a house planning and contriving mischief all day
long, inventing every kind of wickedness, and then getting people to
do it. See, now, I believe in my conscience the devil was the first
attorney, and it was just to serve his own ends that he bred a ruction
between Adam and Eve. But whisht! there's somebody stirring. Are you for
the road?"

"Yes, Darby; my mind's made up."

Indeed, his own elegant eulogium on legal pursuits assisted my
resolution, and filled my heart with renewed disgust at the thought of
such a guardian as Tony Basset.

We walked stealthily along the gloomy passages, traversed the old
hall, and noiselessly withdrew the heavy bolts and the great chain that
fastened the door. The rain was sweeping along the ground in torrents,
and the wind dashed it against the window panes in fitful gusts. It
needed all our strength to close the door after us against the storm,
and it was only after several trials that we succeeded in doing so. The
hollow sound of the oak door smote upon my heart as it closed behind me;
in an instant the sense of banishment, of utter destitution, was present
to my mind. I turned my eyes to gaze upon the old house,--to take my
last farewell of it forever! Gloomy as my prospect was, my sorrow was
less for the sad future than for the misery of the moment.

"No, Master Tom! no, you must go back," said Darby, who watched with
a tender interest the sickly paleness of my cheek, and the tottering
uncertainty of my walk.

"No, Darby," said I, with an effort at firmness; "I'll not look round
any more." And bending my head against the storm, I stepped out boldly
beside my companion. We walked on without speaking, and soon left the
neglected avenue and ruined gate lodge behind us, as we reached the
highroad that led to Athlone.

Darby, who only waited to let my first burst of sorrow find its natural
vent, no sooner perceived from my step and the renewed color of my cheek
that I had rallied my courage once more, than he opened all his stores
of agreeability, which, to my inexperience in such matters, were by
no means inconsiderable. Abandoning at once all high-flown
phraseology,--which Mr. M'Keown, I afterwards remarked, only retained as
a kind of gala suit for great occasions,--he spoke freely and naturally.
Lightening the way with many a story,--now grave, now gay,--he seemed
to care little for the inclemency of the weather, and looked pleasantly
forward to a happy evening as an ample reward