‘As you plase, Sir,’ replied the attorney; ‘you’re tumblin’ yourself and your friend into a nice predicament—­as good a consthructive ousther, vi et armis, as my client could possibly desire.  Av coorse, Sir, we’ll seek compensation in the regular way for this violent threspass; and we have you criminally, you’ll obsarve, no less than civilly.’

‘Now, look—­onderstand me—­don’t affect to misteek, av you plase,’ said the priest, not very clear or comfortable, for he had before had one or two brushes with the law, and the recollection was disagreeable:  ’I—­Mr. Moran—­we’re here, Sir—­the both iv us, as you see—­pacibly—­and—­and—­all to that—­and at the request of Mrs. Sally Nutther—­mind that, too—­at her special desire—­an’ I tell you what’s more—­if you make any row here—­do you mind—­I’ll come down with the magisthrate an’ the soldiers, an’ lave it to them to dale with you accordin’—­mind ye—­to law an’ equity, civil, human, criminal, an’ divine—­an’ make money o’ that, ye—­ye—­mountain in labour—­savin’ your presence, Ma’am.’

‘I thank you—­that’ll do, Sir,’ said the lawyer, with a lazy chuckle.

’I’ll now do myself the honour to make my compliments to Mrs. Sally Nutther,’ said Father Roach, making a solemn bow to Mrs. Matchwell, who, with a shrill sneer, pursued him as he disappeared with—­

‘The lady in the bed-room, your reverence?’

Whereat Dirty Davy renewed his wheezy chuckle.

Nothing daunted, the indignant divine stumped resolutely up stairs, and found poor Sally Nutter, to whose room he was joyfully admitted by honest Betty, who knew his soft honest brogue in a panic, the violence of which had almost superseded her grief.  So he consoled and fortified the poor lady as well as he could, and when she urged him to remain in the house all night.

‘My dear Ma’am,’ says he, lifting his hand and shaking his head, with closed eyes, ’you forget my ca_rac_ter.  Why, the house is full iv faymales.  My darlin’ Mrs. Nutther, I—­I couldn’t enthertain sich an idaya; and, besides,’ said he, with sudden energy, recollecting that the goose might be overdone, ’there’s a religious duty, my dear Ma’am—­the holy sacrament waitin’—­a pair to be married; but Pat Moran will keep them quiet till mornin,’ and I’ll be down myself to see you then.  So my sarvice to you, Mrs. Nutther, and God bless you, my dear Ma’am.’

And with this valediction the priest departed, and from the road he looked back at the familiar outline of the Mills, and its thick clumps of chimneys, and two twinkling lights, and thought of the horrible and sudden change that had passed over the place and the inmates, and how a dreadful curse had scathed them:  making it, till lately the scene of comfort and tranquillity, to become the hold of every foul spirit, and the cage of every unclean and hateful bird.

Doctor Toole arrived at ten o’clock next morning, with news that shook the village.  The inquest was postponed to the evening, to secure the attendance of some witnesses, who could throw a light, it was thought, on the enquiry.  Then Doctor Toole was examined, and identified the body at first, confidently.