Battle, murder, and sudden death—and an old chap like McClintock tuning his piano in the midst of it. Ann Veronica jumped up to get her the cardtable. The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. This was the bitterest hour he had ever known. It was lent me by a countryman o' mine; but I paid him back in his own coin—ha! ha!" "A countryman of yours, Terry?" "Ay, and a noble one, too, Quilt—more's the pity! You've heard of the Marquis of Slaughterford, belike?" "Of course; who has not? He's the leader of the Mohocks, the general of the Scourers, the prince of rakes, the friend of the surgeons and glaziers, the terror of your tribe, and the idol of the girls!" "That's him to a hair?" cried Terence, rapturously.
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