"
"Well, I think I can, sir."
"Yes; but are you sure of it?"
"Well, I think I am, sir."
"You think! why, d--n it, sir, do you not know whether you are or not?"
"May I ax, sir," inquired the other in his turn, "if you are a religious
character?"
"WHy, what the devil has that to do with the matter in question?" said
Woodward, beginning to lose his temper. "I ask you to direct me to
the residence of a certain gentleman, and you ask me whether I am a
religious character? What do you mean by that?"
"Why, sir," replied the man, "not much, I'm afeard--only if you had let
me speak, which you didn't, God pardon you, I was going to say, that
if you knew the way to heaven as well as I do to Misther Lindsay's you
might call yourself a happy man, and born to luck."
Woodward looked with something of curiosity at his new companion, and
was a good deal struck with his appearance. His age might be about
twenty-eight or from that to thirty; his figure stout and well-made;
his features were decidedly Milesian, but then they were Milesian of
the best character; his mouth was firm, but his lips full, red, and
handsome; his clear, merry eyes would puzzle one to determine whether
they were gray or blue, so equally were the two colors blended in them.
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