and took in this man after the Black
Smugglers had tried to burn the great house of Marnhoul.

"Well might I think so, indeed, your honours. For wounded the man was
right sore, and I nursed him for the sake of the goold he gave me.
Lashin's of goold, and the like had never been seen in our house since
before Boyd Connoway there, that now has the face to call himself a
convarted man, was the head of it."

"What did this man call himself?" the Fiscal demanded.

"Sure, he called himself Wringham Pollixfen Poole, my lord, and it was
not for me to be disbelievin' him."

"And after, when he was under strong suspicion of having wilfully made
away with Mr. Richard Poole of Dumfries, why did you say nothing?"

"Now, your honour," exclaimed Bridget, holding up her hands, "wad I be
telling aught like that to bring worse and worse on the head of any man
in trouble? If it had been yourself, now, how wad you have liked that,
your honour?"

"Leave me alone, Bridget. Answer what you are asked," said the Fiscal;
"when did you find out that this man was not what he pretended to be?"

"Is it the name he gave you mean, sorr?" said Bridget.

"Yes," said the Fiscal, watching her.

"Faith, then, just when he towld it me!" was the unexpected answer. And
then, moving a little nearer, she added confidentially in the Fiscal's
ear, "Would you have believed yourself, my lord, that a Black Smuggler,
newly off the _Golden Hind_, and a shipmate of old Dick Wilkes, that
died under the Wicked Flag, would be likely to give his true name and
address?"

"Then, by your story, you never knew that the deceased was in truth Mr.
Lalor Maitland, a member of his Majesty's present loyal parliament?"

"Faith, as to that, no," said Bridget, "and it's the saints' own pity,
for if I had known that in time--it's independent I would have been. No
more wash-tubs for Bridget Connoway!"

"For shame on you, Bridget, you that are an O'Neil, and the wife of a
Connoway!" cried Boyd indignantly.

"And the less you say of that, the better will the butter lie on your
bread!" said Bridget, advancing a step towards him threateningly. "Your
lordship, hearken to me--not an honest day's work has that man done
from January to December--nay, nor dishonest either, for the matter o'
that! 'Tis ashamed of himself he ought to be."

"Well," said the Fiscal, "it is a very good thing for you, Mrs.
Connoway, that young Sir Louis is likely to recover after the knock on
the head