I had scarcely time to obey the injunction, when Mr. Blake called out:—
“Well, indeed! Charley, this is really fortunate; we have got a friend to take tea with us, and wanted you to meet him.”
Muttering an internal prayer for something not exactly the welfare of the aforesaid friend, whom I judged to be some Galway squire, I professed aloud the pleasure I felt in having come in so opportunely.
“He wishes particularly to make your acquaintance.”
“So much the worse,” thought I to myself; “it rarely happens that this feeling is mutual.”
Evidently provoked at the little curiosity I exhibited, Blake added,—
“He’s on his way to Fermoy with a detachment.”
“Indeed! what regiment, pray?”
“The 28th Foot.”
“Ah, I don’t know them.”