"Yes, she _was_ goin' to get married, and he wished she wasn't, that was
all."
"Who to?" inquired the other.
"Why, to that Irish scoundrel Dan Horsey, to be sure," said Haco with a
huge sigh of resignation, which, coming from any other man, would have
been regarded as a groan. "The fact is, lad, that poor Susan's heart is
set upon that fellow, an' so it's no use resistin' them no longer.
Besides, the blackguard is well spoken of by his master, who's a trump.
Moreover, I made a kind o' half promise long ago that I'd not oppose
them, to that scapegrace young Lieutenant Bingley, who's on his way home
from China just now. An' so it's a-goin' to be; an' they've set their
hearts on havin' the weddin' same week as the weddin' o' Master Kenneth
and Lizzie Gordon; so the fact is they may all marry each other, through
other, down the middle and up again, for all I care, 'cause I'm a-goin'
on a whalin' voyage to Novy Zembly or Kumskatchkie--anywheres to git
peace o' mind--there!"
Saying this Haco dashed the ashes out of his big German pipe into his
left palm, and scattered them to the winds.
"Now, lad," he said, in conclusion, "we'll go turn in, and you'll sleep
with me to-night, for ye couldn't get a bed in the Home for love or
money, seein' that it's choke full already. Come along."