At length, however, order was restored, and another speaker addressed the House. All had assumed its wonted propriety, when a messenger delivered into Daly's hands a small sealed note; he glanced at the contents and rose immediately. Lord Castlereagh's quick eye caught the motion, and he at once called on the Speaker to interfere. “I have myself seen a letter conveyed to the honorable member's hands,” said he; “it requires no peculiar gift of divination to guess the object.” “I will satisfy the noble lord at once,” said Daly; “there is the letter I have received: I pledge my word of honor the subject is purely a private one, having no reference whatever to anything that has passed here.” He held out the letter as he spoke, but Lord Castlereagh declined to peruse it, and expressed his regret at having made the remark. Daly bowed courteously to him, and left the House. “Well, Sandy,” said he, as soon as he reached the corridor, where his faithful follower stood waiting his coming, “what success?” “No sae bad,” said Sandy. “I 've got a wherry, ane of them Wicklow craft; she's only half-decked, but she's a stout-looking sea-boat, and broad in the beam.” “And the wind, how's that?” “As it should be,--west, or west wi' a point north.” “Is there enough of it?” “Enough! I trow there is,” said Sanders, with a grin; “if there be no a blast too much. Hear till it now.” And, as if waiting for the remark, a tremendous gust of wind shook the strong building, while the clanking sound of falling slates and chimney-pots resounded through the street. “There's music for ye,” said Sandy; “there came a clap like that when I had a'maist made the bargain, and the carles would no budge without ten guineas mair. I promised them fifty, and the handsel whatever your honor liked after.” “It's all right,--quite right,” said Daly, wishing to stop details he never listened to with patience. “It's a' right, I know weel enough,” said Sandy, querulously; “but it wad no be a' right av ye went yersel'; they 'd have a gude penny, forbye what I say.” “And what say the fellows of this wind,--is it like to last?” “It will blow hard from the west for three or four days mair, and then draw round to the north.” “But we shall get to Liverpool before noon to-morrow.” “Maybe,” said Sandy, with a low, dry laugh. “Well, I mean if we do get there. You told them I 'd double the pay if we catch the American ship in the Mersey. I'd triple it; let them know that.” “They canna do mair than they can do: ten pounds is as good as ten hundred.” While this conversation was going forward, they had walked on together, and were now at the entrance door of the House, where a group of four persons stood under the shadow of the portico. “Mr. Daly, I presume,” said one, advancing, and touching his hat in salutation. “We have waited somewhat impatiently for your coming.” “I should regret it, sir, if I was aware you did me the honor to expect me.”