Then Mr. Persse rode into the yard,--that Mr. Persse who, when the hounds met at Ballytowngal, had so strongly dissuaded Daly from using his pistol. He was a man who was reputed to have a good income, or at any rate a large estate,--though the two things at the present moment were likely to have a very various meaning. But he was a man less despondent in his temperament than Tom Daly, and one that was likely to prevail with Tom by the strength of his character. "Well, Tom," said Persse, as he walked into the house, "how are things using you now? How are you, Jones? I'm afraid your father is getting it rather hot at Morony Castle." "They've boycotted us, that's all." "So I understand. Is it not odd that some self-appointed individual should send out an edict, and that suddenly all organised modes of living among people should be put a stop to! Here's Tom not allowed to get a packet of greaves into his establishment unless he sends to Dublin for it." "Nor to have it sent over here," said Tom, "unless I'll send my own horse and cart to fetch it. And every man and boy I have about the place is desired to leave me at the command of some d----d O'Toole, whose father kept a tinker's shop somewhere in County Mayo, and whose mother took in washing." There was a depth of scorn intended to be conveyed by all this, because in Daly's estimation County Mayo was but a poor county to live in, as it had not for many a year possessed an advertised pack of fox-hounds. And the O'Tooles were not one of the tribes of Galway, or a clan especially esteemed in that most aristocratic of the western counties. "Have all the helpers gone?" "I haven't asked them to stay; but unless they have stayed of their own accord I have just shaken hands with them. It's all that one gentleman can do to another when he meets him." "Mr. Daly is talking of selling the hounds," said Frank Jones. "Not quite yet, Tom," said Mr. Persse. "You mustn't do anything in a hurry." "They'll have to starve if they remain here," said the master of hounds. "I have come over here to say a word about them. I don't suppose this kind of thing will last for ever, you know." "Can you see any end to it?" said the other. "Not as yet I can't, except that troubles when they come generally do have an end. We always think that evils will last for ever,--and blessings too. When two-year-old ewes went up to three pound ten at Ballinasloe, we thought that we were to get that price for ever, but they were soon down to two seventeen six; and when we had had two years of the potato famine, we thought that there would never be another potato in County Galway. For the last five years we've had them as fine at Doneraile as ever I saw them. Nobody is ever quite ruined, or quite has his fortune made." "I am very near the ruin," said Tom Daly. "I would struggle to hold on a little longer yet," said the other. "How many horses have you got here and at Ahaseragh?"