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Book, page 11 / 491 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 _tote_ 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 every body 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 _ra_son 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.
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