indow, he rode away for Dublin.

Toole, on reaching town, spurred on to the dingy residence of Mr. Luke
Gamble. It must be allowed that he had no clear intention of taking any
step whatsoever in consequence of what he might hear. But the little
fellow was deuced curious; and Dirty Davy's confidence gave him a sort
of right to be satisfied.

So with his whip under his arm, and a good deal out of breath, for the
stairs were steep, he bounced into the attorney's sanctum.

'Who's _that? Is_ that?--Why, bless my soul and body! 'tis yourself,'
cried Toole, after an astonished pause of a few seconds at the door,
springing forward and grasping Nutter by both hands, and shaking them
vehemently, and grinning very joyously and kindly the while.

Nutter received him cordially, but a little sheepishly. Indeed, his
experiences of life, and the situations in which he had found himself
since they had last met, were rather eccentric and instructive than
quite pleasant to remember. And Nutter, in his way, was a proud fellow,
and neither liked to be gaped at nor pitied.

But Toole was a thorough partisan of his, and had been urgent for
permission to see him in gaol, and they knew how true he had been to
poor Sally Nutter, and altogether felt very much at home with him.

So sitting in that twilight room, flanked with piles of expended briefs,
and surrounded with neatly docketed packets of attested copies, notices,
affidavits, and other engines of legal war--little Toole having expended
his congratulations, and his private knowledge of Sturk's revelations,
fell upon the immediate subject of his visit.

'That rogue, Davy O'Reegan, looked in on me not an hour ago, at the
Phoenix' (and he gave them a very spirited, but I'm afraid a somewhat
fanciful description of the combat.) 'And I'm afraid he'll give us a
deal of trouble yet. He told me that the certificate--'

'Ay--here's a copy;' and Luke Gamble threw a paper on the table before
him.

'That's it--Mary Duncan--1750--the very thing--the rascal! Well, he
said, you know, but I knew better, that you had admitted the certificate
formally.'

'So I have. Sir,' said. Mr. Gamble, drily, stuffing his hands into his
breeches' pockets, and staring straight at Toole with elevated eyebrows,
and as the little doctor thought, with a very odd expression in his
eyes.

'You _have_, Sir?'

'I have!' and then followed a little pause, and Mr. Gamble said--

'I did so, Sir, because there's no dis