f Ireland, and about five after the sheriff's
illness.

"Come, Whitecraft," said the squire, "come and let us have lunch: I'll
hold a crown I give you as good a glass of Burgundy as you gave me the
other day, and will say done first."

"Won't Miss Folliard join us at lunch?" asked Whitecraft, looking to her
for an assent.

"Why, I suppose so," replied her father; "won't you come, Helen?"

"You know, papa, I never lunch."

"'Gad, and neither you do, Helen. Come, Sir Robert, we will have a
mouthful to eat, and something good to wash it down; come along, man.
what the devil are you scrutinizing poor old Robinson Crusoe for? Come
along. I say, the old chap is making the green-house thrive; he beats
Malcomson. Here. Malcomson, you know Sir Robert Whitecraft, don't you?"

"Hout, your honor, wha' disna ken Sir Robert Whitecraft? Isn't his name
far and near, as a braw defender o' the faith, and a putter down o'
Papistry?"

"By the way, Malcomson," said Sir Robert, "where did you get Robinson
Crusoe, by which I mean that wild-looking man in the green-house?"

"Saul, sir, it's a question I never speered at him. He cam' here as a
gaberlunzie, and on stating that he was indoctrinated in the sceence o'
buttany, his honor garred me employ him. De'il hae't but the truth I'll
tell--he's a clever buttanist, and knows a' the sceentific names aff
hand."

"So that's all you know about him?" said Sir Robert. "He has a devil of
a beard, and is shockingly dressed. Why doesn't he shave?"

"Ou, just some Papistry nonsense," replied the gardener; "but we hae
naething to do wi' that, sae lang's we get the worth o' our siller out
o' him."

"Here's a shilling, Malcomson," said Sir Robert.

"Na, na, your honor; a shilling's no for a man that understands the
sceence o' buttany: a shilling's for a flunky in livery; but as for me,
I couldna conscientiously condescend upon less than ten o' them, or
may be a pund British, but I'm feart that's contrair to your honor's
habits."

"Well, then," said Sir Robert, "I have no more silver, and so I leave
you to the agreeable society of Robinson Crusoe."

Reilly had watched Sir Robert's motions, as well as his countenance, in
a manner as furtively as possible. Sometimes, indeed, he stared at him
broadly, and with a stupid, oafish look, and again placed himself in
such a position behind the range of flower-pots which were placed upon
the ledges, that he could observe him without being perceived hi