y well, a suchar--very well," he replied; "it's for nobody livin'
but yourself I'd do it; but sure, now that I must begin to coort you for
Darby, it won't be aisy to refuse you for anything in raison."

"Mind, then," she observed, as she seized one of the portions, in order
to proceed home; "mind," said she, laying her hand upon that which she
was leaving behind her; "mind it's for this one I have paid you."

"Very well, achora, it makes no difference; sure a kiss o' them red,
purty lips o' yours to Darby will pay the inthrest for all."

Two other females now made their appearance, one with whom our readers
are already acquainted. This was no other than the prophet's wife,
who had for her companion a woman whom neither she herself nor any one
present knew.

"Mave Sullivan, darlin'," exclaimed the former, "I'm glad to see you.
Are you goin' home, now?"

"I am, Nelly," replied Mave, "jist on my step."

"Well, thin, if you stop a minute or two, I'll be part o' the way wid
you. I have somethin' to mention as we go along."

"Very well, then," replied Mave; "make as much haste as you can, Nelly,
for I'm in a hurry;" and an expression of melancholy settled upon her
countenance as she spoke.

The stranger was a tall thin woman, much about the age and height of the
prophet's 'wife, but neither so lusty nor so vigorous in appearance,
She was but indifferently dressed, and though her features had evidently
been handsome in her younger days, yet there was now a thin, shrewish
expression about the nose, and a sharpness about the compressed lips,
and those curves which bounded in her mouth, that betokened much
firmness if not obstinancy in her character, joined to a look which
might as well be considered an indication of trial and suffering, as of
a temper naturally none of the best.

On hearing Mave Sullivan's name mentioned, she started, and looked at
her keenly, and for a considerable time; after which she asked for
a drink of water, which she got in the kitchen, where she sat, as it
seemed to rest a little.

Nelly, in the meantime, put her hand in a red, three-cornered pocket
that hung by her side, and pulling out a piece of writing, presented it
to the meal man. That worthy gentleman, on casting his eye over it, read
as follows:

"Dear Skinadre: Give Daniel M'Gowan, otherwise the Black Prophet, any
quantity of meal necessary for his own family, which please charge, (and
you know why,) to your friend,

"Dick o' t