“I do, plaise your reverence.” “And obey your parents?” “I hope so, sir.” “Indeed,” said his father, “poor Mick doesn't lave us much to complain of in that respect; he's a very good boy in general, your reverence.” “God bless you, my child,” said the priest, solemnly, placing his hand upon the boy's head, who was sitting, “and guide your feet in the paths of religion and virtue!” “Oh, sir,” exclaimed the poor affectionate lad, bursting into tears, “I wish you would come to my mother! she is very ill, and so is my sister.” “I will go, my child, in half-an-hour. I see you are a good youth, and full of affection; I will go almost immediately. Here, Mat Ruly,” he shouted, raising the parlor window, on seeing that neat boy pass;--“here, you colossus--you gigantic prototype of grace and beauty;--I say, go and saddle Freney the Robber immediately; I must attend a sick call without delay. What do you stare and gape for? shut that fathomless cleft in your face, and be off. Now, Nogher,” he said, once more addressing the man, “slip down to-morrow with the stamp; or, stay, why should these fellows be there two hours, and the house and the family as they are? Sit down here for a few minutes, I'll go home with you; we can get the stamp in Ballytrain, on our way,--ay, and draw up the bill there too;--indeed we can and we will too; so not a syllable against it. You know I must have my will, and that I'm a raging lion when opposed.” “God bless your reverence,” replied the man, moved almost to tears by his goodness; “many an act of the kind your poor and struggling parishioners has to thank you for.” On looking into the kitchen, for the parlor door was open, he espied the stranger, whom he approached with every mark of the most profound respect, but still with perfect ease and independence. After the first salutations were over-- “Well, sir,” said the priest, “do you hold to your purpose of going to Dublin?” “I go this night,” replied the other; “and, except through the old man to whom you are so kind as to give me the letter, I must confess I have but slight expectations of success. Unless we secure this unfortunate young man, that is, always supposing that he is alive, and are able clearly and without question to identify his person, all we may do must be in vain, and the baronet is firm in both title and estates.” “That is evident,” replied the priest. “Could you find the heir alive, and identify his person, of course your battle is won. Well; if there be anything like a thread to guide you through the difficulties of this labyrinth, I have placed it in your hands.” “I am sensible of your good wishes, sir, and I thank you very much for the interest you have so kindly taken in the matter. By the way, I engaged a servant to accompany me--one Dulcimer, Dandy Dulcimer; pray, what kind of moral character does he bear?” “Dandy Dulcimer!” exclaimed the priest; “why, the thief of the world! is it possible you have engaged him?”