'
And so the doctor, wrapped in his mantle, plunged into the hurricane and
darkness; and was sensible, with a throb of angry regret, of a whiff of
punch rising from the footpath, as he turned the corner of the steps.
An hour later, Devereux being alone, called to Mrs. Irons, and receiving
her with a courteous gravity, he said--
'Madam, will you be so good as to lend me your Bible?'
Devereux was prosecuting his reformation, which, as the reader sees, had
set in rather tempestuously, but was now settling in serenity and calm.
Mrs. Irons only said--
'My----?' and then paused, doubting her ears.
'Your _Bible_, if you please, Madam.'
'Oh?--oh! my Bible? I--to be sure, captain, jewel,' and she peeped at
his face, and loitered for a while at the door, for she had unpleasant
misgivings about him, and did not know what to make of his request, so
utterly without parallel. She'd have fiddled at the door some time
longer, speculating about his sanity, but that Devereux turned full upon
her with a proud stare, and rising, he made her a slight bow, and said:
'I _thank_ you, Madam,' with a sharp courtesy, that said: 'avaunt, and
quit my sight!' so sternly, though politely, that she vanished on the
instant; and down stairs she marvelled with Juggy Byrne, 'what the puck
the captain could want of a Bible! Upon my conscience it sounds well.
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