The carriage was unpacked, and letter-boxes, parcels, and portmanteaus strewed the hall. Andy was desired to carry the latter to "the gentleman's room," and, throwing the portmanteau over his shoulder, he ran upstairs. It was just after the commotion created by the arrival of the _Honourable_ Mr. Scatterbrain that Furlong returned to the house, wet and weary. He retired to his room to change his clothes, and fancied he was now safe from further molestation, with an inward protestation that the next time the Master O'Gradys caught him in their company, they might bless themselves; when he heard a loud sound of hustling near his door, and Miss Augusta's voice audibly exclaiming, "Behave yourself, Ratty!--Gusty, let me go!"--when, as the words were uttered, the door of his room was shoved open, and Miss Augusta thrust in, and the door locked outside. Furlong had not half his clothes on. Augusta exclaimed, "Gracious me!"--first put up her hands to her eyes, and then turned her face to the door. Furlong hid himself in the bed-curtains, while Ratty, the vicious little rascal, with a malicious laugh, said, "Now, promise you'll not tell papa, or I'll bring him up here--and then, how will you be?" "Ratty, you wretch!" cried Augusta, kicking at the door, "let me out!" "Not a bit, till you promise." "Oh, fie, Maste' O'Gwady!" said Furlong. "I'll scream, Ratty, if you don't let me out!" cried Augusta. "If you screech, papa will hear you, and then he'll come up and kill that fellow there." "Oh, don't squeam, Miss O'Gwady!" said Furlong, very vivaciously, from the bed-curtains; "don't squeam, pway!" "I'm not squeamish, sir," said Miss Augusta; "but it's dreadful to be shut up with a man who has no clothes on him. Let me out, Ratty--let me out!" "Well, will you tell on us?" "No." "'Pon your honour?" "'Pon my honour, no! Make haste! Oh, if papa knew of this!" Scarcely had the words been uttered, when the heavy tramp and gruff voice of O'Grady resounded in the passage, and the boys scampered off in a fright, leaving the door locked. "Oh, what will become of me!" said the poor girl, with the extremity of terror in her look--a terror so excessive, that she was quite heedless of the dishabille of Furlong, who jumped from the curtains, when he heard O'Grady coming. "Don't be fwightened, Miss O'Gwady," said Furlong, half frightened to death himself. "When we explain the affair----" "Explain!" said the girl, gasping. "Oh, you don't know papa!" As she spoke, the heavy tramp ceased at the door--a sharp tap succeeded, and Furlong's name was called in the gruff voice of the Squire. Furlong could scarcely articulate a response. "Let me in," said O'Grady. "I am not dwessed, sir," answered Furlong. "No matter," said the Squire; "you're not a woman." Augusta wrung her hands. "I'll be down with you as soon as I am dwessed, sir," replied Furlong. "I want to speak to you immediately--and here are letters for you--open the door."