the drayman. Contrary to custom Mahony had, on this occasion, himself
recommended the driver. And, as he admitted it, his ears rang again with
the plaints of his stranded fellow-countryman, a wheedler from the South
Country, off whose tongue the familiar brogue had dripped like honey.
His recommendation, he explained, had been made out of charity; he had
not forced the agent to engage the man; and it would surely be a gross
injustice if he alone were to be held responsible.

To his relief Ocock did not seem to attach importance to the fact, but
went on to ask whether any written agreement had existed between the
parties. "No writing? H'm! So . . . so!" To read his thoughts was an
impossibility; but as he proceeded with his catechism it was easy to see
how his interest in the case grew. He began to treat it tenderly; warmed
to it, as an artist to his work; and Mahony's spirits rose in
consequence.

Having selected a number of minor points that would tell in their
favour, Ocock dilated upon the libellous aspersion that had been cast on
Mahony's good faith. "My experience has invariably been this, Mr.
Mahony: people who suggest that kind of thing, and accuse others of it,
are those who are accustomed to make use of such means themselves. In
this case, there may have been no goods at all--the thing may prove to
have been a put-up job from beginning to end."

But his hearer's start of surprise was too marked to be overlooked.
"Well, let us take the existence of the goods for granted. But might
they not, being partly of a perishable nature, have gone bad or
otherwise got spoiled on the road, and not have been in a fit condition
for you to receive at your end?"