distracted. Her father's words, however, and the affection which they
expressed, went to her heart; she threw her arms about him, kissed him,
and was relieved by a copious flood of tears.

"Papa," she said, "you are both kind and good; surely you wouldn't kill
your poor Helen?"

"Me kill you, Helen!--oh, no, faith. If Whitecraft were hanged to-morrow
it wouldn't give me half so much pain as if your little finger ached."

Just at this progress of the dialogue a smart and impatient knock came
to the door.

"Who is that?" said the squire; "come in--or, stay till I see who you
are." He than opened the door and exclaimed, "What! Lanigan!--why, you
infernal old scoundrel! how dare you have the assurance to look me in
the face, or to come under my roof at all, after what I said to you
about the pistols?"

"Ay, but you don't know the good news I have for you and Miss Helen."

"Oh, Lanigan, is Reilly safe?--is he set at large? Oh, I am sure he must
be. Never was so noble, so pure, and so innocent a heart."

"Curse him, look at the eye of him," said her father, pointing his cane
at Lanigan; "it's like the eye of a sharp-shooter. What are you grinning
at; you old scoundrel?"

"Didn't you expect Sir Robert Whitecraft here to-day to marry Miss
Folliard, sir?"

"I did, sirra, and I do; he'll be here immediately."

"Devil a foot he'll come to-day, I can tell you; and that's the way he
treats your daughter!"

"What does this old idiot mean, Helen? Have you been drinking, sirra?"

"Not yet, sir, but plaise the Lord I'll soon be at it."

"Lanigan," said Helen, "will you state at once what you have to say?"

"I will, miss; but first and foremost, I must show you how to dance the
'Little House under the Hill,'" and as he spoke he commenced whistling
that celebrated air and dancing to it with considerable alacrity and
vigor, making allowances for his age.

The father and daughter looked at each other, and Helen, notwithstanding
her broken spirits, could not avoid smiling. Lanigan continued the
dance, kept wheeling about to all parts of the room, like an old madcap,
cutting, capering, and knocking up his heels against his ham, with a
vivacity that was a perfect mystery to his two spectators, as was his
whole conduct.

"Now, you drunken old scoundrel," said his master, catching him by the
collar and flourishing the cane over his head, "if you don't give a
direct answer I will cane you within an inch of your life. What do y