In less than a quarter of an hour Sir Robert and his crew were in stirrups, and on their way to Tom Brady’s; and in the meantime, too, the sheriff, dressed as he was, in black, came outside the door, from time to time, more in apprehension of a plot against his life than of a visit from Whitecraft, which he knew must end in nothing.  Now, Whitecraft and his followers, on approaching Brady’s house, caught a glimpse of him—­a circumstance which not only confirmed the baronet in the correctness of the information he had received, but also satisfied the sheriff that the mendicant had not deceived him.  Rapid was the rush they made to Brady’s house, and the very first that entered it was the Red Rapparee.  He was about to seize the sheriff, whom he pretended not to know; but in a moment Sir Robert and the rest entered, when, on recognizing each other, an explanation took place, with all due apologies to the functionary, who said: 

“The mistake, Sir Robert, is very natural.  I certainly have a clerical appearance, as I am in mourning for my wife.  I trust you will neither hang nor transport me.”

“I am very sorry indeed, Mr. Oxley; but I only acted on information received.”

“And I don’t doubt, Sir Robert,” replied the sheriff, “that the person who gave you the information may have been deceived himself by my ecclesiastical looking dress.  I am sorry you have had so much trouble for nothing; but, upon my word, I feel extremely delighted that I am not a priest.”

In the meantime the sheriff had recognized the Rapparee, by a single glance, as the man that had robbed him.  He was now certain; but he took care not to bestow the least sign of recognition upon him; so far from that, he appeared to pay no attention whatsoever to the men; but chatted with Sir Robert for some time, who returned home deeply disappointed, though without imputing blame to his informant, who, he thought, was very naturally misled by the dress of the sheriff.  Fergus, however, apprehensive of being involved in the prosecution of the Rapparee, and thus discovered, made a point to avoid the sheriff, whose cross-examination a consciousness of his previous life led him to dread.  Still, he had, to a certain extent, though not definitely, resolved to become evidence against him; but only, as we have said, on the condition of previously receiving a full pardon for his own misdeeds, which was granted.  For upwards of a month, however, the sheriff was confined to his bed, having caught, whilst in Brady’s, the malignant fever which then raged throughout the country.

CHAPTEE XVIII.—­Something not very Pleasant for all Parties.