“I want himself,” said he, as with his palsied hand he motioned to Dalton to come out.
“What is it, you old fool?” said Dalton, impatiently, as he arose and followed him outside of the room.
“There's one of them again!” said Andy, putting his mouth to Dalton's ear, and whispering in deep confidence.
“One of what? one of whom?”
“He's upstairs,” muttered Andy.
“Who's upstairs, who is he?” cried Dalton, angrily.
“Didn't I know him the minit I seen him! Ayeh! Ould as I am, my eyes isn't that dim yet.”
“God give me patience with you!” said Dalton; and, to judge from his face, he was not entreating a vain blessing. “Tell me, I say, what do you mean, or who is it is upstairs?”
Andy put his lips once more to the other's ear, and whispered, “An attorney!”
“An attorney!” echoed Dalton.