lemnity in his small, cunning gray eye, that no painter
could copy.

"Why, you scoundrel," said Val, "you're overdoing the thing altogether;
is it possible that M'Slime is such a spooney as not to see through
you?"

"Ah, Captain, you don't make any allowance for my simplicity; sure you
know, sir, I must grow young and innocent, if I'm to become a babe of
grace, your worship."

"But what's the meaning of all this work about discussions and such
stuff?"

"Faith, sir, it's all thrue enough at any rate; we're to have a
religious field day here in the Sessions house of Castle Cumber; the
whole thing is regulated--the seconds, and bottle houlders, and all is
appointed. There's the Rev. Christopher Gammon, Rev. Vesuvius M'Slug,
who's powerful against Popery, the Rev. Bernard Brimstone, and the Rev.
Phineas Lucre, with many more on the side of truth. On that of Popery
and falsehood there's the Rev. Father M'Stake, the Rev. Father O'Flary,
the Rev. Father M'Fire, and the Rev. Nicholas O'Scorch, D.D. Dr. Sombre
is to be second on our side; and Father M'Fud on the part of Popery and
idolatry."

"And when is this precious spouting match to take place, you rascal?"

"Why, sir, on Monday week; and on next Sunday, sir, I'm to read my
rekintation, plaise God."

"But I didn't intend that you should go to such lengths as
that--however, that's your own affair."

"But, Captain ahagur, sure it's on your account I'm doin' it--won't it
enable me to get the blind side of him about one or two tilings we want
to come at."

"Indeed, I believe certainly, that if he has a blind side at all, it is
his own hypocrisy."

"Be my soul, and it'll go hard or we'll worm out the sacret we want.
There is one tiling I'm sartin of, he thinks, now that I'm turnin' by
the way, that I'm ready to desart and desave you, Captain, an' indeed he
says many things of you that he ought not to' say."

"Let us hear them."

"Why, sir, he said the other day--but sorra one o' me likes to be
repeatin' these things."

"Come, come, you rascal, out with it."

"He said, sir, that he feared the divil had a hard howlt o you--that was
the day I brought him the last letter, sir--that your heart, Captain,
was full o' desate, and damnably wicked, plase your worship, and that if
you didn't improve your morals you'd go where there is--something about
gnashing of teeth, your honor."

"He's a double distilled scoundrel," replied Val, bitterly, "and
although I know him w