his life, we will become acquainted.'"

The squire paused and mused for some time, and then asked, "Was there no
more than this between you and him?"

"Nothing more, sir."

"And tell me, did he pay you the money?"

"Here it is," replied the Rapparee, pulling out a rag in which were the
precise number of guineas mentioned.

"But," said the squire, "we lost our way in the fog."

"Yes, sir," said the Rapparee. "Everything turned out in his favor. That
made very little difference. You would have been attacked in or about
that place, whether or not."

"Yes, but did you not attack my house that night? Did not you yourself
come down by the skylight, and enter, by violence, into my daughter's
apartment?"

"Well, when I heard of that, sir, I said, 'I give Reilly up for
ingenuity.' No, sir, that was his own trick; but afther all it was a bad
one, and tells aginst itself. Why, sir, neither I nor any of my men have
the power of makin' ourselves invisible. Do you think, sir--I put it to
your own common-sense--that if we had been there no one would have seen
us? Wasn't the whole country for miles round searched and scoured, and I
ask you, sir, was there hilt or hair of me or any one of my men seen
or even heard of? Sir Robert, I must be going now," he added. "I hope