“I recommend a bumper of that claret, my Lord,” said Lord Castlereagh, determined to cut short the prescription, which now was being listened to by the whole board; “and when I add the health of the primate, I 'm sure you 'll not refuse me.” The toast was drunk with all suitable honors, and the Secretary resumed in a whisper: “He wants our best wishes on that score, poor fellow, if they could serve him. He's not long to be with us, I fear.”
“Indeed, my Lord!” said the bishop, eagerly.
“Alas! too true,” sighed Lord Castlereagh; “he 'll be a severe loss, too. I wanted to have some minutes' talk with you on the matter. These are times of no common emergency, and the men we promote are of great consequence at this moment. Say to-morrow, about one.”
“I 'll be punctual,” said the bishop, taking out his tablets to make a note of what his memory would retain to the end of his life.
Lord Castlereagh caught the Knight's eye at the instant, and they both smiled, without being able to control their emotion.
“And so,” said Lord Castlereagh, hastening to conceal his laugh, “my young relation continues to enjoy the hospitalities of your house. I don't doubt in the least that he reckons that wound the luckiest incident of his life.”
“My friend Darcy paid even more dearly for it,” said Lord Drogheda, overhearing the remark; “but for Heffernan's tidings, I should certainly have lost my wager.”
“I assure you, Knight,” broke in Hickman O'Reilly, “it was through no fault of mine that the altercation ended so seriously. I visited Captain Forester in his room, and thought I obtained his pledge to take no further notice of the affair.”
“And I, too, told him the style of fellow MacDonough was,” said Beecham, affectedly.
“I have heard honorable mention of both facts, gentlemen,” said Darcy, dryly; “that nothing could have less contributed to a breach of the peace than Mr. Beecham O'Reilly's conduct, my friend Daly is willing to vouch for.”