It was all the same to Mr Armstrong, and the two therefore started for Tuam together.  They had not, however, got above half way down the avenue, when they saw another gig coming towards them; and, after sundry speculations as to whom it might contain, Mr Armstrong pronounced the driver to be “that dirty gallipot, Colligan.”

It was Colligan; and, as the two gigs met in the narrow road, the dirty gallipot took off his hat, and was very sorry to trouble Lord Ballindine, but had a few words to say to him on very important and pressing business.

Lord Ballindine touched his hat, and intimated that he was ready to listen, but gave no signs of getting out of his gig.

“My lord,” said Colligan, “it’s particularly important, and if you could, as a magistrate, spare me five minutes.”

“Oh, certainly, Mr Colligan,” said Frank; “that is, I’m rather hurried—­I may say very much hurried just at present.  But still—­I suppose there’s no objection to Mr Armstrong hearing what you have to say?”

“Why, my lord,” said Colligan, “I don’t know.  Your lordship can judge yourself afterwards; but I’d rather—­”

“Oh, I’ll get down,” said the parson.  “I’ll just take a walk among the trees:  I suppose the doctor won’t be long?”

“If you wouldn’t mind getting into my buggy, and letting me into his lordship’s gig, you could be following us on, Mr Armstrong,” suggested Colligan.

This suggestion was complied with.  The parson and the doctor changed places; and the latter, awkwardly enough, but with perfect truth, whispered his tale into Lord Ballindine’s ear.

At first, Frank had been annoyed at the interruption; but, as he learned the cause of it, he gave his full attention to the matter, and only interrupted the narrator by exclamations of horror and disgust.

When Doctor Colligan had finished, Lord Ballindine insisted on repeating the whole affair to Mr Armstrong.  “I could not take upon myself,” said he, “to advise you what to do; much less to tell you what you should do.  There is only one thing clear; you cannot let things rest as they are.  Armstrong is a man of the world, and will know what to do; you cannot object to talking the matter over with him.”

Colligan consented:  and Armstrong, having been summoned, drove the doctor’s buggy up alongside of Lord Ballindine’s gig.

“Armstrong,” said Frank, “I have just heard the most horrid story that ever came to my ears.  That wretch, Barry Lynch, has tried to induce Doctor Colligan to poison his sister!”

“What!” shouted Armstrong; “to poison his sister?”

“Gently, Mr Armstrong; pray don’t speak so loud, or it’ll be all through the country in no time.”

“Poison his sister!” repeated Armstrong.  “Oh, it’ll hang him!  There’s no doubt it’ll hang him!  Of course you’ll take the doctor’s information?”

“But the doctor hasn’t tendered me any information,” said Frank, stopping his horse, so that Armstrong was able to get close up to his elbow.