“'I am Captain M'Claverty, of the Scots Greys,' said he, 'first aide-de-camp to his Excellency.'
“'I hope you may live to be colonel of the regiment,' said my grandfather, for he was as polite and well-bred as any man in Ireland.
“'That's too good a sentiment,' said the captain, 'not to be pledged in a glass of your own sherry.'
“'And we'll do it too,' said old Dempsey. And he opened the desk, and took out a bottle he had for his own private drinking, and uncorked it with a little pocket corkscrew he always carried about with him, and he produced two glasses, and he and the captain hobnobbed and drank to each other.
“'Begad!' said the captain, 'his Grace sent me to thank you for the delicious wine you supplied him with, but it's nothing to this,—-not to be compared to it.'
“'I 've better again,' said my grandfather. 'I 've wine that would bring the tears into your eyes when you saw the decanter getting low.'
“The captain stared at him, and maybe it was that the speech was too much for his nerves, but he drank off two glasses one after the other as quick as he could fill them out.
“'Dempsey,' said he, looking round cautiously, 'are we alone?'
“'We are,' said my grandfather.
“'Tell me, then,' said M'Claverty, 'how could his Grace get a taste of this real sherry—for himself alone, I mean? Of course, I never thought of his giving it to the Judges, and old Lord Dunboyne, and such like.'