few minutes, and your writing materials?"

The excellent clergyman immediately conducted him to the study, and
placed the materials before him with his own hands, after which he left
the room. Reilly then sat down, and penned the following letter to his
dear _Cooleen Bawn_:

"I am now thoroughly disguised, indeed so effectually that my nearest
and dearest friends could not know me; nay, I question whether even you
yourself would, except by the keen intuition of affection, which is said
to penetrate all disguises, unless those of falsehood and hypocrisy.
These, however, are disguises I have never worn, nor ever shall
wear--either to you or any human being. I had intended to go to the
Continent until this storm of persecution might blow over; but on
reflection I changed my purpose, for I could not leave you to run the
risk of being ensnared in the subtle and treacherous policy of that
villain. It is my intention to visit your father's house and to see
you if I can. You need not, for the sake of my safety, object to this,
because no one can know me. The description of my dress, though somewhat
undignified, I must give you. In the first place, then, I am, to all
outward appearance, as rude-looking a country lout as ever you looked
upon. My disguise consists, first, of a pair of brogues embroidered with
clouts, or what is vulgarly denominated patches, out of the point of one
of which--that of the right foot--nearly half my toe visibly projects.
The stockings are coarse Connemaras, with sufficient air-holes, both in
feet and legs, to admit the pure atmosphere, and strengthen the muscular
system. My small-clothes are corduroys, bought from a hard-working
laborer, with a large patch upon each knee. A tailor, however, has
promised to get some buttons for them and sew them on. The waistcoat is
altogether indescribable; because, as its materials seem to have been
rescued, that is, stolen, from all the scarecrows in the country, I am'
unable to come at the first fabric. The coat itself is also beautifully
variegated, its patches consisting of all the colors of the rainbow,
with two or three dozen that never appeared in that beautiful
phenomenon. But what shall I say of the pendiment, or caubeen, which is
a perfect gem of its kind? The villain who wore it, I have been told by
the person who acted as factor for me in its purchase, was one of the
most quarrelsome rascals in Ireland, and seldom went without a black eye
or a broken pa