eron. "What brings a living person," said the man in black,
"on this pathway? I shall make legal capture of you, Larry Sweeney, for
trespassing. You have no business here." "I have come," said Larry,
plucking up courage, "to bring your honour's glory a letter from a
company of gintlemin with whom I had the pleasure of spending the evening,
underneath the ould church of Inistubber." "A letter," said the man in
black, "where is it?" "Here, my lord," said Larry. "Ho!" cried the black
gentleman, on opening it, "I know the handwriting. It won't do, however,
my lad,--I see they want to throw dust in my eyes." "Whew," thought Larry,
"that's the very thing. 'Tis for that the ould Dublin boy gave me the box.
I'd lay a tinpenny to a brass farthing that it's filled with Lundy Foot."
Opening the box, therefore, he flung its contents right into the fiery
eyes of the man in black, while he was still occupied with reading the
letter,--and the experiment was successful. "Curses--tche-tche-tche,--
Curses on it," exclaimed he, clapping his hand before his eyes, and
sneezing most lustily.--"Run, you villians, run," cried Larry, to the
ghosts--"run, you villians, now that his eyes are off of you--O master,
master! Sir Theodore, jewel! run to the right-hand side, make for the
bright speck, and God give you luck."

He had forgotten his injunction. The moment the word was uttered he felt
the silvery ground sliding from under him; and with the swiftness of
thought he found himself on the flat of his back, under the very niche of
the old church wall whence he had started, dizzy and confused with a
measureless tumble. The emancipated ghosts floated in all directions,
emitting their shrill and stridulous cries in the gleaming expanse. Some
were again gathered by their old conductor; some scudding about at
random, took the right hand path, others the left. Into which of them Sir
Theodore struck, is not recorded; but as he had heard the direction, let
us hope that he made the proper choice. Larry had not much time given him
to recover from his fall, for almost in an instant he heard an angry
snorting rapidly approaching, and looking up, whom should he see but the
gentleman in black, with eyes gleaming more furiously than ever, and his
horns (for, in his haste, he had let his hat fall) relieved in strong
shadow against the moon. Up started Larry--away ran his pursuer after him.
The safest refuge was, of course, the church,--thither ran our hero--and