was my poor brother Edward."

"How is that old scoundrel of a Black Baronet in your neighborhood--Sir
Thomas--he who murdered his brother's heir?"

"For God's sake, Mr. Ambrose, don't say so. Don't you know that he got
heavy damages against Captain Furlong for using the same words?"

"He be hanged," said the tipsy student; "he murdered him as sure as I
sit at this table; and God bless the worthy, be the same man or woman,
who left himself, as he left his brother's widow, without an heir to his
ill-gotten title and property."

The fortune-teller rose up, and entreated him not to speak harshly
against Sir Thomas Gourlay, adding, "That, perhaps, he was not so bad
as the people supposed; but," she added, "as they--that is, she and
her brother--happened to be in town, they were anxious to see him (the
student); and, indeed, they would feel obliged if he came with them into
the front room for ten minutes or so, as they wished to have a little
private conversation with him."

The change in his features at this intimation was indeed surprising.
A keen, sharp sense of self-possession, an instant recollection of his
position and circumstances, banished from them, almost in an instant,
the somewhat careless and tipsy expression which they possessed on his
entrance.

"Certainly," said he--"Mr. O'Donegan, will you take care of yourself
until we return?"