“Will I bring you the Petition, sir?” asked Bryan.
“Fetch me the Petition.”
“And Bryan,” said Fethertonge, raising his finger at him as if by way of warning—and laughing—“hark ye, let this be the last.”
“Fethertonge,” said the landlord, “I see 'Pratt has been found guilty, and the sentence confirmed by the Commander-in-Chief.”
“You will insist on it,” said Bryan, in reply to the agent, “but—”
“There now, M'Mahon,” said the latter, “that will do; good day to you.”
“I think it is a very harsh sentence, Fethertonge; will you touch the bell?”
“I don't know, sir,” replied the other, ringing as he spoke; “Neville's testimony was very strong against him, and the breaking of the glass did not certainly look like sobriety.”
“I had one other word to say, gentlemen,” added M'Mahon, “if you'll allow me, now that I'm here.”
Fethertonge looked at him with a face in which might be read a painful but friendly rebuke for persisting to speak, after the other had changed the subject. “I rather think Mr. Chevydale would prefer hearing it some other time, Bryan.”