’And my dear, it has been going on so regularly ever since, with, till very lately, so little disguise, that I only wonder everybody doesn’t see it as plain as I do myself; and Lily, my dear,’ continued Aunt Rebecca, energetically, rising from the sofa, as some object caught her eye through the glass-door in the garden, ’your beautiful roses are all trailing in the mud.  What on earth is Hogan about? and there, see, just at the door, a boxful of nails!—­I’d nail his ear to the wall if he were mine,’ and Aunt Rebecca glanced sharply through the glass, this way and that, for the offending gardener, who, happily, did not appear.  Then off went Aunt Becky to something else; and in a little time remembered the famous academy in Martin’s-row, and looking at her watch, took her leave in a prodigious hurry, and followed by Dominick, in full livery, and two dogs, left Lilias again to the society of her own sad thoughts.

CHAPTER XLII.

IN WHICH DR. STURK TRIES THIS WAY AND THAT FOR A REPRIEVE ON THE EVE OF EXECUTION.

So time crept on, and the day arrived when Sturk must pay his rent, or take the ugly consequences.  The day before he spent in Dublin financiering.  It was galling and barren work.  He had to ask favours of fellows whom he hated, and to stand their refusals, and pretend to believe their lying excuses, and appear to make quite light of it, though every failure stunned him like a blow of a bludgeon, and as he strutted jauntily off with a bilious smirk, he was well nigh at his wits’ end.  It was dark as he rode out by the low road to Chapelizod—­crest-fallen, beaten—­scowling in the darkness through his horse’s ears along the straight black line of road, and wishing, as he passed the famous Dog-house, that he might be stopped and plundered, and thus furnished with a decent excuse for his penniless condition, and a plea in which all the world would sympathise for a short indulgence—­and, faith! he did not much care if they sent a bullet through his harassed brain.  But the highwaymen, like the bankers, seemed to know, by instinct, that he had not a guinea, and declined to give him even the miserable help he coveted.

When he got home he sent down for Cluffe to the Phoenix, and got him to take Nutter, who was there also, aside, and ask him for a little time, or to take part of the rent.  Though the latter would not have helped him much; for he could not make out ten pounds just then, were it to save his life.  But Nutter only said—­

’The rent’s not mine; I can’t give it or lose it; and Sturk’s not safe.  Will you lend it? I can’t.’

This brought Cluffe to reason.  He had opened the business, like a jolly companion, in a generous, full-blooded way.

’Well, by Jove, Nutter, I can’t blame you; for you see, between ourselves, I’m afraid ’tis as you say.  We of the Royal Irish have done, under the rose, you know, all we can; and I’m sorry the poor devil has run himself into a scrape; but hang it, we must have a conscience; and if you think there’s a risk of losing it, why I don’t see that I can press you.