"Not that I know of," said the Squire.
"But are not the lowe' o'ders wather given to what Lo'd Bacon calls——"
"Who cares about Lord Bacon?" said Murphy.
"My dear sir, you supwise me!" said Furlong, in utter amazement. "Lord Bacon's sayings——"
"'Pon my conscience," said Murphy, "both himself and his sayings are very rusty by this time."
"Oh, I see, Miste' Muffy. You neve' will be sewious."
"Heaven forbid!" said Murphy—"at least at dinner, or after dinner. Seriousness is only a morning amusement—it makes a very poor figure in the evening."
"By-the-bye," said Mr. Bermingham, "talking of drowning, I heard a very odd story to-day from O'Grady. You and he, I believe," said the clergyman, addressing Egan, "are not on as good terms as you were."
At this speech Furlong did rather open his eyes, the Squire hummed and hawed, Murphy coughed, Mrs. Egan looked into her plate, and Dick, making a desperate rush to the rescue, asked Furlong which he preferred, a single or a double barrelled gun.
Mr. Bermingham, perceiving the sensation his question created, thought he had touched upon forbidden ground, and therefore did not repeat his question, and Fanny whispered Furlong that one of the stranger's mad peculiarities was mistaking one person for another; but all this did not satisfy Furlong, whose misgivings as to the real name of his host were growing stronger every moment. At last, Mr. Bermingham, without alluding to the broken friendship between Egan and O'Grady, returned to the "odd story" he had heard that morning about drowning.