Darby touched his hat gratefully, and was about to retire within the house when he caught sight of Conyers at the window. He waited till the rider had turned the angle of the road, and then said,—
“That's Mr. St. George. They used to call him the Slasher, he killed so many in duels long ago; but he 's like a lamb now.”
“And the young lady?”
“The young lady is it!” said Darby, with the air of one not exactly concurring in the designation. “She's old Dill's daughter, the doctor that attends you.”
“What was it all about?”
“It was a bet they made with an English captain this morning that she 'd ride from Lowe's Folly to the Gap in an hour and a half. The Captain took a hundred on it, because he thought she 'd have to go round by the bridge; and they pretinded the same, for they gave all kinds of directions about clearing the carts out of the road, for it's market-day at Thomastown; and away went the Captain as hard as he could, to be at the bridge first, to 'time her,' as she passed. But he has won the money!” sighed he, for the thought of so much Irish coin going into a Saxon pocket completely overcame him; “and what's more,” added he, “the gentleman says it was all your fault!”
“All my fault!” cried Conyers, indignantly. “All my fault! Do they imagine that I either knew or cared for their trumpery wager! I saw a girl struggling in a danger from which not one of them had the manliness to rescue her!”
“Oh, take my word for it,” burst in Darby, “it's not courage they want!”
“Then it is something far better than even courage, and I'd like to tell them so.”
And he turned away as much disgusted with Darby as with the rest of his countrymen. Now, all the anger that filled his breast was not in reality provoked by the want of gallantry that he condemned; a portion, at least, was owing to the marvellous indifference the young lady had manifested to her preserver. Was peril such an every-day incident of Irish life that no one cared for it, or was gratitude a quality not cultivated in this strange land? Such were the puzzles that tormented him as he descended to the drawing-room.