"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 "bladdher,"—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."
"Just as you like; but——"
"I'll have it my own way, I tell you; so say no more."
"I'll commence against him at once then, as you wish it; but it's no use, for you know very well that it will be impossible to serve him."
"Let me alone for that: I'll be bound I'll find fellows to get the inside of him."