ng, as I came to dinner, I saw him talking to the landlord's
nephew, in the hall."

"Well, and what of all that? If any one should keep account of where and
how often he had seen either of us, this week past, might he not conjure
up suspicions fully as strong as your's? Let us begin to take fright
at shadows, and we shall make but a sorry hand of it, when real dangers
approach us."

"The shadows are the warnings, Mark, and the wise man never neglects a
warning."

"He who sees thunder in every dark cloud above him, is but the fool of
his own fears," said Mark, rudely, and walked towards the window. "Is
that anything like your friend, Talbot?" added he, as he beheld the dark
outline of a figure, which seemed standing, intently looking up at the
window.

"The very fellow!" cried Talbot; for at the moment a passing gleam of
light fell upon the figure, and marked it out distinctly.

"There is something about him I can half recognize myself," said Mark;
"but he is so muffled up with great-coat and cravat, I cannot clearly
distinguish him."

"Indeed! Do, for heaven's sake, think of where you saw him, and when,
Mark; for I own my anxiety about him is more than common."

"I'll soon find out for you," said Mark, suddenly seizing his hat;--but
at the same instant the door opened, and a waiter appeared.

"There's a gentleman below stairs, Mr. Talbot, would be glad to speak a
few words with you."

Talbot motioned, by an almost imperceptible gesture, that Mark should
retire into the adjoining room; and then, approaching the waiter, asked,
in a low cautious voice, if the stranger were known to him.

"No, sir--never saw him before. He seems like one from the country: Mr.
Crossley says he's from the south."

"Show him up," said Talbot, hurriedly; and, as the waiter left the
room, he seated himself in his chair, in an attitude of well-assumed
carelessness and ease. This was scarcely done, when the stranger
entered, and closed the door behind him.

"Good evening to you, Mr. Talbot. I hope I see your honor well," said
he, in an accent of very unmistakable Kerry Doric.

"Good evening to you, friend," replied Talbot. "My memory is not so
good as yours, or I'd call you by your name also."

"I'm Lanty Lawler, sir--that man that sold your honor the dark chesnut
mare down in the county Kerry, last winter. I was always wishing to see
your honor again, by reason of that same.

"How so?" said Talbot, getting suddenly paler, but w