as was evident, not merely from the disjointed manner of their pronunciation but a strong smell of liquor which assailed his nose.  His first impulse was to arise and escape by the window, but on reflection, as he saw by the light of their candle that the door between the two apartments was open, he deemed it safer to keep quiet for a little, with a hope that they might soon take their departure.  He felt anxious, besides, to ascertain whether the party in question consisted of those whom the strange guide had mentioned as being his enemies.  In the meantime, the following agreeable dialogue greeted his ears and banished for the moment every other thought and consideration.

“It was altogether a bad business this night.  He was as well set as man could be, but hell pursue the pistols, they both missed fire; and thim that did go off hit the wrong men.  The same two—­we can’t names boys, won’t be the betther of it for some time.  We met them, you see, in the mountains, where we wor goin’ on a little business.  Here’s that we may never ait worse mait than mutton!”

“More power, Dick—­Dick, (hiccup) you’re a trojan, an’ so was your father and mother afore you; here’s your to—­toast, Dick, that we may ever an’ always ait no worse mait than—­praties an’ point, hurra!—­that’s the chat, ha!—­ha!—­ha!—­ah, begad it’s we that’s the well-fed boys—­ay, but sure our friends the poor parsons has been always starvin’ in the counthry.”

“Always starvin’ the counthry!” exclaimed another, playing upon the word, “be my sowl you’re right there, Ned.  Well sure they’re gettin’ a touch of it now themselves; by japers, some o’ them knows what it is to have the back and belly brought together, or to go hungry to bed, as the sayin’ is; but go on, Dick, an’ tell us how it was.”

“Why, you see, we went back when we heard that the house was to be attacked, and only he escaped the way he did, it wouldn’t be attacked; howaniver, you know it’s wid O’Driscol—­a short cooser to him, too, and he’ll get it—­it’s wid O’Driscol he stops.  So off we went, and waited in Barney Broghan’s still-house, where we had a trifle to dhrink.”

“Divil resave the bet—­bettherer spirits ever came from—­a still—­il eye, nor dar-lent Bar—­ar—­ney Brogh—­aghan makes—­whisht!—­more power!—­won’t the counthry soon—­be our—­our—­own—­whips!”

“Ned, hould your tongue, an’ let him go ’an; well, Dick.”

“Afther waitin’ in the still-house till what we thought was the proper time, we went to O’Driscol’s, and first struv to get in quietly, but you see we had no friends in the camp, for the men-servants all sleep in the outhouses, barrin’ the butler; an’ he’s not the thing for Ireland.  Well and good, although among ourselves, it was anything but well and good this night; however, we demanded admittance, an’ jist as if they had been on the watch for us—­a windy was raised, and a voice called out to us to know what we wanted.

“‘Neither to hurt or harm any one in the house,’ we said, ‘or belongin’ to it; but there is a stranger in it that we must have out.’