“That's a high price,—devil a lie in it!” muttered Tom, thoughtfully.
Linton spoke not, but seemed to let the charm work.
“A high price, but the 'dhrop' in Limerick is higher,” said Tom, with a grin.
“Perhaps it may be,” rejoined Linton, carelessly; “though I don't perceive how the fact can have any interest for you or me.”
“Be gorra, ye 're a cowld man, anyhow,” said Keane, his savage nature struck with admiring wonder at the unmoved serenity of Linton's manner.
“I'm a determined one,” said Linton, who saw the necessity of impressing his companion; “and with such alone would I wish to act.”
“And where would you be, after it was all over, sir?”
“Here, where I am at present, assisting the magistrates to scour the country,—searching every cabin at Drumoologan,—draining ditches to discover the weapon, and arresting every man that killed a pig and got blood on his corduroys for the last fortnight.”
“And where would I be?” asked Keane.
“Here too; exactly where you sit this moment, quietly waiting till the outcry was over. Nor need that make you impatient. I have said already there is neither wife, nor sister, nor brother, nor child to take up the pursuit. There are forty people in the great house yonder, and there would n't be four of them left two hours after it was known, nor one out of the four that would give himself the trouble of asking how it happened.”