lately,' replied Morris; 'he's staying at
Browndean; John is nursing him; and I am alone, as you see.'

Michael smiled to himself. 'I want to see him on particular business,'
he said.

'You can't expect to see my uncle when you won't let me see your
father,' returned Morris.

'Fiddlestick,' said Michael. 'My father is my father; but Joseph is just
as much my uncle as he's yours; and you have no right to sequestrate his
person.'

'I do no such thing,' said Morris doggedly. 'He is not well, he is
dangerously ill and nobody can see him.'

'I'll tell you what, then,' said Michael. 'I'll make a clean breast
of it. I have come down like the opossum, Morris; I have come to
compromise.'

Poor Morris turned as pale as death, and then a flush of wrath against
the injustice of man's destiny dyed his very temples. 'What do you
mean?' he cried, 'I don't believe a word of it.' And when Michael had
assured him of his seriousness, 'Well, then,' he cried, with another
deep flush, 'I won't; so you can put that in your pipe and smoke it.'

'Oho!' said Michael queerly. 'You say your uncle is dangerously ill, and
you won't compromise? There's something very fishy about that.'

'What do you mean?' cried Morris hoarsely.

'I only say it's fishy,' returned Michael, 'that is, pertaining to the
finny tribe.'

'Do you mean to insinuate anything?' cried Morris stormily, trying the
high hand.

'Insinuate?' repeated Michael. 'O, don't let's begin to use awkward
expressions! Let us drown our differences in a bottle, like two affable
kinsmen. The Two Affable Kinsmen, sometimes attributed to Shakespeare,'
he added.

Morris's mind was labouring like a mill. 'Does he suspect? or is this
chance and stuff? Should I soap, or should I bully? Soap,' he concluded.
'It gains time.' 'Well,' said he aloud, and with rather a painful
affectation of heartiness, 'it's long since we have had an evening
together, Michael; and though my habits (as you know) are very
temperate, I may as well make an exception. Excuse me one moment till I
fetch a bottle of whisky from the cellar.'

'No whisky for me,' said Michael; 'a little of the old still champagne
or nothing.'

For a moment Morris stood irresolute, for the wine was very valuable:
the next he had quitted the room without a word. His quick mind had
perceived his advantage; in thus dunning him for the cream of the
cellar, Michael was playing into his hand. 'One bottle?' he thought. 'By
George, I'll gi