“It is only just,” said Darcy, gravely, “to a gentleman who takes such pains to inform himself on the affairs of his neighbors, that I should tell you that Mr. Bagenal Daly is not a pirate, nor am I a wrecker. I am sure you will be generous enough for this unasked information not to require of me a more lengthened account either of my friend or myself.” “You 're in the Revenue, perhaps?” interrupted the undaunted Dempsey; “I thought so when I saw you first.” Darcy shook his head in dissent. “Wrong again. Ah! I see it all; the old story. Saw better days--you have just come down here to lie snug and quiet, out of the way of writs and latitats--went too fast--by Jove, that touches myself too! If I hadn't happened to have a grandfather, I 'd have been a rich man this day. Did you ever chance to hear of Dodd and Dempsey, the great wine-merchants? My father was son of Dodd and Dempsey,--that is Dempsey, you know; and it was his father-Sam Dempsey--ruined him.” “No very uncommon circumstance,” said the Knight, sorrowfully, “for an Irish father.” “You 've heard the story, I suppose?--of course you have; every one knows it.” “I rather think not,” said the Knight, who was by no means sorry to turn Mr. Dempsey from cross-examination into mere narrative. “I 'll tell it to you; I am sure I ought to know it well, I 've heard my father relate it something like a hundred times.” “I fear I must decline so pleasant a proposal,” said Darcy, smiling. “At this moment I have an engagement.” “Never mind. To-morrow will do just as well,” interrupted the inexorable Dempsey. “Come over and take your mutton-chop with me at five, and you shall have the story into the bargain.” “I regret that I cannot accept so very tempting an invitation,” said Darcy, struggling between his sense of pride and a feeling of astonishment at his companion's coolness. “Not come to dinner!” exclaimed Dempsey, as if the thing was scarcely credible. “Oh, very well, only remember”--and here he put an unusual gravity into his words--“only remember the _onus_ is now on you.” The Knight burst into a hearty laugh at this subtle retort, and, willing as he ever was to go with the humor of the moment, replied,-- “I am ready to accept it, sir, and beg that you will dine with me.” “When and where?” said Dempsey. “To-morrow, at that cottage yonder: five is your hour, I believe--we shall say five.” “Booked!” exclaimed Dempsey, with an air of triumph; while he muttered, with a scarcely subdued voice, “Knew I'd do it!--never failed in my life!” “Till then, Mr. Dempsey,” said Darcy, removing his hat courteously, as he bowed to him,--“till then--” “Your most obedient,” replied Dempsey, returning the salute; and so they parted.