The Absentee | Page 8

waiting to know the
sum of his friend's misfortune, a fat, jolly, Falstaff looking personage
came into the yard, accosted Mordicai with a degree of familiarity,
which, from a gentleman, appeared to Lord Colambre to be almost
impossible.
'How are you, Mordicai, my good fellow?' cried he, speaking with a
strong Irish accent.
'Who is this?' whispered Lord Colambre to the foreman, who was
examining the curricle.
'Sir Terence O'Fay, sir. There must be entire new wheels.'
'Now tell me, my tight fellow,' continued Sir Terence, holding Mordicai
fast, 'when, in the name of all the saints, good or bad, in the calendar,
do you reckon to let us sport the SUICIDE?'
Mordicai forcibly drew his mouth into what he meant for a smile, and
answered, 'As soon as possible, Sir Terence.'
Sir Terence, in a tone of jocose, wheedling expostulation, entreated him
to have the carriage finished OUT OF HAND. 'Ah, now! Mordy, my
precious! let us have it by the birthday, and come and dine with us o'
Monday, at the Hibernian Hotel--there's a rare one--will you?'
Mordicai accepted the invitation, and promised faithfully that the
SUICIDE should be finished by the birthday. Sir Terence shook hands
upon this promise, and, after telling a good story, which made one of
the workmen in the yard--an Irishman--grin with delight, walked off.
Mordicai, first waiting till the knight was out of hearing, called aloud--
'You grinning rascal! mind, at your peril, and don't let that there
carriage be touched, d'ye see, till further orders.'
One of Mr. Mordicai's clerks, with a huge long-feathered pen behind
his ear, observed that Mr. Mordicai was right in that caution, for that, to

the best of his comprehension, Sir Terence O'Fay and his principal, too,
were over head and ears in debt.
Mordicai coolly answered that he was well aware of that; but that the
estate could afford to dip further; that, for his part, he was under no
apprehension; he knew how to look sharp, and to bite before he was bit.
That he knew Sir Terence and his principal were leagued together to
give the creditors THE GO BY, but that, clever as they both were at
that work, he trusted he was their match.
'Will you be so good, sir, to finish making out this estimate for me?'
interrupted Lord Colambre.
'Immediately, sir. Sixty-nine pound four, and the perch. Let us see--Mr.
Mordicai, ask him, ask Paddy, about Sir Terence,' said the foreman,
pointing back over his shoulder to the Irish workman, who was at this
moment pretending to be wondrous hard at work. However, when Mr.
Mordicai defied him to tell him anything he did not know, Paddy,
parting with an untasted bit of tobacco, began, and recounted some of
Sir Terence O'Fay's exploits in evading duns, replevying cattle, fighting
sheriffs, bribing SUBS, managing cants, tricking CUSTODEES, in
language so strange, and with a countenance and gestures so full of
enjoyment of the jest, that, whilst Mordicai stood for a moment aghast
with astonishment, Lord Colambre could not help laughing, partly at,
and partly with, his countryman. All the yard were in a roar of laughter,
though they did not understand half of what they heard; but their risible
muscles were acted upon mechanically, or maliciously, merely by the
sound of the Irish brogue.
Mordicai, waiting till the laugh was over, dryly observed that 'the law is
executed in another guess sort of way in England from what it is in
Ireland'; therefore, for his part, he desired nothing better than to set his
wits fairly against such SHARKS. That there was a pleasure in doing
up a debtor which none but a creditor could know.
'In a moment, sir; if you'll have a moment's patience, sir, if you please,'
said the slow foreman to Lord Colambre; 'I must go down the pounds
once more, and then I'll let you have it.'

'I'll tell you what, Smithfield,' continued Mr. Mordicai, coming close
beside his foreman, and speaking very low, but with a voice trembling
with anger, for he was piqued by his foreman's doubts of his capacity to
cope with Sir Terence O'Fay; 'I'll tell you what, Smithfield, I'll be
cursed, if I don't get every inch of them into my power. You know
how?'
'You are the best judge, sir,' replied the foreman; 'but I would not
undertake Sir Terence; and the question is, whether the estate will
answer the LOT of the debts, and whether you know them all for
certain?'
'I do, sir, I tell you. There's Green there's Blancham-- there's
Gray--there's Soho--naming several more--and, to my knowledge, Lord
Clonbrony--'
'Stop, sir," cried Lord Colambre in a voice which made Mordicai, and
everybody present, start--'I am his son--'
'The devil!' said Mordicai.
'God bless every bone in his body,