gentleman, once more. "I neither
doubt nor waver on the subject; so you will do right to detain him. I
shall lodge information against him immediately."

"Sir," said Phelim to the jailer, "the Square couldn't mane me at all,
in regard that it was another person he gave the letter to, for to bring
to you, the other person gave it to me. I can make my oath of that. Be
gorra, you're playin' your thrieks upon sthrangers now, I suppose."

"Why, you lying rascal," said the jailer, "have you not a few minutes
ago asserted to the contrary? Did you not tell me that your name was
Arthur, or Art Maguire? That you are Mr. S.'s messenger, and expect to
be made his groom. And now you deny all this."

"He's Phelim O'Toole," said the turnkey, "I'll swear to him; but if you
wait for a minute, I'll soon prove it."

He immediately retired to the cell of a convict, whom he knew to be from
the townland of Teernarogarah: and ordering its inmate to look through
the bars of his window, which commanded the yard, he asked him if there
was any one among them whom he knew.

The fellow in a few minutes replied, "Whethen, divil a one, barrin'
bouncin' Phelim O'Toole."

The turnkey brought him down to the yard, where he immediately
recognized Phelim as an old friend, shook hands with him, and addressed
him by his name.

"Bad luck to you," said Phelim in Irish, "is this a place to welcome
your friends to!"

"There is some mystery here," said the jailer. "I suppose the fact is,
that this fellow returned a wrong name to Mr. S., and that that accounts
for the name of Arthur Maguire being in the letter."

All Phelim's attempts to extricate himself were useless. He gave them
the proper version of the letter affair with Fool Art, but without
making the slightest impression. The jailer desired him to be locked up.

"Divil fire you all, you villains!" exclaimed Phelim, "is it goin' to put
me in crib ye are for no rason in life? Doesn't the whole parish
know that I was never off o' my bed for the last three months, wid a
complaint I had, until widin two or three days agone!"

"There are two excellent motives for putting you in crib," said the
jailer; "but if you can prove that you have been confined to your bed so
long as you say, why it will be all the better for yourself. Go with the
turnkey."

"No, tarenation to the fut I'll go," said Phelim, "till I'm carried."

"Doesn't the gintleman identify you, you villain," replied one of the
turnkeys