“Though I missed the story,” replied the stranger, “I was happy enough to hear your friend’s critique upon the dog.”

Father Ned seemed embarrassed; the curate, on the contrary, exclaimed with triumph—­“but wasn’t I right, sir?”

“Perfectly,” said the stranger; “the moral you applied was excellent.”

“Good-night, boys,” said Father Ned—­“good-night, Mr. Longinus Polysyllabus Alexandrinus!”

“Good-night, boys,” said Father Peter, imitating Father Ned, whom he looked upon as a perfect model of courtesy—­“Good-night, boys—­good night, Mr. Longinus Polysyllabus Alexandrinus.”

“Good-night,” replied the stranger—­“good-night, Doctor Edward Deleery; and good-night, Doctor Peter M’Clatchaghan—­good-night.”

When the clergymen were gone, the circle about the fire, excepting the members of Ned’s family and the stranger, dispersed to their respective homes; and thus ended the amusement of that evening.

After they had separated, Ned, whose curiosity respecting the stranger was by no means satisfied, began to sift him in his own peculiar manner, as they both sat at the fire.

“Well, sir,” said Ned, “barring the long play-acther that tumbles upon the big stage in the street of our market-town, here below, I haven’t seen so long a man this many a day; and, barring your big whiskers, the sorra one of your honor’s unlike him.  A fine portly vagabone he is, indeed—­a big man, and a bigger rogue, they say, for he pays nobody.”

“Have you got such a company in your neighborhood?” inquired the stranger, with indifference.

“We have, sir,” said Ned, “but, plase goodness, they’ll soon be lashed like hounds from the place—­the town boys are preparing to give them a chivey some fine morning out of the country.”

“Indeed!—­he—­hem! that will be very spirited of the town boys,” said the stranger dryly.

“That’s a smart looking horse your honor rides,” observed Ned; “did he carry you far to-day, with submission?”

“Not far,” replied his companion—­“only fourteen miles; but, I suppose, the fact is, you wish to know who and what I am, where I came from and whither I am going.  Well, you shall know this.  In the first place, I am agent to Lord Non Resident’s estate, if you ever heard of that nobleman, and am on my way from Castle Ruin, the seat of his Lordship’s Incumbrances, to Dublin.  My name you have already heard.  Are you now satisfied?”

“Parfitly, your honor,” replied Ned, “and I am much obliged to you, sir.”

“I trust you are an honest man,” said the stranger, “because for this night I am about to place great confidence in you.”

“Well, sir,” said his landlord, “if I turn out dishonest to you, it’s more nor I did in my whole life to any body else, barring to Nancy.”

“Here, then,” said the stranger, drawing out a large packet, inclosed in a roll of black leather—­“here is the half year’s rent of the estate, together with my own property:  keep it secure till morning, when I shall demand it, and, of course, it will be safe?”