Mr. Carlton obeyed the call but the case assumed an alarming aspect, and after a few days he suggested that another doctor should meet him in consultation, and mentioned Mr. John Grey. The farmer, Mr. Thrupp, went to the Greys' residence, to request Mr. John's attendance early on the following morning. Mr. John was out, but Mr. Stephen was in; and the farmer, knowing nothing of the prejudice against the latter, arranged that he should go instead of his brother. Mr. Carlton was considerably surprised to meet him; he said nothing in his presence, but he remained to say it after Mr. Stephen had departed. This was on the morning of the day when Lady Laura made her call upon her sister. Mr. Carlton was now on his way to the farm, unconscious that Frederick Grey, bearing down upon him, had just left it.

In point of fact, Frederick had been sent up by his father to inquire the result of certain remedies ordered at the consultation. On his arrival the farmer came out to speak with him.

You are perhaps a relation of the Mr. Greys', sir?" said he, after replying to the inquiries of Frederick.

"I am Mr. Stephen Grey's son. Why?" Mr. Thrupp, a simple-looking man, scratched his head.

"Then perhaps you'll be good enough to say, sir, that we'd rather the gentleman didn't come again," he resumed, bringing the words out with hesitation, for he did not much like to speak them. "It has so flustered my wife to hear that he sometimes sends out poison by mistake in his physic bottles, that his visit has done her more harm than good. She is a trifle better, and she thinks Dr. Carlton can get her round now by himself. If you'll be just good enough to say so, sir, to Mr. Stephen Grey, with our thanks for his visit of this morning.”

The indignant red dyed Frederick Grey's features. "Who in the world told you that calumny of my father?" he asked.

"No offence, sir," returned the farmer, civilly; "I'm sure I don't intend any personality, for we know nothing but what we hear. After the gentleman had left, the other one, Dr. Carlton, asked how we could think of calling him into the house; he said it might have cost us our lives sometime, for he was not particular as to the making up of his medicines, and one lady had died through it. The other brother, Mr. John, was quite a reliable gentleman, he said, and it was him he had told me to call in. I asked my next door neighbour whether it was true, and he said it was true that a lady did die after taking some physic sent by him. It gave my wife such a

turn, sir, that we feared she was going-and perhaps you'll please tell him, not meaning any offence, that we'd rather he didn't come again."

Frederick Grey quitted the farmer, his blood rising up against the injustice done his father, the malice (as he regarded it) of Mr. Carlton. It was on returning from this very unsatisfactory interview, and when Master Frederick was in this very unsatisfactory temper, that the two unhappily came in contact, meeting exactly opposite the gate of Lady Jane Chesney.

Lady Jane might be called a third party at the meeting. She had taken a turn on the path after the departure of Laura, and on nearing the gate again heard footsteps in the road, and looked out to see Mr. Carlton close to her on the one side and Stephen Grey's son on the other. Not caring to be so much as seen by the surgeon, she stepped aside behind the hedge until he should have passed.

Mr.

But they were not to pass so soon. Carlton was striding on with a half indifferent, half supercilious nod to the boy, when the latter, bold, fearless, and angry, placed himself right in his path.

"Don't brush by me so quickly, if you please, Mr. Carlton. I'll thank you to explain first what it is you have been saying at Thrupp's farm about my father."

Mr. Carlton stared at him, stared more especially at the address; and the supercilious expression deepened on his countenance.

"You are in a passion, I should think, young sir," was the answer, delivered with stinging blandness. "I and Mr. Stephen Grey can settle our own affairs without your aid."

The tone turned Frederick half mad, and he forgot his prudence. "You are a wicked, designing man," he burst forth. "You have been working in an underhand manner to drive my father from the place; not a day passes but you are secretly traducing him. Why don't you do it openly before his face, Mr. Carlton? Why do you do it behind his back, when he can't defend himself?"

"I don't know what you mean," said Mr. Carlton. "Stand aside, and let me pass."

“You do know what I mean,” retorted the boy, keeping his place before Mr. Carlton, so that the surgeon could not pass. "He met you in consultation at Thrupp's this morning, and the moment his back was turned, you set on to prejudice their minds against him; saying he was in the habit of sending out poisoned medicines, and it frightened the woman so, that they will not have him again. And this has been your game for months. How dare you continue to assert that my

father poisoned the draught that night, when you know he did not? When you know it, I say!"

