put it then," muttered Kerry below
his breath, then added aloud--"Sorrow one she'd give, if I hadn't the
sixpence in my hand."

"Canna ye say it's no' for yoursel', it's for the house--she wad na
refuse that."

"No use in life," reiterated he solemnly; "she's a real naygur, and
would, not trust Father Luke with a week's snuff, and he's dealt there
for sneeshin these thirty years."

"A weel, a weel," said M'Nab in a low harsh voice; "the world's growing
waur and waur. Ye maun e'en gie her a shilling, and mind ye get nae bad
bawbees in change; she suld gie ye twelve for saxpence."

Kerry took the money without a word in reply; he was foiled in the plan
of his own devising, and with many a self-uttered sarcasm on the old
Scotchman, he descended the stairs once more.

"Is Master Herbert worse?" said the cook, as the old huntsman entered
the kitchen.

"Begorra he must be bad entirely, when ould Archy would give a shilling
to cure him. See here, he's sending me for lemons down to Mary's."

Kerry rung the coin upon the table as if to test its genuiness, and
muttered to himself--

"'Tis a good one, devil a lie in it."

'"There's the bell again; musha, how he rings it."

This time the voice of Sir Archy was heard in loud tones summoning Kerry
to his assistance, for Herbert had become suddenly worse, and the old
man was unable to prevent him rising from his bed and rushing from the
room.

The wild and excited tones of the youth were mixed with the deeper
utterings of the old man, who exerted all his efforts to calm and
restrain him as Kerry reached the spot. By his aid the boy was conveyed
back to his bed, where, exhausted by his own struggles, he lay without
speaking or moving for some hours.

It was not difficult to perceive, however, that this state boded more
unfavourably than the former one. The violent paroxysms of wild insanity
betokened, while they lasted, a degree of vital energy and force, which
now seemed totally to have given way; and although Kerry regarded the
change as for the better, the more practised and skilful mind of Sir
Archibald drew a far different and more dispiriting augury.

Thus passed the weary hours, and at last the long day began to decline,
but still no sign, nor sound, proclaimed the doctor's coming, and
M'Nab's anxiety became hourly more intense.

"If he come na soon," said he, after a long and dreary silence, "he need
na tak' the trouble to look at him."

"'Tis what I'm thin