ity of wine--'Master Roland and I may change characters yet. Let us
see if he can play "Linton," as well as I can "Cashel."'"

"He's so deep, that I wouldn't say but there is something under all
this." And so they parted, sadly puzzled what interpretation to put on
conduct, the mere result of a passing intemperance; for so it is, your
"cunning men" are never reputed to be so deep by the world as when by
some accident they, have forgotten their craft.

CHAPTER XIV. MR. KENNYFECK AMONG THE BULLS

With a bright flie upon his hook,
He played mankind, as anglers play a fish.

COTTER.

An hour's sleep and a cold bath restored Linton to himself, and ere the
guests of Tubbermore were stirring, he was up and ready for the day.
He dressed with more than usual care, and having ordered a horse to
be saddled and a groom to follow him, he sauntered out into the park,
taking the road that led to the village.

The groom rapidly overtook him; and then, mounting, he rode at a brisk
trot down the road, and drew up at the door of the doctor's house. To
his question, "If Mr. Tiernay were at home?" he received for answer,
that "He had set out for Limerick that morning;" nor did the servant
know when he might be expected back.

For a moment this intelligence appeared to derange his plans; but he
rallied soon, and turning his horse's head towards Tubbermore, muttered
to himself, "As well,--perhaps better as it is." He rode fast till he
gained the wood, and then dismounting, he gave the horse to the groom,
with directions to go home, as he would return on foot.

He stood looking after the horses as they retired, and it seemed as
if his thoughts were following them, so intent was his gaze; but, long
after they had disappeared, he remained standing in the same place, his
features still wearing the same expression of highly-wrought occupation.
The spot where he stood was a little eminence, from which the view
stretched, upon one side, over the waving woods of the demesne, and, on
the other, showed glimpses of the Shannon, as, in its sweeping curves,
it indented the margin of the grounds. Perhaps not another point could
be found which displayed so happily the extent and importance of
the demesne, and yet concealed so well whatever detracted from its
picturesque effect. The neighboring village of Derra-heeny--a poor,
straggling, ruinous street of thatched hovels, like most Irish
villages--was altogether hidden from view