When, at last, his eyes turned, and his lips opened, this seemed to be done by machinery, and not by the will of a living creature, or from the impulse of a rational soul. Lord Colambre was so much struck with this strange physiognomy, that he actually forgot much he had to say of springs and wheels. But it was no matter. Whatever he had said, it would have come to the same thing; and Mordicai would have answered as he now did—

'Sir, it was my partner made that bargain, not myself; and I don't hold myself bound by it, for he is the sleeping-partner only, and not empowered to act in the way of business. Had Mr. Berryl bargained with me, I should have told him that he should have looked to these things before his carriage went out of our yard.'

The indignation of Lord Colambre kindled at these words—but in vain. To all that indignation could by word or look urge against Mordicai, he replied—

'Maybe so, sir; the law is open to your friend—the law is open to all men who can pay for it.'

Lord Colambre turned in despair from the callous coach-maker, and listened to one of his more compassionate-looking workmen, who was reviewing the disabled curricle; and, whilst he was 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, then! he's an Irishman,' cried Paddy; 'and there was the RASON my heart warmed to him from the first minute he come into the yard, though I did not know it till now.'

'What, sir! are you my Lord Colambre?' said Mr. Mordicai, recovering, but not clearly recovering, his intellects. 'I beg pardon, but I did not know you WAS Lord Colambre. I thought you told me you was the friend of Mr. Berryl.'

'I do not see the incompatibility of the assertion, sir,' replied Lord Colambre, taking from the bewildered foreman's unresisting hand the account, which he had been so long FURNISHING.

'Give me leave, my lord,' said Mordicai. 'I beg your pardon, my lord, perhaps we can compromise that business for your friend Mr. Berryl; since he is your lordship's friend, perhaps we can contrive to COMPROMISE and SPLIT THE DIFFERENCE.'

TO COMPROMISE and SPLIT THE DIFFERENCE, Mordicai thought were favourite phrases, and approved Hibernian modes of doing business, which would conciliate this young Irish nobleman, and dissipate the proud tempest which had gathered and now swelled in his breast.

'No, sir, no!' cried Lord Colambre, holding firm the paper. 'I want no favour from you.