e will be happy to see you when the wine is on the table; and, in
the meantime, you will just come in and satisfy your appetite. You have
had a long ride since you took anything to eat, barring maybe the
whisky, which is not quite so rare on the road."

"My name is Jonas Quelch, at your service," answered the stranger, "and
I come from England, though I have been living for some time in Dublin.
It's a fine city, that Dublin."

"Faith it is, Mr Quelch," observed Crean; "and fine people in it, and
rogues in it, and the rogues sometimes come out of it, and when they do
they are pretty glad to get back again, for we don't like rogues in
these parts, Mr Quelch. But I will not keep you sitting on your horse;
that will be taken to the stable, and you will just come in, as I said,
and partake of the scanty fare this poor part of the country can
afford."

He spoke in a satirical tone. Mr Quelch, holding his riding-whip in
his hand, as if for defence, followed him into the house. Peter. Crean
was, however, all courtesy and attention. He entreated his visitor to
make himself at home, and helped him abundantly to the good things in
the dishes placed before him, nor did he omit to ply him with whisky.
Glass upon glass he induced him to pour down his throat, till I began to
wonder how he could swallow so much without inconvenience. He was
evidently a hardened vessel. Crean, however, had not yet done with him.
He now placed before him a flagon of claret.

"Faith, this is the stuff for a gentleman," he observed. "You may just
empty the bottle, and feel none the worse, but rather much the better
than when you began."

The stranger, nothing loath, followed the advice of the steward. By
degrees, however, Mr Quelch's speech became thick, and his conversation
more and more incoherent. Crean watched him with a wicked look in his
eyes, continuing to press the liquor more and more warmly upon him.

"Come, now, Mr Quelch, just let's begin another bottle. I have always
found, where one bottle confuses a man's head, a second one puts him all
to rights again. Now, I should not be surprised but that you are
beginning to feel a little fuddled."

"You are right, friend," answered Mr Quelch, though the words were
jerked out in a manner indicative of his state.

"Just so; and, now, follow my advice. Take the other bottle to cure
you. We never like a stranger to come to this part of old Ireland
without showing him due hospitality