d, good-for-nothin' leg o' yours; an' mark my words, let there be no
shirkin' now, for on it must go, an' will, too. If I see that Hanlon,
I'll tell him you want to see him, Master Richard; an' now that I'm on
it, I had betther say a word to you before I go; bekaise when I do go,
you'll have no one to guide you, God help you, or to set you a Christian
patthern. You see that man sittin' there wid that bad leg, stretched out
upon the chair?"

"I do, Jemmy--ha, ha, ha! Well, what next?"

"That man was the worst patthern ever you had. In the word, don't folly
his example in anything--in any one single thing, an' then there may be
some chance o' you still. I'll want you by-an'-by in the study, I tould
you."

These last words were addressed to his master, at whom he looked as
one might be supposed to do at a man whose case, in a moral sense, was
hopeless; after which, having uttered a groan that seemed to imitate
the woeful affliction he was doomed, day by day, to suffer, he left the
room.

It is not our intention, neither is it necessary that we should enter
into the particulars of the interview which Hanlon had that morning with
young Dick. It is merely sufficient to state that they had a private
conversation in the old magistrate's office, at which the female
whom Hanlon had visited the night before was present. When this was
concluded, Hanlon walked with her a part of the way, evidently holding
serious and interesting discourse touching a subject which we may
presume bore upon the extraordinary proceedings of the previous night.
He closed by giving her directions how to proceed on her journey; for it
seemed that she was unacquainted with the way, being, like himself, but
a stranger in the neighborhood:--"You will go on," said he, "till you
reach the height at Aughindrummon, from that you will see the trees at
the Rabbit Bank undher you; then keep the road straight till you come to
where it crosses the ford of the river: a little on this side, and where
the road turns to your right, you will find the Grey Stone, an' jist
opposite that you will see the miserable cabin where the Black Prophet
lives."

"Why do they call him the Black Prophet?"

"Partly, they tell me, from his appearance, an' partly bekaise he takes
delight in prophesyin' evil."

"But could he have anything to do wid the murdher?"

"I was thinkin' about that," he replied, "and had some talk this mornin'
wid a man that's livin' a long time--indeed tha