art, or the servants had gained some
courage, for we heard them dragging her delicately down the staircase.
Presently there was a silence.

After I had waited until this silence grew into the higher silence
which seems like perfect safety, I rang the bell and ordered food and
drink. Paddy had a royal meal, sitting on the floor by the fireplace
and holding a platter on his knee. From time to time I tossed him
something for which I did not care. He was very grateful for my
generosity. He ate in a barbaric fashion, crunching bones of fowls
between his great white teeth and swallowing everything.

I had a mind to discourse upon manners in order that Paddy might not
shame me when we came to London; for a gentleman is known by the ways
of his servants. If people of quality should see me attended by such
a savage they would put me down small. "Paddy," said I, "mend your
ways of eating."

"'My ways of eating,' your honour?" said he. "And am I not eating all
that I can hold? I was known to be a good man at platter always. Sure
I've seen no man in England eat more than me. But thank you kindly,
sir."

"You misunderstand me," said I. "I wish to improve your manner of
eating. It would not be fine enough for the sight of great people. You
eat, without taking breath, pieces as big as a block of turf."

"'Tis the custom in my part of Ireland," answered Paddy.

"I understand," said I. "But over here 'tis only very low people who
fall upon their meat from a window above."

"I am not in the way of understanding your honour," said he. "But any
how a man may be respectable and yet have a good hunger on him."

CHAPTER XIV

It had been said that the unexpected often happens, although I do not
know what learned man of the time succeeded in thus succinctly
expressing a great law and any how it matters little, for I have since
discovered that these learned men make one headful of brains go a long
way by dint of poaching on each other's knowledge. But the unexpected
happened in this case, all true enough whatever.

I was giving my man a bit of a warning.

"Paddy," said I, "you are big, and you are red, and you are Irish; but
by the same token you are not the great Fingal, son of lightning. I
would strongly give you the word. When you see that old woman you
start for the open moors."

"Devil fear me, sir," answered Paddy promptly. "I'll not be stopping.
I would be swimming to Ireland before she lays a claw on me."

"And m