“When the wind comes north-by-west,” said Dempsey, with a shrewd glance of his greenish gray eyes, “there 's always a wreck or two between the Skerries and Portrush.”
“Indeed! Is the shore so unsafe as that?”
“Oh, yes. You may expect a very busy winter here when the homeward-bound Americans are coming northward.”
“D——n the fellow! does he take me for a wrecker?” said Darcy to himself, not knowing whether to laugh or be angry.
“Such a curiosity that old 'Corvy' is, they tell me,” said Dempsey, emboldened by his success; “every species of weapon and arm in the world, they say, gathered together there.”
“A few swords and muskets,” said the Knight, carelessly; “a stray dirk or two, and some harpoons, furnish the greater part of the armory.”
“Oh, perhaps so! The story goes, however, that old Daly—brother, I believe, of our friend at Mother Fum's—could arm twenty fellows at a moment's warning, and did so on more than one occasion too.”
“With what object, in Heaven's name?”
“Buccaneering, piracy, wrecking, and so on,” said Dempsey, with all the unconcern with which he would have enumerated so many pursuits of the chase.
A hearty roar of laughter broke from the Knight; and when it ceased he said, “I would be sincerely sorry to stand in your shoes, Mr. Dempsey, so near to yonder cliff, if you made that same remark in Mr. Daly's hearing.”