Sewell sat down on the chair nearest him, sick and faint; a cold clammy sweat broke over his face and temples, and he felt the horrible nausea of intense weakness. “Tell me,” said he at last, with a great effort to seem calm, “just the words he said, as nearly as you can recall them.” “It was what I told your honor. 'Is Colonel Sewell here? Is there no means of knowing when he may be found here?' And then when I'd say, 'What name am I to give? who is it I 'm to say called?' his answer would be, 'That is no concern of yours. It is for me to leave my name or not, as it pleases me.' I was going to remind him that he once lodged in my house at Cullen's Wood, but I thought better of it, and said nothing.” “Did he speak of calling again?” “No, but he came yesterday; and whether he thought I was denying your honor or not I don't know, but he sat down in the waiting-room and smoked a cigar there, and heard two or three come in and ask for you and get the same answer.” Sewell groaned heavily, and covered his face with his hands. “I think,” said O'Reardon, with a half-hesitating, timid manner, as though it was a case where any blunder would be very awkward, “that if it was how that this man was any trouble,--I mean any sort of an inconvenience to your honor,--and that it was displeasing to your honor to have any dealings with him, I think I could find a way to make him cut his stick and leave the country; or if he would n't do that, come to worse luck here.” “What do you mean,--have you anything against him?” cried Sewell, with a wild eagerness. “If I 'm not much mistaken, I can soon have against him as much as his life 's worth.” “If you could,” said Sewell, clutching both his arms, and staring him fixedly in the face,--“if you could! I mean, if you could rid me of him, now and forever,--I don't care how, and I 'll not ask how,--only do it; and I 'll swear to you there 's nothing in my power to serve you I 'll refuse doing,--nothing!” “What 's between your honor and him?” said O'Reardon, with an assurance that his present power suggested. “How dare you ask me, sir? Do you imagine that when I take such a fellow as you into my service, I make him my confidant and my friend?” “That's true, sir,” said the other, whose face only grew paler under this insult, while his manner regained all its former subserviency,--“that's true, sir. My interest about your honor made me forget myself; and I was thinking how I could be most use to you. But, as your honor says, it's no business of mine at all.” “None whatever,” said Sewell, sternly; for a sudden suspicion had crossed him of what such a fellow as this might become if once intrusted with the power of a secret. “Then it's better, your honor,” said he, with a slavish whine, “that I 'd keep to what I 'm fit for,--sweeping out the office, and taking the messages, and the like, and not try things that 's above me.”