"Well, he's a blackguard!"
"No denying it; and therefore keep him on your side if you can, or he'll be a troublesome customer on the other."
"I'll keep no terms with him;—I'll slap at him directly. What can you do that's wickedest?—latitat, capias—fee-faw-fum, or whatever you call it?"
"Halloo! squire, your overrunning your game: may be after all, he won't join the Scatterbrains, and——"
"I tell you it's no matter; he intended doing it, and that's all the same. I'll slap at him—I'll blister him!"
Murtough Murphy wondered at this blind fury of the squire, who, being a good-humoured and good-natured fellow in general, puzzled the attorney the more by his present manifest malignity against O'Grady. But he had not seen the turn-over of the letter: he had not seen "spoon,"—the real and secret cause of the "war-to-the-knife" spirit which was kindled in the squire's breast.
"Of course, you can do what you please; but, if you'd take a friend's advice——"
"I tell you I'll blister him."
"He certainly bled you very freely."
"I'll blister him, I tell you, and that smart. Lose no time, Murphy, my boy: let loose the dogs of law on him, and harass him till he'd wish the d——l had him."