“An’ sure, Miss Julia, you might a known, for some time past that I knew it; didn’t I look like one that was up to it?  An’ listen hether, Miss Julia, my family was all honor bright; we wor great people in our day; sure we owned a big sweep of country long ago an’ wor great sogers.  We fought against the Sassenaghs, the dirty English bodaghs, an’ because there was a lot of us ever an’ always hanged from time to time, that’s the raison why we have sich a hatred to the English law still, one an’ all of us.  Sure my grandfather, glory be to God, was hanged for killin’ a Sassenagh gauger, and my own father, Miss Julia, did his endeavors to be as great as the best of them, knowin’ no other way for to vex and revinge himself upon the dirty Sassenaghs of the country; for sure, you know yourself, it’s full o’ them’—­ay, about us in all directions.  Be borried a horse in a private way from one o’ them, but then he escaped from that; he next had a ’bout at what they call’d perjury, although it was well known to us all that it was only his thumb he kissed, and, any how, the thing was done upon a Protestant Bible; but, at all events, he went an’ honest and honorably, as far as gettin’ himself transported for parjury.  I hope you understhand, Miss Julia, that I’m accountin’ for any disparagin’ observations you might a’ heard against us, an’ showin’ you why we acted as we did.”

“But, Mogue,” said she, smiling at this most incomprehensible piece of family history, “I hope you don’t intend to imitate the example or to share the fate of so many of your family!”

“You really hope so; now do you really hope so, Miss Julia?”

“Unquestionably; for granting you marry, as, I dare say you intend, would it not be a melancholy prospect for your wife to—­”

“Why, then I do intend it; are you not satisfied, Miss Julia? and what is more, although it’s my intention to violate the law in a private and confidential way, still I have no intention of bein’ either hanged or transported by it; that I may be happy if I have—­No, for the sake of that wife, Miss Julia, do you understand, it’s my firm intention to die in my bed if I can; I hope you feel that there’s comfort in that.”

“To whatever woman you make happy Mogue, there will be.  Well, but, Mogue, tell me; had you a good day’s sport?”

“Sorra worse then; God pardon me for swearin’,” he replied.  “There riz a mist in the mountains that a man could build a house wid, if there was any implements to be found, hard and sharp enough to cut it.  All we got was a brace of grouse and a snipe or two.”

“And—­hem—­well but—­hem—­why Mogue, you give but a very miserable account of the proceedings of the day.  Had you any one with you?—­Oh, yes, by the way, did I not see Mr. M’Carthy go out with you this morning?”

“Yes, Miss Julia, you did; he went out wid me, sure enough,” replied Mogue, drily, and with rather a dissatisfied tone.

“He is a—­hem, does he shoot well?”