pledge from the blessed apostle." And Richard boldly crossed himself in the presence of them both. They knew well whom he meant by the blessed apostle: it was Father Mathew.
"Temperance is a very good thing, however we may come by it," said Mr. Townsend, who meant to imply by this that Richard's temperance had been come by in the worst way possible.
"That's thrue for you, sir," said Richard; "but I never knew any pledge kept, only the blessed apostle's." By which he meant to imply that no sanctity inherent in Mr. Townsend's sacerdotal proceedings could be of any such efficacy.
And then Mr. Townsend read the note. "Ah, yes," said he; "tell Mr. Herbert that I'm very much obliged to him. There will be no other answer necessary."
"Very well, yer riverence, I'll be sure to give Mr. Herbert the message." And Richard made a sign as though he were going.
"But tell me, Richard," said Mrs. Townsend, "is Sir Thomas any better? for we have been really very uneasy about him."
"Indeed and he is, ma'am; a dail betther this morning, the Lord be praised."
"It was a kind of a fit, wasn't it, Richard?" asked the parson.
"A sort of a fit of illness of some kind, I'm thinking," said Richard, who had no mind to speak of his family's secrets out of doors. Whatever he might be called upon to tell the priest, at any rate he was not called on to tell anything to the parson.
"But it was very sudden this time, wasn't it, Richard?" asked the lady; "immediately after that strange man was shown into his room—eh?"