Mr. Nickie seemed for a moment taken aback by this unexpected speech, and for a few seconds made no answer; his nature and his calling, however, soon supplied presence of mind, and with an air of almost insolent familiarity he answered,-- “Perhaps there may be, young lady.” He turned, and opening the door, gave a sharp whistle, which was immediately responded to by a cry of “Here we are, sir,” and the two followers already mentioned entered the cottage. “You may have heard of such a thing as an execution, ma'am,” said Nickie, addressing Lady Eleanor, in a voice of mock civility, “the attachment of property for debt. This is part of my business at the present moment.” “Do you mean here, sir--in this cottage?” asked Lady Eleanor, in an accent scarcely audible from terror. “Yes, ma'am, just so. The law allows fourteen days for redemption, with payment of costs, until which time these men here will remain on the premises; and although these gimcracks will scarcely pay my client's costs, we must only make the best of it.” “But this property is not ours, sir. This cottage belongs to a friend.” “I am aware of that, ma'am. And that friend is about to answer for his own sins on the present occasion, and not yours. These chattels are attached as the property of Bagenal Daly, Esquire, at the suit of Peter Hickman, formerly of Loughrea, surgeon and apothecary.” “Is Mr. Daly aware-does he know of these proceedings?” gasped Lady Eleanor, faintly. “In the multiplicity of similar affairs, ma'am, it is quite possible he may have let this one escape his memory; for if I don't mistake, he has two actions pending in the King's Bench, an answer in equity, three cases of common assault, and a contempt ol court,--all upon his hands for this present session, not to speak of what this may portend.” Here he took a newspaper from his pocket, and having doubled down a paragraph, handed it to Lady Eleanor. Overwhelmed by grief and astonishment, she made no motion to take the paper, and Mr. Nickie, turning to Helen, read aloud,-- '“There is a rumor prevalent in the capital this morning, to which we cannot, in the present uncertainty as to fact, make any more than a guarded allusion. It is indeed one of those strange reports which we can neither credit nor reject,--the only less probable thing than its truth being that any one could deliberately fabricate so foul a calumny. The story in its details we forbear to repeat; the important point, however, is to connect the name of a well-known and eccentric late M. P. for an Irish borough with the malicious burning of Newgate, and the subsequent escape of the robber Freney.