Most of it was
mumbled.

"Sure I've gone and caught as little and as black a man as is in the
whole world, and was keeping the scoundrel here safe, and along he
comes and tells me to come down out of that now with no more gratitude
than if he had given me a gold goose. And yet I fought a duel for him
and managed everything so finely that he came away well enough to box
me on the ear, which was mere hilarity and means nothing between
friends."

Jem Bottles was still halted on the stair. He and all the others had
listened to Paddy's speeches in a blank amazement which had much
superstition in it.

"Shall I go up, sir?" he asked, not eagerly.

"No," said I. "Leave me to deal with it. I fear a great mistake. Give
me ten minutes, and I promise to empty the inn of all uproar."

A murmur of admiration arose, and as the sound leaped about my ears I
moved casually and indifferently up against Paddy. It was a grand
scene.

"Paddy," I whispered as soon as I had reached a place on the stairs
safe from the ears of the people below. "Paddy, you have made a great
blunder. You have the wrong man."

"'Tis unlikely," replied Paddy with scorn. "You wait until you see
him, and if he is not little and black, then--"

"Yes, yes," said I hastily, "but it was not any little black man at
all which I wanted. It was a particular little black man."

"But," said the ruffian brightly, "it would be possible this one will
serve your end. He's little and he's black."

At this moment the voice of the captive came intoning through the door
of a chamber.

"When I am free I will first cut out your liver and have it grilled,
and feed it to you as you are dying."

Paddy had stepped forward and placed his lips within about six inches
of one of the panels.

"Come now, be easy!" he said. "You know well that if you should do as
you say, I would beat your head that it would have the looks of a
pudding fallen from a high window, and that's the truth."

"Open the door, rascal," called the captive, "and we shall see."

"I will be opening no doors," retorted Paddy indignantly. "Remain
quiet, you little black devil, or, by the mass, I'll--"

"I'll slice your heart into pieces of paper," thundered Paddy's
prisoner, kicking and pounding.

By this time I was ready to interfere. "Paddy," said I, catching him
by the shoulder, "you have the wrong man. Leave it to me; mind you,
leave it to me."

"He's that small and black you'd think--" he began dej