“Honest!” replied the priest; “the vagabond’s as honest a vagabond as ever lived.  You may trust him in anything and everything.  When I call him a vagabond, I only mean it in a kind and familiar sense; and, by the way, I must give you an explanation upon the subject of my pony.  You must have heard me call him ‘Freney the Robber’ a few minutes ago.  Now, not another sense did I give him that name in but in an ironical one, just like lucus a non lucendo, or, in other words, because the poor creature is strictly honest and well tempered.  And, indeed, there are some animals much more moral in their disposition than others.  Some are kind, affectionate, benevolent, and grateful; and some, on the other hand, are thieving robbers and murderers.  No, sir, I admit that I was wrong, and, so to speak, I owe Freney an apology for having given him a bad name; but then again I have made it up to him in other respects.  Now, you’ll scarcely believe what I am going to tell you, although you may, for not a word of lie in it.  When Freney sometimes is turned out into my fields, he never breaks bounds, nor covets, so to speak, his neighbor’s property, but confines himself strictly and honestly to his own; and I can tell you it’s not every horse would do that, or man either.  He knows my voice, too, and, what is more, my very foot, for he will whinny when he hears it, and before he sees me at all.”

“Pray,” said the stranger, exceedingly amused at this narrative, “how does your huge servant get on?”

“Is it Mat Ruly?—­why, sir, the poor boy’s as kind-hearted and benevolent, and has as sharp an appetite as ever.  He told me that he cried yesterday when bringing a little assistance to a poor family in the neighborhood.  But, touching this matter on which you are engaged, will you be good enough to write to me from time to time? for I shall feel anxious to hear how you get on.”

The stranger promised to do so, and after having received two letters from him they shook hands and separated.

We have stated before that Dandy Dulcimer had a sweetheart in the service of Sir Thomas Gourlay.  Soon after the interview between the stranger and Dandy, and while the former had gone to get the letters from Father M’Mahon, this same sweetheart, by name Alley Mahon, came to have a word or two with Paudeen Gair, or Pat Sharpe.  When Paudeen saw her, he imputed the cause of her visit to something connected with Dandy Dulcimer, his cousin; for, as the latter had disclosed to him the revelation which Alley had made, he took it for granted that the Dandy had communicated to her the fact of his being about to accept service with the stranger at the inn, and to proceed with him to Dublin.  And, such, indeed, was the actual truth.  Paudeen had, on behalf of Dandy, all but arranged the matter with the stranger a couple of days before, Dandy being a consenting party, so that nothing was wanting but an interview between the latter and the stranger, in order to complete the negotiation.