d in some deep mystery is unquestionable. I got a letter,
however, from an amiable Roman Catholic clergyman, the parish priest
of Ballytrain, to a man named Dunphy, who lives in a street called
Constitution Hill, on the north side of the city."

"He is a relation, I understand, of Edward Corbet, who died in my
service," replied her ladyship, with an interest that seemed instantly
to awaken her. "Well," said she, eagerly, "what was the result? Did you
present the letter?"

"I presented the letter, my lady; and had at first strong hopes--no, not
at first--but in the course of our conversation. He dropped unconscious
hints that induce me to suspect he knows more about the fate of your son
than he wishes to acknowledge. It struck me that he might have been an
agent in this black business, and, on that account, that he is afraid
to criminate himself. I have, besides," he added, smilingly, "had the
gratification to have heard a prophecy uttered, by which I was assured
of ultimate success in my efforts to trace out your son;--a prophecy
uttered under and accompanied by circumstances so extraordinary and
incomprehensible as to confound and amaze me."

He then detailed to her the conversation he had had with old Dunphy and
the fortune-teller, suppressing all allusion to what tha latter had said
concerning Lucy and himself. After which, Lady Gourlay paused for some
time, and seemed at a loss what construction to put upon it.

"It is very strange," she at length observed; "that woman has been here,
I think, several times, visiting her late brother, who left her some
money at his death. Is she not extremely pale and wild-looking?"

"So much so, madam, that there is something awful and almost
supernatural-looking in the expression of her eyes and features. I have
certainly never seen such a face before on a denizen of this life."

"It is strange," replied her ladyship, "that she should have taken upon
her the odious character of a fortune-teller. I was not aware of that.
Corbet, I know, had a sister, who was deranged for some time; perhaps
this is she, and that the gift of fortune-telling to which she pretends
may be a monomania or some other delusion that her unhappy malady has
left behind it."

"Very likely, my lady," replied the other; "nothing more probable. The
fact you mention accounts both for her strange appearance and conduct.
Still I must say, that so far as I had an opportunity of observing,
there did not appear to