nd wrapping
himself up in a thick frieze cloak, or great coat, with standing collar
that buttoned up across his face to the very eyes, and putting a shirt
or two, and some other small matters, into a little bundle--tying, at
the same time, a cotton kerchief over his hat and chin--he started
on his visit to the metropolis, having very much the appearance of a
determined character, whose dress and aspect were not, however, such
as to disarm suspicion. He felt much more careful of the baronet's
pocket-book than he did of his own, and contrived to place it in an
inside pocket, which being rather small for it, he was obliged to rip
a little in order to give it admittance. The case of pistols he slipped
into the pockets of his jock, one in each, without ever having once
examined them, or satisfied himself--simple man--as to whether they
were loaded or not. His own pocket-book was carelessly placed in the
right-hand pocket of the aforesaid jock, along with one of the pistols.

The night was agreeable, and nothing worth recording took place until
they had come about five miles on the side of ------, when a loud voice
ordered the coachman to stop.

"Stop the coach, sir!" said the voice, with a good deal of reckless and
bitter expression in it; "stop the coach, or you are a dead man."

Several pistols were instantly leveled at both coachman and guard, and
the same voice, which was thin, distinct, and wiry, proceeded--"Keep all
steady now, boys, and shoot the first that attempts to move. I will see
what's to be had inside."

He went immediately to the door of the "Fly," and opening it, held up
a dark lantern, which, whilst it clearly showed him the dress,
countenances, and condition of the passengers, thoroughly concealed his
own.

The priest happened to be next him, and was consequently the first
person on whom this rather cool demand was made.

"Come, sir," said the highwayman, "fork out, if you please; and be quick
about it, if you're wise."

"Give a body time, if you plaise," responded the priest, who at that
moment had about him all the marks and tokens of a farmer, or, at least,
of a man who wished to pass for one. "I think," he added, "if you knew
who you had, you'd not only pass me by, but the very coach I'm travelin'
in. Don't be unaisy, man alive," he proceeded; "have patience--for
patience, as everybody knows, is a virtue--do, then, have patience, or,
maybe--oh! ay!--here it is--here is what you want--the very t