Though Martin couldn’t guess, as he walked quickly down the street, what Barry Lynch could want with young Daly, who was beginning to be known as a clever, though not over-scrupulous practitioner, he felt a presentiment that it must have some reference to Anty and himself, and this made him rather uncomfortable. Could Barry have heard of his engagement? Had Anty repented of her bargain, during his short absence? Had that old reptile Moylan, played him false, and spoilt his game? “That must be it,” said Martin to himself, “and it’s odd but I’ll be even with the schamer, yet; only she’s so asy frightened!—Av’ she’d the laist pluck in life, it’s little I’d care for Moylan or Barry either.” This little soliloquy brought him to the inn door. Some of the tribe of loungers who were always hanging about the door, and whom in her hatred of idleness the widow would one day rout from the place, and, in her charity, feed the next, had seen Martin coming down the street, and had given intelligence in the kitchen. As he walked in, therefore, at the open door, Meg and Jane were ready to receive him in the passage. Their looks were big with some important news. Martin soon saw that they had something to tell. “Well, girls,” he said, as he chucked his bag and coat to Sally, “for heaven’s sake get me something to ate, for I’m starved. What’s the news at Dunmore?” “It’s you should have the news thin,” said one, “and you just from Dublin.” “There’s lots of news there, then; I’ll tell you when I’ve got my dinner. How’s the ould lady?” and he stepped on, as if to pass by them, upstairs. “Stop a moment, Martin,” said Meg; “don’t be in a hurry; there’s some one there.” “Who’s there? is it a stranger?” “Why, then, it is, and it isn’t,” said Jane. “But you don’t ask afther the young lady!” said her sister. “May I be hanged thin, av’ I know what the two of ye are afther! Is there people in both the rooms? Come, girls, av’ ye’ve anything to tell, why don’t you out wid it and have done? I suppose I can go into the bed-room, at any rate?” “Aisy, Martin, and I’ll tell you. Anty’s in the parlour.” “In the parlour upstairs?” said he; “the deuce she is! And what brought her here? Did she quarrel with Barry, Meg?” added he, in a whisper. “Indeed she did, out and out,” said Meg. “Oh, he used her horrible!” said Jane. “He’ll hear all about that by and by,” said Meg. “Come up and see her now, Martin.” “But does mother know she’s here?” “Why, it was she brought her here! She fetched her down from the house, yesterday, before we was up.”