“Thank you, friend,” replied Sir Robert; “there is a lonely place before us, where a ghost is said to be seen--the ghost of a priest whom I hunted for a long time; Smellpriest, it is said, shot him at the place I allude to. He was disguised as a drummer, and is said to haunt the locality where he was shot.” “Well, I shall see you safe over the place, Sir Robert, and go home with you afterwards, provided you will promise to give me a bed and my supper; to-morrow we can talk on matters of business.” “I shall certainly do so,” replied Sir Robert, “not only in consequence of your attention to me, but of our common purpose.” They then proceeded onwards--passed the haunted spot--without either hearing or seeing the spectral drummer. On arriving at home, Sir Robert, who drank privately, ordered wine for himself, and sent Rowland Drum to the kitchen, where he was rather meagerly entertained, and was afterwards lodged for the night in the garret. The next morning, after breakfast, Sir Robert sent for Mr. Drum, who, on entering the breakfast parlor, was thus addressed by his new patron: “What's this you say your name is?” “Rowland Drum, sir.” “Rowland Drum! Well, now, Rowland Drum, are you well acquainted with the priests of this diocese?” “No man better,” replied the redoubtable Rowland. “I know most of them by person, and have got private descriptions of them all from Captain Smellpriest, which will be invaluable to you, Sir Robert. The fact is--and this I mention in the strictest confidence--that Smellpriest is suspicious of your attachment to our glorious Constitution.” “The confounded rascal,” replied the baronet. “Did he ever burn as many Popish houses as I have done? He has no appetite for any thing but the pursuit and capture of priests; but I have a far more general and unsparing practice, for I not only capture the priests, where I can, but every lay Papist that we suspect in the country. Here, for instance. Do you see those papers? They are blank warrants for the apprehension of the guilty and suspected, and also protections, transmitted to me from the Secretary of State, that I may be enabled, by his authority, to protect such Papists as will give useful information to the Government. Here they are, signed by the Secretary, but the blanks are left for myself to fill up.” “I wish we could get Reilly to come over,” said Mr. Drum. “Oh! the infernal villain,” said the baronet, “all the protections that ever were or could be issued from the Secretary's office would not nor could not save him. Old Folliard and I will hang him, if there was not another man to be hanged in the three kingdoms.” At this moment a servant came in and said, “Sir Robert, there is a woman her who wishes to have some private conversation with you.” “What kind of a woman is she?” asked the baronet. “Faith, your honor, a sturdy and strapping wench, somewhat rough, in the face, but of great proportions.”