large friend, dictating and commanding in
a tone which the other never ventured to resist; for a moment or two Mr.
Beamish expressed a great desire to be conveyed by night to Kilrush,
where he might find means to cross the Shannon into Kerry; this, however,
the doctor opposed strenuously, from the risque of publicity; and finally
settled that we should all go in a body to his friend, Father Malachi
Brennan's house, only two miles off, where the sick man would have the
most tender care, and what the doctor considered equally indispensable,
we ourselves a most excellent supper, and a hearty welcome.

"You know Father Malachi, of course, Mr. Lorrequer?"

"I am ashamed to say I do not."

"Not know Malachi Brennan and live in Clare! Well, well, that is
strange; sure he is the priest of this country for twelve miles in every
direction of you, and a better man, and a pleasanter, there does not live
in the diocese; though I'm his cousin that says it."

After professing all the possible pleasure it would afford my friend and
myself to make the acquaintance of Father Malachi, we proceeded to place
Mr. Beamish in a car that was passing at the time, and started for the
residence of the good priest. The whole of the way thither I was
occupied but by one thought, a burning anxiety to know the cause of our
quarrel, and I longed for the moment when I might get the doctor apart
from his friend, to make the inquiry.

"There--look down to your left, where you see the lights shining so
brightly, that is Father Malachi's house; as sure as my name is
De Courcy Finucane, there's fun going on there this night."

"Why, there certainly does seem a great illumination in the valley
there," said I.

"May I never," said the doctor, "if it isn't a station--"

"A station!--pray may I ask--"

"You need not ask a word on the subject; for, if I am a true prophet,
you'll know what it means before morning."

A little more chatting together, brought us to a narrow road, flanked on
either side by high hedges of hawthorn, and, in a few minutes more, we
stood before the priest's residence, a long, white-washed, thatched
house, having great appearance of comfort and convenience. Arrived here,
the doctor seemed at once to take on him the arrangement of the whole
party; for, after raising the latch and entering the house, he returned
to us in a few minutes, and said,

"Wait a while now; we'll not go in to Father Malachi, 'till we've put
Giles to