“Could you weigh a stone or a half stone of praties, if they were called for? But, never mind--you'd be apt to give down weight--I'll come out and do it myself, if they're wanted;” saying which, he drew the red curtain aside, in order the better, as it would seem, to keep a watchful eye upon the other. The latter was at first offended, but ultimately began to feel amused by the offensive peculiarities of the old man. He now perceived that he was eccentric and capricious, and that, in order to lure any information out of him, it would be necessary to watch and take advantage of the disagreeable whimsicalities which marked his character. Patience, he saw clearly, was his only remedy. After remaining in the back parlor for about eight or ten minutes, he put out his thin, sharp face, with a grin upon it, which was intended for a smile--the expression of which, however, was exceedingly disagreeable. “We will talk this matter over,” he said, “by and by. I have compared the hand-write in this letther wid a certificate of Father M'Mahon's, that I have for many years in my possession. Step inside in the meantime; the ould woman will be back in a few minutes, and when she comes we'll go upstairs and speak about it.” The stranger complied with this invitation, and felt highly gratified that matters seemed about to take a more favorable turn. “I trust,” said he, “you are satisfied that I am fully entitled to any confidence you may feel disposed to place in me?” “The priest speaks well of you,” replied Dunphy; “but then, sure I know him; he's so kind-hearted a creature, that any one who speaks him fair, or that he happens to take a fancy to, will be sure to get his good word. It isn't much assistance I can give you, and it's not on account of his letther altogether that I do it; but bekaise I think the time's come, or rather soon will be come. Oh, here,” he said, “is the ould woman, and she'll keep the shop. Now, sir, come upstairs, if you plaise, for what we're goin' to talk about is what the very stones oughtn't to hear so long as that man--” He paused, and instantly checked himself, as if he felt that he had already gone too far. “Now, sir,” he proceeded, “what is it you expect from me? Name it at wanst.” “You are aware,” said the stranger, “that the son of the late Sir Edward Gourlay, and the heir of his property, disappeared very mysteriously and suspiciously--” “And so did the son of the present man,” replied Dunphy, eying the stranger keenly. “It is not of him I am speaking,” replied the other; “although at the same time I must say, that if I could find a trace even of him I would leave no stone unturned to recover him.” The old man looked into the floor, and mused for some time. “It was a strange business,” he observed, “that both should go--you may take my word, there has been mischief and revenge, or both, at the bottom of the same business.”