Mordicai coolly answered, that he was well aware of that, but that the estate could afford to dip farther; that, for his part, he was under no apprehension; he knew how to look sharp, and to bite before he was bit: that he knew Sir Terence and his principal were leagued together to give the creditors _the go by_; but that, clever as they were both at that work, he trusted he was their match. “Immediately, sir--Sixty-nine pound four, and the perch--Let us see--Mr. Mordicai, ask him, ask Paddy, about Sir Terence,” said the foreman, pointing back over his shoulder to the Irish workman, who was at this moment pretending to be wondrous hard at work. However, when Mr. Mordicai defied him to tell him any thing he did not know, Paddy, parting with an untasted bit of tobacco, began and recounted some of Sir Terence O’Fay’s exploits in evading duns, replevying cattle, fighting sheriffs, bribing _subs_, managing cants, tricking _custodees_, in language so strange, and with a countenance and gestures so full of enjoyment of the jest, that, whilst Mordicai stood for a moment aghast with astonishment, Lord Colambre could not help laughing, partly at, and partly with, his countryman. All the yard were in a roar of laughter, though they did not understand half of what they heard; but their risible muscles were acted upon mechanically, or maliciously, merely by the sound of the Irish brogue. Mordicai, waiting till the laugh was over, dryly observed, that “the law is executed in another guess sort of way in England from what it is in Ireland;” therefore, for his part, he desired nothing better than to set his wits fairly against such _sharks_--that there was a pleasure in doing up a debtor, which none but a creditor could know. “In a moment, sir; if you’ll have a moment’s patience, sir, if you please,” said the slow foreman to Lord Colambre; “I must go down the pounds once more, and then I’ll let you have it.” “I’ll tell you what, Smithfield,” continued Mr. Mordicai, coming close beside his foreman, and speaking very low, but with a voice trembling with anger, for he was piqued by his foreman’s doubts of his capacity to cope with Sir Terence O’Fay; “I’ll tell you what, Smithfield, I’ll be cursed if I don’t get every inch of them into my power--you know how.” “You are the best judge, sir,” replied the foreman; “but I would not undertake Sir Terence; and the question is, whether the estate will answer the _tote_ of the debts, and whether you know them all for certain--” “I do, sir, I tell you: there’s Green--there’s Blancham--there’s Gray--there’s Soho”--naming several more--“and, to my knowledge, Lord Clonbrony--” “Stop, sir,” cried Lord Colambre, in a voice which made Mordicai and every body present start;--“I am his son--” “The devil!” said Mordicai. “God bless every bone in his body, then, he’s an Irishman!” cried Paddy; “and there was the _ra_son my heart warmed to him from the first minute he come into the yard, though I did not know it till now.”