“Very well, Johnson. I have an invitation for you, in my pocket, to the ball--and I have a cheque in my pocket, which is better than money. You shall neither have the one nor the other till I have that paper in my own hands.” “Give and take then, Master Eddy,” said the other. “You ass, keep down the muzzle of your gun! No. I must have it in my hands to see it’s all right before I let you touch the other. Oh, just as you please! but that’s my last word.” “You don’t suppose I carry it about in my pocket,” said Johnson. “I suppose nothing. I only tell you what I’ll do. Give it me that I may see its right and the genuine thing, and you shall have the cheque, which is as good a cheque as any in the world, whatever the other may be.” “You might play me some tricks, or stop it at the bank,” said Johnson. “By Jove, that’s an idea. I’ll do so, if you don’t look sharp with that other thing.” “Well,” said Johnson, “if that’s how it is to be, I’ll bring it up to you to-morrow morning to the house--and then you can introduce me to the ladies. I ought to know them first, before I come to the dance.” “No,” said Eddy, “you can come to the ball, where it will be fun: but if you come near the house till the night of the ball, I’ll let off my gun by accident, as you’ll do presently if you don’t mind, and take your wretched life. Now, you hear. You can come to old Rankin’s cottage in the wood to-morrow, if you like, at twelve. You can say you want a dog--he’ll not let you have it, for he never sells them to cads; but it will do for an excuse.” “By Jove,” said Johnson, “if you don’t mind what you say, I’ve got a gun, and I can have an accident too.” “Put it down, you ass!” cried Eddy, striking down the muzzle of the gun, which, in the confusion, went off, nearly knocking down by the concussion the unfortunate Johnson, and ploughing into the heather and mossy soil. The neophyte thought he had killed somebody, and fell down on his wretched knees. “I swear to God I never meant nothing. I never meant to ‘it any man,” he cried. “Oh, get up, you brute, and hold your tongue,” cried Eddy. He added, shaking him by the shoulder, “if you talk when you’re at Rosmore, you’ll be turned out of the house. I’ve told them you speak nothing but Latin--mind you hold your tongue if you don’t want to do for both yourself and me.” CHAPTER XXXII. Eddy took his morning walk to Rankin’s cottage next day; but he did not meet any one there. He went in and endeavoured to treat with the old gamekeeper for a dog, but found the old man quite indisposed for any such negotiation.