“Suspinse?” he said--“suspinse? What do you mean? You talk as though you’d lost your sivin sinsis! Sure an didn’t you hear it yerself, ivery word? Sure an worn’t ye in the room yourself, listhening? Didn’t ye hear it all?” “Hear it all? Hear what?” cried Bart. “About what?” “Why, about the lepers, sure. Sorra a thought I’ve had iver since, except about that same. And I went off, so I did; for I didn’t dare to slape in that leper house, wid a man that lives among the lepers and shakes hands wid them.” “The lepers!” cried Bart in impatience, but with a feeling of inexpressible relief--the relief which is felt at a respite, however brief, from sorrow. “The lepers! Why, I was talking about Phil. Have you heard anything about Phil?” “Phil?” said Pat. “Arrah, sure he’s all right. I ony wish I wor in his shoes. It ud be a happy boy I’d be if I cud change places wid Phil. Och, wurroo--but it’s a bitther day whin I came to this place.” “You haven’t heard anything at all about Phil, then?” said Bart. “Niver a word,” said Pat. “I’ve heard too much about other things.” Bart turned away. As for Pat, he wandered disconsolately to the fence by the road side, and leaning against it, he stood there in a woe-begone attitude,--the very picture of despair. Bart now resumed his melancholy walk; but before he had taken many paces, he heard the rapid gallop of a horse, and in turning, he saw a rider approaching the house, who, on drawing nearer, turned out to be the priest. Bart now saw that he had done his kind host a great injustice in supposing that he had been oversleeping himself, and felt a natural sorrow at his suspicions. As the priest dismounted, the very first words which he addressed to Bart made the compunction of the latter over his unjust suspicions still stronger, since they showed that, so far from sleeping while Bart was wakeful, in his anxiety over Phil, he had left Bart in bed, and had been traversing the country for miles, in order to institute a general search after the lost boy. “I took a few hours’ sleep,” said he, “and rose between one and two. I’ve been up the road for twelve or fifteen miles, and have persuaded a number of people to make a search of the woods as far as they are able to. They are all full of the deepest anxiety about the poor lad, and you may rest assured that the good people will do all in their power for him. My people are not very intellectual, nor are they what you call progressive; but they are affectionate, simple-hearted, and brave; and there is not one of them that I have spoken to who will have any peace until that poor lad’s fate is decided. So when we go off to search after him, you may console yourself with the thought that our party is but one out of several that are engaged in the same search.” At this disclosure of the real business of the priest, Bart was so overcome with mingled emotions, that he could scarcely say a word. He could only murmur some confused expressions of gratitude.