well for thee to
continue to trust but those that thou knowest full well to be true and
honest men," said my friend, which admired this frank admission of
suspicion. "Thou art an honest fellow, and I like thee well; but be
careful of this," he continued,--"be sure that thou dost practise thine
honesty with great caution. Honesty, now-a-days, seems to be the
shortest road to the block; unless thou art cautious enough to be
honestly dishonest."

"Oi understand not thoy wourds," said Michael, as he scratched his
head, with a puzzled look; but for a moment only. "Uh!" said he, "Oi
think that Oi have a hould on what yer honour manes, and Oi'll profit
by yer advice, sor."

"But come," said I, "What is it that thou wishest to tell me? For well
do I know that story about mine armour to be but a disguise."

"In faith it was, sor, and Oi now craves yer pardon fer the tillin' of
a loie to yer honour."

"It had been granted ere thou didst ask. Come, to thy news."

"Will, sor, it was jist after Oi had delivered thoy missage, and was
walkin' along the hall on moy way to look after moy horse, which was
sore toired, that Oi mit his honour, Sor William Catesby. As Oi took
off moy cap to him, he stops me, and sez he:--'Whare didst thou come
from?'

"'From Oireland, yer honour,' sez Oi. This Oi said that Oi moight have
toime to git a good loie through moy thick skull.

"'Thou needst not have tould me that,' sez he, and he began to laugh,
though fer the loife o' me Oi know not yit what so playzed him."

I glanced at Harleston. His head was thrown back in his chair, as was
his habit whilst sitting and listening to anything that interested him.
I could see by his amused smile that he was not surprised at Catesby's
laughter. No more was I.

"What said you then?" asked I, as I saw Michael looking at me in
surprise. No doubt he was wondering what I saw to so amuse me.

"Uh! thin Oi said:--'But yer honour axed me, so Oi had to till thee.'

"'Oi mint not whare wast thou born, but whare hast thou come from jist
now?' sez he.

"'Uh! yer honour manes whare am Oi jist after lavin', this minit?' sez
Oi.

"Thin he nodded, and still kipt on a smoilin'.

"'Bad luck to me fer a stoopid clown,' sez Oi. 'Oi moight have known
what yer honour mint, without kapin' ye standin, explainin' the houle
o' this toime.'

"Now all this whoile, sor, Oi was warein' out what little brains the
good Lord gave me (and Oi think he moight have bi