visit to the jail. He found the prisoner sitting on
his narrow bed, looking haggard and ill, but as sullen as ever.

"Well, Magee," said Mr. Raeburn, pleasantly, "have you made up your
mind to tell all you know of the parentage of that stolen child? You
have confessed that you connived at, if you did not assist in the
crime, and it may go hard with you at the trial."

Patrick replied, with a furious oath, "Niver a word more will I spake
about the matter, if they hang me."

"If I will endeavor to get you discharged; if I will promise to give
you some decent clothes, and to furnish you with easy and constant
employment, will you tell?"

"No."

"If I will give you a glass of good brandy, will you tell?"

Patrick started, and his dull eyes flashed, but with his old cunning he
replied, "Show me first the brandy."

Mr. Raeburn took a flask from his pocket and poured out a glass nearly
full. With a trembling, outstretched hand, the poor sot cried, "Yes,
yes, yer honor, give it to me, and on my word, on my sowl, I'll tell."

The glass was given him, and he drained it with a sort of frantic
relish; then almost immediately, and very hurriedly, began his story.

"Molly's father is Squire Phillips, a mighty clever lawyer and a rich
man. He lives at Newburgh, on the Hudson, forninst Fishkill; you mind
the town?"

"Yes, and I have heard of Mr. Phillips; go on."

"I should have said he has an office in Newburgh, but he lives on a
fine place up the river, out of town, a couple of miles or so. You
see, when ill-luck sent me over from Ireland, where I lived in ease and
plenty, never taking up a spade but for devarsion, after a hard day
following the hounds or riding steeple-chases, I lived with Mr.
Phillips as gardener. But he and I niver could agree, and so parted;
and soon after my Biddy, who was the cook, was discharged for taking a
drop too much just. You see she fell down stairs with the tea-tray.
So she had a spite against the master on my account, and against the
mistress on her own account, and vowed by all the saints she 'd be aven
with them. After we settled in New York, many's the trip she took up
the river to prowl about the place (women is quare cratures, yer honor)
for a chance to balance accounts. But she never got a shy at them till
one afternoon, just before dark, she found little Miss Mary, Mistress
Phillips's one child, playing alone on the river-bank, out of sight of
the house; it's likely she 'd