“There,” he said, “your honour is wrong! You know that Mr. Z---- has been condemned by the League, and yet you drive out in the dusk with a grey horse as like Mr. Z----’s as two drops of water. It isn’t reasonable. A poor fellow can easily make a mistake!” And on the next morning Mr. X---- received by post a letter signed “Captain Moonlight,” confirming in every respect his servant’s explanation. The Captain much regretted his agent’s mistake, and congratulated himself on the fortunate want of skill which had prevented an “accident,” which he could never have forgiven himself, ending his letter by advising his correspondent in a friendly way to get rid of his grey horse or to leave it in the stables for some time. The first duty of a really patriotic traveller is to point out to the merchants of his own country every good thing that may present itself to him. I therefore notify Parisian horse-dealers that for the last fortnight grey horses were sold for next to nothing in this country. But this is a digression, which I hope will be pardoned on account of the sentiment which inspired it. I said then that these explanations appeared to me to diminish the value of Mr. X----’s claim to the title of “severely boycotted;” in my opinion those of Mr. Z---- are superior. But since he hastened to Italy, where he wished to visit some of the museums, and his return still appears to be indefinitely postponed, I am forced to renounce the idea of studying the beauties of boycottage at his house. At last I discovered the object of my search. Mr. Thompson is one of the principal agents in County Cork; he is unquestionably boycotted, and if only one half of what is reported in the newspapers about him is true, he is quite as “severely” so as any one could wish; for during the last eighteen months it has been necessary to place a garrison of seventy-five men in his house. It has but just been withdrawn, and will probably be replaced. Mr. Thompson, with whom I had been put in communication, immediately and with the greatest kindness wrote to invite me to stay with him, only he begged me not to arrive before Monday. I had therefore three days to spend at Ballinacourty. I was, however, only too pleased with the delay, which allowed me to enjoy Colonel M----’s charming hospitality a little longer, and to see a little of that country life, which differs so much in England from anything of the same kind in France, and which--must I own it?--is so much more agreeable.