prostituted and made a mask of."

"A mask! isn't that, sir, a thing that people put on and off their face,
according as it may suit them?"

"Just so, madam; you have exactly described it."

"Oh, the divil a mask ever he made of it, then, for he never lays it
aside at all. He has kept it on so steadily, that, I'll take my oath,
if he was to throw, it off now, he wouldn't know himself in the
looking-glass, it's so long since he got a glimpse of his own face."

"Lord Cumber must be a happy man to have two such valuable agents upon
his property."

"Talkin' of Lord Cumber and his property, if you wish to know all about
them, here's your man comin' over by the cross road here--he's goin'
to M'Clutchy's I suppose, and, as you appear to be goin' in the same
direction, I'll hand you over to him. Good morrow, Darby?"

"Good morrow, kindly, Poll, and--eh--who's this you've got wid you?" he
continued, eyeing Susanna, "a stranger to me, any how. Well, Poll, and
how are you?"

"There's no use in complainin', Darby; I'm middlin'--and how is
yourself?"

"Throth, Poll, I've a lump in my stomach that I fear will settle me yet,
if I don't get it removed somehow. But, sure, the hathens, I forgive
them." In the meantime he slyly rubbed his nose and winked both eyes, as
he looked towards Susanna, as much as to say, "I know all."

Poll, however, declined to notice the recognition, but renewed the
discourse--

"Why, Darby, how did the lump come into your stomach? Faith, in these
hard times, there's many a poor divel would be glad to have such a
complaint--eh?"

"And, is it possible you didn't hear it?" he asked with surprise,
"howandever, you shall. I was carrying a letther from Mr. M'Slime, that
good, pious crature"--another shrewd look at Susanna, "Mr. M'Slime to
Mr. M'Clutchy, another good gintleman, too, and who should attack me
on the way but that turncoat hathen Bob Beatty, wid a whole posse of
idolathers at his heels. They first abused me because I left them in
their darkness, and then went to search me for writs, swearin' that
they'd make me ait every writ I happened to have about me. Now, I
didn't like to let Mr. M'Slime's letther fall into their hands, and,
accordingly, I tore it up and swallowed it, jist in ordher to disappoint
the hathens. Howandever, I'm sufferin' for it, but sure you know, Poll,
it's our duty--I don't mane yours, for you're a hathen and idolather
still--but mine; it's my duty to suffer for the thru