’His proper home, they say, is in the Queen’s County, where he has a band, but he is a strange fellow, fond of wandering about by himself amidst the bogs and mountains, and living in the old castles; occasionally he quarters himself in the peasants’ houses, who let him do just what he pleases; he is free of his money, and often does them good turns, and can be good-humoured enough, so they don’t dislike him.  Then he is what they call a fairy man, a person in league with fairies and spirits, and able to work much harm by supernatural means, on which account they hold him in great awe; he is, moreover, a mighty strong and tall fellow.  Bagg has seen him.’

‘Has he?’

’Yes! and felt him; he too is a strange one.  A few days ago he was told that Grant had been seen hovering about an old castle some two miles off in the bog; so one afternoon what does he do but, without saying a word to me—­for which, by the bye, I ought to put him under arrest, though what I should do without Bagg I have no idea whatever—­what does he do but walk off to the castle, intending, as I suppose, to pay a visit to Jerry.  He had some difficulty in getting there on account of the turf-holes in the bog, which he was not accustomed to; however, thither at last he got and went in.  It was a strange lonesome place, he says, and he did not much like the look of it; however, in he went, and searched about from the bottom to the top and down again, but could find no one; he shouted and hallooed, but nobody answered, save the rooks and choughs, which started up in great numbers.  “I have lost my trouble,” said Bagg, and left the castle.  It was now late in the afternoon, near sunset, when about half-way over the bog he met a man—­’

‘And that man was—­’

’Jerry Grant! there’s no doubt of it.  Bagg says it was the most sudden thing in the world.  He was moving along, making the best of his way, thinking of nothing at all save a public-house at Swanton Morley, which he intends to take when he gets home, and the regiment is disbanded—­though I hope that will not be for some time yet:  he had just leaped a turf-hole, and was moving on, when, at the distance of about six yards before him, he saw a fellow coming straight towards him.  Bagg says that he stopped short, as suddenly as if he had heard the word halt, when marching at double quick time.  It was quite a surprise, he says, and he can’t imagine how the fellow was so close upon him before he was aware.  He was an immense tall fellow—­Bagg thinks at least two inches taller than himself—­very well dressed in a blue coat and buff breeches, for all the world like a squire when going out hunting.  Bagg, however, saw at once that he had a roguish air, and he was on his guard in a moment.  “Good-evening to ye, sodger,” says the fellow, stepping close up to Bagg, and staring him in the face.  “Good-evening to you, sir!  I hope you are well,” says Bagg.  “You are looking after some one?” says