TheCompleteMemoirsOfGeorgeSherston

worthy and I were completely out of the picture (I,
because I felt shy, and Kegworthy because he was in
a condition verging on stupor). Meanwhile Finnigan,
elderly and foxy-faced, leant his elbows on the bar
and held forth about the troubled state of the coun-
try. "There'll be houses burnt and lives lost before
the year's ended," he said, "and you officers, friends
of Mr. Blarnett's though you be, had better be out of
Ireland than in it, if you set value on your skins." A
gruff murmur greeted this utterance, and I took a sip
of my whisky, which half-choked me and tasted
strong of smoke. But The Mister remained seraphi-
cally unperturbed. He rose unsteadily, was helped
into his overcoat, and then muttered the following
valediction: "Pd be remaining among you a while
longer, boys, but there's company expected at Mrs.
O'Donnell's, and it's my tuxedo I'll be wearing to-
night and the pearl studs to my shirt." Swaying
slightly, he seemed to be collecting his thoughts for a
final effort of speech; having done so, he delivered the
following cryptic axiom: "In politics and religion, be
pleasant to both sides. Sure, we'll all be dead drunk
on the Day of Judgment." Table-thumpings and
other sounds of approval accompanied him as he
staggered to the door, having previously emptied all
his loose silver into the hand of his old friend Finni-
gan. During the last stage of the journey he was
warblesome, singing to himself in a tenor crooning
that seemed to come from a long way off. I entered
Mrs. O'DonnelPs door with one of them on each arm.

Explanations were unnecessary when she met us in
the hall. A single glance showed her how the day's
hunting had ended. I had brought them back, and
they were both of them blind to the world.

This was unfortunate, and should have precluded
710