My love, my angel;--_you devil, I'll thrash you, if
you don't be quiet!_--though separated from me, you are always present
to mind; your bright eyes, your raven locks--_your mouth's as hard as a
paving-stone, you brute!_--Oh, Fanny! if fate be ever propitious--should
I be blessed with the divine possession of your charms, you should then
know--_what a devil you are!_--you should then know the tenderest care.
I'll guard you, caress you, fondle you--_I'll bury my spurs in you, you
devil!_--Oh, Fanny! beloved one!--farewell--good night--a thousand
blessings on you!--_and now go and be hanged to you!_" said he,
bitterly, putting his spurs to his horse and galloping home.

* * * * *

When the doctor was satisfied that M'Garry was fast asleep, he and
Murphy left the room, and locked the door. They were encountered on the
lobby by several curious people, who wanted to know, "was the man
dead?" The doctor shook his head very gravely, and said "Not quite;"
while Murphy, with a serious nod, said "All over, I'm afraid, Mrs.
Fay;" for he perceived among the persons on the lobby a servant of
O'Grady's, who chanced to be in the town, and was all wonder and fright
at the news of his master having committed murder. Murphy and the
doctor proceeded to the dinner-room, where they found the drunken men
wrangling about what verdict they should bring in, and a discursive
dispute touching on "murder," and "manslaughter," and "accidental
death," and "the visitation of God," mingled with noisy toasts and
flowing cups, until any sagacity the company ever possessed was
sacrificed to the rosy god.

The lateness of the hour, and the state of the company, rendered riding
home impossible to most of them; so Mrs. Fay was called upon to prepare
beds. The inn did not afford a sufficiency of beds to accommodate every
gentleman with a single one, so a toss-up was resorted to, to decide
who should sleep double. The fortune of war cast the unfortunate James
Reddy upon the doctor, who, though one of the few who were capable of
self-protection, preferred remaining at the inn to riding home some
miles. Now James Reddy, though very drunk indeed, had sense enough left
to dislike the lot that fate had cast him. To sleep with such a
slovenly man as the doctor shocked James, who was a bit of a dandy. The
doctor seemed perfectly contented with the arrangement; and as he bade
Murphy "good night," a lurking devilment hung abou