was the happiest man at times, and at others the most miserable. Though
he took Sukey into his confidence, Fernando was a little shy
of Terrence.

The reader will remember that Terrence had, on entering the village,
suggested the propriety of going under assumed names. Fernando had
forgotten, if he ever knew, that he was registered at the tavern as Mr.
Phil. Magrew of Hartford, and that good, innocent Sukey was George
Molesworth, while Terrence was Larry O'Connor, a name quite in keeping
with his nationality. A ludicrous mistake, which came near being fatal
to Fernando's respectability at Mariana, resulted from this incident.

They had been a week at the tavern, and Fernando, who had lived a
thousand years of alternating bliss and agony in that short period, was
sitting in the bar-room in front of a great roaring fire, which the
chill evening of early autumn made comfortable, utterly oblivious of the
grumbling of the landlord, who was saying:

"When people stay a whole week 'thout any luggage, it be high time they
pay up. I wonder Mr. Magrew don't take notice on't."

The supposed Mr. Magrew, however, did not hear what he said. He was
gazing into the blazing fire, weaving bright pictures from which the
eyes of Morgianna seemed gazing at him. Fernando had forgotten the
academy, home, parents and all in this new inspiration. Terrence and
Sukey entered while the landlord was still grumbling and looking hard at
Fernando, who was utterly oblivious of his wrath.

"Mister Magrew, be ye a man o' honor?" demanded mine host; but "Mr.
Magrew" was as indifferent as a statue of stone. "The wagabond sits