“Here is Donnel Dhu,” replied Booth, “waitin’ for law business.”

“Go to the windy, Donnel,” said Jemmy, with an authoritative air; “go to your ground; but before you do—­let me know what you want.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” replied the Prophet; “unless to say, that it’s a matter of life an’ death.”

“Go out,” repeated Jemmy, with brief and determined authority, “an wait till it’s his honor’s convanience, his full convanience, to see you.  As dark a rogue, sir,” he continued, having shoved the Prophet outside, and slapped the door in his face; “and as great a schamer as ever put a coat on his back.  He’s as big a liar too, when he likes, as ever broke bread; but there’s far more danger in him when he tells the truth, for then you may be sure he has some devil’s design in view.”

Dick-o’-the-Grange, though vulgar and eccentric, was by no means deficient in shrewdness and common sense—­neither was he, deliberately, an unjust man; but, like too many in the world, he generally suffered his prejudices and his interests to take the same side.  Having had his leg dressed, and been prepared by Jemmy for the business of the day, he took his place, as usual, in the chair of justice, had the window thrown open, and desired the Prophet to state the nature of his business.

The latter told him that the communication must be a private one, as it involved a matter of deep importance, being no less than an affair of life and death.

This startled the magistrate, who, with a kind of awkward embarrassment, ordered, or rather requested Jemmy to withdraw, intimating that he would be sent for, if his advice or opinion should be deemed necessary.

“No matther,” replied Jemmy; “the loss will be your own; for sure I know the nice hand you make of law when you’re left to yourself.  Only before I go, mark my words;—­there you stand, Donnel Dhu, an’ I’m tellin’ him to be on his guard against you—­don’t put trust, plaise your honor, in either his word or his oath—­an’ if he’s bringin’ a charge against any one, give it in favor of his enemy, whoever he is.  I hard that he was wanst tried for robbery, an’ I only wondher it wasn’t for murdher, too; for in troth and sowl, if ever a man has both one and the other in his face, he has.  It’s known to me that he’s seen now and then colloguin’ an’ skulkin’ behind the hedges, about dusk, wid red Rody Duncan, that was in twiste for robbery.  Troth it’s birds of a feather wid them—­and I wouldn’t be surprised if we were to see them both swing from the same rope yet.  So there’s my carrecther of you, you villain,” he added, addressing M’Gowan, at whom he felt deeply indignant, in consequence of his not admitting him to the secret of the communication he was about to make.

Henderson, when left alone with the Prophet, heard the disclosures which the latter made to him, with less surprise than interest.  He himself remembered the circumstances perfectly well, and knew that on the occasion of Condy Dalton’s former arrest, appearances had been very strong against him.  It was then expected that he would have disclosed the particular spot in which the body had been concealed, but as he strenuously persisted in denying any knowledge of it, and, as the body consequently could not be produced, they were obliged of necessity to discharge him, but still under strong suspicions of his guilt.