lanagan, at what time and place he could see
her. This arrangement having been made, Connor immediately wrote the
letter, and, after having despatched Flanagan upon his errand, set
himself to perform, by his individual labor, the task which his father
had portioned out for both. Ere Bartle's return, Fardorougha came to
inspect their progress in the meadow, and, on finding that the servant
was absent, he inquired sharply into the cause of it.

"He's gone on a message for me," replied Connor, with the utmost
frankness.

"But that's a bad way for him to mind his business," said the father.

"I'll have the task that you set both of us finished," replied the son,
"so that you'll lose nothin' by his absence, at all events."

"It's wrong, Connor, it's wrong; where did you sind him to?"

"To Bodagh Buie's wid a letter to Una."

"It's a waste of time, an' a loss of work; about that business I have
something to say to your mother an' you to--night, afther the supper,
when the rest goes to bed."

"I hope, father,you'll do the dacent thing still."

"No; but I hope, son, you'll do the wise thing still; how--an--ever let
me alone now; if you expect me to do anything, you mustn't drive me as
your mother does. To-night we'll make up a plan that'll outdo Bodagh
Buie. Before you come home, Connor, throw a stone or two in that gap,
to prevent the cows from gettin' into the hay; it won't cost you much
throuble. But, Connor, did you ever see sich a gut as Bartle has?
He'll brake me out o'house an' home feedin' him; he has a stomach for
ten-penny-nails; be my word it 'ud be a charity to give him a dose of
oak bark to make him dacent; he's a divil at aitin', an' little good may
it do him!"

The hour of supper arrived without Bartle's returning, and Connor's
impatience began to overcome him, when Fardorougha, for the first time,
introduced the subject which lay nearest his son's heart.

"Connor," he began, "I've been thinkin' of this affair with Una O'Brien;
an' in my opinion there's but one way out of it; but if you're a fool
an' stand in your own light, it's not my fault."

"What is the way, father?" inquired Connor.

"The very same I tould your mother an' you before--run away wid her--I
mane make a runaway match of it--then refuse to marry her unless they
come down wid the money. You know afther runnin' away wid you nobody
else ever would marry her; so that rather than see their child
disgraced, never fear but they'll pay down