In short, in the furor of the old woman’s garrulity, (who, however, discovered that her own information had not been acquired by the most justifiable means, having, she said, by chance, overheard a conversation which passed between the stranger and the Prince,) I found that this mysterious visitant was some unfortunate gentleman who had attached himself to the rebellious faction of the day, and who being pursued nearly to the gates of the castle of Inismore, had thrown himself on the mercy of the Prince; who, with that romantic sense of honour which distinguishes his chivalrous character, had not violated the trust thus forced on him, but granted an asylum to the unfortunate refugee; who, by the most prepossessing manners and eminent endowments, had dazzled the fancy and won the hearts of this unsuspecting and credulous family; while over the minds of Glorvina and her father he had obtained a boundless influence. The nurse hinted that she believed it was still unsafe for the stranger to appear in this country for that he was more cautious of concealing himself in his last visit than his first; that she believed he lived in England; that he seemed to have money enough, “_for he threw it about like a prince_.” Not a servant in the castle, she added, but knew well enough how it was; but there was not one but would sooner _die_ than betray him. His name she did not know; he was only known by the appellation of the gentleman. He was not young, but tall and very handsome. He could not speak Irish, and she had reason to think he had lived chiefly in America. She added, that _I_ often reminded her of him, especially when I smiled and looked down. She was not certain whether he was expected that summer or not; but she believed the Prince frequently received letters from him. The old woman was by no means aware how deeply she had been betrayed by her insatiate passion for hearing herself speak; while the curious and expressive idiom of her native tongue gave me more insight into the whole business than the most laboured phrase or minute detail could have done. By the time, however, she had finished her narrative, she began to have some “compunctious visitings of conscience.” she made me pass my honour I would not betray her to her young lady; for, she added, that if it got air it might come to the ears of Lord M-------- who was the prince’s bitter enemy; and that it might be the ruin of the Prince; with a thousand other wild surmises suggested by her fears. I again repeated my assurances of secrecy; and the sound of her young lady’s bell summoning her to the Prince’s room, she left me, not forgetting to take with her the “_Breviare du Sentiment_.”