“Wheugh!—He talks as if he had the bank of England at his command, as every young man does,” said Sir Terence.
Lord Colambre deigned no reply. Lord Clonbrony walked undecidedly between his agent and his son—looked at Sir Terence, and said nothing.
Mr. Garraghty departed: Lord Clonbrony called after him from the head of the stairs, “I shall be at home and at leisure in the morning.”
Sir Terence ran down stairs after him: Lord Colambre waited quietly for their return.
“Fifteen hundred guineas at a stroke of a goose-quill!—That was a neat hit, narrowly missed, of honest Nick’s!” said Lord Clonbrony. “Too bad! too bad, faith!—I am much, very much obliged to you, Colambre, for that hint: by to-morrow morning we shall have him in another tune.”
“And he must double the bag, or quit,” said Sir Terence.
“Treble it, if you please, Terry. Sure, three times five’s fifteen:—fifteen hundred down, or he does not get my signature to those leases for his brother, nor get the agency of the Colambre estate.—Colambre, what more have you to tell of him? for, since he is making out his accounts against me, it is no harm to have a per contra against him, that may ease my balance.”
“Very fair! very fair!” said Sir Terence. “My lord, trust me for remembering all the charges against him—every item: and when he can’t clear himself, if I don’t make him buy a good character dear enough, why, say I am a fool, and don’t know the value of character, good or bad!”
“If you know the value of character, Sir Terence,” said Lord Colambre, “you know that it is not to be bought or sold.” Then turning from Sir Terence to his father, he gave a full and true account of all he had seen in his progress through his Irish estates; and drew a faithful picture both of the bad and good agent. Lord Clonbrony, who had benevolent feelings, and was fond of his tenantry, was touched; and when his son ceased speaking, repeated several times, “Rascal! rascal! How dare he use my tenants so—the O’Neills in particular!—Rascal! bad heart!—I’ll have no more to do with him.” But, suddenly recollecting himself, he turned to Sir Terence, and added, “That’s sooner said than done—I’ll tell you honestly, Colambre, your friend Mr. Burke may he the best man in the world—but he is the worst man to apply to for a remittance or a loan, in a HURRY! He always tells me, ‘he can’t distress the tenants.’”
“And he never, at coming into the agency even,” said Sir Terence, “advanced a good round sum to the landlord, by way of security for his good behaviour. Now honest Nick did that much for us at coming in.”