on, barrin'--barrin'--"

"Barring what?" interposed Lanty, with an insolent grin.

The young man flushed at the impertinence of the insinuation, but said
not a word for a few minutes, then suddenly exclaimed--

"Lanty, I have changed my mind; I'll keep the mare."

The horse-dealer started, and stared him full in the face--

"Why Mr. Mark, surely you're not in earnest? The beast is paid for--the
bargain all settled."

"I don't care for that. There's your money again. I'll keep the mare."

"Ay, but listen to reason. The mare is mine. She was so when you handed
me the luck-penny, and if I don't wish to part with her, you cannot
compel me."

"Can't I?" retorted Mark, with a jeering laugh; "can't I, faith? Will
you tell me what's to prevent it? Will you take the law of me? Is that
your threat?"

"Devil a one ever said I was that mean, before!" replied Lanty, with an
air of deeply-offended pride. "I never demeaned myself to the law, and
I'm fifteen years buying and selling horses in every county in Munster.
No, Mr. Mark, it is not that; but I'll just tell you the truth, The mare
is all as one as sold already;--there it is now, and that's the whole
secret."

"Sold! What do you mean?--that you had sold that mare before you ever
bought her?"

"To be sure I did," cried Lanty, assuming a forced look of easy
assurance he was very far from feeling at the moment. "There's nothing
more common in my trade. Not one of us buys a beast without knowing
where the next owner is to be had."

"And do you mean, sir," said Mark, as he eyed him with a steady stare,
"do you mean to tell me that you came down here, as you would to a petty
fanner's cabin, with your bank-notes, ready to take whatever you may
pitch your fancy on, sure and certain that our necessities must make us
willing chapmen for all you care to deal in--do you dare to say that you
have done this with _me?_"

For an instant Lanty was confounded. He could not utter a word, and
looked around him in the vain hope of aid from any other quarter, but
none was forthcoming. Kerry was the only unoccupied witness of the
scene, and his face beamed with ineffable satisfaction at the turn
matters had taken, and as he rubbed his hands he could scarcely control
his desire to laugh outright, at the lamentable figure of his late
antagonist.

"Let me say one word, Master Mark," said Lanty at length, and in a voice
subdued to its very softest key--"just a single word in your own ea