'I should think there would be no doubt of that,' returned Michael heartily. And then a faint smile crossed the old man's face; but it faded in a moment, as footsteps sounded in the passage outside.
'That is Mat; he has kept his word in coming back so soon. I had better fetch him in, and then you'll get it over.'
'You need not leave the room, Mr. O'Brien; this is your business as well as ours.'
'I know it, sir. But, thank you kindly, I feel as if I had said my say, and that I may as well bide quiet with Prissy. Mat has had it all out with me; we were up half the night talking. I always hoped I was a Christian, Captain; but I doubt it when I think of the words I spoke about that woman. She married that poor lad to serve her own purposes and to spite her lover; and while he doted on her, she just looked down on him, and scouted his people because they were in trade. She pretty nearly ruined him with her fine lady-like ways, and with pestering him for money that he had not got; and then, when he made that slip of his, and was almost crazy with the sin and the shame, she just gives him up—will have nothing more to do with him. And that is the woman that the Almighty made so fair outside that our poor foolish lad went half wild for the love of her! No, sir; if you will excuse me, I will just send Mat along, and keep in the background a bit. It makes me grind my teeth with pain and anger to hear how she treated the poor fellow, almost driving him mad with her bitter tongue!'
'Then in that case I will certainly not keep you.' And as he spoke he noticed how the vigorous old man seemed to totter as he rose from his chair; but he only shook his head with the same gentle smile as Michael offered him his arm.
'Nay, Captain; that is not needed. I am only a bit shaken with all that's passed, and you must give me time to right myself. Now I will send Mat in; and when you have finished I'll see you again.'
Michael did not have to wait long. He had only crossed the room to look at a photograph of Susan O'Brien which always stood on a little round table in the corner, when he found the light suddenly intercepted, as Matthew O'Brien's tall figure blocked up the little window.
To his surprise, Mat commenced the conversation quite easily:
'You are looking at Susan, Captain Burnett? That was taken twelve or thirteen years ago. Isn't it a kind, true face?—that is better than a handsome one in the long-run. She does not look as though she would desert a man when his head is under water—eh, Captain?'
'No, indeed!' returned Michael, falling at once into the other man's humour. 'Mrs. O'Brien must have been a thoroughly good woman, for her husband never seems to have got over her loss; he is always talking about her.'