“So it is, man, but can't we move for a new trial?” So saying, he turned suddenly about, and pulled the bell. M'Dermot said nothing, but stood staring at his chief, with a well-feigned expression of wonderment, as though to say, “What is he going to do next?” The summons was speedily answered by old Tate, who stood in respectful attention within the door. Not the slightest suspicion had crossed the butler's mind of Mr. Nickie's calling, or of his object with the Knight, or his manner would certainly have displayed a very different politeness. “Didn't you ring, sir?” said he, with a bow to Nickie, who now seemed vacillating, and uncertain how to proceed. “Yes--I did--ring--the--bell,” replied he, hesitating between each word of the sentence. “I was about to say that, as the night was so severe,--a perfect hurricane it seems,--I should remain here. Eh, did you speak?” “No, sir,” replied Tate, respectfully. “You can inform your mistress, then, and say, with Mr. Nickie's respectful compliments,-mind that!--that if they have no objection, he would be happy to join them at supper.” Tate stood as if transfixed, not a sign of anger, not even of surprise in his features. The shock had actually stupefied him. “Do ye hear what the gentleman 's saying to you?” asked Mick, in a stern voice. “Sir?” said Tate, endeavoring to recover his routed faculties,--“sir?” “Tell the old fool what I said,” muttered Nickie, with angry impatience; and then, as if remembering that his message might possibly be not over-courteously worded by Mr. M'Dennot, he approached Tate, and said, “Give your mistress Mr. Nickie's compliments, and say that, not being able to return to Coleraine, he hopes he may be permitted to pass the evening with her and Miss Darcy.” This message, uttered with great rapidity, as if the speaker dare not trust himself with more deliberation, was accompanied by a motion of the hand, which half pushed the old butler from the room. Neither Mr. Nickie nor his subordinate exchanged a word during Tate's absence. The former, indeed, seemed far less confident of his success than at first, and M'Dermot waited the issue, for his cue what part to take in the transaction. If Tate's countenance, when he left the room, exhibited nothing but confusion and bewilderment, when he reentered it his looks were composed and steadfast. “Well?” said Nickie, as the old butler stood for a second without speaking,--“well?” “Her Ladyship says that you and the other men, sir, may receive any accommodation the house affords.” He paused for a moment or two, and then added, “Her Ladyship declines Mr. Nickie's society.” “Did she give you that message herself?” asked Nickie, hastily; “are those her own words?” “Them's her words,” said Tate, dryly. “I never heerd the likes--”