he came in; she immediately recognised
McShane, and the sudden rush into her memory of what might be the issue
of the meeting, was so overwhelming, that she dropped into a chair and
fainted.

Mary ran for some water, and while she did so, McShane and O'Donahue
went to the assistance of Mrs Austin. The veil was removed; and, of
course, she was immediately recognised by McShane, who was now fully
convinced that Austin and Rushbrook were one and the same person.

Upon the first signs of returning animation, McShane had the delicacy to
withdraw, and making a sign to the gaoler, he and O'Donahue repaired to
the cell of our hero. The greeting was warm on both sides. McShane was
eager to enter upon the subject; he pointed out to Joey that he knew who
committed the murder; indeed, plainly told him, that it was the deed of
his father. But Joey, as before, would admit nothing; he was satisfied
with their belief in his innocence, but, having made up his mind to
suffer, could not be persuaded to reveal the truth, and McShane and
O'Donahue quitted the cell, perceiving that, unless most decided steps
were taken, without the knowledge of our hero, there was no chance of
his being extricated from his melancholy fate. Struck with admiration
at his courage and self-devotion towards an unworthy parent, they bade
him farewell, simply promising to use all their endeavours in his
behalf.

CHAPTER FORTY NINE.

THE INTERVIEW.

According to their arrangement, on the following morning, McShane and
O'Donahue called upon Mr Trevor, and after half an hour's consultation,
it was at last decided that they should make an attempt to see Austin,
and bide the issue of the interview, when they would again communicate
with the lawyer, who was to return to town on the following day. They
then set off as fast as four horses could convey them, and drove direct
to the Hall, where they arrived about six o'clock in the evening.

It had so happened that Austin had the evening before inquired for his
wife. The servant reported to him what Mary had told them, and Austin,
who was in a fidgety humour, had sent for the coachman who had driven
the carriage, to inquire whether Mrs Austin's friend was very ill. The
coachman stated that he had not driven over to the place in question,
but to the nearest post-town, where Mrs Austin had taken a postchaise.
This mystery and concealment on the part of his wife was not very
agreeable to a man of Mr Austin's