“If you're a-goin', I've nothing more to say, sir,” said Quackinboss. “I cannot see what there is to detain me here!” said the other, sternly. “There ain't much, that's a fact,” was the cool reply. “There's nothing remarkable in them bottles; it's new brandy and British gin; and as for myself, sir, I can only say I must give you a bill payable at sight,-- whenever we may meet again, I mean; for just now this young man here can't spare me. I 'm his nurse, you see. I hope you understand me?” “I believe I do.” “Well, that's all right, stranger, and here's my hand on 't.” And even before O'Shea was well aware, the other had taken his hand in his strong grasp and was shaking it heartily. O'Shea found it very hard not to laugh outright, but there was a meaning-like determination in the American's manner that showed it was no moment for mirth. It was, however, necessary to say something to relieve a very awkward pause, and so he observed,-- “I hope Mr. Layton's illness is not a serious one. I saw him, as I thought, perfectly well two days back.” “He's main bad, sir; very sick,--very sick, indeed.” “You have a doctor, I suppose?” “No, sir. I have some experience myself, and I 'm just a-treatin' him by what I picked up among people that have very few apothecaries,--the Mandan Indians.” “Without being particular, I must own I 'd prefer a more civilized course of physic,” said O'Shea, with a faint smile. “Very likely, stranger; and if you had a dispute, you 'd rather, mayhap, throw it into a law court, and leave it to three noisy fellows to quarrel over; while _I_'d look out for two plain fellows, with horny hands and honest hearts, and say, 'What's the rights o' this, gentlemen?'” “I wish you every success, I'm sure,” said O'Shea, bowing. “The same to you, sir,” said the other, in a sing-song tone. “Good-bye.” When O'Shea had reached the first landing, he stopped, and, leaning against the wall, laughed heartily. “I hope I 'll be able to remember all he said,” muttered he, as he fancied himself amusing some choice company by a personation of the Yankee. “The whole thing was as good as a play! But,” added he, after a pause, “I 'm not sorry it's over, and that I have done with him!” Very true and heartfelt was this last reflection of the Member for Inch,--a far more honest recognition than even the hearty laugh he had just enjoyed,--and then there came an uneasy afterthought, that asked, “What could he mean by talking of a long bill, payable at some future opportunity? Surely he can't imagine that we 're to renew all this if we ever meet again. No, no, Colonel, your manners and your medicine may be learned amongst the Mandans, but they won't do here with us!” And so he issued into the street, not quite reassured, but somewhat more comforted.