"I'll not hear another word of palthry excuse, sirrah," replied the Captain, starting from his seat; "and if the money isn't forthcoming in the twinkling of a bed-post, I'll flay ye first and shoot ye aftherwards."
"Oh! dear—Oh! dear," said the wretched Sir Christopher: "what shall I do?—I wouldn't mind the five hundred that my nephew asks for—since he promises so faithfully to pay me again· but eight hundred——"
"Nine!" thundered the Captain. "D'ye mane to tell me as good as that I'm a liar-r, and that I can't recollect amounts?—Be Jasus! I niver was so insulthed in my life—and nothing but blood can wash it away!"
"Blood!" murmured Sir Christopher: "my blood! and I the father of a family, as I may say."
"So much the more dishonour-r-able for ye to dispute a just debt, and thry to shir-rk off in this bastely fashion!" cried the Captain, twirling his moustache, and eyeing Sir Christopher in a way which made the latter tremble in every limb. "I always thought that ye was a man famous for your straight-for'ard dalings; but I'm desayved—grossly desayved;—and I'll sind my frind to ye to-morrow mornin', before you've had time to break the shell of your first egg at breakfast."
"Well, Captain—to oblige you," said Sir Christopher, "I don't mind if I write a cheque for five hundred pounds; but I positively will give no more—I won't indeed—I can't."
"Put down the palthry five hunthred, then, on the dhraft," exclaimed the Captain; "and I'll make Misther Curtis fork me out the rest at his convaynience."
The miserable Sir Christopher, though feeling that he had been completely bullied into the settlement of the demand made upon him, nevertheless stood in such awful dismay of the warlike Irishman, that he wrote a cheque for the five hundred pounds, which said cheque the Captain secured about his person, exclaiming, "And now, my frind, I'll look over all the insulting words ye have applied to me this evening. But, be the power-r-s! if I hadn't a great respict for ye, I'd make a mummy of ye before ye was twelve hours oulder."
Having thus spoken, the Captain tossed off the remainder of his whiskey-and-water, shook the knight violently by the hand once more, and took his departure, just as the nurse was coming down to desire that Sir Christopher would get rid of his guest and send up the keys of the wine-cellar to her ladyship.
Now, strange as it may appear to the reader,—considering all that they know relative to the character of Captain O'Blunderbuss,—it is nevertheless a fact that he never once thought of appropriating to his own use the amount just extorted from the knight. He was a man who would not hesitate to get into debt, without the least intention of ever paying the same,—he moreover thought that he had accomplished a highly meritorious deed in extorting the five hundred pounds from Sir Christopher: but he was honourable after his own fashion—that is to say, he would scorn to perpetrate an actual robbery, or to betray the trust reposed in him by an accomplice. He was, in fact, one of those curious, but not uncommon beings, who might be trusted with a thousand pounds to convey to the bank for a friend, but who would borrow eighteen-pence without the remotest intention of ever repaying it, and who thought that the most brilliant act a gentleman could achieve was to chouse a creditor.