“So they will, barrin' it was a gentleman,” replied Freney, while his eyes twinkled with a peculiarly cunning lustre.
“So, then, you rely on me for this piece of service?” said Daly, after a pause.
“Troth, you're the only gentleman of my acquaintance,” said Freney, quaintly.
“Well, I suppose I must not give you a bad impression of the order; I 'll do it.”
“I knew you would,” rejoined Freney, calmly. “You might bring two files at the same time, and a phial of sweet oil to keep down the noise. Hush! here's Gavin coming to turn you out,—he said ten minutes.”
“Well, then, you shall see me to-morrow, Freney, and I 'll endeavor to see your friend in the mean time.” This was said as the turnkey stood at the open door.
“This gentleman wants to have a look at you, Freney,” said the jailer,—“as if he could n't see you for nothing, some Saturday morning soon.”
“Maybe he 'd not know me in a nightcap,” replied Freney, laughing, while he turned the lamplight full on Lionel Darcy's features.
“The very fellow that rode off with the horse!” exclaimed Lionel as he saw him.
“Young O'Reilly!” said Freney. “What signifies that charge now? Won't it satisfy you if they hang me for something else?”