"An' how do you know my name is Kerry?"
"Are you surprised that I should know it?"
"I am that," replied Kerry sharply. "I never set eyes on you before."
"Oh, yes, you did—twenty-five years ago."
"Begorra, that's a lie, anyhow!" muttered Kerry, under his breath, with an uneasy wriggle.
"It is not a lie, and you know it, my man," said Larcher firmly; "it is no use your pretending ignorance. I know who you are."
"Devil a doubt of it! Kerry, you called me."
"Yes! Because you are known by that name here. But at Horriston——"
Claude stopped. He saw the hands of the old man grip the rod so tight that the knuckles whitened. The name had produced the effect he intended. So, almost without a pause, he continued, and aimed another blow at Kerry's imperturbability. "At Horriston," he resumed, "you were known as Denis Bantry."
"Was I, now?" said Kerry, prepared for the attack. "Augh, to think of it! And where might Horriston be, sir?"