“_Badershin!_” says he, with a wink of one of his quare eyes, “_Tig-gum tigue Tiggeeine!_ * It won’t do, boys, I’m not in the recruitin’ line, so ye needn’t be afeerd of me. But, as ye have been on the tramp, in the coorse of yer rambles did ye happen to hear anything about Sir Richard Macnamara?” Be the powers of pewter! the question made its start. * These terms being rendered into common English, mean-- “Be quiet--you can’t humbug me.” “No, Sir,” says I; “but if you had inquired after ould Sir Thomas, I could have given ye a better answer.” “What Sir Thomas?” says he. “Why, what other, but Sir Thomas of Killcrogher?” “Divil a such a man lives there,” says he. “_Nabochish!_” says I; “maybe I wasn’t bred and born under him?” “That may be true,” says he; “it’s Sir Riehard I want to see. I wouldn’t give a _traneeine_ to be in company with Sir Thomas.” “Ah! then,” says I, “what wouldn’t I give to be cheek-be-jowl with the ould gentleman.” “Divil have the liars!” says the wee fellow in return; “for if ye had y’er wish, ye would have a ton weight of lime and mortar on the top of ye.” “Christ stan’ between us and evil!” says I, crossin’ myself. “You don’t mane that he’s dead?” “Faith an’ if he’s not,” says the wee black fellow, “they have takin’ a great liberty with him, for they buried him in Killeroglier on Tuesday week--and I have been tatterin’ over half England in search of his son. Be the Lord!” says he, “ye might as well grip hould of a Banshee. * For all the tidings I could get of him was, that a ruffin, called _Shemus Rhua_, ran off with a tailor’s wife; and he, the villin, persuaded the good-natured young gentleman to follow him.” * The Banshee is a spirit attached to old Irish families, who foretells deaths and other calamities by melancholy wailings before they occur. He is never seen. Well, who should the little man be but a lawyer sent in pursuit of Dick; and, without delay, we set off for home; and, when we got there, said as little about England as we could. It was supposed that Sir Richard might have cleared Killeroglier if he had taken the right way; but he set up a pack of fox-hounds, and married a dashin’ lady because that she could ride to them to fortune. A few years settled the busnis--and what Sir Thomas had begun Sir Riehard cliverly complated. The dogs were sent adrift, the horses canted by the sheriff, my lady boulted with a light dragoon, and, to finish all, one wet mornin’, poor Dick was brought home upon a door, dead as a herrin’. There’s not one stone standin’ on the other at Killerogher; and of one of the ouldest and the best estates within the province, there’s not a sod of it now in possession of a man of the name of Maenamara. CHAPTER XIX. MY GRANDFATHER. “ Cor. Sir, do you know me? Still, still far wide! Phy. He’s scarce awake--Let him alone awhile--