or a village."

"I cannot; my father was a soldier, quartered in various places, and I
'm not sure in what part of the island I was born."

"Tony Butler means Anthony Butler, I suppose?"

"Tony Butler!" cried the consul's friend, suddenly starting up, and
coming forward; "did _you_ say your name was Tony Butler?"

"Yes; that is my name."

"And are you from the North of Ireland,--near the Causeway?"

Tony nodded, while a flush of shame at the recognition covered his face.

"And do you know Dr. Stewart, the Presbyterian minister in that
neighborhood?"

"I should think so. The Burnside, where he lives, is not above a mile
from us."

"That's it,--the Burnside,--that's the name of it. I'm as glad as fifty
pounds in my pocket to see you, Mr. Butler," cried he, grasping Tony's
hand in both his own. "There 's not a man from this to England I 'd as
soon have met as yourself. I 'm Sam M'Grader, Robert M'Grader's brother.
You have n't forgot _him_, I hope?"

"That I haven't," cried Tony, warmly returning the honest pressure of
the other's hand. "What a stupid dog I have been not to remember that
you lived here! and I have a letter for you, too, from your brother!"

"I want no letter of introduction with you, Mr. Butler; come home with
me. You 're not going to sea this time;" and, taking a pen, he drew a
broad line of ink across Tony's name; and then turning, he whispered a
few words in the consul's ear.

"I hope," said the consul, "Mr. Butler is not offended at the freedom
with which I commented on him."

"Not in the least," said Tony, laughing. "I thought at the time, if
you knew me you would not have liked to have suggested my having been
a runaway convict; and now that you _do_ know me, the shame you feel is
more than enough to punish you."

"What could have induced you to go before the mast, Mr. Butler?" said
M'Gruder, as he led Tony away.

"Sheer necessity. I wanted to earn my bread."

"But you had got something,--some place or other?"

"I was a messenger, but I lost my despatches, and was ashamed to go home
and say so."

"Will you stop with me? Will you be a clerk?" asked the other; and a
certain timidity in his voice showed that he was not quite assured as he
spoke. "My business is like my brother's,--we 're 'in rags.'".

"And so should I be in a few days," laughed out Tony, "if I had n't met
you. I 'll be your clerk, with a heart and a half,--that is, if I be
capable; only don't give me anything whe