"Yes, sir, he's in the parlor."

"In the parlor," exclaimed Alick, looking keenly into her face; "what is he doing in the parlor, eh?"

"Why, he's readin' a letther, sir."

"Reading a letter, is he?"

"Yes, sir."

"Thank G.o.d!" exclaimed both the young men, breathing freely; "that will do, Letty--here, Letty, is half-a-crown for you to buy a ribbon."

"And another from me, Letty, to buy anything you fancy."

The girl looked at them with surprise, and for a moment or two seemed at a loss how to account for such evident excitement. At length she exclaimed: "By dad, I have it; you won the hunt, gintlemen."

"Better than that, Letty," they replied, nodding, and immediately entering the parlor.

"Well, boys," said the father, "a good day's sport?"

"Capital, father! are you long home!"

"Since about two o'clock."

"How did you come?"

"Why, boys, ye must know that either Dr. Turbot or I was fired at to-day. A bullet--a pistol bullet--whistled right between us in the parsonage garden, and the poor frightened doctor refused to come by the usual way, and, in consequence, I was obliged to take the lower road."

He then entered into a more detailed account of the attempted a.s.sa.s.sination, and heard from them, in reply, a history of their intelligence and adventure at Murderer's Corner with Hacket and Bryan, for so the fellows were named.

"Well," said the proctor, "thank G.o.d, things are not so bad as they report, after all; but, in the meantime, the plot appears to be thickening--here's more comfort," he added, handing him the notice which Mogue told him he had found upon the steps of the hall-doer, where, certainly, he had himself left it. John took the doc.u.ment and read as follows:--

"TO PROCTOR PURCEL AND HIS HORSE-WHIPPIN' SONS.

"This is to give you notice, that nothing can save yez. Look back upon your work an' see what yez desarve from the counthry. You began with a farm of sixty acres, and you took farm afther farm over the heads of the poor an' them that wor strugglin', until you now have six hundre' acres in your clutches. You made use of the strong purse against the wake man; an' if any one ventured to complain, he was sure to come in for a dose of the horsewhip from your tyrannical sons, or a dose of law from yourself. Now all that I've mentioned might be overlooked an' forgiven, for the sake of your wife and daughters, but it is for your conduct as a t.i.the Proctor that you and your sons must die. Don't think to escape me, for it can't be done. There is not a day in the week, nor an hour in the day, but I have you at my command. Be prepared, then, for your fate is sealed; and no earthly power can save you. There is the sign [three coffins] and the blood that marks my name is from my own veins. You and your sons must die.

"Captain Terror,

"The Millstone-breaker."

"Tut," said Alick, "we have received far worse than this; it has been written by some hedge schoolmaster; as for my part, I despise it."

"Well, boys, at all events," proceeded the proctor, "be a little more sparing with the horse-whip. The scoundrels deserve it to be sure; but at the same time it is not a thing that can be defended."

"Why, it's impossible to keep it from them, father," replied John; "their insolence is actually more than flesh and blood can bear. But had we not better make some inquiries into this precious production?"

"Where is the use of that?" said his father, to whom such communications had lost all their novelty and much of their interest; "however, you may do so; perhaps some accidental clue may be found that would lead us to discover the villain who wrote it."

Mogue was accordingly called in.

"How did this letter come into your hands, Mogue?" asked the proctor.

"It didn't come into them, sir," replied Mogue, with a smile which he intended to pa.s.s, for one of simplicity; "it was lyin' I got it, upon the hall-door steps."

"Did you see any strange person about the place, or near the hall-door to-day?" he asked.

"None, sir, sorra a creature--well now, wait--that I may never sup sorrow, but I did--there was a poor woman, sir, wid a whack of a son along wid her."

"Did you see her near the steps?"

"That I may be happy, sir, if I could take it upon me to say--not wishin' to tell a lie--but she might a' been there, the crathur."

"What kind of a looking woman was she?" asked John.

"A poor woman, sir, as I said."

"I do not mean that; of course, I know she was; but what dress had she on, and what kind of features or complexion had she? Was she big or little?"

"I'm just thinkin'," replied Mogue, seemingly attempting to recollect something, "was it to-day or yesterday I seen her."

"Well, but answer directly," said Alick, "what was she like?"

"The son of her was a bullet-headed _ownsha_," replied Mogue, "and herself--well now, that I may never die in sin, if I could say rightly.

I was fetehin' some oats to Gimlet Eye, an' didn't take any particular notice. The _ownsha_ had black sooty hair, cut short, an' walked as if his feet were sore--and indeed it strikes me that he had kibes--for these poor people isn't overly clane, an' don't wash their feet goin' to bed at night, barrin' at Christmas or Easther, the crathurs. But, sure the Lord look down on them, they have enough to do to live at all!"

"You couldn't say what direction she came from?"

"Well, then, no."

"Nor the direction she went by?"

"Well, no sir, I could not."

"But are you certain it was to-day, and not yesterday, you saw her?"

"Then that's what's puzzlin' me--eh! let me see--ay--it was to-day--an'

I'll tell you how I know it. Bekaise it was to-day I brought the oats to Gimlet Eye--you know he was harrowing the black park yestherday and was in care of Paudeen Sthuccaun. But sure, sir, maybe somebody else about the place seen them."

An investigation was consequently held upon this reasonable suggestion, but we need scarcely a.s.sure our readers, without effect; the aforesaid "poor woman" having had existence only in the fertile imagination of stainless and uncorrupted saint Mogue.

The latter had scarcely retired, when a gentle knock came to the door, and Alick, on opening it himself, found their friend and neighbor, Darby Hourigan, standing outside.

"Well, Hourigan, what do you want now? have you repented, and come to the resolution of paying your t.i.thes?"

Darby gave no direct answer, nor indeed any answer at all to these questions, but simply said, "There's a bit o' paper, sir, for Misther John."

"What is this? Oh, oh, a summons!--very well, Mr. Hourigan, my brother will attend to it."

"This is where John Purcel lives, sir?" proceeded the man, according to some form which he supposed necessary to give effect and reality to the service; "you acknowledge that, sir, do you?"