of eternal happiness. Of one thing
you may rest assured, that the justice we seek will not stoop to those
who have been merely instruments in the hands of others."

"That's all very fine talk," replied Dunphy, uneasily however, "and from
the high-flown language you give me, I take you to be a lawyer; but
if you were ten times a lawyer, and a judge to the back of that, a man
can't tell what he doesn't know."

"Mark me," replied the stranger, assailing him through his cupidity, "I
pledge you my solemn word that for any available information you may or
can give us you shall be most liberally and amply remunerated."

"I have money enough," replied Dunphy; "that is to say, as much as
barely does me, for the wealthiest of us cannot bring it to the grave.
I'm thankful to you, but I can give you no assistance."

"Whom do you suspect, then?--whom do you even suspect?"

"Hut!--why, the man that every one suspects--Sir Thomas Gourlay."

"And upon what grounds, may I ask?"

"Why, simply because no other man had any interest in getting the child
removed. Every one knows he's a dark, tyrannical, bad man, that wouldn't
be apt to scruple at anything. There now," he added, "that is all I know
about it; and I suppose it's not more than you knew yourself before."

In order to close the dialogue he stood up, and at once led the way down
to the back parlor, where the stranger, on following him, found Ginty
Cooper and the old woman in close conversation, which instantly ceased
when they made their appearance.

The stranger, chagrined and vexed at his want of success, was about to
depart, when Dunphy's wife said:

"Maybe, sir, you'd wish to get your fortune tould? bekaise, if you
would, here's a woman that will tell it to you, and you may depend upon
it she'll tell you nothing but the truth."

"I am not in a humor for such nonsense, my good woman; I have much more
important matters to think of, I assure you; but I suppose the woman
wishes to have her hand crossed with silver; well, it shall be done.
Here, my good woman," he said offering her money, "accept this, and
spare your prophecy."

"I will not have your money, sir," replied the prophetess; "and I say so
to let you know that I'm not an impostor. Be advised, and hear me--show
me your hand."

The startling and almost supernatural appearance of the woman struck him
very forcibly, and with a kind of good-humored impatience, he stretched
out his hand to her. "Well," said he, "