The old woman lighted his rushlight, showed him to his red check bed, and wished him a very good night; not without some slight sentiment of displeasure at his gaping thus at the panegyric on her darling Grace. Before she left the room, however, her short-lived resentment vanished, upon his saying, that he hoped, with her permission, to be present at the wedding of the young couple.
Early in the morning Brian went to the priest, to ask his reverence when it would be convenient to marry him; and whilst he was gone, Mr. Dennis Garraghty came to the cottage, to receive the rent and possession. The rent was ready, in gold, and counted into his hand.
“No occasion for a receipt; for a new lase is a receipt in full for every thing.”
“Very well, sir,” said the widow; “I know nothing of law. You know best—whatever you direct—for you are acting as a friend to us now. My son got the attorney to draw the pair of new lases yesterday, and here they are ready, all to signing.”
Mr. Dennis said, his brother must settle that part of the business, and that they must carry them up to the castle; “but first give me the possession.”
Then, as he instructed her, she gave up the key of the door to him, and a bit of the thatch of the house; and he raked out the fire, and said every living creature must go out. “It’s only form of law,” said he.
“And must my lodger get up, and turn out, sir?” said she.
“He must turn out, to be sure—not a living soul must he left in it, or it’s no legal possession, properly. Who is your lodger?”
On Lord Colambre’s appearing, Mr. Dennis showed some surprise, and said, “I thought you were lodging at Brannagan’s; are not you the man who spoke to me at his house about the gold mines?”
“No, sir, he never lodged at Brannagan’s,” said the widow.