y, and wished to see as much of the
priest as possible, he resolved to give him his own way.

He had not long to wait, however. After about a minute's deep thought,
he expressed himself as follows--and it may be observed here, once for
all, that on appropriate occasions his conversation could rise and adapt
itself to the dignity of the subject, with a great deal of easy power,
if not of eloquence--"Now, sir," said he, "you will plaise to pay
attention to what I am about to say: Beware of Sir Thomas Gourlay--as a
Christian man, it is my duty to put you on your guard; but consider that
you ask me to involve myself in a matter of deep family interest and
importance, and yet, as I said, you keep yourself wrapped, up in a veil
of impenetrable mystery. Pray, allow me to ask, is Mr. Birney acquainted
with your name and secret?"

"He is," replied the other, "with both"

"Then, in that case," said the worthy priest, with very commendable
prudence, "I will walk over with you to his house, and if he assures me
personally that you are a gentleman in whose objects I may and ought
to feel an interest, I then say, that I shall do what I can for you,
although that may not be much. Perhaps I may put you in a proper train
to succeed. I will, with these conditions, give you a letter to an old
man in Dublin, who may give you, on this very subject, more information
than any other person I know, with one exception."

"My dear sir," replied the stranger, getting on his legs--"I am quite
satisfied with that proposal, and I feel that it is very kind of you to
make it."

"Yes, but you won't go," said the priest, "till you take some
refreshment. It's now past two o'clock."

"I am much obliged to you," replied the other, "but I never lunch."

"Not a foot you'll stir then till you take something--I don't want you
to lunch--a bit and a sup just--come, don't refuse now, for I say you
must."

The other smiled, and replied--"But, I assure you, my dear sir, I
couldn't--I breakfasted late."

"Not a matter for that, you must have something, I say--a drop of dram
then--pure poteen--or maybe you'd prefer a glass of wine? say which;
for you must taste either the one or the other"--and as he spoke, with a
good-humored laugh, he deliberately locked the door, and put the key in
his pocket--"It's an old proverb," he added, "that those who won't take
are never ready to give, and I'll think you after all but a poor-hearted
creature if you refuse it. At