will die--
executor--botheration--and so on."

"I hope she has left you a good legacy, sir," replied I.

"Legacy--humph--can't tell--silver tea-pot--suit of black, and so on.
Long journey--won't pay--can't be helped--old women always troublesome
alive or dead--bury her, come back--and so on."

PART TWO, CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

I DENY MY MASTER.

Although Mr Cophagus was very communicative in his own way, he had no
curiosity with regard to others, and the conversation dropped. The
other two had also asked all the questions which they wished, and we
all, as if by one agreement, fell back in our seats, and shut our eyes,
to court sleep. I was the only one who wooed it in vain. Day broke, my
companions were all in repose, and I discontinued my reveries, and
examined their physiognomies. Mr Cophagus was the first to whom I
directed my attention. He was much the same in face as when I had left
him, but considerably thinner in person. His head was covered with a
white nightcap, and he snored with emphasis. The professor of music was
a very small man, with mustachios: his mouth was wide open; and one
would have thought that he was in the full execution of a bravura. The
third person, who had stated himself to be an agent, was a heavy,
full-faced, coarse-looking personage, with his hat over his eyes, and
his head bent down on his chest, and I observed that he had a small
packet in one of his hands, with his forefinger twisted through the
string. I should not have taken further notice, had not the name of _T.
Iving_, in the corner of the side on which was the direction, attracted
my attention. It was the name of Melchior's London correspondent, who
had attempted to bribe Timothy. This induced me to look down and read
the direction of the packet, and I clearly deciphered, Sir Henry de
Clare, Bart., Mount Castle, Connemara. I took out my tablets, and wrote
down the address. I certainly had no reason for so doing, except that
nothing should be neglected, as there was no saying what might turn out.
I had hardly replaced my tablets when the party awoke, made a sort of
snatch at the packet, as if recollecting it, and wishing to ascertain if
it were safe, looked at it, took off his hat, let down the window, and
then looked round upon the other parties.

"Fine morning, sir," said he to me, perceiving that I was the only
person awake.

"Very," replied I, "very fine; but I had rather be walking over the
mountains of Co