“Where is the use of that?” said his father, to whom such communications had lost all their novelty and much of their interest; “however, you may do so; perhaps some accidental clue may be found that would lead us to discover the villain who wrote it.” Mogue was accordingly called in. “How did this letter come into your hands, Mogue?” asked the proctor. “It didn't come into them, sir,” replied Mogue, with a smile which he intended to pass, for one of simplicity; “it was lyin' I got it, upon the hall-door steps.” “Did you see any strange person about the place, or near the hall-door to-day?” he asked. “None, sir, sorra a creature--well now, wait--that I may never sup sorrow, but I did--there was a poor woman, sir, wid a whack of a son along wid her.” “Did you see her near the steps?” “That I may be happy, sir, if I could take it upon me to say--not wishin' to tell a lie--but she might a' been there, the crathur.” “What kind of a looking woman was she?” asked John. “A poor woman, sir, as I said.” “I do not mean that; of course, I know she was; but what dress had she on, and what kind of features or complexion had she? Was she big or little?” “I'm just thinkin',” replied Mogue, seemingly attempting to recollect something, “was it to-day or yesterday I seen her.” “Well, but answer directly,” said Alick, “what was she like?” “The son of her was a bullet-headed _ownsha_,” replied Mogue, “and herself--well now, that I may never die in sin, if I could say rightly. I was fetehin' some oats to Gimlet Eye, an' didn't take any particular notice. The _ownsha_ had black sooty hair, cut short, an' walked as if his feet were sore--and indeed it strikes me that he had kibes--for these poor people isn't overly clane, an' don't wash their feet goin' to bed at night, barrin' at Christmas or Easther, the crathurs. But, sure the Lord look down on them, they have enough to do to live at all!” “You couldn't say what direction she came from?” “Well, then, no.” “Nor the direction she went by?” “Well, no sir, I could not.” “But are you certain it was to-day, and not yesterday, you saw her?” “Then that's what's puzzlin' me--eh! let me see--ay--it was to-day--an' I'll tell you how I know it. Bekaise it was to-day I brought the oats to Gimlet Eye--you know he was harrowing the black park yestherday and was in care of Paudeen Sthuccaun. But sure, sir, maybe somebody else about the place seen them.” An investigation was consequently held upon this reasonable suggestion, but we need scarcely assure our readers, without effect; the aforesaid “poor woman” having had existence only in the fertile imagination of stainless and uncorrupted saint Mogue. The latter had scarcely retired, when a gentle knock came to the door, and Alick, on opening it himself, found their friend and neighbor, Darby Hourigan, standing outside. “Well, Hourigan, what do you want now? have you repented, and come to the resolution of paying your tithes?”