several minutes, staring around on every
side.

"Do, in heaven's name, be quiet," cried he at last; "let one or two only
talk at a time, and I shall learn what you mean."

A renewal of the clamour ensued; but this time it was a general effort
to enforce silence--a process which eventuated in a far greater uproar
than before.

"Who, or what are you?" cried Sir Marmaduke, at last losing all temper,
at the continuance of a tumult there seemed no prospect of coming to an
end.

"We're your honour's tenants, every one of us," shouted the crowd with
one voice.

"_My_ tenants!" reiterated he in horror and astonishment. "What! is it
possible that you are tenants on my property? Where do you live, my poor
old man?" said he, addressing a venerable old fellow, with a head as
white as snow, and a beard like a patriarch's.

"He does not talk any English, your honour's worship--he has only Irish;
he lives in the glen beyond," said a comely woman at his side.

"And you, where do you come from yourself?"

"I'm a poor widow, your honour, with six childer; and sorra bit I
have, but the little garden, and the grass of a goat; and sure, fifteen
shillings every half year is more nor I can pay, wid all the scrapin' in
life."

Sir Marmaduke turned away his head, and as he did so, his eye fell upon
a poor creature, whose bloated cheeks and swollen figure denoted dropsy.
The man interpreting the look into a compassionate inquiry, broke forth
in a feeble voice--"I brought the nine shillings with me, yer honour;
and though the captain refused to take it, I'm sure you won't turn
me out of the little place, for being a trifle late. It's the watery
dropsy--glory be to God!--I'm under; but they say I'm getting better."

While the poor creature spoke, a low muttering of pity burst from those
around him, and many a compassionate look, and many a cheering word was
expressed by those scarce less miserable than himself.

There was now a certain kind of order restored to the assembly; and
as Sir Marmaduke moved along the line, each in turn addressed his
supplication or complaint. One was threatened with a distress on his
pig, because he owed two half-years' rent, and could only pay a portion
of the debt; there was a failure in the potatoe crop, and a great famine
the consequence. Another was only recovering from the "shaking ague,"
and begged for time, since if he thrashed his oats, now, they would
bring nothing in the market. A third entreat