“Why,” continued the ratcatcher, “were you married, like myself, you couldn’t be much more miserable. Arrah! what the plague has come over ye, man? Can’t ye take things asy like me? Hav’n’t I left an affectionate wife behind?--and ye see I bear it like a Christian. I was once in love myself, and, as the sergeant’s song goes, found nothing for it but whisky. So, there’s a bridge, and here’s the cruiskeeine; we’ll sit down upon the wall for a while, take a drop to kill grief, and just inquire afterwards, where the devil we are going to.” As he spoke, the worthy captain unclosed his goat-skin knapsack--produced a flask and capacious drinking-cup, supplied the latter sparingly from the stream, completing it amply from the cruiskeeine--and after swallowing the larger moiety himself, he transferred “love’s panacea” to his desponding comrade. “That’s the thing,” exclaimed Shemus Rhua, as the fosterer emptied the horn; “and now, Mr. O’Toole, will you tell me where I’m bound for?” “Upon my soul,” returned the fosterer, “I don’t know where I’m going to myself--nor do I care.” “There’s two of us so,” observed the captain. “I think I’ll head towards England,” said the fosterer. “Well,” returned the captain, “I’ll go there too.” “Push on to London afterwards, and try an Irishman’s luck.5, “Right,” exclaimed the ratcatcher; “and I’ll stick to you like a bur.” “But what could you do there, copteeine?’ “Ask me rather what could I not do! Are there any brats, rats, pointers, or old women to be found?” “Enough of all, no doubt, Master Shemus.” “Then leave Shemus Rhua alone to make out life.” “‘Well, captain, if you will venture, we’ll share the purse while it holds a shilling--and when the last is gone--why, it’s only mounting the cockade.” “For a gentleman like me,” returned the ratcatcher with a smile, “who had the honour to hold a commission, it would be beneath him to enlist; but, _mona-sin-dhoul!_ wherever you go, Mark, I’ll follow like your shadow.” “Come along,” said the fosterer, “night is falling, and the road, they say, is unsafe after dark. They robbed the mail last week.” “They’ll not rob us,” returned the ratcatcher. “‘Where hard blows and light purses are only to be got, people who understand their business, never trouble themselves with such customers.” “Well, Shemus, you know best; for you’re foully belied, if there was a handier gentleman out in ninety-eight.” “I never robbed, if robbing you can call it,” returned the captain, “but twice; and if every thing I did besides sate as light upon my conscience, the devil a knee I need crook to Father McShane.” “And who _did_ you rob?” inquired the ratcatcher’s companion. “A miser, and the king-God bless his majesty! I should have spared him-for he’s a daeent ould gentleman, or my head would have been on a spike at Castlebar!” * “Well, Shemus, let us hear both exploits.”