“Well, sir,” interposed the little priest of Curraghglass, who, not altogether to the Counsellor's satisfaction, had now slipped an arm inside of his, “I hope the evil admits of remedy; Mr. O'Halloran intends to address a few words to the people before he leaves the town.” Whether it was the blank look that suddenly O'Reilly's features assumed, or the sly malice that twinkled in Heffernan's gray eyes, or that his own feelings suggested the course, but the Counsellor hastily whispered a few words in the priest's ear, the only audible portion of which was the conclusion: “Be that as it may, I 'll not do it.” “I 'm ready now, Mr. O'Reilly,” said he, turning abruptly round. “My father has gone over to say good-bye to the judges,” said Beecham; “but I'll drive you back to the abbey,--the carriage is now at the door.” With a few more words in a whisper to the priest, O'Halloran moved on with young O'Reilly towards the door. “Only think, sir,” said Father John, dropping behind with Heffernan, from whose apparent intimacy with O'Halloran he augured a similarity of politics, “it is the first time the Counsellor was ever in our town, the people have been waiting since two o'clock to hear him on the 'veto,'--sorra one of them knows what the same 'veto' is,--but it will be a cruel disappointment to see him leave the place without so much as saying a word.” “Do you think a short address from _me_ would do instead?” said Heffernan, slyly; “I know pretty well what's doing up in Dublin.” “Nothing could be better, sir,” said Father John, in ecstasy; “if the Counsellor would just introduce you in a few words, and say that, from great fatigue, or a sore throat, or anything that way, he deputed his friend Mr.--” “Heffernan's my name.” “His friend Mr. Heffernan to state his views about the 'veto,'--mind, it must be the 'veto,'-you can touch on the reform in Parliament, the oppression of the penal laws, but the 'veto' will bring a cheer that will beat them all.” “You had better hint the thing to the Counsellor,” said Heffernan; “I am ready whenever you want me.” As the priest stepped forward to make the communication to O'Halloran, that gentleman, leaning on Beecham O'Reilly's arm, had just reached the steps of the courthouse, where now a considerable police-force was stationed,--a measure possibly suggested by O'Reilly himself. The crowd, on catching sight of the Counsellor, cheered vociferously; and, although they were not without fears that he intended to depart without speaking, many averred that he would address them from the carriage. Before Father John could make known his request, a young man, dressed in a riding-costume, burst through the line of police, and, springing up the steps, seized O'Halloran by the collar.