Curly carelessly, or, as he would say himself, "promiscuously," wandered across the ample kitchen, and, stumbling heavily, slipped, as if by the merest accident, through a door close beside him, and, closing it after him, found himself alone with Major Hewitt, late of the 2d Brigade of Republican Artillery. That gentleman was standing with his back to a good fire, in a small apartment, lighted by a single candle, which stood on a rude mantelpiece. He exhibited some slight symptoms of impatience at Curly's entrance, and, like the desperado-gentlemen of the hut, enquired peevishly what had delayed him. "I'm proud to see you, Capting," said Cahill evasively; "the job is near finished at last, I hope?" "Yes, to-morrow night, I think. We go off after twelve, provided you don't fail in having the horses ready." "Don't fear me in that. Well, 'twill be great sport intirely--the ould man's tatteration when he finds his colleen gone." And Curly was obliged to bend himself double with laughter. "You'll find Ned Burke at the gap in the avenue-wall with two as good coults as there is in the barony. But, Capting, when it's all right, an' you settled in life, you'll not forget the friend that stood by you an' helped you to the fortun'?" "For the sake of his own revenge at being cast in a law-suit about ten shillings' worth of potato-tithe? Certainly not, most upright Curly." "An' where'll you take the brideen--Miss Katey--the darlin'?" said Cahill with a jocose wink. "Curse you, villain! you'll drive me to give you a token on that head of yours you'll remember until--you see me again, at all events," cried Hewitt passionately. "Thank God, I'm 'most done with you. Have you brought the money?" "Sorrow a sixpence, jewel. I had the arrears an' costs to pay this mornin', a'n I'm run dhry teetotally; that's the thruth." "Then all my plan's gone for nothing!" said Hewitt. "In the fiend's name, what brought you _here_, then?" "Jest a thrifle o' business up the road," answered Curly, "an' a great wish intirely for _you_, Capting." "And _she_ prepared and all!" continued Hewitt abstractedly. "I thought I was done with it for ever.... Go back, I implore you, Cahill, and raise me fifty pounds in any way. I am perfectly penniless." "I couldn't raise you fifty farthens--I could _not_, 'pon my word and honour to you, Capting." "Then I give up the business," replied Hewitt. "An' the fair-haired girleen, an' her goold, an' what's betther, I know, to you, her goodwill; an' the land, an' the laugh at Lysaght"----and Cahill ran on rising towards his climax. "I can't stand this; d--n you," cried his hearer. "Since you won't aid me, I must try the old treasury once more." "An' you're the boy to have your dhrafts honoured, never fear, Capting." "Will you escort me to the bank?" asked Hewitt with a savage sneer.