“Come, come, none of this balderdash with me, Master Maurice. Has he bought the fellows already, or, rather, have you bought them? Out with it, man! What will he give? Name the sum, and let us treat the matter in a business-like way.” Scanlan sat down and laughed heartily for some minutes. “I think you know me well enough, Mr. Martin, by this time,” said he, “to say whether I'ma likely man to meddle with such a transaction.” “The very likeliest in Ireland; the man I 'd select amidst ten thousand.” “I am sorry to hear you say so, sir, that's all,” said the other, with a half-offended air; “nor do I see that anything in my past life warrants the imputation.” Martin turned fiercely round, about to make a reply which, if once uttered, would have ended all colloquy between them, when suddenly catching himself he said, “Have you taken any engagement with his Lordship?” “Not as yet, sir,--not formally, at least. My Lord has written me a very full statement of his ideas on politics, what he means to do, and so forth, and he seems to think that anything short of a very liberal line would not give satisfaction to the electors.” “Who told him so? Who said that the borough was not perfectly content with the representative that--that”--he stammered and faltered--“that its best friends had fixed upon to defend its interests? Who said that a member of my own family might not desire the seat?” This announcement, uttered with a tone very much akin to menace, failed to produce either the astonishment or terror that Martin looked for, and actually supposing that the expression had not been heard, he repeated it. “I say, sir, has any one declared that a Martin will not stand?” “I am not aware of it,” said Scanlan, quietly. “Well, sir,” cried Martin, as if unable to delineate the consequences, and wished to throw the weight of the duty on his opponent. “There would be a warm contest, no doubt, sir,” said Scanlan, guardedly. “No, sir; nor the shadow of a contest,” rejoined Martin, angrily. “You'll not tell _me_ that my own town--the property that has been in my family for seven centuries and more--would presume--that is, would desire--to--to--break the ties that have bound us to each other?” “I wish I could tell you my mind, Mr. Martin, without offending you; that is, I wish you 'd let me just say what my own opinion is, and take it for what it is worth, and in five minutes you 'd be in a better position to make up your mind about this matter than if we went on discussing it for a week.” There was a dash of independence in his utterance of these words that actually startled Martin; for, somehow, Scanlan had himself been surprised into earnestness by meeting with an energy on the other's part that he had never suspected; and thus each appeared in a new light to the other. “May I speak out? Well, then, here is what I have to say: the Relief Bill is passed, the Catholics are now emancipated--”