“‘How?’ replied Mick; ’I believe that they’re holy men—­but I know they can’t save me widout the Redeemer and His blessed mother,’

“’By the light above us, you’re shuffling, Mick—­I say you do believe in them—­now, don’t tell me to the contrary—­I say you’re shuffling as fast as possible.’

“‘I tould you truth, sir,’ replied Mick; ’and if you don’t believe me, I can’t help it.’

“’Don’t trust in the priests, Mick; that’s the main point to secure your salvation.’

“Mick, who knew his prejudices against the priests, smiled faintly, and replied—­

“‘Why, sir, I trust in them as bein’ able to make inthercession wid God for me, that’s all’

“’They make intercession!  By the stool I’m sitting on, a single word from one of them would ruin you.  They, a set of ribles, to make interest for you in heaven!  Didn’t they rise the rebellion in Ireland?—­answer me that.’

“‘This is a subject, sir, we would never agree on,’ replied Mick.

“‘Have you the Ten Commandments?’ inquired Vesey.

“‘I doubt my mimory’s not clear enough to have them in my mind,’ said the lad, feeling keenly the imputation of ignorance, which he apprehended from Vesey’s blunt observations.

“Vesey, however, had penetration enough to perceive his feelings, and, with more delicacy than could be expected from him, immediately moved the question.

“‘No matter, Mick,’ said he, ’if you would give up the priests, we would get over that point:  as it is, I will give you a lift in the Commandments; and, as I said a while ago,’ if you take my advice, I’ll work up a creed for you that you may depend upon.  But now, for the Commandments—­let me see.

“’First:  Thou shalt have no other gods but me.  Don’t you see, man how that peppers the priests?’

“‘Second:  Remember that thou keep holy the Sabbath-day.’

“’Third:  That shalt not make to thyself—­no, hang it no!—­I’m out—­that’s the Second—­very right.  Third:  Honor thy father and thy mother—­you understand that, Mick?  It means that you are bound to—­to—­just so—­to honor your father and your mother, poor woman.’

“‘My father—­God be good to him!—­is dead near fourteen years, sir,’ replied Mick.

“’Well, in that case, Mick, you see all that’s left for you is to honor your mother—­although I’m not certain of that either; the Commandments make no allowance at all for death, and in that case why, living or dead, the surest way is to respect and obey them—­that is, if the thing were’nt impossible.  I wish we had blind George M’Girr here, Mick; although he’s as great a rogue as ever escaped hemp, yet he’d beat the devil himself at a knotty point.’

“‘His breath would be bad about a dying man,’ observed Mick.

“‘Ay, or a living one,’ said Vesey; ’however, let us get on—­we were at the Third.  Fourth:  Thou shalt do no murder.’

“At the word murder, Mick started, and gave a deep groan, whilst his eyes and features assumed a gaunt and hollow expression, resembling that of a man struck with an immediate sense of horror and affright.