Though thus Paten's friends had passed this bill of indemnity in his favor, the affair of Jersey was never alluded to, by even his most intimate amongst them. It was a page of history to be carefully wafered up till that reckoning when all volumes are ransacked, and no blottings nor erasures avail! As for himself, who, to look at him, with his bright countenance, to hear the jocund ring of his merry laugh—who could ever imagine such a figure in a terrible scene of tragedy? What could such a man have to do with any of the dark machinations of crime, the death-struggle, the sack, the silent party that stole across the grass at midnight, and the fish-pond? Oh, no! rather picture him as one who, meeting such details in his daily paper, would hastily turn the sheet to seek for pleasanter matter; and so it was he eschewed these themes in conversation, and even when some celebrated trial would for the moment absorb all interest, giving but one topic in almost every circle, Paten would drop such commonplaces on the subject as showed he cared little or nothing for the event.
Let us now hear what these two men are talking about, as they sat thus confidentially over the fire. Stocmar is the chief speaker. He does not smoke of a morning, because many of his grand acquaintances are averse to tobacco; as for Paten, the cigar never leaves his lips.
“Well, now for his story!” cried Paten. “I 'm anxious to hear about him.”
“I 'm sorry I can't gratify the curiosity. All I can tell you is where I found him. It was in Dublin. They had a sort of humble Cremorne there,—a place little resorted to by the better classes; indeed, rarely visited save by young subs from the garrison, milliners, and such other lost sheep; not very wonderful, after all, seeing that the rain usually contrived to extinguish the fireworks. Having a spare evening on my hands, I went there, and, to my astonishment, witnessed some of the most extraordinary displays in fireworks I had ever seen. Whether for beauty of design, color, and precision, I might declare them unequalled. 'Who's your pyrotechnist?' said I to Barry, the proprietor.
“'I can't spare him, Mr. Stocmar,' said he, 'so I entreat you don't carry him off from me.'
“'Oh!' cried I, 'it was mere curiosity prompted the question. The man is well enough here, but he would n't do for us. We have got Giomelli, and Clari—'
“'Not fit to light a squib for him,' said he, warming up in his enthusiasm for his man. 'I tell you, sir, that fellow would teach Giomelli, and every Italian of them all. He's a great man, sir,—a genius. He was, once on a time, the great Professor of a University; one of the very first scientific men of the kingdom, and if it was n't for '—here he made a sign of drinking—'he 'd perhaps be this day sought by the best in the land.'
“Though interested by all this, I only gave a sort of incredulous laugh in return, when he went on:—
“'If I was quite sure you 'd not take him away—if you 'd give me your word of honor for it—I'd just show him to you, and you 'd see—even tipsy as he's sure to be—if I'm exaggerating.'
“'What is he worth to you, Barry?' said I.