“What proof can you afford me that you are free from it?”
“Why, blow me if I know the twelve commandments, and, besides, I was only at church three times in my life, and I fell asleep under the sermon each time; religion, sir, never agreed with me.”
“To blazon my shame!—bad enough; but the ruin of my hopes, d—n you, sir, how durst you publish my disgrace to the world?”
“I, your honor! I'll take my oath I never breathed a syllable of it; and you know yourself, sir, the man was too drunk to be able to speak or remember anything of what happened.”
“Sir, you came to mock and jeer at me; and, besides, you are a liar, she has not eloped.”
“I don't understand you, Sir Thomas,” said Gillespie, who saw at once by his master's disturbed and wandering eye, that the language he uttered was not addressed to him.
“What—what,” exclaimed the latter, rising up and stretching himself, in order to call back his scattered faculties. “Eh, Gillespie!—what brought you here, sirrah? Are you too come to triumph over the ambitious projector? What am I saying? I sent for you, Gillespie, did I not?”
“You did, Sir Thomas; and with regard to what we were speaking about—I mean religion—I'll hould a pound note with Charley Corbet, when he comes back, that I have less of it than him; and we'll both leave it to your honor, as the best judge; now, if I have less of it than Charley, I think I deserve the preference.”
The baronet looked at him, or rather in the direction where he stood, which induced Gillespie to suppose that he was paying the strictest attention to what he said.
“Besides, I once caught Charley at his prayers, Sir Thomas; but I'd be glad to see the man that ever caught me at them—that's the chat.”