He staggered over on his seat, his eyes gleaming in a fixed and intense glare at the attorney; his hands were clenched, his lips parched, and his mummy-like cheeks sucked, as before, into his toothless jaws. In addition to all this, there was a bitter white smile of despair upon his features, and his thin gray locks, that were discomposed in the paroxysm by his own hands, stood out in disorder upon his head. We question, indeed, whether mere imagination could, without having actually witnessed it in real life, conceive any object so frightfully illustrative of the terrible dominion which the passion of avarice is capable of exercising over the human heart. “I protest to Heaven,” exclaimed the attorney, alarmed, “I believe the man is dying--if not dead, he is motionless.” “O'Donovan, what's the matter with you?” The old man's lips gave a dry, hard smack, then became desperately compressed together, and his cheeks were drawn still further into his jaws. At length he sighed deeply, and changed his fixed and motionless attitude. “He is alive, at all events,” said one of his young men. Fardorougha turned his eyes upon the speaker, then upon his master, and successively upon two other assistants who were in the office. “What is this?” said he, “what is this?--I'm very weak--will you get me a dhrink o' wather? God help me--God direct me! I'm an unhappy man; get me a dhrink, for Heaven's sake! I can hardly spake, my mouth and lips are so dry.” The water having been procured, he drank it eagerly, and felt evidently relieved. “This business,” he continued, “about the money--I mane about my poor boy. Connor, how will it be managed, sir?” “I have already told you that there is but one way of managing it, and that is, as the young man's life is at stake, to spare no cost.” “And I must do that?” “You ought, at least, remember that he's an only son, and that if you lose him--” “Lose him!--I can't--I couldn't--I'd die--die--dead--” “And by so shameful a death,” proceeded Cassidy, “you will not only be childless, but you will have the bitter fact to reflect on that he died in disgrace. You will blush to name him! What father would not make any sacrifice to prevent his child from meeting such a fate? It's a trying thing and a pitiable calamity to see a father ashamed to name the child that he loves.” The old man arose, and, approaching Cassidy, said, eagerly, “How much will do? Ashamed to name you, alanna, Ghierna--Ghierna--ashamed to name you, Connor! Oh! if the world knew you, as thore, as well as I an' your poor mother knows you, they'd say that we ought to be proud to hear your name soundin' in our ears. How much will do? for, may God stringthen me, I'll do it.” “I think about forty guineas; it may be more, and it may be less, but we will say forty.” “Then I'll give you an ordher for it on a man that's a good mark. Give me pin an' paper, fast.”