“I do, I am sorry to say.”

“An’ that the whole counthry is sworn Whiteboys, and that all the Whiteboys in sworn, of coorse, to put an end to them.  That’s the oath they take now, miss, by all accounts.”

“So they say Mogue.”

“Well, miss, would you believe it, that that fellow, the ungrateful hound that he is, that same Francis M’Carthy, is at the head of them, is one of their great leaders, and is often out at night wid the villains, leadin’ them on to disturbances, and directin’ them how to act; ay, an’ he doesn’t like a bone in Mr. O’Driscol’s body, any more than in your father’s.”

“Ha!—­ha!—­ha! very good, Mogue, but make it short—­ha!—­ha!—­ha!—­and who’s your authority for all this?”

“Himself, miss, for a great part of it; it was this day, he wanted myself to become a White-boy; but I had the grace o’ God about me, I hope, an’ resisted the temptation.  ‘Mogue,’ says he, ’you are a good Catholic, an’ ought to join us; we’re sworn to put down the tides altogether, an’ to banish Protestantism out o’ the counthry.’”

“But is not M’Carthy himself a Protestant?” said Julia.

“Not he, miss, he only turned to get a lob o’ money from the Great College in Dublin above; sure they provide for any one that will turn, but he’s a true Catholic at heart; air when the time comes he’ll show it.”

“And you say he joins their meetings at night, Mogue?”

“That I may be blest, but he does, miss; and since you must know the truth, he’s at one o’ them this very night.”

“Then you have told me a falsehood with respect to his fatigue?”

“He put me up to it, miss; and bid me say it; howandever my mind wasn’t aisy undher it; and now you know the truth.”

“And does he blacken his face as well as the other Whiteboys?”

“That hurt or harm may never come near me but he does that same; I have it from them that seen him and knew him, in spite o’ black face an’ all.”

“Ha! ha! ha!—­well good-night, Mogue, and many thanks for your most important and truthful secret.”

“Before you go, Miss Julia, one other word; listen, there a man worth a ship load of him, that’s in grate consate wid you—­remember the ould families, Miss Julia, an’ them that suffered for—­for—­their counthry.  Now here’ the kind o’ man I’d recommend you for a husband; don’t let a pair o’ red cheeks or black eyes lead you by the nose—­an’ what signifies a good figure, when neither the handsomest nor the strongest man can keep off a headache or a fit o’ the blackguard cholic—­bad luck to it—­when they come on one.  No, Miss Julia, always in the man that’s to be your husband, prefer good lastin’ color in the complection, an’ little matther about the color of the eyes if they always smile upon yourself—­then agin, never marry a man that swears, Miss Julia, but a man that’s fond of his prayers, and is given to piety—­sich men never use any but harmless oaths, sich as may I be blest, salvation to me, and the like—­that’s the kind o’ men to make a husband of, and I have sich a man in my eye for you.”