"Why, sir," continued Russell, who evidently thought he was making a deep impression, and so went on all the more in his vainglorious boastings, "some of these here Continental nobility ain't worth a brass farthing. Why, sir, there's lots of respectable English merchants—tailors, for instance—and other quiet, unassuming gentlemen, who could buy out these Continental nobles, out and out, over and over again."
"Divil a doubt av that same," said the chief. "Ye know how to ixpriss yourself wid very shuitable sintimints. I'd like to know more av you. I suppose ye've got a passport?"
"A passport?" said Russell. "Well, yes, I believe I did get one;" and fumbling in his pocket, he succeeded in bringing to light that important document. This the chief took, and, without opening it, put it in his own pocket.
"I'll take a luk at it prisintly," said he. "Perhaps ye can tell me about yer frind, the young man that's wid yez. Is he yer son?"
"Son? Oh no; but he's a doosed fine young feller. His name's Rivers."
"Is he rich?"
"Well, he's pretty comfortable, I think. He's in the wine and fruit business, and has an agency at Barcelona."
"Sure an' it's meself that's glad to hear that same," said the chief. "An' can ye tell me anything about that other young man that was shtrivin' to join yer party?"
"That fellow—his name's Ashby."
"Ashby, is it?"