The pedlar went over to him, and said, in a low voice, looking cautiously at the father, as if he didn't wish that he should hear him—
“It was surely your honor took away Lord Handicap's daughter when you wor an ensign—the handsome ensign, as they called you in the forty-seventh? Eh? faix I knew you the minute I looked at you.”
“Ha, ha, ha! Do you know what, father? He says I'm the handsome ensign of the forty-seventh, that took away Lord Handicap's daughter.”
“The greatest beauty in all England,” added the pedlar; “an' I knew him at wanst, your honor.”
“Well, Dick, that's a compliment, at any rate,” replied the father.
“Were you ever in the forty-seventh?” asked the son, smiling.
“Ah, ah!” returned the pedlar, with a knowing wink, “behave yourself, captain; I'm not so soft as all that comes to; but sure as I have a favor to ax from his honor, your father, I'm glad to have your assistance. Faix, by all accounts you pleaded your own cause well, at any rate; and I hope you'll give me a lift now wid his honor here.”
Dick the younger laughed heartily, but really had not ready virtue sufficient about, to disclaim the pedlar's compliment.
“Come, then,” he added; “let us hear what your favor is?”
“Oh, thin, thank you, an' God bless you, captain. It's this: only to know if you'd be good enough to grant a new lease of Cargah Farm to young Condy Dalton; for the ould man, by all accounts, is not long for this world.”