“I know you well. I meek it a point to know everyone who is worth knowing. In the meantime, M'Carthy, you'll come along with me, if you pleese.” “It is not at all clear that I will,” replied M'Carthy; “you are a perfect stranger to me--at least your disguise makes you so. You are out on illegal business, as is evident from that disguise, and you are armed with a case of pistols. Now, under these circumstances, happen what may, until I know more about you, and who you are, I will not walk one inch in your society, except as a free agent.” “Hear me,” replied the other; “you were singled out for murdher this night, and you only escaped by a miracle--by the assistance of a man who is a warm friend to you, and who got information of the danger you wor in from another friend who suspected that you were in that danger. Two pistols wor loaded to settle you, as they say. Well, the person that saved your life damped the powder in these pistols--both wor snapped at you, and they didn't go off--am I right?” “You are right for so far, certainly.” “Well, then, the other two who followed you--one of them with a long, sharp dagger--were shot down--d--n your friend that didn't send the bullets through their brains instead of their hams and limbs; however, they fell and you escaped--am I right?” “Perfectly correct,” replied M'Carthy; “and you must have had your information only from the person who befriended me.” “Well, then, have you-any objection to come with me now?” “Every objection; I wish to go either to Mr. O'Driscol's or Mr. Purcel's.” “Listen. I say if you attempt this night to go to either one house or the other, you will never carry your life to them. If I was your enemy, and wished to put a bullet into you, what is there to prevent me now, I ask you?” “All, my good friend,” replied M'Carthy, “that argument won't pass with me. Many. a man there is--and I dare say you know it well--who feels a strong scruple against committing murder with his own hands, who, notwithstanding, will not scruple to employ others to commit it for him.” “Do you refuse to come with me, then? because if you do to-morrow mornin' will rise upon your corpse. Even I couldn't save you if you were known. There's a desperate and a dreadful game goin' to be played soon, and as you stand in the way of a man that possesses great power, and has a perticular end in view--the consequence is that you are doomed. Even if you do come with me, I must blacken your face, in ordher to prevint you from being known.” “Will you answer me one question candidly,” said M'Carthy--“if it's a fair one? Did I see you to-night before?” “Ask me no question,” replied the man; “for I won't answer any I don't like, and that happens to be one o' them. Whether you saw me this night before, or whether you didn't, there is no occasion for me to say so, and I won't say it.” “I think I know him now,” said M'Carthy; “and if I judge correctly, he is anything but a safe guide.”