“The piece of pasteboard was complacently handed from one to the other of the party, who saluted my father with a smile of most courteous benignity. “‘Colonel O’Shaughnessy,’ said one. “‘Miles O’Shaughnessy,’ said the other. “‘Of Killinahoula Castle,’ said the third. “‘At your service,’ said my father, bowing, as he presented his snuff-box; ‘and now to business, if you please, for my time also is limited.’ “‘Very true,’ observed he of the rabbit-skin; ‘and, as you observe, now to business; in virtue of which, Colonel Miles O’Shaughnessy, I hereby arrest you in the King’s name. Here is the writ; it’s at the suit of Barnaby Kelly, of Loughrea, for the sum of £1,482 19s. 7-1/2d., which--’ “Before he could conclude the sentence, my father discharged one obligation by implanting his closed knuckles in his face. The blow, well aimed and well intentioned, sent the little fellow summersetting like a sugar hogshead. But, alas! it was of no use; the others, strong and able-bodied, fell both upon him, and after a desperate struggle succeeded in getting him down. To tie his hands, and convey him to the chaise, was the work of a few moments; and as my father drove by the inn, the last object which caught his view was a bloody encounter between his own people and the myrmidons of the law, who, in great numbers, had laid siege to the house during his capture. Thus was my father taken; and thus, in reward for yielding to a virtuous weakness in his character, was he consigned to the ignominious durance of a prison. Was I not right, then, in saying that such is the melancholy position of our country, the most beautiful traits in our character are converted into the elements of our ruin?” “I dinna think ye ha’e made out your case, Major?” said the Scotch doctor, who felt sorely puzzled at my friend’s logic. “If your faether had na gi’en the bond--” “There is no saying what he wouldn’t have done to the bailiffs,” interrupted Dennis, who was following up a very different train of reasoning. “I fear me, Doctor,” observed Quill, “you are much behind us in Scotland. Not but that some of your chieftains are respectable men, and wouldn’t get on badly even in Galway.” “I thank ye muckle for the compliment,” said the doctor, dryly; “but I ha’e my doubts they’d think it ane, and they’re crusty carls that’s no’ ower safe to meddle wi’.” “I’d as soon propose a hand of ‘spoiled five’ to the Pope of Rome, as a joke to one of them,” returned Maurice. “May be ye are na wrang there, Maister Quell.” “Well,” cried Hampden, “if I may be allowed an opinion, I can safely aver I know no quarters like Scotland. Edinburgh beyond anything or anywhere I was ever placed in.” “Always after Dublin,” interposed Maurice; while a general chorus of voices re-echoed the sentiment.