he Grange, Jun."

Skinadre's face, on perusing this document, was that of a man who felt
himself pulled in different directions by something at once mortifying
and pleasant. He smiled at first, then bit his lips, winked one eye,
then another; looked at the prophet's wife with complacency, but
immediately checked himself, and began to look keen and peevish. This,
however, appeared to be an error on the other side; and the consequence
was, that, after some comical alterations, his countenance settled down
into its usual expression.

"Troth," said he, "that same Dick o' the Grange, as he calls himself,
is a quare young gintleman; as much male as you want--a quare, mad--your
family's small, I think?"

"But sharp an' active," she replied, with a hard smile, as of one who
cared not for the mirth she made, "as far as we go."

"Ay," said he, abruptly, "divil a much--God pardon me for swearin'--ever
they wor for good that had a large appetite. It's a bad sign of either
man or woman. There never was a villain hanged yet that didn't ait more
to his last breakfast than ever he did at a meal in his life before.
How-an-ever, one may as well have a friend; so I suppose, we must give
you a thrifle."

When her portion was weighed out, she and Mave Sullivan left this scene
of extortion together, followed by the strange woman, who seemed, as
it were, to watch their motions, or at least to feel some particular
interest in them.

He had again resumed his place at the scales, and was about to proceed
in his exactions, when the door opened, and a powerful young man, tall,
big boned and broad shouldered, entered the room, leading or rather
dragging with him the poor young-woman and her child, who had just left
the place in such bitterness and affliction. He was singularly handsome,
and of such resolute and manly bearing, that it was impossible not to
mark him as a person calculated to impress one with a strong anxiety to
know who and what he might be. On this occasion his cheek was blanched
and his eye emitted a turbid fire, which could scarcely be determined as
that of indignation or illness.

"Is it thrue," he asked, "that you've dared to refuse to
this--this--unfor--is it thrue that you've dared to refuse this girl and
her starvin' father and mother the meal she wanted? Is this thrue, you
hard-hearted ould scoundrel?--bekaise if it is, by the blessed sky above
us, I'll pull the wind-pipe out of you, you infernal miser!"

He seiz