“Stop, Mick, hold your tongue!” said Nickie, to his over-zealous follower; while he muttered to himself, “My name is n't Anthony Nickie, or I 'll make her repent that speech! Ay, faith,” said he, aloud, as turning to the portrait of the Knight he appeared to address it, “you shall come to the hammer as the original did before you.” If Tate had understood the purport of this sarcasm, it is more than probable the discussion would have taken another form; as it was, he listened to Mr. Nickie's orders about the supper with due decorum, and retired to make the requisite preparations. “I will make a night of it, by-------,” exclaimed Nickie, as with clinched fist he struck the table before him. “I hope you know how to sing, Mick?” “I can do a little that way, sir,” grinned the ruffian, “when the company is pressin'. If it was n't too loud--” “Too loud! you may drown the storm out there, if ye 're able. But wait till we have the supper and the liquor before us, as they might cut off the supplies.” And with this prudent counsel, they suffered Tate to proceed in his arrangements, without uttering another word. CHAPTER XVIII. A CONVIVIAL EVENING While Tate busied himself in laying the table, Mr. Nickie, with bent brows and folded arms, passed up and down the apartments, still ruminating on the affront so openly passed upon him, and cogitating how best to avenge it. As passing and repassing he cast his eyes on the preparations, he halted suddenly, and said, “Lay another cover here.” Tate stood, uncertain whether he had heard aright the words, when Nickie repeated, “Don't you hear me? I said lay another cover. The gentleman will sup here.” “Oh! indeed,” exclaimed Tate, as, opening his eyes to the fullest extent, he appeared to admit a new light upon his brain; “I beg pardon, sir, I was thinking that this gentleman might like to sup with the other gentleman, out in the kitchen beyond!” “I said he 'd sup here,” said Nickie, vehemently, for he felt the taunt in all its bitterness. “I say, old fellow,” said M'Dermot in Tate's ear, “you needn't be sparin' of the liquor. Give us the best you have, and plenty of it. It is all the same to yer master, you know, in a few days. I was saying, sir,” said he to Nickie, who, overhearing him, turned sharply round,-“I was saying, sir, that he might as well give up the ould bin with the cobweb over it. It's the creditors suffers now, and we've many a way of doin' a civil turn.” “His mistress has shut the door on that,” said Nickie, savagely, “and she may take the consequences.” “Oh, never mind him,” whispered M'Dermot to Tate; “he 's the best-hearted crayture that ever broke bread, but passionate, d' ye mind, passionate.”