ress's plans had been, as she thought, defeated by her
brother, and her departure prevented.

"Good God! Mr. Thady," said she, with pretended astonishment, "what
ails the misthress then?"

"Go in to her, Biddy, she'll want you; Captain Ussher is dead," and
he went into his father's room.

Here a still more distressing scene awaited him. He felt that if he
meant to escape he should not lose much time, but he could not leave
his father in ignorance of what had taken place. Larry was sitting,
as usual, over the fire with his pipe in his mouth, and was nearly
asleep, when Thady came in. The noise of the closing door roused him,
however; but he only put his empty glass to his lips, and when he
found there was nothing in it he turned round again dissatisfied to
the fire.

"Larry," said his son, "I've bad news for you."

"You've always bad news. I niver knew you have anything else."

"I'm going to lave you, father, altogether."

"Faix, then, that's no such bad news," said the cross old man. "The
door's open, and you've my lave; may be we 'll do as well without
you, as we're like to do with you."

Thady made no answer to this piece of silly ill-nature, but
continued--"Larry, you'll be sorry to hear what I've to tell you, but
I'd sooner you should hear it from me than from another. Myles Ussher
is dead; it was I, father, that killed him."

At the first declaration the old man had turned round in his chair,
and he sat staring at his son; but when he heard the second and more
dreadful part of the story, his jaw dropped, and he sat for some time
the picture of an idiot.

"He was bringing disgrace on you, Larry, and on your name; he was
disgracing your family and your daughter, and myself; he was dragging
Feemy away with him by night. I saw him with her, speechless and
fainting in his arms, and I struck him down as he was doing it with
my stick. I didn't think, father, to strike so hard, but his skull
was broken, and he died without a struggle."--The old man still
stared at him, and Thady continued,

"And now, father, I am going to lave you; for av I'm found here,
when they come to look for me, they'll take me to prison, and may
be when they come to hear the truth of it all,--and I suppose they
will,--they'll see I didn't mane to kill him; but if they call it
murdher, why then I trust you'll niver see me agin."

"Murdher," at last said the old man, laughing; "who doubts but that
it was murdher? in course they'll call