‘How much is it?’ asked he eagerly.
‘We demanded five hundred pounds for a major on the staff; suppose we say two, colonel, is that sufficient?’ asked Peters of the President.
‘I should say quite enough,’ was the reply.
‘There’s eighty of it, anyway,’ said the farmer, producing a dirty roll of bank-notes, and throwing them on the table; ‘I got them from Mr. Murphy in Smithfield this morning, and I’ll get twice as much more from him for asking; so if your honours will wait till I come back, I’ll not be twenty minutes away.’
‘But we can’t take your money, my man; we have no right to touch it.’
‘Then what are ye talking about two hundred pounds for?’ asked he sternly.
‘We want your promise to pay in the event of this bail being broken.’
‘Oh, I see, it’s all the same thing in the end; I’ll do it either way.’
‘We’ll accept Mr. Murphy’s guarantee for your solvency,’ said Peters; ‘obtain that, and you can sign the bond at once.’
‘‘Faith, I’ll get it, sure enough, and be here before you’ve the writing drawn out,’ said he, buttoning up his coat.