'She is not worthy of you, blackey. Lord save us! Well, troth, I
remimber whin you wor in Lord S--"s, you were a fine young man of your
color. I did something for the young lord in my way then, an" I used to
say, when I called to see her, that you wor a beauty, barrin" the face.
Sure enough, there was no lie in that. Well, that was before you tuck
to the fightin"; but I"m ravin". Whisper, man. If you doubt what I"m
sayin", watch the north corner of the orchard about nine to-night, an"
you"ll see a meetin" between her an" O"Rorke. God be wid you! I must
go.'
