tion,
dropped off asleep. "I will see him," said he, rising, without partaking
of the soup that was just placed before him; "the poor fellow may
perhaps be ill." The landlord led the way to the end of the house,
where, on a heap of chestnut leaves, the usual bedding of the cattle
in these regions, a large strongly built man, poorly clad and
travel-stained, lay sound asleep. Tony took the lantern and held it to
his face. How was it he knew the features? He knew them, and yet not the
man. He was sure that the great massive brow and that large strong cheek
were not seen by him for the first time, and though he was sorry to
disturb the poor fellow's slumber, he could not control his impatience
to resolve the doubt; and, stooping down, he shook him gently by the
shoulder.

"What is it?" cried the man, starting up to a sitting posture; "what is
it now?"

"You are a countryman of mine," said Tony, "and I'm trying to think if
we have not met before."

The man rose to his feet, and, taking the lantern from Tony's hand,
held it up to his face. "Don't you know me, sir," cried he; "don't you
remember me?"

"I do, and I do not," muttered Tony, still puzzled.

"Don't you mind the day, sir, that you was near been run over in London,
and a man pulled you out just as the horses was on top o' you?"

"And are you the man? Are you the poor fellow whose bundle I carried
off?"--but he stopped, and, grasping the man's hand, shook it cordially
and affectionately. "By what chance do I find you here?"

The man looked about, as if to see that he was not overheard; and Tony,
marking the caution of the gesture, said, "None can understand us here.
Don't be afraid to say what you like; but first of all, come and share
my supper with me."

It was not without a modest reluctance that the poor fellow took his
seat at the table; and, indeed, for some time so overcome was he by the
honor accorded him, that he scarcely ate at all. If Tony Butler was no
finished conversationalist, able to lead the talk of a dinner-table, yet
in the tact that pertains to making intercourse with an inferior
easy and familiar he had not many his equal; and before the meal was
finished, he slapped him familiarly on the shoulder, and said, "Rory
Quin, here's your health, and a long life to you!"

"How did you know my name, sir?" asked the poor fellow, whose face
glowed with delight at the flattery of such a recognition.

"At first I did not trust my memory, Rory, fo