“I never heard a mean action yet, but there was a Scotch adage to warrant it,” muttered Mark, in a whisper inaudible by the rest.
“Its no' improbable but that Sir Marmaduke Travers did ask if the Doctor could be spared, and it's no' impossible, either, that Roach took the answering the question in his ain hands.”
“I don't think so,” broke in Mark; “the whole thing bears a different aspect. It smacks of English courtesy to an Irish kern.”
“By Jove, Mark is right,” said the O'Donoghue, whose prejudices, strengthened by poverty, too readily chimed in with any suspicion of intended insult.
“They were not long learning the game,” said Mark, bitterly; “they are, if I remember aright, scarce two months in the country, and, see, they treat us as 'mere Irish' already.
“Ye'r ower hasty, Mark. I hae na muckle respect for Roach, nor wad I vouch for his good breeding; but a gentleman, as this Sir Marmaduke's note bespeaks him——.”
“What note? I never heard of it.”
“Oh! it was a polite kind of message, Mark, to say he would be obliged if I permitted him to pay his respects here. I forget to tell you of it.”
“Does the enemy desire a peep at the fortress, that he may calculate how long we can hold out?” said the youth, sternly.
“Begorra, with the boys from Ballyvourney and Inchigeela, we'll howld the place agin the English army,” said Kerry, mistaking the figurative meaning of the speech; and he rubbed his hands with delight at the bare prospect of such a consummation.