“You, probably, are aware of the contents of this letter, Mr. O’Malley,” said he, in an altered voice, whose tones, half in anger, half in suppressed irony, cut to my very heart. “I am in complete ignorance of them,” said I, calmly. “Indeed, sir!” replied he, with a sarcastic curl of his mouth as he spoke. “Then, perhaps, you will tell me, too, that your very success is a secret to you--” “I’m really not aware--” “You think, probably, sir, that the pastime is an amusing one, to interfere where the affections of others are concerned. I’ve heard of you, sir. Your conduct at Lisbon is known to me; and though Captain Trevyllian may bear--” “Stop, Captain Hammersley!” said I, with a tremendous effort to be calm,--“stop! You have said enough, quite enough, to convince me of what your object was in seeking me here to-day. You shall not be disappointed. I trust that assurance will save you from any further display of temper.” “I thank you, most humbly I thank you for the quickness of your apprehension; and I shall now take my leave. Good-evening, Mr. O’Malley. I wish you much joy; you have my very fullest congratulations upon _all_ your good fortune.” The sneering emphasis the last words were spoken with remained fixed in my mind long after he took his departure; and, indeed, so completely did the whole seem like a dream to me that were it not for the fragments of the miniature that lay upon the ground where he had crushed them with his heel, I could scarcely credit myself that I was awake. My first impulse was to seek Power, upon whose judgment and discretion I could with confidence rely. I had not long to wait; for scarcely had I thrown my cloak around me, when he rode up. He had just seen, Hammersley, and learned something of our interview. “Why, Charley, my dear fellow, what is this? How have you treated poor Hammersley?” “Treated _him_! Say, rather, how has he treated _me!_” I here entered into a short but accurate account of our meeting, during which Power listened with great composure; while I could perceive, from the questions he asked, that some very different impression had been previously made upon his mind. “And this was all that passed?” “All.” “But what of the business at Lisbon?” “I don’t understand.” “Why, he speaks,--he has heard some foolish account of your having made some ridiculous speech there about your successful rivalry of him in Ireland. Lucy Dashwood, I suppose, is referred to. Some one has been good-natured enough to repeat the thing to him.” “But it never occurred. I never did.” “Are you sure, Charley?” “I am sure. I know I never did.” “The poor fellow! He has been duped. Come, Charley, you must not take it ill. Poor Hammersley has never recovered a sabre-wound he received some months since upon the head; his intellect is really affected by it. Leave it all to me. Promise not to leave your quarters till I return, and I’ll put everything right again.”