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Updated: June 15, 2025
Of this, however, he knew nothing, although his own intercourse with him might have well taught him the necessary lesson. "Well, Mr. Crackenfudge," said the latter, without moving, "what's wrong now? What's the news?" "There's nothing wrong, Sir Thomas, and a've good news." The baronet's eye and brow lost some of their gloom; he arose and commenced, as was his custom, to walk across the room.
A' declare to God, Sir Thomas, a' will never have a happy day unless I'm able to write J. P. after my name. A' can think of nothing else. And, Sir Thomas, listen to me; my friends a' mean my relations poor, honest, contemptible creatures, are all angry with me, because a' changed my name to Crackenfudge." "But what has this to do with the history of the fellow in the inn?" replied Sir Thomas.
Had he possessed either dignity, or one spark of gentlemanly feeling, or self-respect, he would not have degraded himself from what ought to have been expected from a man in his position, by his violence to the worthless wretch, Crackenfudge, who was slight, comparatively feeble, and by no means a match for him in a personal contest.
"Begone, villain!" he exclaimed; "and may you never die till you feel the torments which you have kindled, like the flames of hell, within me!" On entering the room again, he found, however, that with a being even so wretched and contemptible as Crackenfudge, there had departed a portion of his strength.
"De'il a syllable, Sir Tammas," replied the landlord, who was a northern "How ir you, Counsellor Crackenfudge," he added, speaking to a person who passed upstairs "There he goes," proceeded Jack the landlord "a nice boy. But do you know, Sir Tammas, why he changed his name to Crackenfudge?" Sir Thomas's face at this moment, had grown frightful.
He read a spirit a sparkle in his eye, which taught him that the brutality inflicted upon the unfortunate Crackenfudge, and such others as he knew he might trample on, would never do here. As matters stood, however, he thought the only chance of throwing the stranger off his guard was to take him by a coup de main.
The look which Sir Thomas turned upon Crackenfudge made the cowardly caitiff tremble. "Harkee, Mr. Crackenfudge," said he; "did you hear the name of the baronet, or of his daughter?" "A' did not, Sir Thomas; the person that told me was ignorant of this himself." "May I ask who your informant was, Mr. Crackenfudge?"
I was playin' a tune the other day in the hall, and while I was in the very middle of it I heard him say 'We must have Counsellor Crackenfudge on the bench; and so they had a long palaver about you, and the whole thing ended by Sir Thomas getting the tough old Captain to promise you his support, with some great man that they called custos rascalorum."
On turning over the matter, however, a second time in his thoughts, and comparing the information which he had received from Crackenfudge respecting the stranger, and the allusion to the toothpick manufacturer, he felt morally certain that Fenton was his brother's son, and that by some means or other unknown to him he had escaped from the asylum in which he had been placed, and by some unaccountable fatality located himself in the town of Ballytrain, which, in fact, was a portion of his inheritance.
He walked, he paused, he looked at Crackenfudge as if he would speak, then resumed his step with a hasty and rapid stride that betokened the depth of what he felt. "Well, Crackenfudge," he said, "your intelligence, after all, is but mere smoke. I thought the fellow in the inn was something beyond the rank of clerk to a tooth-brush maker; he is not worth our talk, neither is that madman Fenton.
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