“Indeed!” exclaimed both; and as they spoke, each cast a look of inquiry at the other.
“What could bring them to Ahadarra, gentlemen?” asked Finigan, in a tone of voice which rendered it a nice point to determine whether it was a simple love of knowledge that induced him to put the question, or some other motive that might have lain within a kind of ironical gravity that accompanied it.
“Why, I suppose a pair of good horses,” replied Hycy, “and their own inclination.”
“It was not the last, at all events,” said Finigan, “that ever brought a thief to the gallows—ha! ha! ha! we must be facetious sometimes, Mr. Hycy.”
“You appear to enjoy that joke, Mr. Finigan,” said Hycy, rather tartly.
“Faith,” replied Finigan, “it's a joke that very few do enjoy, I think.”
“What is?”
“Why, the gallows, sir—ha! ha! ha! but don't forget the O if you plaise—ever and always the big O before Finigan—ha! ha! ha!”
“Come, Clinton,” said Hycy, “move on a little. D—n that fellow!” he cried—“he's a sneering scoundrel; and I'm half inclined to think he has more in him than one would be apt to give him credit for.”
“By the way, what could the visit to Ahadarra mean?” asked Clinton. “Do you know anything about it, Hycy?”