The bishop, on hearing this, stood, and taking off his hat, raised his right hand, and said:  “May the blessing of the Almighty God rest upon her, and guard her from the snares of those who would make her unhappy!  But, Reilly, as you say you are determined, if possible, to rescue her from ruin, you know that if you go at large in your usual dress you will unquestionably be taken.  I advise you, then, to disguise yourself in such a way as that you will not, if possible, be known.”

“Such, my lord, is my intention—­but who is this? what—­eh—­yes, ’tis Fergus O’Reilly, a distant and humble relation of mine who is also in disguise.  Well, Fergus, where have you been for some time past?”

“It would be difficult to tell that, God knows; I have been everywhere—­but,” he added in a whisper, “may I speak freely?”

“As free as the wind that blows, Fergus.”

“Well, then, I tell you that Sir Robert Whitecraft has engaged me to be on the lookout for you, and said that I would be handsomely rewarded if I could succeed in enabling the scoundrel to apprehend you.”

“But how did that come about, Fergus?”

“Faith, he met me one day—­you see I have got a bag at my back—­and taking me for a beggarman, stopped me on the road.  ’I say, you, poor man,’says he, ‘what’s your name?’ ‘Paddy M’Fud,’ says I—­’I belong to the M’Fuds of Ballymackknockem.’  ‘You’re a beggar,’ says he, ’and travel from place to place about the country.’  ‘It’s true enough, your honor,’ I replied, ’I travel about a good deal, of coorse, and it’s only that way that I get my bit and sup.’  ’Do you know the notorious villain called Willy Reilly’?’ ’Not by sight, your honor, but I have often heard of him.  Wasn’t he in love with the beautiful Cooleen Bawn, Squire Folliard’s daughter?’ ‘That’s not the question between us,’ he said, ‘but if you enable me to catch Reilly, I will give you twenty pounds.’  ‘Well, your honor,’ says I, ’lave the thing to myself; if he is to be had it’ll go hard but I’ll find him.’  ‘Well, then,’ says he, ’if you can tell me where he is I will give you twenty pounds, as I said.’  ’Well, sir,’ says I, ’I expect to hear from you; I am not sure he’s in the country—­indeed they say he is not—­but if he is, I think I’ll find him for you;’ and so we parted.”

“Fergus,” said Reilly, “I feel that a disguise is necessary.  Here is money to enable you to purchase one.  I do not know where you may be able to find me; but go and buy me a suit of frieze, rather worn, a dingy caubeen hat, coarse Connemara stockings, and a pair of clouted brogues; some course linen, too; because the fineness of my shirts, should I happen to be apprehended, might betray me.  Leave them with widow Buckley, and I can find them there.”