In the course of about fifteen mortal, minutes, he returned with a quart
of porter in his hand, exclaiming--

"Bad luck to them for pigs, they got into the garden, and I had to drive
them out, and cut a lump of a bush to stop the gap wid; however, I think
they won't go back that way again. My name you want? Why, then, my name
is Paudeen Gair--that is, Sharpe, sir; but, in troth, it is n't Sharpe
by name and Sharpe by nature wid me, although you'd get them that 'ud
say otherwise."

"How long have you been here," asked the other.

"I've been laborin' for the master goin' on fourteen years; but I'm only
about twelve months attendin' table."

"How long has your fellow-servant--Peggy, I think, you call her--been
here?"

"Not long."

"Where had she been before, do you know."

"Do I know, is it? Maybe 'tis you may say that."

"What do you mean? I don't understand you."

"I know that well enough, and it is n't my intention you should."

"In what family was she at service."