“Thank you, sir,” he replied, with a low and not ungraceful bow; “that's a compliment all to the one side, like Clogher.” *
* The proverb is pretty general throughout Tyrone. The town
of Clogher consists of only a single string of houses.
“Very well,” returned the stranger; “I have something to add, in order to make this arrangement more palatable to you.”
“Hold, sir,” replied the other; “before you proceed further, you must understand me. I shall pledge myself under no terms—and I care not what they may be—to answer any question that may throw light upon my own personal identity, or past history.”
“That will not be necessary,” replied the stranger.
“What do you mean, sir,” asked Fenton, starting; “do you mean to hint that you know me?”
“Nonsense,” said the other; “how could I know a man whom I never saw before? No; it is merely concerning the local history of Ballytrain and its inhabitants that I am speaking.”
There was a slight degree of dry irony, however, on his face, as he spoke.
“Well,” said the other, “in the mean time, I don't see why I am to comply with a condition so dictatorially laid down by a person of whom I know nothing.”
“Why, the truth is,” said our strange friend, “that you are evidently a lively and intelligent fellow, not badly educated; I think—and, as it is likely that you have no very direct connection with the inhabitants of the town and surrounding country, I take it for granted that, in the way of mere amusement, you may be able to—”