Helen pleaded some cause for withdrawing, as she entertained an apprehension that he might introduce the topic which she most dreaded--that of her duty to give evidence against Reilly. When she was gone he began to ponder over several subjects connected with the principal characters of this narrative until he became drowsy, during which period halters, gibbets, gallowses, hangmen, and judges jumbled each other alternately through his fancy, until he fell fast asleep in his easy-chair. CHAPTER XXIII.--The Squire becomes Theological and a Proselytizer, but signally fails. The next morning he and Cummiskey started for Sligo, and, as usual, when they reached the jail the turnkey was about to conduct the squire to Sir Robert's room, when the former turned and said: “I wish to see Mr. Reilly; lead me to his cell.” “Reilly, sir!” exclaimed the man in astonishment. “Are you sure, sir, it's not Sir Robert Whitecraft you want?” “Are you sure, sir, that it's not a cut of my whip about the ears you want? Conduct me to where Reilly is, you rascal; do you pretend to know the individual I wish to see better than I do myself? Push along, sirra.” The turnkey accordingly conducted him to Reilly's cell, which, considerably to his surprise, was a much more comfortable one than had been assigned to the baronet. When they had reached the corridor in which it was situated, Folliard said, “Knock at the door, and when he appears tell him that I wish to see him.” “I will, your honor.” “Say I won't detain him long.” “I will, your honor.” “Hang your honor, go and do what I desire you.” “I will, your honor.” Reilly's astonishment was beyond belief on learning that his vindictive prosecutor had called upon him; but on more mature reflection, and comparing what had happened before with the only motive which he could assign for such a visit, he felt pretty certain that the squire came to revive, in his own person, a subject which he had before proposed to him through his daughter. There was no other earthly object to which he could attribute his visit; but of course he made up his mind to receive him with every courtesy. At length Folliard entered, and, before Reilly had time to utter a syllable, commenced: “Reilly,” said he, “you are astonished to see me here?” “I am, sir,” replied Reilly, “very much.” “Yes, I thought you would; and very few persons, except myself, would come upon such an errand to the man that has disgraced my daughter, myself, and my family; you have stained our name, sir--a name that was never associated with any thing but honor and purity until you came among us.”