throat's cut acrass, and two wud the tails taken off them, poor things!" "Well," said I, "is this the return I am getting for the substantial acts of kindness which I have taken every opportunity of rendering to the poor of the neighbourhood? I thought I was an indulgent landlord, and every way a friend to my poorer tenantry." "Read this, Sir," said Nolan, handing me a bit of dirty paper, tied about with a thread "may be that wud throw some light upon the bizness, I got id tied roun' the neck iv wan iv the dead crathurs." I opened the following:

"This is to let Mr.

paper and read the

know, that af he

"wishes to avide another visit from them that "nickt the sheep an' the sturks, he'll give up "makin' convarts, an' corruptin' the people to "lave the thrue Church-let Father Butler be "his last, or it'll be worser for im'-an' let "'im be afther havin' no hand in defraadin' "the Church iv her 'onest du, if not

This document had no signature. "Lanty," said I, “do you know a tall monster of a fellow, called Slevin, or Delvin, or Devlin, or some such

name? he's a pilgrim-I suppose you under. stand what that is, and carries half a dozen of bags about him?” "Know 'im, Sir, I do well, he's a great croonheen* iv Paddy Dimnick's for prayin'-an' has a son, a young sogarth, in Maynewth-Owneen, they call 'im, that used to go about wud the ould fellow when a gorsoon; and I'll warrant when he gets the robes upon im' he'll be harder to spake to, an' more overbearin' nor his betthers, for that's always the case, Sir." "The very same," I observed. "Do you know, Lanty, that I have a strong suspicion of that rascal ?" "Why then, Sir, between you an' me, he's nothin' else; although there's not three in the parish that does'nt take 'im for a sint, an' thinks the very ground he walks on as good as consecrated; an' yet for all that, I would'nt put the same thrick past 'im; and may be id won't warm Paddy Dimnick's heart to hear iv id, any how, for he hates every bone in yer skin, yer honour, ever since it's reported that you turned Father Butler to

Companion.

your Church." "Lanty, you must find out that fellow for me, he's probably about Dimnick's, and to tell you the truth, I suspect both; but trace Devlin for me if you can, and I'll have him examined." "I declare, yer honour," Nolan replied, "I wud rather you wud'nt put id an me, to have any hand in id-you know, Sir, I'm a poor strugglin' man, wud a family iv small childher to get bread for, an' if I got a dog's knock, Sir, or any thing happen'd me, that-a-way, what 'ud poor Ailey do wud the wanes-I'm not very well liked, Sir, as id is, ever since I tuck the Bible, an' didn't give id back, as I was ordhered, so that this wud be a good excuse for them to get a hole in my skirt." "If you think they would direct their revenge against you, also, Nolan," said I, "why you are right in having nothing to do with that fellow-is it he you fear?" I inquired. "Jist him, for wan, Sir, for whin he'd be in another part iv the kingdom, he wud make me suffer for id, for that fellow is as cunnin, Sir, and as full iv revenge as a fox." "Well, in that case," said I, "you had better say nothing more about it; but have Magrath the constable here at two

o'clock, for I'll be back from Mr. Butler's by that time; at any rate, I'll offer a handsome reward for the discovery of the perpetrators." "I think Devlin will be at Larry Linahan's today, Sir, if he's in the counthry, as there's a station there." "Very well," said I, "we shall try as soon as I return."

When I arrived at Mr. Butler's I found him confined to his bed, for up to this day he had been able to move about. I know not whether it is always fancy that produces the impression; but so it is, that whenever we know there is a fellow-creature, either dying or dead, we think there is a gloomy stillness, a dismal solemnity, brooding over the very mansion, that is strongly contrasted with the busy stir of life and health. In the words of the poet, here

Pale melancholy sits, and round her throws
A death-like silence and a dread repose:

Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene,
Shades every flower, and darkens every green-
Deepens the murmurs of the falling floods,
And breathes a browner horror o'er the woods.

On entering the gate which led into the small demesne belonging to the house, I met

one of the servants, and on inquiring how Father James was-the poor fellow burst into tears, as he replied, "Ah! Sir, he fought it out long and patiently; but he is down at last: I think he'll scarcely over to-morrow.The priest and the minister are both with him at present, and he expects you, Sir; I believe we'll soon have Dr. Upton, too-I hear he came from England, for no other purpose but to see him." I proceeded to the house immediately, and such was the hold which he had gained upon my affections, that I experienced a sinking of the heart, resembling that which a man would feel for the approaching death of a child or brother.The day, too, was still and breeze was abroad, and the

gloomy, not a

shadow of the

reflected from

beeches and poplars that were the dark waters of the fish-pond, as I passed it, were motionless as death; not even a volume of smoke rose from the house-no servant appeared-the pigeons on the roof of the dove-cote, sat as if they had been changed into stone; and a solitary sparrow was perched upon the house-top, with its little head