ut a few feathers in his
nest, man? The county has a broad back."

"His nest is better feathered than he deserves. He has two enormous
livings, a good private fortune, and now, indeed, he must come to saddle
himself upon the county in the shape of a job."

"He has rendered good service, Mr. Hartley," replied another of them;
"good service to the government, sir, with every respect for your
wonderful liberality and honesty."

"What do you mean, sir?" asked Hartley, sternly; "do you throw out any
imputation against my honor or my honesty?"

"Oh, Lord, no--by no means; I have no relish at all for your cold lead,
Mr. Hartley--only that I don't think you stand the best chance in the
world of being returned for Castle Cumber, sir--that is all."

"Hartley," asked another, with a loud laugh, "is it true that your
cousin, on bringing a message to young Phil M'Clutchy, pulled his nose,
and kicked him _a posteriore_ round the room?"

"Ask his father, Dick," said Hartley, smiling; "I have heard he was
present, and, of course, he knows best."

"I say, Vulture," inquired the other, "is it true?"

"Ay," returned old Deaker, "as true as the nose on your face. That
precious Phil, was a cowardly whelp all his life--so was his father.
D--n you, sirra; where did you get your cowardice? I'm sure it was
not from me; that is if you be mine, which is a rather problematical
circumstance; for I take it you are as likely to be the descent of some
rascally turnkey or hatchman, and be hanged to you, as mine."

"Is it true, Val," persisted the former querist, "that young Hartley
pulled Phil's nose?"

"We have come here for other purposes, Dick," said Val. "Certainly Phil
did not wish to strike the young man in his own house, and had more
sense than to violate the peace in the presence of a magistrate, and
that magistrate his own father."

"How the devil did he put his comether on M'Loughlin's pretty daughter,
Val?" asked another from a different part of the room.

"That," said Deaker, "is the only spirited thing I ever knew him to
manage. Is it true, Val, that he was found in her bedroom?"

"It is certainly true," replied Val, with a smile of peculiar meaning;
"and with her own consent too."

"That's false, Val," replied Hartley; "and you know it. That he was in
her room for a couple of minutes is true; but that he was there for
any purpose prejudicial to her honor, that is, with her own consent,
is false. The whole thing was a cowa