“I don't see any great hardship in this after all, ma'am,” said Nelligan; “for we know if the family were at home we couldn't even be here. Drive on, Tim.” A short circuit through a very thickly wooded tract brought them at length to a large and massive gateway, over which the Martins' arms were sculptured in stone; passing through which they entered a great courtyard, three sides of which were occupied by stables, the fourth presenting a range of coach-houses filled with carriages of every description. A large tent was erected in the midst of the court for the convenience of the sale, in front of which were pens for the cattle, and a space railed off, wherein the horses were to be viewed and examined. “This is all mighty well arranged,” said Bodkin, as he gave his horse to a groom, who, in the undress livery of Cro' Martin, came respectfully to his aid as he got down. “The sale will begin in about an hour, sir,” said the man, in answer to a question. “Mr. Scanlan is now in the house with Mr. Gibbs, the auctioneer.” Vast crowds of people of every class, from the small squire to the Oughterard shopkeeper and country farmer, now came pouring in, all eager in their curiosity, but somehow all subdued into a kind of reverence for a spot from which they had been so rigidly excluded, and the very aspect of which so far transcended expectations. Everything, indeed, was an object of wonderment. The ornamental tanks for watering the horses, supplied by beautifully designed fountains; the sculptured medallions along the walls, emblematizing the chase or the road; the bright mahogany partitions of the stalls, even to the little channels lined with shining copper, all demanded notice and comment; and many were the wise reflections uttered with regard to those who thus squandered away their wealth. The sight of the cattle, however, which occupied this luxurious abode, went far to disarm this criticism, since certainly none ever seemed more worthy of the state and splendor that surrounded them. For these the admiration was hearty and sincere, and the farmers went along the stalls amazed and wonderstruck at the size and symmetry of the noble animals that filled them. “To be sold at Tattersall's, sir, on the 4th of next month,” said a groom, whose English accent imparted an almost sneer to the supposition that such a stud should meet purchasers in Ireland. “They 're all advertised in 'Bell's Life.'” “What becomes of the hounds?” asked Bodkin. “Lord Cromore takes them, sir; they're to hunt in Dorsetshire.” “And the sow?” asked old Hayes, with eagerness; “she isn't to go to England, is she?” “Can't say, sir. We don't look arter no sows here,” replied the fellow, as he turned away in evident disgust at his questioner.