The old gentleman appeared much more imbecile than when I last saw him.
I thanked him, folded up the letter, and put it in my pocket. At last he
looked at me, and a sudden flash of recollection appeared to come across
his mind.
"Well child so you escaped from the French prison--heh! and how's your
friend--what is his name, heh?"
"O'Brien, my lord."
"O'Brien!" cried my uncle, "he is _your_ friend; then, sir, I presume it
is to you that I am indebted for all the inquiries and reports which are
so industriously circulated in Ireland--the tampering with my servants--
and other impertinences?"
I did not choose to deny the truth, although I was a little fluttered by
the sudden manner in which it came to light. I replied, "I never tamper
with any people's servants, sir."
"No," said he, "but you employ others so to do. I discovered the whole
of your proceedings after the scoundrel left for England."
"If you apply the word scoundrel _to_ Captain O'Brien, sir, in his name
I contradict it."
"As you please, sir," replied my uncle, in a passion; "but you will
oblige me by quitting this house immediately, and expect nothing more,
either from the present or the future Lord Privilege, except that
retaliation which your infamous conduct has deserved."
I felt much irritated, and replied very sharply, "From the present Lord
Privilege I certainly expect nothing more, neither do I from his
successor; but after your death, uncle, I expect that the person who
succeeds to the title will do all he can for your humble servant.
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