for a Loan of Fifty Guineas

--and Offers "Freney the Robber" as Security.

Whilst Father M'Mahon was wending his way to Constitution Hill from the
Brazen Head, where he had deposited his little bundle, containing three
shirts, two or three cravats, and as many pairs of stockings, a dialogue
was taking place in old Corbet's with which we must make the reader
acquainted. He is already aware that Corbet's present wife was his
second, and that she had a daughter by her first marriage, who had gone
abroad to the East Indies, many years ago, with her husband. This woman
was no other than Mrs. M'Bride, wife of the man who had abandoned her
for the French girl, as had been mentioned by the stranger to Father
M'Mahon, and who had, as was supposed, eloped with her to America. Such
certainly was M'Bride's intention, and there is no doubt that the New
World would have been edified by the admirable example of these two
moralists, were it not for the fact that Mrs. M'Bride, herself as shrewd
as the Frenchwoman, and burdened with as little honesty as the husband,
had traced them to the place of rendezvous on the very first night of
their disappearance; where, whilst they lay overcome with sleep and the
influence of the rosy god, she contrived to lessen her husband of the
pocketbook which he had helped himself to from his master's escritoire,
with the exception, simply, of the papers in question, which, not being
money, possessed in her eyes but little value to her. She had read them,
however; and as she had through her husband become acquainted with their
object, she determined on leaving them in his hands, with a hope that
they might become the means of compromising matters with his master,
and probably of gaining a reward for their restoration. Unfortunately,
however, it so happened, that that gentleman did not miss them until
some time after his arrival in Ireland; but, on putting matters
together, and comparing the flight of M'Bride with the loss of his
property, he concluded, with everything short of certainty, that the
latter was the thief.

Old Corbet and this woman were seated in the little back parlor whilst
Mrs. Corbet kept the shop, so that their conversation could take a freer
range in her absence.

"And so you tell me, Kate," said the former, "that the vagabond has come
back to the country?"

"I seen him with my own eyes," she replied; "there can be no mistake
about it."

"And he doesn't suspect you of takin' th