Mr. Carlton lifted his cane menacingly. "But for the respect I bear your uncle, as my brother practitioner, and your father also, in spite of the fatal error he committed, I would lay this about your shoulders, young gentleman, and teach you better manners."

Master Frederick's passion was not calmed by the threat, and it may be questioned if he even knew in that wild moment the danger of the words he was about to utter.

"You know, I say, that Mr. Stephen Grey did not commit the error. You know that it was you who dropped the poison into the draught when you were alone with it after it was delivered. Keep your cane off me, Mr. Carlton; blows will not mend murder. If it was not you, it was that villain you saw on the stairs, and you, perhaps by bribery, undertook to keep his counsel and turn suspicion off him. You saw that I suspected you the very night it was done, you saw that I suspected you when you were giving your plausible evidence at the inquest. What the poor young lady had done to you, you best know, but I believe in my true heart, and I tell it you with God hearing me, that you were guilty either of killing her, or of helping that man to do it, though by concealment. Now, go and talk about my father, Mr. Carlton."

now.

It was only by dint of the most ingenious dodging that Frederick Grey had been able to accomplish his say, but Mr. Carlton caught him The cane came down on his shoulders; and Frederick, passion giving him the strength of a young lion, seized it and broke it. Carlton walked away, leaving a careless and scornful epithet behind him; and the boy leaned against the gate to recover breath and equanimity.

Mr.

A tap on the shoulder, and Frederick turned. There stood Lady Jane Chesney. He raised his hat, and she could not help being struck with the nobility of the glowing countenance, the fearless truth of the large grey eyes.

"Master Grey, do you know that I have heard every syllable you said to Mr. Carlton? Surely you do not believe in your own accusation? It must have had its rise only in the heat of passion?"

"Lady Jane-I beg your pardon-I am sorry you heard this-I hope you do not think me capable of making such an accusation not believing it. I do believe it; I have believed it ever since the night. Not that I have any grounds, or what might be called reason for believing it," he hastily added. "It is but an instinct within that tells me so."

"Do you remember that--although we are at variance and I do not like him-he is my brother-in-law?"

"Yes. I am very sorry that you heard what passed," he repeated. "Perhaps, Lady Jane, you will be kind enough to let it be as though you had not heard it?"

"I will," said Lady Jane: "and in return allow me to recommend you not to give utterance to sentiments so dangerous. My opinion is that you are totally wrong in your fancy, and that prejudice against Mr. Carlton has led you into the error. It is impossible to believe otherwise. Some men-I do not know that Mr. Carlton is one-would bring you before the law for this, and make you prove your words, or punish you if you could not. Be more discreet in future."

"Thank you," he answered, his sunny smile returning to him; "it is a bargain, Lady Jane. I was in a dreadful passion, there's no denying it, and I did say more than I ought. Thank you very much."

And replacing his hat, for he had stood bareheaded during the interview, Frederick Grey vaulted away, flinging the pieces of cane from him as he ran. Lady Jane stood looking

after him.

them of even that portion of their native land to which Cromwell had given them a free and undisputed title. To this part of Connaught they felt they had as strong a claim as Protestants and Saxons have to "another place."

Knowing all this, I must confess I did not feel quite comfortable at the prospect of spending the night beneath the same roof with "Big Joyce" and his large family, notwithstanding the assurances of the driver with respect to the giant's peaceable disposition.

I had a room to myself, and when it grew dark was provided with a dip candle. I overheard some of the conversation in the kitchen, between Joyce and his wife, and knew, (although they spoke in Irish,) from the frequent use of the term "Sassenach "-which means Protestant, or Englishman, or Irish Protestant of Saxon descent-that I was the subject of their conversation. All this had a 66 Fee-foe-fum: I-smell-the-blood-of-an-Englishman my ears. I had not ventured to turn into bed, although the candle was burning low, but was thinking of it, when I heard a step approaching my room door. The latch was raised without knocking, and a red head protruded. It was not that of Big Joyce, but one of the young giants. The face wore a broad grin, which displayed a double row of strong-set teeth.

"Well, what do you want?"

sound to

The young fellow entered without replying, and placed an extinguisher on the table, bringing it down with a rap, and giving me a look which said, as plain as look could say, "What do you think of that?"

"What's that?" I asked, feigning ignorance and surprise, looking down on the extinguisher. "That is an out-er," said he, throwing back his head and shoulders with a sense of importance and of the advantages of civilisation. "A what?"

"If you see in the dark your eyes must be better than our black cat's. But stay, I'll get you a light in no time."

