"I am sorry," said the principal of them, "for what has happened, both
on your account and his. Do you know this hat?"

"I do know it," replied the old man; "it belongs to John. Come out
here," said he, "here's Tom Breen wid your hat."

The son left his room, and it was evident from his appearance that he
had not undressed at all during the night. The constables immediately
observed these circumstances, which they did not fail to interpret to
his disadvantage.

"Here is your hat," said the man who bore it; "one would think you were
travelin' all night, by your looks."

The son thanked him for his civility, got clean stockings, and after
arranging his dress, said to his father--

"I'm now ready to go, father, an' as I can't do what you want me to do,
there's nothing for me but to leave the country for a while."

"He acknowledged it himself," said the father, turning to Breen; "an' in
that case, how could I let the son that shamed me live undher my roof?"

"He's the last young man in the country I stand in," said Breen, "that
any one who knew him would suspect to be guilty of robbery. Upon my
soul, Lamh Laudher More, I'm both grieved an' distressed at it. We're
come to arrest him," he added, "for the robbery he committed last
night."