good times for more than you," broke in the woman in the
uniform coat; "I made seven-and-sixpence on Essex Bridge in one night by
the 'Shan van voght.'"

"The grandest ballad that ever was written," chimed in an old man with
one eye; "does yer honer know it?"

"I'm ashamed to say not perfectly," said Dan, with an air of humility.

"Molly Daly's the one can sing it well, then," cried he; a sentiment
re-echoed with enthusiasm by all.

"I'm low and down-hearted of a mornin'," said Molly, bashfully; "but
maybe after a naggin and a pint I'll be better."

"Let me have the honor to treat the company," said Dan, handing a
crown-piece to one near him.

"If your honor wants to hear Molly right, make her sing Tom Molloy's
ballad for the Volunteers," whispered the cripple; and he struck up in a
hoarse voice,--

"'Was she not a fool,
When she took off our wool,
To leave us so much of the
Leather--the leather!

"'It ne'er entered her pate
That a sheepskin will 'bate,'
Will drive a whole nation
Together--together.'"

"I'd rather she 'd sing Mosy Cassan's new song on Barry Rutledge,"
growled out a bystander.

"A song on Rutledge?" cried Dan.

"Yes, sir. It was describin' how Watty Carew enticed him downstairs,
to kill him. Faix, but there's murder now goin' on upstairs; do ye hear
ould Joe, how he's cursin' and swearin'?"

The uproar was assuredly enough to attract attention; for Curtis was
heard screaming something at the top of his voice, and as if in high
altercation with his visitor. Mac-Naghten accordingly sprang from
his seat, and hurried up the stairs at once, followed by the
powerful-looking fellow I have already mentioned. As he came near
Curtis's chamber, however, the sounds died away and nothing could
be heard but the low voices of persons conversing in ordinary tones
together.

"Step in here, sir," said the fellow to Dan, unlocking a door at the
back of the house; "step in here, and I'll tell you when Mister Joe is
ready to see you."

MacNaghten accepted the offer, and now found himself in a mean-looking
chamber, scantily furnished, and looking out upon some of those
miserable lanes and alleys with which the place abounded. The man
retired, locking the door after him, and leaving Dan to his own
meditations in solitude.

He was not destined to follow these thoughts long undisturbed, for again
he could hear Curtis's voice, which, at first from a distant room, was
now to be hea