“Donnel Dhu? Why—ahem!—a little—not much. Nobody, indeed, knows or cares much about him. However, like most people, he has his friends and his enemies.”
“Don't you remember a murdher that was committed here about two-and-twenty-years ago?”
“I do.”
“Was that before or afther the Black Prophet came to live in this counthry?”
“Afther it—afther it. No, no!'” he replied, correcting himself; “I am wrong; it was before he came here.”
“Then he could have had no hand in it?”
“Him! Is it him! Why, what puts such a thing as that into your head'?”
“Faith, to tell you the truth, Rody, his daughter Sarah an' myself is beginnin' to look at one another; an', to tell you the truth again, I'd wish to know more about the same Prophet before I become his son-in-law, as I have some notion of doin'.”
“I hard indeed that you wor pullin' a string wid her, an' now that I think of it, if you give me a lift wid ould Jemmy, I'll give you one there. The bailiff's berth is jist the thing for me; not havin' any family of my own, you see I could have no objection to live in the Grange, as their bailiff always did; but, aren't you afeard to tackle yourself to that divil's clip, Sarah?”
“Well, I don't know,” replied the other; “I grant it's a hazard, by all accounts.”