s you love your own family--as you value Harman's life--let
him act according to his own way, for he knows them he has to deal with
best."

"Wo--wo--heavy and bitter betide you, Poll Doolin, if you are now
deceiving me, or prompting mo to do anything that is improper! I
will not act in this business blindfold--neither I nor my family are
conscious of evil, and I shall certainly acquaint them this moment with
the danger that is over them."

"By the souls of the dead," replied Poll, uttering the oath in Irish,
"if you do what you say there will be blood shed this night--the blood,
too, of the nearest and dearest to you! Do not be mad, I say, do not be
mad!"

"May God guide me?" exclaimed the distressed girl, bursting into tears;
"for of myself I know not how to act."

"Be guided by Mr. Phil," said she; "he is the only man living that can
prevent the damnable work that is designed against your family this
night."

She had scarcely uttered the words when Phil came breathless to the
window, and, as if moved by a sense of alarm, and an apprehension of
danger still greater than that expressed by Poll herself, he exclaimed--

"Miss M'Loughlin, it's no time for ceremony--my father's blood-hounds
are at your father's door; and there is but one way of saving your
family from violence and outrage. Excuse me--but I must pass in by this
window. You don't know what I risk by it; but for your sake and theirs
it must be done."

Even as he spake, the trampling of horses feet and the jingling of arms
were distinctly heard at M'Loughlin.'s door--a circumstance which so
completely paralyzed the distracted girl, that she became perfectly
powerless with affright. Phil availed himself of the moment, put his
hand to the window, which he raised up, and deliberately entered, after
which he shut it down. Poll, while he did so, coughed aloud, as if
giving a signal; and in an instant, a number of individuals mostly
females, approached the window, near enough to see young M'Clutchy
enter, and shut the window after him.

"Now," said Poll to the spectators, "I hope you're all satisfied; and
you, James Harman, will believe your own eyes, if you don't Poll Doolin.
Is that girl a fit wife for your cousin, do you think? Well, you're
satisfied, are you? Go home now, and help forrid the match, if you can.
You're a good witness of her conduct, at any rate."

"I did not believe you, Poll," replied the young man whom she addressed;
"but unfortunatel