"Ever known any of my countrymen on the island?"
"Just one, boy; just one."
"What was he?"
"A big chap, six feet six, if an inch, and ter'ble strong; and a fist at him like a sledge; and a rough enough divil, too, and ye darn' spit afore him; but quiet for all—aw, yes, wonderful quiet."
"Who was he, Davy?"
"A widda man these teens of years."
"But what was his name?"
"Paul?—no! Peter?—no! Chut, bless ye, it's clane gone at me; but it's one of the lot in the ould Book, any way."
"Was it Stephen?"
"By gough, yes, and a middlin' good guess too."