Fearful of once more giving way to unseasonable mirth I rushed from the room and hurried downstairs; the crowd that had so lately accompanied me was now scattered, each to his several home. The only one who lingered near the door was the poor idiot (for such he was) that wore the huntsman's dress.
'Is the Loughrea car gone, Joe?' said I, for I remembered his name.
'She is, yer honour, she's away.'
'Is there any means of getting over to-night?'
'Barrin' walkin', there's none.'
'Ay; but,' said I, 'were I even disposed for that, I have got my luggage.'
'Is it heavy?' said Joe.
'This portmanteau and the carpet-bag you see there.'
'I'll carry them,' was the brief reply.
'You 'll not be able, my poor fellow,' said I.