“Mr. Lanigan,” said Esther, and her breath was checked by a hysteric hiccup, “Mr. Lanigan, you are to bring up the key of the green-room, and plenty of venison, roast beef, and a bottle of wine! There!”
“Baal, Maisther Lanigan, I winna stay langer under this roof; it's nae cannie; I'll e'en gang out, and ha'e some nonsense clavers wi' yon queer auld carl i' the gerden. The Lord ha'e a eare o' us!—what will the warld come to next!”
He accordingly repaired to the garden, where the first thing he did was to give a fearful account to Reilly of their master's political profligacy. The latter felt surprised, but not at all at Malcomson's narrative. The fact was, he knew the exact circumstances of the case, because he knew the squire's character, which was sometimes good, and sometimes the reverse—just according to the humor he might be in: and in reply observed to Malcomson, that—
“As his honor done a great dale o' good! to the poor o' the counthry, I think it wouldn't be daicent in us, Misther Malcomson, to go for to publish this generous act to the poor priesht; if he is wrong, let us lave him to Gad, shir.”
“Ou ay, weel I dinna but you're richt; the mair that we won't hae to answer for his transgressions; sae e'en let every herring hang by its ain tail.”
In the meantime, Lanigan, who understood the affair well enough, addressed the audience in the kitchen to the following effect:
“Now,” said he, “what a devil of a hubbub you all make about nothing! Pray, young lady,” addressing Esther Wilson, who alone had divulged the circumstance, “did his honor desire you to keep what you seen saicret?”
“He did, cook, he did,” replied Esther; “and gave us money not to speak about it, which is a proof of his guilt.”
“And the first thing you did was to blaze it to the whole kitchen! I'll tell you what it is now—if he ever hears that you breathed a syllable of it to mortal man, you won't be under his roof two hours.”
“Oh, but, surely, cook—”