He accordingly preceded Purcel to his office, accompanied by Sam Finigan, a kind of thorough male domestic who acted as his clerk. Here he took his seat with a good deal of ceremony, hemmed several times, and desired Hourigan to be admitted. Just at that moment, and while Hourigan was coming in, a young lad, or tiger, a son of Finigan's, by the way, who had been in the habit of carrying letters to and from the neighboring post-office, now entered and presented him with one, to the following effect:-- “TO O'DRISKAL, THE SHONEEN MAGISTRIDGE. “Sur this is to let you no that if you go an givin wan la for the poor and anud'her for the rich you will soon get a bullet through you as Tandrem af Tavnibeg got. If you wish to bay safe thin bay the poor man's friend--oderways it'll be worse for you. “Kaptn Jostige.” O'Driscol having read this communication, became desperately disturbed for about a couple of minutes, after which, as if struck by some sudden thought, he appeared to recover himself considerably, but by no means fully, as was evident from the agitation of his voice and the involuntary tremor of his hands. “I hope, sir,” said Purcel, who could not help observing the commotion into which the notice had put him, “that you have received no ill tidings. You seem agitated and alarmed, or rather distressed, if one can judge; I hope there's nothing wrong.” “Why, no,” replied the magistrate, “not exactly wrong; but it is certainly an infamous country to live in. I am an impartial man, Mr. Purcel--I mane, sir, an impartial magistrate; but the fact is, sir, that every man is marked whose life is valuable to the government of his country. I know no man, Mr. Purcel--mark me you, too, Hourigan--I know no man, sir, in my capacity of a magistrate--hem--hem!--only according to the merits--I am as much the poor man's friend as I am the rich man's, and of the two more: if I lane at all, which I don't, it is to the poor man; but as an impartial man--magistrate I mane--I know naither rich or poor. On the bench, I say, I know naither poverty nor riches, barring, as I said, upon the merits.” “Beggin' your pardon, your worship--an' before you begin--as I was comin' down here a while agone,” said Hourigan, “I seen a strange and suspicious-lookin' man inside the hedge at the shrubbery below; he was an ill-faced villain, plaise your reverence, an' I thought I seen his pockets stickin' out as if he had pistols in them. I thought it better to tell your worship.” The worthy magistrate had scarcely recovered from the first fit of agitation when this intelligence threw him into an immediate relapse. Indeed so ludicrous was his distress that he actually wiped the perspiration from his forehead.