"Oh! you know that of yourself, Mr. Keegan; you know he hasn't the interest itself, till I screw it out of them poor devils of tenants."
"Well, Mr. Macdermot, as you haven't the money to pay the principal debt, of course you can't clear the estate. Why, you see, the interest amounts to £198 odd shillings a year; and before that's paid—times is so bad, you see—Mr. Flannelly is obliged—obliged, in his own defence, you see—to run you to great expense. Well, now, perhaps you'd say, if Flannelly wants his money at once, you'd borrow it on another mortgage—that is, sell the mortgage, Mr. Thady; but money's so scarce these days, and the property is so little improved, and the tenants so bad, that you couldn't raise the money on it—you couldn't possibly raise the money on it."
"Why, Mr. Keegan, father pays Mr. Flannelly £5 per cent., and the property is near to £400 a year, even now."
"Well, of course, if you think so, I wouldn't advise you to the contrary; only, if so, Mr. Flannelly must foreclose at once, in which case the property would be sold out and out; but perhaps you could effect a loan in time—"
"Well, Mr. Keegan, what was it you said you had to propose?"
"What Mr. Flannelly proposes, you mean;—of course I'm only his messenger now. What he proposes is this. You see, the property is so unimproved, and bad—why, the house is tumbling down—it's enough to kill your father, now he's getting a little infirm."
"Well, well, Mr. Keegan; what is it Mr. Flannelly wishes to do with us?"
"Wishes to do?—oh, he doesn't wish anything, of course; the law is open to him to get his own; in fact, the law would give him much more than he wishes to take: but he proposes to buy Ballycloran himself."
"Buy Ballycloran!" screamed Larry.
"Well, well, father; let's hear what Mr. Keegan has to say.—Well, Mr. Keegan, does he propose giving anything but what he has got himself already?—or does he propose to take the estate for the mortgage, and cry quits; so that father, and Feemy, and I, can walk out just where we plaze?"