should be immediately sent for. The servant went instantly; but it seemed to me an immoderately long time before Christy arrived. I walked up and down the room impatiently, and at last threw myself at full length upon the sofa: the servant returned. “The smith is below in the hall, my lord.” “Show him up.”--He was shown up into the ante-chamber. “The smith is at the door, my lord.” “Show him in, cannot you? What detains him?” “My brogues, my lord! I’d be afraid to come in with ‘em on the carpet.” Saying this, Christy came in, stepping fearfully, astonished to find himself in a splendid drawing-room. “Were you never in this room before, Christy?” said I. “Never, my lord, plase your honour, barring the day I mended the bolt.” “It is a fine room, is not it, Christy?” “Troth, it is the finest ever I see, sure enough.” “How should you like to have such a room of your own, Christy?” “Is it I, plase your honour?” replied he, laughing; “what should I do with the like?” “How should you feel if you were master of this great castle?” “It’s a poor figure I should make, to be sure,” said he, turning his head over his shoulder towards the door, and resting upon the lock: “I’d rather be at the forge by a great _dale_.” “Are you sure of that, Christy? Should not you like to be able to live without working any more, and to have horses and servants of your own?” “What would I do with them, plase your honour, I that have never been used to them? sure they’d all laugh at me, and I’d not be the better o’ that, no more than of having nothing to do; I that have been always used to the work, what should I do all the day without it? But sure, my lord,” continued he, changing his voice to a more serious tone, “the horse that I shod yesterday for your honour did not go lame, did he?” “The horse is very well shod, I believe; I have not ridden him since: I know nothing of the matter.” “Because I was thinking, may be, it was that made your honour send for me up in the hurry--I was afeard I’d find your honour mad with me; and I’d be very sorry to disoblige you, my lord; and I’m glad to see your honour looking so well after all the trouble you’ve been put to by them _rubbles_, the villains, to be _consarting_ against you under-ground. But, thanks be to God, you have ‘em all in gaol now. I thought my mother would have died of the fright she took, when the report came that Ody was one of them. I told her there could not be no truth in it at all, but she would not mind me: it would be a strange unnatural thing, indeed, of any belonging to her to be plotting against your honour. I knew Ody could not be in it, and be a brother of mine; and that’s what I kept saying all the time but she never heeded me: for, your honour knows, when the women are frighted, and have taken a thing into their heads, you can’t asy get it out again.” “Very true: but to return to what I was saying, should not you like to change places with me, if you could?”