“Who is that?” said the squire; “come in--or, stay till I see who you are.” He than opened the door and exclaimed, “What! Lanigan!--why, you infernal old scoundrel! how dare you have the assurance to look me in the face, or to come under my roof at all, after what I said to you about the pistols?” “Ay, but you don't know the good news I have for you and Miss Helen.” “Oh, Lanigan, is Reilly safe?--is he set at large? Oh, I am sure he must be. Never was so noble, so pure, and so innocent a heart.” “Curse him, look at the eye of him,” said her father, pointing his cane at Lanigan; “it's like the eye of a sharp-shooter. What are you grinning at; you old scoundrel?” “Didn't you expect Sir Robert Whitecraft here to-day to marry Miss Folliard, sir?” “I did, sirra, and I do; he'll be here immediately.” “Devil a foot he'll come to-day, I can tell you; and that's the way he treats your daughter!” “What does this old idiot mean, Helen? Have you been drinking, sirra?” “Not yet, sir, but plaise the Lord I'll soon be at it.” “Lanigan,” said Helen, “will you state at once what you have to say?” “I will, miss; but first and foremost, I must show you how to dance the 'Little House under the Hill,'” and as he spoke he commenced whistling that celebrated air and dancing to it with considerable alacrity and vigor, making allowances for his age. The father and daughter looked at each other, and Helen, notwithstanding her broken spirits, could not avoid smiling. Lanigan continued the dance, kept wheeling about to all parts of the room, like an old madcap, cutting, capering, and knocking up his heels against his ham, with a vivacity that was a perfect mystery to his two spectators, as was his whole conduct. “Now, you drunken old scoundrel,” said his master, catching him by the collar and flourishing the cane over his head, “if you don't give a direct answer I will cane you within an inch of your life. What do you mean when you say that Sir Robert Whitecraft won't come here to-day?” “Becaise, sir, it isn't convanient to him.” “Why isn't it convenient, you scoundrel?” “Bekaise, sir, he took it into his head to try a change of air for the benefit of his health before he starts upon his journey; and as he got a very friendly invitation to spend some time in Sligo jail he accepted it, and if you go there you will find him before you. It seems he started this morning in great state, with two nice men belonging to the law in the carriage with him, to see that he should want for nothing, and a party of cavalry surroundin' his honor's coach, as if he was one of the judges, or the Lord Lieutenant.” The figurative style of his narrative would unquestionably have caused him to catch the weight of the cane aforesaid had not Helen interfered and saved him for the nonce. “Let me at him, Helen, let me at him--the drunken old rip; why does he dare to humbug us in this manner?”