It was so well known in Chapelizod that Sturk was poking after Lord Castlemallard’s agency that Nutter felt the scene going on before his eyes between him and Dangerfield like a public affront. His ire was that of a phlegmatic man, dangerous when stirred, and there was no mistaking, in his rigid, swarthy countenance, the state of his temper.

Dangerfield took an opportunity, and touched Nutter on the shoulder, and told him frankly, in effect, though he wished things to go on as heretofore, Sturk had wormed himself into a sort of confidence with Lord Castlemallard.

‘Not confidence, Sir — talk, if you please,’ said Nutter grimly.

‘Well, into talk,’ acquiesced Dangerfield; ‘and by Jove, I’ve a hard card to play, you see. His lordship will have me listen to Doctor Sturk’s talk, such as it is.’

‘He has no talk in him, Sir, you mayn’t get from any other impudent dunderhead in the town,’ answered Nutter.

‘My dear Sir, understand me. I’m your friend,’ and he placed his hand amicably upon Nutter’s arm; ‘but Lord Castlemallard has, now and then, a will of his own, I need not tell you; and somebody’s been doing you an ill turn with his lordship; and you’re a gentleman, Mr. Nutter, and I like you, and I’ll be frank with you, knowing ’twill go no further. Sturk wants the agency. You have my good-will. I don’t see why he should take it from you; but — but — you see his lordship takes odd likings, and he won’t always listen to reason.’

Nutter was so shocked and exasperated, that for a moment he felt stunned, and put his hand toward his head.

‘I think, Sir,’ said Nutter, with a stern, deliberate oath, I’ll write to Lord Castlemallard this evening, and throw up his agency; and challenge Sturk, and fight him in the morning.’

‘You must not resign the agency, Sir; his lordship is whimsical; but you have a friend at court. I’ve spoken in full confidence in your secrecy; and should any words pass between you and Dr. Sturk, you’ll not mention my name; I rely, Sir, on your honour, as you may on my good-will;’ and Dangerfield shook hands with Nutter significantly, and called to Irons, who was waiting to accompany him, and the two anglers walked away together up the river.

Nutter was still possessed with his furious resolution to fling down his office at Lord Castlemallard’s feet, and to call Sturk into the lists of mortal combat. One turn by himself as far as the turnpike, however, and he gave up the first, and retained only the second resolve. Half-an-hour more, and he had settled in his mind that there was no need to punish the meddler that way: and so he resolved to bide his time — a short one.

In the meanwhile Dangerfield had reached one of those sweet pastures by the river’s bank which, as we have read, delight the simple mind of the angler, and his float was already out, and bobbing up and down on the ripples of the stream; and the verdant valley, in which he and his taciturn companion stood side by side, resounded, from time to time, with Dangerfield’s strange harsh laughter; the cause of which Irons did not, of course, presume to ask.

There is a church-yard cough — I don’t see why there may not be a church-yard laugh. In Dangerfield’s certainly there was an omen — a glee that had nothing to do with mirth; and more dismaying, perhaps, than his sternest rebuke. If a man is not a laugher by nature, he had better let it alone. The bipeds that love mousing and carrion have a chant of their own, and nobody quarrels with it. We respect an owl or a raven, though we mayn’t love him, while he sticks to his croak or to-whoo. ‘Tisn’t pleasant, but quite natural and unaffected, and we acquiesce. All we ask of these gentlemanlike birds is, that they mistake not their talent — affect not music; or if they do, that they treat not us to their queer warblings.

Irons, with that never-failing phantom of a smile on his thin lips, stood a little apart, with a gaff and landing-net, and a second rod, and a little bag of worms, and his............