Before this weighty matter was determined, Fergus O’Driscol, although satisfied that Hourigan and their new laborer were acquainted, resolved to corroborate his evidence of the fact, if possible, and for this purpose he sent the fellow, as had been agreed on, to walk Purcel’s horse up and down the lower part of the avenue, near the entrance gate, which was somewhat secluded and not within view of the house, for the avenue was a winding one.  In the meantime he stationed himself in a clump of trees, to which he went by a back walk in the shrubbery that was concealed from that part of the avenue.  Here, we say, he stationed himself to watch these worthies, but, unfortunately, at too great a distance to hear their conversation, should they speak and recognize each other.  On this subject he was not permitted to remain long in suspense.  Hourigan soon made his appearance, and, on approaching the stringer, looked cautiously about him in every direction, whilst the latter, who had been walking Purcel’s horse towards the house, suddenly turned back, and kept conversing with Hourigan until they reached the entrance gate, where they stood for about ten minutes in close and evidently confidential dialogue, as was clear from their watching in all directions, to make certain that they were not observed.  They then shook hands, cordially, and Hourigan bent his steps towards the town of Lisnagola.  Fergus, who had seen all their motions most distinctly, took occasion to pass up the avenue a few minutes afterwards, where he met the stranger still leading Purcel’s horse.

“What’s your name, my good fellow?” he asked.

“Phil Hart, sir.”

“Do you know if the man who summoned Mr. Purcel before my father has gone out?”

“I don’t know, plaise your honor.”

“Did any person go out within the last few minutes?”

“Yes, sir, there went a man out; maybe it was him.”

“You don’t know Hourigan’s appearance, then?”

“No, sir.  Hourigan, was that his name?”

“Yes.  Are you a native of this county?”

“Not exactly, sir; but I have friends in it.”

“Who are they?”

“The Ahernes, sir, up in the mountains behind Lisnagola beyant.”

“And who recommended you to Mr. Arthur?”

“His brother-in-law, sir, one Frank Finnerty, in the mountains above; that is, they’re both marrid upon the two shisthers, plaise your honor.”

“And what caused you to leave your native place?”

“Why, sir, my father houlds a bit o’ land; he owed some tithe, sir, and—­”

“Would not pay it; they consequently took proceedings—­you resisted the execution of the law, and then you had to run for it.”

“Well, not exactly, sir.”

“How was it, then?”

“Why, sir, we paid the tithes; an’ whin this was discovered, I, at any rate, had to run for it.  The people, your honor, found out that it was I that ped them, an’ I was glad, of coorse, to fly for my life.  I’d thank you, sir, to keep what I tould you to yourself, for even if it was known in this neighborhood that I ped them, I wouldn’t be safe.”