Squire Folliard understands what kind of a man Reilly is. As for myself,
I have nothing more to say."

"Don't go yet, O'Donnel," said Whitecraft; "let us determine what is to
be done with him. You see clearly it is necessary, Mr. Folliard, that
this deep-designing Jesuit should be sent out of the country."

"I would give half my estate he was fairly out of it," said the squire.
"He has brought calamity and misery into my family. Created world! how I
and mine have been deceived and imposed upon! Away with him--a thousand
leagues away with him! And that quickly too! Oh, the plausible,
deceitful villain! My child! my child!" and here the old man burst into
tears of the bitterest indignation. "Sir Robert, that cursed villain was
born, I fear, to be the shame and destruction of my house and name."

"Don't dream of such a thing," said the baronet. "On the day he dined
here--and you cannot forget my strong disinclination to meet him--but
even on that day you will recollect the treasonable language he used
against the laws of the realm. After my return home I took a note of
them, and I trust that you, sir, will corroborate, with respect to this
fact, the testimony which it is my purpose to give against him. I say
this the rather, Mr. Folliard, because it might seriously compromise
your own character with the Government, and as a magistrate, too, to
hear treasonable and seditious language at your own table, from a Papist
Jesuit, and yet decline to report it to the authorities."

"The laws, the authorities, and you be hanged, sir!" replied the squire;
"my table is, and has been, and ever shall be, the altar of confidence
to my guests; I shall never violate the laws of hospitality. Treat
the man fairly, I say, concoct no plot against him, bribe no false