She fixed her eyes upon the victim of her husband's extortion, and in an instant they were filled with tears. “What did I do,” said the latter, “but strive to recover my own? How could I afford to lose forty pounds? An' I was tould for sartin that your father knew Grehan was goin' to Ameriky when he got him to go security. Whisht, Honora, you're as foolish a woman as riz this day; haven't you your sins to cry for?” “God knows I have, Fardorougha, an' more than my own to cry for.” “I dare say you did hear as much,” said Bartle, quietly replying to the observation of Fardorougha respecting his father; “but you know it's a folly to talk about spilt milk. If you want a sarvint I'll hire; for, as I said a while ago, I want a place, an' except wid you I don't know where to get one.” “If you come to me,” observed the other, “you must go to your duty, an' observe the fast days, but not the holydays.” “Sarvints isn't obliged to obsarve them,” replied Bartle. “But I always put it in the bargain,” returned the other. “As to that,” said Bartle, “I don't much mind it. Sure it'll be for the good o' my sowl, any way. But what wages will you be givin'?” “Thirty shillings every half year;--that's three pounds--sixty shillings a year. A great deal o' money. I'm sure I dunna where it's to come from.” “It's very little for a year's hard labor,” replied Bartle, “but little as it is, Fardorougha, owin' to what has happened betwixt us, believe me, I'm right glad to take it.” “Well, but Bartle, you know there's fifteen shillins of the ould account still due, and you must allow it out o' your wages; if you don't, it's no bargain.” Bartle's face became livid; but he was perfectly cool;--indeed, so much so that he smiled at this last condition of Fardorougha. It was a smile, however, at once so ghastly, dark, and frightful, that, by any person capable of tracing the secret workings of some deadly passion on the countenance, its purport could not have been mistaken. “God knows, Fardorougha, you might let that pass--considher that you've been hard enough upon us.” “God knows I say the same,” observed Honora. “Is it the last drop o' the heart's blood you want to squeeze out, Fardorougha?” “The last drop! What is it but my right? Am I robbin' him? Isn't it due? Will he, or can he deny that? An' if it's due isn't it but honest in him to pay it? They're not livin' can say I ever defrauded them of a penny. I never broke a bargain; an' yet you open on me, Honora, as if I was a rogue! If I hadn't that boy below to provide for, an' settle in the world, what 'ud I care about money? It's for his sake I look afther my right.” “I'll allow the money,” said Bartle. “Fardorougha's right; it's due, an' I'll pay him--ay will I, Fardorougha, settle wid you to the last farden, or beyant it if you like.” “I wouldn't take a farden beyant it, in the shape of debt. Them that's decent enough to make a present, may--for that's a horse of another color.”