over as nice a sod as ever you cantered.'

'And that last fence, what is it like?'

''Faith, it is a rasper! It's a wide gully, where there was a _boreen_
once, and they say it is every inch of sixteen feet--that'll make it
close upon twenty when you clear the clay on both sides. The grey horse,
I'm told, has a way of jumping in and jumping out of these narrow roads;
but take my advice, and go it in a fly. And now, Captain, what between
the running, and the riding, and the talking altogether, I am as dry as
a limekiln; so what do you say if we turn back to town, and have a bit
of supper together? There's a kind of a cousin of mine, one Bob Mahon,
a Major in the Roscommon, and he has got a grouse-pie, and something hot
to dilute it with, waiting for us.'

'Nothing will give me more pleasure, father; and there's only one thing
more--indeed I had nearly forgotten it altogether----''

'What's that?' said the priest, with surprise.

'Not having any intention to ride, I left town without any racing
equipment; breeches and boots I have, but as to a cap and a jacket----'

'I 've provided for both,' said Father Tom. 'You saw the little man
with a white head that sat at the head of the table--Tom Dillon of Mount
Brown; you know him?'

'I am not acquainted with him.'

'Well, he knows you; that's all the same. His son, that's just gone to
Gibraltar with his regiment, was about your size, and he had a new cap
and jacket made for this very race, and of course they are lying there
and doing nothing. So I sent over a little gossoon with a note, and I
don't doubt but they are all at the inn this moment.'

'By Jove, father!' said I, 'you are a real friend, and a most thoughtful
one, too.'

'Maybe I'll do better than that for you,' said he, with a sly wink of
his eye, that somehow suggested to my mind that he knew more of and took
a deeper interest in me than I had reason to believe.

CHAPTER XXIII. MAJOR MAHON AND HIS QUARTERS

The Major's quarters were fixed in one of the best houses in the town,
in the comfortable back-parlour of which was now displayed a little
table laid for three persons. A devilled lobster, the grouse-pie already
mentioned, some fried ham, and crisped potatoes were the viands; but
each was admirable in its kind, and with the assistance of an excellent
bowl of hot punch and the friendly welcome of the host, left nothing to
be desired.

Major Bob Mahon was a short, thickset little man, with round