ceeded to unharness the mare with the greatest despatch. My attention was, however, soon turned from him to my own more immediate concerns, and I followed my companion into the house.
“Joe,” said the Count to the host, “is Mr. Bodkin up at the house this morning?”
“He’s just passed this way, sir, with Mr. Malowney of Tillnamuck, in the gig, on their way from Me, Blake’s. They stopped here to order horses to go over to O’Malley Castle, and the gossoon is gone to look for a pair.”
“All right,” said Considine; and added in a whisper, “We’ve done it well, Charley, to be beforehand, or the governor would have found it all out, and taken the affair into his own hands. Now, all you’ve to do is, to stay quietly here till I come back, which will not be above an hour at farthest. Joe, send me the pony—keep an eye on Patsey, that he doesn’t play us a trick—the short way to Mr. Bodkin’s is through Scariff—ay, I know it well; good-bye, Charley—by the Lord, we’ll pepper him!”
These were the last words of the worthy Count as he closed the door behind him, and left me to my own not over-agreeable reflections. Independently of my youth and perfect ignorance of the world, which left me unable to form any correct judgment on my conduct, I knew that I had taken a great deal of wine, and was highly excited when my unhappy collision with Mr. Bodkin occurred. Whether, then, I had been betrayed into anything which could fairly have provoked his insulting retort or not, I could not remember; and now my most afflicting thought was, what opinion might be entertained of me by those at Blake’s table; and, above all, what Miss Dashwood herself would have, and what narrative of the occurrence would reach her. The great effort of my last few days had been to stand well in her estimation, to appear something better in feeling, something higher in principle, than the rude and unpolished squirearchy about me; and now here was the end of it! What would she, what could she think, but that I was the same punch-drinking, rowing, quarreling bampkin as those whom I had so lately been carefully endeavouring to separate myself from? How I hated myself for the excess to which passion had betrayed me, and how I detested my opponent as the cause of all my present misery! How very differently, thought I, her friend the Captain would have conducted himself. His quiet and _gentlemanly manner would have done fully as much to wipe out an insult on his honour as I could do, and after all, would neither have disturbed the harmony of a dinner-table, nor made himself, as I shuddered to think I had, a subject of rebuke, if not of ridicule. These harassing, torturing reflections continued to press on me, and I paced the room with my bands clasped and the perspiration upon my brow. “One thing is certain—I can never see her again,” thought I; “this disgraceful business must, in some shape or other, become known to her, and all I have been saying these last three days rise up in judgment against this one act, and stamp me an impostor; I that decried, nay derided, our false notions of honour. Would that Considine were come! What can keep him now?” I walked to the door: a boy belonging to the house was walking the roan before the door. What had then become of