He brought the light and asked for my boots, which I gave him. Had he asked for my watch or purse I should have done the same, and with, perhaps, greater alacrity, for I felt I was in a giant's castle, from which there was no hope of escaping, even in a pair of "seven-leagued boots." There I was, trapped, and must take my chance. I had not courage to use the "out-er," but before the end of the candle dropped into the

hot socket I took off my coat and waistcoat and threw myself on the bed, the sheets of which were as pure and white as snow, and fragrant with thyme and wild heath.

Whether these herbs have soporiferous qualities or not I cannot say, but I soon fell asleep, and awoke in the morning without finding my throat cut, or anything of that kind, and to my utter amazement found my boots not only cleaned but polished. Yes, positively polished, in a district where the parish priest was proud to get his boots well buttered. I often asked myself "where the blacking came from?" for these were days when a jar of "Day and Martin" cost a shilling. There were no halfpenny cakes of paste-blacking in those days. The gigantic Joyces were a great puzzle to me ; they seemed to be in a sort of chrysalis or intermediate state between savage barbarism and advanced civilisation. White sheets, polished boots, and tin extinguishers shone or flashed out curiously amidst the general chaos of nature around me.

I was charged for supper-consisting of bacon, eggs, and potatos,-bed and breakfast, the moderate sum of half-a-crown, and for a pony, to carry me twelve miles, and a "boy," -who in Ireland may be of any imaginable size or age, to carry my bag, another half

crown.

My travelling companion, guide, and bagbearer was young Joyce, who brought in the "out-er," and, I suspect, polished my boots. He was much over six feet, though much under his gigantic parent. I found him a very pleasant travelling companion, with a good store of anecdotes respecting the wild district through which we passed, its inhabitants, and occasional tourists.

"There, sir," said he, pointing to a fearful chasm in the neighbourhood of Maam, through which a mountain torrent was rushing, "there is Mac Namara's Leap."

"And who is Mac Namara ?"
"Captain Mac Namara."
"Army or navy?"

"Not exactly that, sir."

"Oh, I know; in the merchant service." "No, sir; he was a sort of gentleman highwayman."

"Do you mean a robber?"

"I do."

"And you call him a gentleman ?"

"I do sir, a gentleman bred and born, and he lived in a slate house in Cong-he and his lady."

"His wife, you mean?"

Yes, sir, a real lady-one of the Butler

family."

"You mean the Ormonde family?"

did not wholly exterminate, but subverted idolatry, and then amalgamated the fragments with itself. The localities consecrated from of old to heathen deities were allowed to preserve their sacred character, by becoming the sites of Christian churches, often dedicated to saints whose names resembled, or were made to assimilate to, those of the idols they superseded. It was probably a similarity of name that assisted in superseding the worship of the pagan deity "Sviatoy Vit," by that of the Christian Saint Vitus; and the latter, accordingly, became in popular belief invested with the attributes of the former; being always represented as a beautiful youth, accompanied by a black cock-a bird sacred to the idol,-and which is to this day brought as an offering by the people, in their pilgrimages to the shrine of St. Vitus. A like policy was pursued with regard to the pagan festivals and ceremonies, which were not entirely abolished, but made to coincide and blend with those of the new faith. The antagonist creeds, when brought together, underwent a fusion, and the result was an alloy.

The heathen festival of the Beltane Fire, celebrated at the summer solstice, was readily associated, and then confounded, with the illuminated rites of the Roman Church on the vigil of St. John; and in this instance it was easy to convert the pagan observance into a Christian solemnity.

For some weeks previous to Midsummer-eve, the young people, all over the country, are active in collecting fuel for the bonfires to be kindled on that day; and among the articles in request are old besoms and cart-wheels out of use. The cart-wheels, being well smeared with rosin, are set on fire and allowed to roll down the hills. The besoms, dipped in tar, are set ablaze, and the young men wave them about, while dancing round and leaping through the bonfire, or run with them, flaming in their hands, from one bonfire to another, to leap over each in turn, being in this exercise imitated and rivalled by the damsels; for it is believed that to leap three times through the fire secures the performer from fever for the year. There are various methods of building up the pile for the bonfire, but when made of bundles of firewood, the number preferred is seven. A lofty tree, standing alone upon an eminence, near a village, is sometimes selected; and, being heaped round with dry branches and brushwood, the whole is set in flames, while the young people of both sexes dance in a circle around it. The tarred besoms are kindled at the fire; and, after being swung about and hurled into the air, the charred stumps are carried home, and stuck about the cabbage