"Oh then, Father John, he's satisfied to say men become Protestants when they are no longer fit to be Catholics; was that the way yourself become a Protestant, Captain Ussher?" "If I'm to be d----d for that, you know, it's my father's and mother's fault. I ain't like Keegan. I didn't choose the bad road myself." "Oh, but isn't it for yourself to choose the good road? didn't you say you knew ours was the ould church as it stood always down from Christ? If you do go wrong, you don't do it from ignorance, but you do it wilfully, and your sowl will howl in hell for it." Captain Ussher only burst out laughing at this little outbreak, but Father John exclaimed, "Whist! whist! Cullen, none of that here: if you can take any steps towards sending Captain Ussher to heaven, well and good; but don't be sending him the other way while the poor fellow is over his punch." "Never mind, Father John; I and Father Cullen are very good friends, and I think he'll hear me read my recantation yet; but he can't do it to-night, as here's my mare. I must go by Ballycloran, Thady; will you walk as far as the avenue with me?" "Thank you, Captain Ussher, I'll not be going out of this just yet." "Ah, well; I see you're out with me for the tiff we had this morning. He's angry now, Father John, just through my telling him he couldn't count all the money he'd received this week." Father John observed the different manners of the young men towards each other, and from Thady's silence, was quite sure that matters had gone amiss between them. "I didn't know it before then, Captain Ussher," said Thady; "but if you must know, I've business to spake to Father John about." "Oh, well; open confession's good for the soul; I hope he'll absolve you for your bad temper." "It's I am to get the absolution, if I can, this time; it's the old story. Captain, 'a thrifle of rint that's owing, nothing more.'" "Well, it's all one to me: good night to you all," and Captain Ussher rode away home to Mohill. Father Cullen reseated himself by the fire, and again assumed his gaze at the hot turf, just as he was before Ussher came in, and looked hopelessly immovable. Thady shifted about uneasily in his chair, then got up and walked round the room, and then sat down again; but the curate wouldn't move. At last Father John ended the affair by saying, "Any more punch, Cullen?" "Thank you, no, Sir." "Then just go home, there's a good fellow." Cullen rose up, not the least offended--nothing would offend him--took his hat, and did as he was bid. At last Thady and Father John were left alone. "Now, my boy," said the priest, as he put on more turf, "we'll be alone for half an hour, or it is odd. Well, you spoke to Feemy?"