will tell you."

"How then did you come to describe the barn--or rather, was your
description correct?"

"Ay, as Gospel. You don't know that by the best of luck and providence
of God, I was two years and a half an inside laborer with Mr. Graham. As
is usual, all the inside men-servants slept, wintrier and summer, in the
barn; and that accounts for our good fortune this night. Only for that
scoundrel, Steen, however, the whole thing would not have signified
much; but he's a black and deep villain that. Nobody likes him but his
brother scoundrel, Whitecraft, and he's a favorite with him, bekaise
he's an active and unscrupulous tool in his hands. Many a time, when
these men--military-militia-yeomen, or whatever they call them, are sent
out by this same Sir Robert, the poor fellows don't wish to catch what
they call the unfortunate Papish-es, and before they come to the house
they'll fire off their guns, pretinding to be in a big passion, but only
to give their poor neighbors notice to escape as soon as they can."

In a short time they reached widow Buckley's cabin, who, on
understanding that it was Reilly who sought admittance, lost not a
moment in opening the door and letting them in. There was no candle lit
when they entered, but there was a bright turf fire "blinkin' bonnilie"
in the fireplace, from which a mellow light emanated that danced upon
the few plain plates that were neatly ranged upon her humble dresser,
but which fell still more strongly upon a clean and well-swept hearth,
on one side of which was an humble armchair of straw, and on the other a
grave, but placid-looking cat, purring, with half-closed eyes, her usual
song for the evening.