"By all means," replied Titus. Jack accordingly arose; and a butler answering the summons, a long-necked bottle was soon placed before them. "You heard of the affray last night, I presume?" said Jack, renewing the conversation. "With the poachers? To be sure I did. Wasn't I called in to examine Hugh Badger's wounds the first thing this morning; and a deep cut there was, just over the eye, besides other bruises." "Is the wound dangerous?" inquired Palmer. "Not exactly mortal, if you mean that," replied the Irishman; "dangerous, certainly." "Humph!" exclaimed Jack; "they'd a pretty hardish bout of it, I understand. Anything been heard of the body?" "What body?" inquired Small, who was half-dozing. "The body of the drowned poacher," replied Jack; "they were off to search for it this morning." "Found it--not they!" exclaimed Titus. "Ha, ha!--I can't help laughing, for the life and _sowl_ of me; a capital trick he played 'em,--capital--ha, ha! What do you think the fellow did? Ha, ha!--after leading 'em the devil's dance, all around the park, killing a hound as savage as a wolf, and breaking Hugh Badger's head, which is as hard and thick as a butcher's block, what does the fellow do but dive into a pool, with a great rock hanging over it, and make his way to the other side, through a subterranean cavern, which nobody knew anything about, till they came to drag it, thinking him snugly drowned all the while--ha, ha!" "Ha, ha, ha!" chorused Jack; "bravo! he's a lad of the right sort--ha, ha!" "He! who?" inquired the attorney. "Why, the poacher, to be sure," replied Jack; "who else were we talking about?" "Beg pardon," returned Coates; "I thought you might have heard some intelligence. We've got an eye upon him. We know who it was." "Indeed!" exclaimed Jack; "and who was it?" "A fellow known by the name of Luke Bradley." "Zounds!" cried Titus, "you don't say it was he? Murder in Irish! that bates everything; why, he was Sir Piers's----" "Natural son," replied the attorney; "he has not been heard of for some time--shockingly incorrigible rascal--impossible to do anything with him." "You don't say so?" observed Jack. "I've heard Sir Piers speak of the lad; and, by his account, he's as fine a fellow as ever crossed tit's back; only a little wildish and unreasonable, as the best of us may be; wants breaking, that's all. Your skittish colt makes the best horse, and so would he. To speak the truth, I'm glad he escaped." "So am I," rejoined Titus; "for, in the first place, I've a foolish partiality for poachers, and am sorry when any of 'em come to hurt; and, in the second, I'd be mighty displeased if any ill had happened to one of Sir Piers's flesh and blood, as this young chap appears to be."