“No, sir, a light chariot it is; but he likes to go fast.” “And so do I--when I can,” muttered Forester, the last words being an addition almost independent of him. “Could n't you tell him that there's a gentleman here very much pressed to push on, and would take it as a great favor if he'd divide the team?” “To be sure, sir, I'll go and speak to him,” said the waiter, as he hurried away on the errand. “I see how it is, sir,” said Linwood, who, with true servant dexterity, thought to turn his master's anger into any other channel than towards himself, “they wants to get you to stop the night here.” “Confound this trickery! I'll pay what they please for the horses, only let us have them.--Well, waiter, what does he say?” “He says, sir,” said the waiter, endeavoring to suppress a laugh, “if you 'll come in and join him at supper, you shall have whatever you like.” “Join him at supper! No, no; I'm hurried, I'm anxious to get forward, and not the least hungry besides.” “Hadn't you better speak a word to him, anyhow?” said the waiter, half opening the parlor door. And Forester, accepting the suggestion, entered. [Illustration: 041] In the little low-ceilinged apartment of the small inn, at a table very amply and as temptingly covered, sat a large and, for his age, singularly handsome man. A forehead both high and broad surmounted two clear blue eyes, whose brilliancy seemed to defy the wear of time; regular and handsome teeth; and a complexion the very type of health appeared to vouch for a strength of constitution rare at his advanced age. His dress was the green coat so commonly worn by country gentlemen, with leather breeches and boots, nor, though the season was winter, did he appear to have any great-coat, or other defence against the weather. He was heaping some turf upon the fire as Forester entered, and, laughingly interrupting the operation, he stood up and bowed courteously. “I have taken a great liberty, sir, first, to suppose that any man at this hour of the night is not the worse for something to eat and drink; and, secondly, that he might have no objection to partake of either in my company.” Forester was not exactly prepared for a manner so palpably that of the best society, and, at once repressing every sign of his former impatience, replied by apologizing for a request which might inconvenience the granter. “Let me help you to this grouse-pie, and fill yourself a glass of sherry; and by the time you have taken some refreshment, the horses will be put to. I am most happy to offer you a seat.” “I am afraid there is a mistake somewhere,” said Forester, half timidly. “I heard you had engaged the only four horses here, and as my carriage is without, my request was to obtain two if you--” “But why not come with me? I 'm pressed, and must be up, if possible, before morning. Remember, we are forty-eight miles from Dublin.” “Dublin! But I'm going the very opposite road. I'm for Westport.”