And the good rector had many ejaculations of consternation and sympathy, and not a few enquiries to utter.

And at last, when the theme was quite exhausted, he told Toole, who still lingered on, that he was going to pay his respects to Captain Devereux.
'Oh!' said cunning little Toole, 'you need not, for I told him the whole matter.' 'Very like, Sir,' answered the doctor; 'but 'tis on another matter I wish to see him.' 'Oh!--ho!--certainly--very good, Sir.

I beg pardon--and--and--he's just done his breakfast--a late dog, Sir--ha! ha! Your servant, Doctor Walsingham.' Devereux puzzled his comrade Puddock more than ever.

Sometimes he would descend with his blue devils into the abyss, and sit there all the evening in a dismal sulk.

Sometimes he was gayer even than his old gay self; and sometimes in a bitter vein, talking enigmatical ironies, with his strange smile; and sometimes he was dangerous and furious, just as the weather changes, without rhyme or reason.