“‘Then there’s the bay horse,—a great strapping, leggy beast he is for a tilbury; and the hunters, worth nothing here; they don’t know this country. Them’s neat pistols; and the tilbury is not bad—’
“‘Confound you!’ said I, losing all patience; ‘we didn’t ask you here to appraise our movables. We want to raise the wind without that.’
“‘I see, I perceive,’ said Mat, taking a pinch of snuff very leisurely as he spoke,—‘I see. Well, that is difficult, very difficult just now. I’ve mortgaged every acre of ground in the two counties near us, and a sixpence more is not to be had that way. Are you lucky at the races?’
“‘Never win a sixpence.’
“‘What can you do at whist?’
“‘Revoke, and get cursed by my partner; devil a more!’
“‘That’s mighty bad, for otherwise, we might arrange something for you. Well, I only see one thing for it; you must marry. A wife with some money will get you out of your present difficulties; and we’ll manage that easily enough.’
“‘Come, Dan,’ said I, for Shaugh was dropping asleep; ‘cheer up, old fellow. Donevan has found the way to pull us through our misfortunes. A girl with forty thousand pounds, the best cock shooting in Ireland, an old family, a capital cellar, all await ye,—rouse up, there!’
“‘I’m convanient,’ said Shaugh, with a look intended to be knowing, but really very tipsy.
“‘I didn’t say much for her personal attractions, Captain,’ said Mat; ‘nor, indeed, did I specify the exact sum; but Mrs. Rogers Dooley, of Clonakilty, might be a princess—’