“Niel and I are doubtless much complimented by the remark,” said Rawlins.
“Pooh, pooh!” cried Repton, “what did great guns like you and Niel care for such 'small deer.' You were only brought down here as a great corps de réserve. It was young Nelligan who fought the battle, and admirably he did it. While I was listening to him to-day, I could not help saying to myself, 'It's well for us that there were no fellows of this stamp in our day.' Ay, Rawlins, you know it well. We were speech-makers; these fellows are lawyers.”
“Why didn't he dine with us to-day?” asked Niel, sharply.
“Heaven knows. I believe his father lives in the town here; perhaps, too, he had no fancy for a dress-parade before such drill-sergeants as you and Rawlins there.”
“You are acquainted with him, I think?” asked Rawlins.
“Yes, slightly; we met strangely enough, at Cro' Martin last year. He was then on a visit there, a quiet, timid youth, who actually seemed to feel as though his college successes were embarrassing recollections in a society who knew nothing of deans or proctors. There was another young fellow also there at the time,—young Massingbred,—with about a tenth of this man's knowledge, and a fiftieth of his capacity, who took the lead of him on every subject, and by the bare force of an admirable manner and a most unabashed impudence, threw poor Nelligan completely into the background. It was the same kind of thing I 've often seen Niel there perform at the Four Courts, where he has actually picked up his law from a worsted opponent, as a highwayman arms himself with the pistols of the man he has robbed.”
“I never pillaged you, Repton,” said Niel, with a sarcastic smile. “You had always the privilege the poet ascribes to him who laughs 'before a robber.'”
“Vacuus sed non Inanis,” replied Repton, laughing good-humoredly.
“But tell us more of this man, Nelligan,” said Rawlins. “I 'm curious to hear about him.”
“And so you are sure to do some of these days, Rawlins. That fellow is the man to attain high eminence.”