felt that the assertion was a lie, and he would consequently have been
detected. He was prepared, however.

"Throth then, gintlemen," he replied, "since you must have the truth,
and although maybe what I'm goin' to say won't be plaisin' to you, as
Sir Robert's friends, I must come out wid it; devil resave the color
of his money ever I seen yet, and it isn't but I often axed him for it.
No--but the sarvints often sind me up a bit from the kitchen below."

"Well, come," said the sergeant, "if you have been lyin' all your life,
you've spoke the truth now. I think we may let him go."

"I don't think we ought," said one of them, named Steen, a man of about
fifty years of age, and of Dutch descent; "as Bamet said, 'we don't know
what he is,' and I agree with him. He may be a Rapparee in disguise, or,
what is worse, Reilly himself."

"What Reilly do yez mane, gintlemen, wid submission?" asked Fergus.

"Why, Willy Reilly, the famous Papish," replied the sergeant. (We don't
wish to fatigue the reader with his drunken stutterings.) "It has been
sworn that he's training the Papishes every night to prepare them for
rebellion, and there's a warrant out for his apprehension. Do you know
him?"

"Throth I do, well; and to tell yez the truth, he doesn't stand very
high wid his own sort."

"Why so, my good fellow?"