There the bailiff demanded in a very angry tone the cause of Tom's conduct; and when it was found to be only a mutual misunderstanding—that Goggins wouldn't take a liberty with a gentleman “in defficulties” for the world, and that Tom wouldn't hurt a fly, “only under a mistake”—matters were cleared up to the satisfaction of all parties, and the real business of the meeting commenced:—that was to pay Tom's debt out of hand; and when the bailiff saw all demands, fees included, cleared off, the clouds from his brow cleared off also, he was the most amiable of sheriff's officers, and all his sentimentality returned.
Edward did not seem quite to sympathise with his amiability, so Goggins returned to the charge, while Tom and Dick were exchanging a few words with James Reddy.
“You see, sir,” said Goggins, “in the first place, it is quite beautiful to see the mind in adversity bearing up against the little antediluvian afflictions that will happen occasionally, and then how fine it is to remark the spark of generosity that kindles in the noble heart and rushes to the assistance of the destitute! I do assure you, sir, it is a most beautiful sight to see the gentlemen in defficulties waitin' here for their friends to come to their relief, like the last scene in Blue Beard, where sister Ann waves her han'kerchief from the tower—the tyrant is slain—and virtue rewarded!
“Ah, sir!” said he to Edward O'Connor, whose look of disgust at the wretched den caught the bailiff's attention, “don't entertain an antifassy from first imprissions, which is often desaivin'. I do pledge you my honour, sir, there is no place in the 'varsal world where human nature is visible in more attractive colours than in this humble retrait.”
Edward could not conceal a smile at the fellow's absurdity, though his sense of the ridiculous could not overcome the disgust with which the place inspired him. He gave an admonitory touch to the elbow of Dick Dawson, who, with his friend Tom Durfy, followed Edward from the room, the bailiff bringing up the rear, and relocking the door on the unfortunate James Reddy, who was left “alone in his glory,” to finish his slashing article against the successful men of the day. Nothing more than words of recognition had passed between Reddy and Edward. In the first place, Edward's appearance at the very moment the other was indulging in illiberal observations upon him rendered the ill-tempered poetaster dumb; and Edward attributed this distance of manner to a feeling of shyness which Reddy might entertain at being seen in such a place, and therefore had too much good breeding to thrust his civility on a man who seemed to shrink from it; but when he left the house he expressed his regret to his companions at the poor fellow's unfortunate situation.
It touched Tom Durfy's heart to hear these expressions of compassion coming from the lips of the man he had heard maligned a few minutes before by the very person commiserated, and it raised his opinion higher of Edward, whose hand he now shook with warm expressions of thankfulness on his own account, for the prompt service rendered to him. Edward made as light of his own kindness as he could, and begged Tom to think nothing of such a trifle.
“One word I will say to you, Durfy, and I'm sure you'll pardon me for it.”
“Could you say a thing to offend me?” was the answer.
“You are to be married soon, I understand?”
“To-morrow,” said Tom.