e, and
having seen me, you must at once place yourself in the hands of the
police."

"In course, Father John; I was only on my way to Carrick when I
called here. In truth, I wanted a kind word from you before they put
me in that horrid place."

"My poor, dear boy, it's little comfort I can give you, except to
tell you that we all think,--that is McKeon and I, and the rest of
us,--that when the trial comes on they must acquit you--any jury must
acquit you; and that till that time comes, you may be sure whatever
can be done for you by the warmest friends, shall be done by us. But
you know, Thady, till that time does come--till the trial is over,
you must remain in prison."

"But, Father John, do you think they'll acquit me? do you think--does
Mr. McKeon think, they'll not find it murder?"

"Indeed he does, Thady, and so do I; and so I'm sure does the
Coroner, by what he said to the jury. I'm sure he didn't expect them
to find it murder at the inquest."

"That's great comfort, Father John; but you always had comfort for
me. But tell me, what's this I hear about Feemy and my father; is it
thrue they're both ill?"

"I've little comfort for you in that quarter, I'm afraid; but though
Feemy's ill, I don't think she's dangerously so. She will want time
to bring her round; but I've no doubt time will bring her round. She
has had a great deal to try her too; she was very fond of that man,
though he was so unworthy of her; and it isn't easy for a girl like
Feemy to get over at once the loss of him she loved so dearly."

"God send she may recover! I did it all for the best. Larry was long
ailing; I fear this has knocked him up intirely; what'll the tinants
do now at all? they'll have no one over thim but Keegan, I suppose:
he'll be resaving the rints now, Father John; won't he?"

"Don't mind that now, my boy; you've enough on your heart now without
troubling yourself about that."

"Well, then, I'll be wishing you good bye; I'll go on to Carrick."

"No, Thady, not to-night; stay here to-night. I would not have you go
in and give yourself up under cover of the dark. Early to-morrow--as
soon as Counsellor Webb will be up, you shall go with me to him.
He'll no doubt commit you; indeed he must do so; but that will be
better for you than lying all night in the guard-room at the police
station, and being dragged out in the morning, cold, comfortless, and
hungry."

Father John then got him supper and had a bed prepared for h