You've always been very good to me, Puddock.
I believe--I believe you're the only friend I have, and--Puddock, you won't leave me.' So up stairs they went together; and Mrs.Irons, from what she had overheard, considered herself justified in saying, that 'Captain Devereux was for drowning himself in the Liffey, and would have done so only for Lieutenant Puddock.' And so the report was set a-going round the garrulous town of Chapelizod.
As Mr.Dangerfield glided rapidly along the silent road towards the Brass Castle, the little gate of his now leafless flower-garden being already in sight, he saw a dark figure awaiting him under the bushes which overhung it.

It was Mr.Irons, who came forward, without speaking, and lifted his hat respectfully, perhaps abjectly, and paused for recognition.
'Hey! Irons ?' said Mr.Dangerfield.
'At your service, Sir.' 'Well, and what says his worship ?' asked the gentleman, playfully.
'I wanted to tell your honour that it won't make no odds, and I'll do it.' 'Of course.

You're right.

It does make no odds.

He'll hang whatever you do; and I tell you 'tis well he should, and only right _you_ should speak the truth, too--'twill make assurance doubly sure.' 'At eight o'clock in the morning, Sir, I'll attend you,' said Irons, with a sort of shiver.
'Good! and I'll jot down your evidence, and we'll drive over to Mr.
Lowe's, to Lucan, and you shall swear before him.