is
old domestic on the shoulder, and at once addressed him by name.

The ostler turned deadly pale, but in a moment the Colonel dispelled
his alarm.

"You have nothing to apprehend from me, Pat. He who struck the blow,
which was generally laid to your charge, confessed when dying that
he was the guilty man, and that you were innocent of all blame beyond
mixing in the affray."

Down popped the suspected culprit on his knees, and in a low but
earnest voice he returned thanks to heaven.

"I understood you had gone to America, or I would have endeavored in
some way to have apprised you, that a murderer by report, you were but
a rioter in reality."

"I did go there. Colonel, but I could not rest. I knew that I was
innocent: but who would believe my oath? I might have done well enough
there; but I don't know why, the ould country was always at my heart,
and I used to cry when I thought of the mornings that I whipped in the
hounds, and the nights that I danced merrily in the servants' hall,
when piper or fiddler came,--and none left the house without meat,
drink, and money, and a blessing on the hand that gave it."

"What brought you here, so close to your former home, and so likely to
be recognized?"

"To see if I couldn't clear myself, and get ye'r honor to take me
back. Mark that dark man! He's owner of this horse. Go to the bottom
of the garden, and I'll be with you when he returns to the house
again."

My father walked carelessly away, unclosed the garden gate, and left
the dark stranger with his former whipper-in. Throwing himself on a
bench in a rude summer-house, he began to think over the threatening
aspect of affairs, and devise, if he could, some plan to deliver his
family from the danger, which on every side it became too evident was
alarmingly impending.

He was speedily rejoined by his old domestic.

"Marked ye that dark man well?"

"Yes; and a devilish suspicious-looking gentleman he is."

"His looks do not belie him. No matter whatever may occur through it,
you must quit the town directly. Call for post-horses, and as mine is
the first turn, I'll be postillion. Don't show fear or suspicion--and
leave the rest to me. Beware of the landlord--he's a colonel of
the rebels, and a bloodier-minded villain is not unhanged. Hasten
in--every moment is worth gold--and when the call comes, the horses
will be to the carriage in the cracking of a whip, Don't notice me,
good or bad."

He spoke, hopped over