o his sarvants and
recoverin' his daughter out of her faint, he was goin' away wid her
out of the room, whin the divil caught howld of him by the skirt of
the coat, and the colonel was obleeged to let his daughter be carried
out by the sarvants, and shut the door afther them.

'Well,' says the divil, and he grinn'd and wagg'd his tail, all as one
as a dog when he's plaised; 'what do you say now?' says he.

'Oh,' says the colonel, 'only lave me alone until I bury my poor
wife,' says he, 'and I'll go with you then, you villain,' says he.

'Don't call names,' says the divil; 'you had better keep a civil
tongue in your head,' says he; 'and it doesn't become a gintleman to
forget good manners.'

'Well, sir, to make a long story short, the divil purtended to let him
off, out of kindness, for three days antil his wife was buried; but
the raison of it was this, that when the lady his daughter fainted, he
loosened the clothes about her throat, and in pulling some of her
dhress away, he tuk off a goold chain that was on her neck and put it
in his pocket, and the chain had a diamond crass on it (the Lord be
praised!) and the divil darn't touch him while he had _the sign of the
crass_ about him.

Well, the poor colonel (God forgive him!) was grieved for the loss of
his lady, and she had an _illigant berrin_--and they say that when the
prayers was readin' over the dead, the owld colonel took it to heart
like anything, and the word o' God kem home to his poor sinful sowl at
last.

Well, sir, to make a long story short, the ind of it was, that for the
three days o' grace that was given to him the poor deluded owld sinner
did nothin' at all but read the Bible from mornin' till night, and bit
or sup didn't pass his lips all the time, he was so intint upon the
Holy Book, but he sat up in an owld room in the far ind of the house,
and bid no one disturb him an no account, and struv to make his heart
bould with the words iv life; and sure it was somethin' strinthened
him at last, though as the time drew nigh that the _inimy_ was to
come, he didn't feel aisy, and no wondher; and, bedad the three days
was past and gone in no time, and the story goes that at the dead hour
o' the night, when the poor sinner was readin' away as fast as he
could, my jew'l, his heart jumped up to his mouth at gettin' a tap on
the shoulder.

'Oh, murther!' says he, 'who's there?' for he was afeard to look up.

'It's me,' says the _owld one_, and he stood