With intelligence thus superior to his humble lot, did this _desert_ "Hampden" (for "_village_" would not suit with his desolate dwelling) discourse with us till we were mounted. Frederick made him promise to come to Glenalta, where he told him that a present of books awaited his arrival: and we promised to visit him again on our return from Killarney. With affectionate and mutual adieus, we parted, and left the wide blank of a deathlike solitude and silence, to contrast with the merry din of our voices and the cheerful shew of life which had been produced by the group of men, dogs, and horses, on the gloomy heath. I shall never forget Ned of the Hill while I live, and though his _brogue_ is the _ne plus ultra_ of possible discord to a musical ear, I would rather listen to him than to _almost_ any _West-Endian_ of my acquaintance. Bentley is _beside himself_ with admiration of Ned, and I believe would like nothing better than a cave next door to our mountain sage, where some future bookmaker, travelling this way, might set down the neighbours as a settlement of the Troglodites, who, by some wonderful chance, had been cast on shore upon the coast of Kerry. I am not yet sure how to classify Bentley. He is very worthy of a place in my Irish Pantheon, but I have not a niche ready for him, and as I hardly think that I shall be able to unravel his character without help, I will ask Mr. Otway about him, some day or other, if I cannot satisfy myself respecting certain incongruities which I perceive in his manner. As we neared Glenalta, Frederick observed several traces of carriage wheels on the road, and, on examining them more nearly, prophecied that we should find company on reaching home. "Not at this hour, surely," said Bentley. "Mr. Otway would not drive to Glenalta when he is able to ride or walk thither; and my uncle being an absentee at present, _who_ is there that could venture to pay a visit at five o'clock with any hope of being at their more distant homes in reasonable time for dinner?" "Depend upon it," answered Frederick, "that whoever came to Glenalta this day, is there still. Like Cacus' den, it exhibits no returning footsteps. All the marks of the horses' feet are in the same direction." See what it is to live in this out of the way sort of place!