at pratthy wather-fall, yon at the mill, until his sins was
washed out of him. Would there be confessions then?--That would there;
and sich letting out of sacrets as would satisfy the conscience of a
hog!"

By the time Mike had got through this sentiment he was on the staging,
where he stood hitching up his nether garment, with a meaning grin on
his face that gave a peculiar expression of heavy cunning to the
massive jaw and capacious mouth, blended with an honesty and good-
nature that the well-meaning fellow was seldom without when he
addressed any of the captain's family. Joyce glanced at the captain,
expecting orders to seize the returned run-away; but his superior read
at once good faith in the expression of his old retainer's countenance.

"You have occasioned us a good deal of surprise, O'Hearn, on more
accounts than one," observed the captain, who thought it prudent to
assume more sternness of manner than his feelings might have actually
warranted. "You have not only gone off yourself, but you have suffered
your prisoner to escape with you. Then your manner of getting into the
house requires an explanation. I shall hear what you have to say before
I make up my mind as to your conduct."

"Is it spake I will?--That will I, and as long as it plase yer honour
to listen. Och! Isn't that Saucy Nick a quare one? Divil burn me if I
thinks the likes of him is to be found in all Ameriky, full as it is of
Injins and saucy fellies! Well, now, I suppose, sarjeant, ye've set me
down as sin riding off with Misther Joel and his likes, if ye was to
open yer heart, and spake yer thrue mind?"

"You have been marked for a deserter, O'Hearn, and one, too, that
deserted from post."

"Post! Had I been _that_, I shouldn't have stirred, and ye'd be
wanting in the news I bring ye from the Majjor, and Mr. Woods, and the
savages, and the rest of the varmints."

"My son!--Is this possible, Michael? Have you seen _him_, or can
you tell us anything of his state?"

Mike now assumed a manner of mysterious importance, laying a finger on
his nose, and pointing towards the sentinel and Jamie.

"It's the sarjeant that I considers as one of the family," said the
county Leitrim-man, when his pantomime was through, "but it isn't
dacent to be bawling out sacrets through a whole nighbourhood; and
then, as for _Ould_ Nick--or Saucy Nick, or whatever ye calls
him--Och! isn't he a _pratthy_ Injin! Ye'll mar-r-ch t'rough
Ameriky, and never see his