We need not attempt to describe the sensations of love and indignation produced by this letter. But we shall state the facts. “Here, Tom,” said Reilly, “is the reward for your fidelity,” as he handed him some silver; “and mark me, Tom, don't breathe to a human being that you have brought me a letter from the _Cooleen Bawn_. Go into the house and get something to eat; there now--go and get one of your bully dinners.” “It is true,” said he, “too true I am doomed-devoted. If I remain in this country I am lost. Yes, my life, my love, my more than life--I feel as you do, that our fates, whether for good or evil, are inseparable. Yes, I shall see you this night if I have life.” He had scarcely concluded this soliloquy when his namesake, Fergus Reiliy, disguised in such a way as prevented him from being recognized, approached him, in the lowly garb of a baccah or mendicant. “Well, my good fellow,” said he, “what do you want? Go up to the house and you will get food.” “Keep quiet,” replied the other, disclosing himself, “keep quiet; get all your money into one purse, settle your affairs as quickly as you can, and fly the country this night, or otherwise sit down and make your will and your peace with God Almighty, for if you are found here by to-morrow night you sleep in Sligo jail. Throw me a few halfpence, making as it were charity. Whitecraft has spies among your own laborers, and you know the danger I run in comin' to you by daylight. Indeed, I could not do it without this disguise. To-morrow night you are to be taken upon a warrant from Sir Robert Whitecraft; but never mind; as to Whitecraft, leave him to me--I have a crow to pluck with him.” “How is that, Fergus?” “My sister, man; did you not hear of it?” “No, Fergus, nor I don't wish to hear of it, for your sake; spare your feelings, my poor fellow; I know perfectly well what a hypocritical scoundrel he is.” “Well,” replied Fergus, “it was only yesterday I heard of it myself; and are we to bear this?--we that have hands and eyes and limbs and hearts and courage to stand nobly upon the gallows-tree for striking down the villain who does whatever he likes, and then threatens us with the laws of the land if we murmur? Do you think this is to be borne?” “Take not vengeance into your own hand, Fergus,” replied Reilly, “for that is contrary to the laws of God and man. As for me, I agree with you that I cannot remain in this country. I know the vast influence which Whitecraft possesses with the government. Against such a man I have no chance; this, taken in connection with my education abroad, is quite sufficient to make me a marked and suspected man. I will therefore leave the country, and ere to-morrow night, I trust, I shall be beyond his reach. But, Fergus, listen: leave Whitecraft to God; do not stain your soul with human blood; keep a pure heart, and whatever may happen be able to look up to the Almighty with a clear conscience.”