f reflection, however, he kept to himself, for it
is necessary to state here, that Hanlon was not at all in the secret of
the plot against Mave. Henderson had, on an earlier occasion sounded him
upon it, but perceived at once that his scruples could not be overcome,
and that of course it would be dangerous to repose confidence in him.

The next evening was that immediately preceding the assizes, and it was
known that Dalton's trial was either the second or third on the list,
and must consequently come on, on the following day. The pedlar and
Hanlon sat in a depressed and melancholy mood at the fire; an old crone
belonging to the village, who had been engaged to take care of the house
during the absence of Hanlon's aunt, sat at the other side, occasionally
putting an empty dudeen into her mouth, drawing it hopelessly, and
immediately knocking the bowl of it in a fretful manner, against the
nail of her left thumb.

"What's the matther, Ailey?" asked the pedlar; "are you out o' tobaccy?"

"Throth it's time for you to ax--ay am I; since I ate my dinner, sorra
puff I had."

"Here then," he replied, suiting the action to the word, and throwing
a few halfpence into her lap; "go to Peggy Finigan's an' buy yourself a
couple of ounces, an' smoke rings round you; and listen to me, go down
before you come back to Bamy Keeran's an' see whether he has my shoes
done or not, an' tell him from me, that if they're not ready for me
tomorrow mornin', I'll get him exkummunicated."

When the crone had gone out, the pedlar proceeded:

"Don't be cast down yet, I tell you; there's still time enough, an' they
may be here still."

"Be here still! why, good God! isn't the thrial to come on to-morrow,
they say?"

"So itself; you may take my word for it, that even if he's found guilty,
they won't hang him, or any man of his years."

"Don't be too sure o' that," replied Hanlon; "but indeed what could I
expect afther dependin' upon a foolish dhrame?"

"Never mind; I'm still of the opinion that everything may come about
yet. The Prophet's wife was with Father Hanratty, tellin' him something,
an' he is to call here early in the mornin'; he bid me tell you so."

"When did you see him?"

"To day at the cross roads, as he was goin' to a sick call.

"But where's the use o' that, when they're not here? My own opinion is,
that she's either sick, or if God hasn't said it, maybe dead. How can
we tell if ever she has seen or found the man you sent