ou
mean when you say that Sir Robert Whitecraft won't come here to-day?"

"Becaise, sir, it isn't convanient to him."

"Why isn't it convenient, you scoundrel?"

"Bekaise, sir, he took it into his head to try a change of air for the
benefit of his health before he starts upon his journey; and as he got
a very friendly invitation to spend some time in Sligo jail he accepted
it, and if you go there you will find him before you. It seems he
started this morning in great state, with two nice men belonging to the
law in the carriage with him, to see that he should want for nothing,
and a party of cavalry surroundin' his honor's coach, as if he was one
of the judges, or the Lord Lieutenant."

The figurative style of his narrative would unquestionably have caused
him to catch the weight of the cane aforesaid had not Helen interfered
and saved him for the nonce.

"Let me at him, Helen, let me at him--the drunken old rip; why does he
dare to humbug us in this manner?"

"Well, then, sir, if you wish to hear the good news, and especially you,
Miss Folliard, it will probably relieve your heart when I tell you that
Sir Robert Whitecraft is, before this time, in the jail of Sligo, for
a charge of murdher, and for burnin' Mr. Reilly's house and premises,
which it now seems aren't Mr. Reilly's at all--nor ever were--but
belong to Mr. Hastings."

"Good heavens!" exclaimed the squire, "this is dreadful: but is it true,
sirra?"

"Why, sir, if you go to his house you'll find it so."

"Oh, papa," said Helen, "surely they wouldn't hang him?"

"Hang him, Helen; why, Helen, the tide's turned; they want to make him
an example for the outrages that he and others have committed against
the unfortunate Papists. Hang him!--as I live, he and the Red Rapparee
will both swing from the same gallows; but there is one thing I say--if
he hangs I shall take care that that obstinate scoundrel, Reilly, shall
also swing along with him."

Helen became as pale as ashes, the flush had disappeared from her
countenance, and she burst again into tears.

"Oh, papa," she exclaimed, "spare Reilly: he is innocent."

"I'll hang him," he replied, "if it should cost me ten thousand pounds.
Go you, sirra, and desire one of the grooms to saddle me Black Tom; he
is the fastest horse in my stables; I cannot rest till I ascertain the
truth of this."

On passing the drawing-room he looked in, and found Mr. Strong and
the two Misses Ashford waiting, the one to