the table,
and pushed fifty pieces towards the horse-dealer.

"As well as the best, sir," said Lanty, as he stored the money in his
long leathern pocket-book, and placed it within his breast pocket.

"Will Mrs. M'Kelly accept this small token, as a keepsake," said the
youth, while he took from around his neck a fine gold chain of Venetian
work, and threw it gallantly over Mary's; "this is the first shelter
I have found, after a long exile from my native land; and you, my old
comrade, I have left you the pistols you took a fancy too, they are
in the lugger--and so, now good-bye, all, I must take to the road at
once--I should like to have met the priest, but all chance of that seems
over."

Many and affectionate were the parting salutations between the young man
and the others; for, although he had mingled but little in the evening's
conversation, his mild and modest demeanour, added to the charm of
his good looks, had won their favourable opinions; besides that he was
pledged to a cause which had all their sympathies.

While the last good-bye was being spoken, Lanty had saddled and bridled
the hackney, and led him to the door. The storm was still raging
fiercely, and the night dark as ever.

"You'd better go a little ways up the glen, Lanty, beside him," said
Mary, as she looked out into the wild and dreary night.

"'Tis what I mean to do," said Lanty, "I'll show him as far as the turn
of the road."

Though the stranger declined the proffered civility, Lanty was firm in
his resolution, and the young man, vaulting lightly into the saddle,
called out a last farewell: to the others, and rode on beside his guide.

Mary had scarcely time to remove the remains of the supper, when Lanty
re-entered the cabin.

"He's the noble-hearted fellow, any way," said he, "and never took a
shilling off the first price I asked him;" and with that he put his
hand into his breast pocket to examine, once more, the strange coin of
France. With a start, a tremendous oath broke from him--"My money--my
pocket-book is lost," exclaimed he, in wild excitement, while he
ransacked pocket after pocket of his dress. "Bad luck to that glen, I
dropt it out there, and with the torrent of water that's falling, it
will never be found--och, murther, this is too bad."

In vain the others endeavoured to comfort and console him--all their
assurances of its safety, and the certainty of its being discovered the
next morning, were in vain. Lanty re-light