“It was only this morning, however, I got the order from the sub-sheriff; and indeed he wouldn’t have given it but that he seen her out of the window, for in all her distress, and with her clothes wet and draggled, she’s as beautiful a creature as ever walked.”
“Why not marry her yourself, O’Rorke? By Jove! you’re head and ears in love already. I’ll make you a handsome settlement, on my oath I will.”
“There’s two small objections, Sir. First, there’s another Mrs. O’Rorke, though I’m not quite sure where at the present setting; and even if there wasn’t, she wouldn’t have me.”
“I don’t see that; and if it be only the bigamy you’re afraid of, go off to Australia or America, and your first wife will never trace you.”
O’Rorke shook his head, and, to strengthen his determination perhaps, he mixed himself a strong tumbler of punch.
“And where are we now?” asked Ladarelle.
O’Rorke, perhaps, did not fully understand the question, for he looked at him inquiringly.
“I ask you, where are we now? Don’t you understand me?”
“We’re pretty much where we were yesterday; that is, we’re waiting to know what’s to be done for the ould man in the gaol, and what your honour intends to do about”—he hesitated and stammered, and at last said—“about the other business.”
“Well, it’s the other business, as you neatly call it, Mr. O’Rorke, that interests me at present. Sir Within has written twice to Mr. Luttrell since you left the Castle. One of his letters I stopped before it reached the office, the other I suppose has come to hand.”