he streets. I'm told
there's fifty more to die to-morrow!"

"I'll follow you; you needn't fear me; and I've a message for the
master."

"Thank God for that, if it's a good one!" said she. "Keep close on the
other side, and mark where I go in. I will leave the door open; we are
on the top stage." And she darted across the road.

I kept her well in view, till she disappeared at the door of a tall,
dingy house of some six stories high. The bottom floor was occupied by
a seller of wreaths and candles for worshippers at the cathedral--a poor
enough business in those days. Above him was a dresser of frills and
lace shirt-fronts; and above this were various tenants, some with
callings, some with none, all apparently needy, and glad of the chance
of hiding in so economical a tenement. A list of the occupants was hung
on the door, by order of the Convention, and the names of _Lestrange,
femme, et domestique_, duly figured upon it. A common staircase led to
all the floors, but I encountered no one as I toiled to the top of all,
where stood Biddy, with her finger up, motioning to me to be silent.

It went to my heart to see the two poor rooms into which I was ushered--
one occupied as a bedroom and sitting-room by the old couple, the other
as a kitchen and bedroom by Biddy. The walls were plain plaster, behind
which you could hear rats running. The ceiling was low and black with
smoke, the windows small and broken. The furniture, once good, was
faded and in rents; and the few luxuries, such as books and pictures,
looked so forlorn that the place would have seemed more comfortable
without them.

All this I took in as I advanced into the room at Biddy's heels.

"Plaze, yer honour, this is Barry Gallagher from Knockowen with a
message for yez."

Mr Lestrange sat dozing beside the fire, with a _Moniteur_ on his knee.
His wife, a sweet and placid-looking woman, sat opposite him knitting.

At the sound of Biddy's announcement both started to their feet.

"A message!" exclaimed Mr Lestrange; "what message?"

"None too cheery," said I, anxious not to raise false hopes.

I then recounted my adventures by the road, and ended up with reciting
the contents (or most of them) of the letter from my lady at Knockowen.
I took care to omit the little sentence about Miss Kit's interest in
Captain Lestrange's movements, which did not seem to me worth recalling.

Mr Lestrange's face fell heavily as he heard me out.

"No money