“Well,” said Chevydale, with a very solemn ironical smile, “I am myself very much of your way of thinking; and, as a proof of it, I beg to say that, as your appointment to the office of Supervisor has not yet been made out, I shall write to my brother, the Commissioner, to take care that it never shall. To procure the promotion of a man who can deliberately avow his participation in such shameless profligacy would be to identify myself with it. You have been doubly treacherous, Mr. Clinton; first to me, whom you know to be your friend, and, in the next place, to the unfortunate partner in your villany, and at my expense; for d——d if I can call it less. What noise is that?”
Clinton the elder here withdrew, and had scarcely disappeared when two voices were heard in the hall, in a kind of clamorous remonstrance with each other, which voices were those of Father Magowan and our friend O'Finigan, as we must now call him, inasmuch as he is, although early in the day, expanded with that hereditary sense of dignity which will not allow the great O to be suppressed.
“Behave, and keep quiet, now,” said his Reverence, “you unfortunate pedagogue you; I tell you that you are inebriated.”
“Pardon me, your Reverence,” replied O'Finigan; “non ebrius sed vino gravatus, devil a thing more.”
“Get out, you profligate,” replied the priest, “don't you know that either, at this time o' day, is too bad?”
“Nego, dominie—nego, Dominie revendre—denial is my principle, I say. Do you assert that there's no difference between ebrius and gravatus vino?”
“In your case, you reprobate, I do. Where would you get the vino? However,” he proceeded, “as you are seldom sober, and as I know it is possible you may have something of importance to say on a particular subject, I suppose you may as well say it now as any other time, and it's likely we may get more truth out of you.”
“Ay,” said the schoolmaster, “upon the principle that in vino veritas; but you know that gravatus vino and ebrius are two different things—gravatus vino, the juice o' the grape—och, och, as every one knows, could and stupid; but ebrius from blessed poteen, that warms and gives ecstatic nutrition to the heart.”
The altercation proceeded for a little, but, after a short remonstrance and bustle, the priest, followed by O'Finigan, entered the room.
“Gentlemen,” said the priest, “I trust you will excuse me for the society in which I happen to appear before you; but the truth is that this Finigan—”