“Listen to that,” replied the woman; “do you think, now, he's not asleep? and even if he was sitting at the fire beside us, devil a syllable we said he could understand. I spoke to him in English when he came in, but he didn't know a word I said.” “Well, then, let the ould fellow sleep away; I won't touch him.” “Why, now, that's a good boy; go home to your barracks, and take a good sleep yourself.” “Ay, yes, certainly; but have you Reilly's clothes safe--shoes, silver buckles, and all?” “Ay, as safe as the head on your shoulders; and, upon my soul, a great dale safer, if you rob any more sheriffs.” “Where are they, then?” “Why, they're in my flat box, behind the bed, where nobody could see them.” “Very well, Molly, that will do; I may want them wanst more,” he replied, pointing again with his thumb over his shoulder towards Whitecraft's residence; “so goodnight; be a good girl, and take care of yourself.” “No,” she replied, “but do you be a good boy, and take care of yourself.” And so they parted for the night. The next day Fergus, possessed of very important evidence against the Rapparee, was travelling along the public road, not more than half a mile from the residence of Sir Robert Whitecraft, when whom should he meet but the identical sheriff, on horseback, that the Rapparee had robbed. He put his hand to his hat, and asked him for charity. “Help a poor ould man, for the love and honor of God.” “Why don't you go to work--why don't you go to work?” replied the sheriff. “I am not able, sir,” returned Fergus; “it wouldn't be good for my health, your honor.” “Well, pass on and don't trouble me; I have nothing for you.” “Ah! thin, sir, if you'd give me a trifle, maybe I'd make it worth your while.” “What do you mean?” asked the sheriff, who knew that persons like him had opportunities of hearing and knowing more about local circumstances, in consequence of their vagrant life, than any other class of persons in society. “What do you mean by what you have just said?” “Aren't you the sheriff, sir, that was robbed some time ago?” “I am.” “Ah, sir, I see you are dressed in black; and I heard of the death of the misthress, sir.” “Well, but what has that to do with what you have just now said--that you would make it worth my while if I gave you alms?” “I said so, sir; and I can, if you will be guided by me.” “Speak out; I don't understand you.” “Would you like to see the man that robbed you, sir, and would you know him if you did see him?” “Unquestionably I would know him. They say it was Reilly, but I have seen Reilly since; and although the dress was the same which Reilly usually wears, yet the faces were different.” “Is your honor going far?” asked Fergus. “No, I am going over to that farm-house, Tom Brady's; two or three of his family are ill of fever, and I wish to do something for him; I am about to make him my land bailiff.” “What stay will you make there, your honor?”