[Supper at Father Malachi's]
While thus occupied in my surveillance of the scene before me, I was roused by the priest saying—
"Ah, Fin, my darling, you needn't deny it; you're at the old game as sure as my name is Malachi, and ye'll never be easy nor quiet till ye're sent beyond the sea, or maybe have a record of your virtues on half a ton of marble in the church—yard, yonder."
"Upon my honour, upon the sacred honour of a De Courcy—."
"Well, well, never mind it now; ye see ye're just keeping your friends cooling themselves there in the corner—introduce me at once."
"Mr. Lorrequer, I'm sure—."
"My name is Curzon," said the adjutant, bowing.
"A mighty pretty name, though a little profane; well, Mr. Curse-on," for so he pronounced it, "ye're as welcome as the flowers in May; and it's mighty proud I am to see ye here.
"Mr. Lorrequer, allow me to shake your hand—I've heard of ye before."