He explained the wager, and begged the custom-house officer to keep his secret, which he promised to do faithfully, and assured him, “that he should be happy to do any thing in his power to serve him.” Whilst he was uttering these last words, there came in a snug, but soft-looking Englishman, who opining from the words “happy to do any thing in my power to serve you,” that O’Mooney was a friend of the custom-house officer’s, and encouraged by something affable and good-natured in our hero’s countenance, crept up to him, and whispered a request--“Could you tell a body, sir, how to get out of the custom-house a very valuable box of Sèvre china that has been _laying_ in the custom-house three weeks, and which I was commissioned to get out if I could, and bring up to town for a lady.” As a lady was in the case, O’Mooney’s gallantry instantly made his good-nature effective. The box of Sèvre china was produced, and opened only as a matter of form, and only as a matter of curiosity its contents were examined--a beautiful set of Sèvre china and a pendule, said to have belonged to M. Egalité! “These things must be intended,” said Phelim, “for some lady of superior taste or fortune.” As Phelim was a proficient in the Socratic art of putting judicious interrogatories, he was soon happily master of the principal points it concerned him to know: he learnt that the lady was rich--a spinster--of full age--at her own disposal--living with a single female companion at Blackheath--furnishing a house there in a superior style--had two carriages--her Christian name Mary--her surname Sharperson. O’Mooney, by the blessing of God, it shall soon he, thought Phelim. He politely offered the Englishman a place in his chaise for himself and Sèvre china, as it was for a lady, and would run great hazard in the stage, which besides was full. Mr. Queasy, for that was our soft Englishman’s name, was astonished by our hero’s condescension and affability, especially as he heard him called Sir John: he bowed sundry times as low as the fear of losing his wig would permit, and accepted the polite offer with many thanks for himself and the lady concerned. Sir John Bull’s chaise and four was soon ready; and Queasy seated in the corner of it, and the Sèvre china safely stowed between his knees. Captain Murray, a Scotch officer, was standing at the inn-door, with his eyes intently fixed on the letters that were worked in nails on the top of Sir John’s trunk; the letters were P. O’M. Our hero, whose eyes were at least as quick as the Scotchman’s, was alarmed lest this should lead to a second detection. He called instantly, with his usual presence of mind, to the ostler, and desired him to uncord _that_ trunk, as it was not to go with him; raising his voice loud enough for all _the yard_ to hear, he added--“It is not mine at all; it belongs to my friend, Mr. O’Mooney: let it be sent after me, at leisure, by the waggon, as directed, to the care of Sir John Bull.”