Part 11 (1/2)
”Well,” I replied, ”that is more than I can say as to the cask. Best cognac, three stars, is five francs fifty centimes a bottle.”
”That's a long price. But one star?”
”I cannot say; I never bought that. Possibly three francs and a half.”
”And how many bottles to a cask?”
”I am not sure, something over two hundred litres.”
”Two hundred three s.h.i.+llings,” mused Mr. Fergus; and then looking up, ”there is the duty in England, very heavy on spirits, and charges for the digging-up, and fees to the officials, and the transport by water----” He shook his head.
”You must remember,” said I, ”that your relative is subjected to great indignities from those legs, getting toed three or four times round the enclosure.” I said three or four, but I believe it was only twice or thrice. ”It hardly comports with the family honour to suffer it.”
”I think,” replied Mr. Fergus, ”that you said it was but the speeritual presentment of a boot, and that there was no pheesical inconvenience felt, only a speeritual impression?”
”Just so.”
”For my part, judging from my personal experience,” said the laird, ”speeritual impressions are most evanescent.”
”Then,” said I, ”Captain Alister's trunk lies in a foreign land.”
”But not,” replied he, ”in Roman Catholic consecrated soil. That is a great satisfaction.”
”You, however, have the trunk of a Roman Catholic in your family vault.”
”It is so, according to what you say. But there are a score of McAlisters there, all staunch Presbyterians, and if it came to an argument among them--I won't say he would not have a leg to stand on, as he hasn't those anyhow, but he would find himself just nowhere.”
Then Mr. Fergus McAlister stood up and said: ”Shall we join the ladies?
As to what you have said, sir, and have recommended, I a.s.sure you that I will give it my most serious consideration.”
THE LEADEN RING
”It is not possible, Julia. I cannot conceive how the idea of attending the county ball can have entered your head after what has happened. Poor young Hattersley's dreadful death suffices to stop that.”
”But, aunt, Mr. Hattersley is no relation of ours.”
”No relation--but you know that the poor fellow would not have shot himself if it had not been for you.”
”Oh, Aunt Elizabeth, how can you say so, when the verdict was that he committed suicide when in an unsound condition of mind? How could I help his blowing out his brains, when those brains were deranged?”
”Julia, do not talk like this. If he did go off his head, it was you who upset him by first drawing him on, leading him to believe that you liked him, and then throwing him over so soon as the Hon. James Lawlor appeared on the _tapis_. Consider: what will people say if you go to the a.s.sembly?”
”What will they say if I do not go? They will immediately set it down to my caring deeply for James Hattersley, and they will think that there was some sort of engagement.”
”They are not likely to suppose that. But really, Julia, you were for a while all smiles and encouragement. Tell me, now, did Mr. Hattersley propose to you?”
”Well--yes, he did, and I refused him.”
”And then he went and shot himself in despair. Julia, you cannot with any face go to the ball.”