This explanation, however, came too late.  Greatrakes’s impressions were unchanged.

“I think I will cure him,” he proceeded; “but after his recovery let him be cautious in taking any drink unless from the hands of his mother or his father.”

He then placed his hands over his face and chest, which he kept rubbing for at least a quarter of an hour, when, to their utter astonishment, Charles pronounced himself in as good health as he had ever enjoyed in his lift.

“This, sir,” said he, “is wonderful; why, I am perfectly restored to health.  As I live, this man must have the power of God about him to be able to effect such an extraordinary cure:  and he has also cured my darling Alice.  What can I say?  Father, give him a hundred—­five hundred pounds.”

Greatrakes smiled.

“You don’t know, it seems,” he replied, “that I do not receive remuneration for any cures I may effect.  I am wealthy and independent, and I fear that if I were to make the wonderful gift which God has bestowed on me the object of mercenary gain, it might be withdrawn from me altogether.  My principle is one of humanity and benevolence.  I will remain in Rathfillan for a fortnight, and shall see you again,” he added, addressing himself to Charles.  “Now,” he proceeded, “mark me, you will require neither drinks nor medicine of any description.  Whatever drinks you take, take them at the common table of the family.  There are circumstances connected with your case which, as a magistrate of the county, I am I resolved to investigate.”

He looked sternly at Woodward as he uttered the last words, and then took his departure to Rathfillan, having first told Barney Casey to call on him the next day.

After Greatrakes had gone, Woodward repaired to the room of his mother, in a state of agitation which we cannot describe.

“Mother,” said he, “unless we can manage that old peer and his niece, I am a lost man.”

“Do not be uneasy,” replied his mother; “whilst you were at Ballyspellan I contrived to manage that.  Ask me nothing about it; but every arrangement is made, and you are to be married this day week.  Keep yourself prepared for a settled case.”

What the mother’s arguments in behalf of the match may have been, we cannot pretend to say.  We believe that Miss Riddle’s attachment to his handsome person and gentlemanly manners overcame all objections on the part of her uncle, and nothing now remained to stand in the way of their union.

The next day Barney Casey waited upon Greatrakes, according to appointment, when the following conversation took place between them:—­

“Now,” said Greatrakes, solemnly, “what is your name?”

As he put the question with a stern and magisterial air, his tablets and pencil in hand, which he did with the intention of awing Barney into a full confession of the exact truth—­a precaution which Barney’s romance of the windy colic induced him to take,—­“I say,” he repeated, “what’s your name?”