He was very civil to Brian, and after a transfer of coin, inquired about the weather.
There was a bit of a draught of wind in the lough, Brian said, but it was a fine day for a sail. Would his lardship have a mind for a bit of a sail? The Acushla was cruising, but the Mavourneen, a neat little craft that sailed like a swallow, was at his lardship’s service.
After some little consideration, Lord Fotheringay said that though he had no idea of sailing when he left the Castle, yet he never could resist the temptation of a fine breeze—it was nothing stronger than a breeze that was blowing, was it?
“A draught—just a bit of a draught,” said the man.
“In that case,” said Lord Fotheringay, “I think I may venture. In fact, now that I come to think of it, I should like to visit the opposite shore. There is a Castle or something, is there not, on the opposite shore?”
“Is it a Castle?” said Brian. “Oh, there’s a power of Castles scattered along the other shore, my lard. It’s thrippin’ over them your lardship will be after doin.’”
“Then we’ll not lose a moment in starting,” said Lord Fotheringay.