“By night or by day, the roads are not very safe at the present time,” replied his reverence. “The danger's principally by night, though,” observed the other. “This Finnerty is playing the devil, they say; and is hard to be nabbed by all accounts.” The observation was received by several hums, and hems, and has, and very significant ejaculations, whilst a fat, wealthy-looking fellow, who sat beside the peace-officer--for such he was--in attempting to warn him of Finnerty's presence, by pressing on his foot, unfortunately pressed upon that of the priest in mistake, who naturally interpreted the hems and has aforesaid to apply to the new-corner instead of himself. This cannot be matter of surprise, inasmuch as the priest had his ears so completely muffled up with the collar of his jock and a thick cotton kerchief, that he heard not the allusions which the robber had made outside the coach, when he mistook him for Finnerty. He consequently peered very keenly at the last speaker, who to tell the truth, had probably in his villanous features ten times more the character and visage of a highwayman and cutthroat than the redoubtable Finnerty himself. “It's a wonder,” said the priest, “that the unfortunate man has not been taken.” “Hum!” exclaimed the officer; “unfortunate man. My good fellow, that's very mild talk when speaking of a robber. Don't you know that all robbers deserve the gallows, eh?” “I know no such thing,” replied the priest. “Many a man has lived by robbing, in his day, that now lives by catching them; and many a poor fellow, as honest as e'er an individual in this coach--” “That's very shocking language,” observed a thin, prim, red-nosed lady, with a vinegar aspect, who sat erect, and apparently fearless, in the corner of the coach--“very shocking language, indeed. Why, my good man, should you form any such wile kimparison?” “Never mind, ma'am; never mind,” said the officer, whose name was Darby; “let him proceed; from what he is about to say, I sha'n't be surprised if he justifies robbery--not a bit--but will be a good deal, if he don't. Go on, my good fellow.” “Well,” proceeded the priest, “I was going to say, that many a poor wretch, as honest as e'er an individual, man or woman--” Here there was, on the part of the lady, an indignant toss of the head, and a glance of supreme scorn leveled at the poor priest; whilst Darby, like a man who had generously undertaken the management of the whole discussion, said, with an air of conscious ability, if not something more, “nevermind him, ma'am; give him tether.” “As honest,” persisted the priest, “as e'er an individual, man or woman, in this coach--and maybe, if the truth were known, a good deal honester than some of them.” “Good,” observed the officer; “I agree with you in that--right enough there.”