semicircular ring about the hearth. Behind, on the kitchen-table sat
Paddy Smith, the servant-man, with three or four of the _gorsoons_ of
the village about him, engaged in an under-plot of their own. On the
other, a little removed from the light, sat Ned's two nieces, Biddy and
Bessy Connolly, former with Atty Johnson's mouth within whisper-reach
of her ear, and the latter seated close to her professed admirer, Billy
Fulton, her uncle's shopman.* This group; was completely abstracted from
the entertainment which was going forward in the circle round the fire.

* Each pair have been since married, and live not more
happily than I wish them. Fulton still lives in Ned's house
at the Cross-roads.

"I wondher," said Andy Morrow, "what makes Joe M'Crea throw down that
fine ould castle of his, in Aughentain?"

"I'm tould," said M'Roarkin, "that he expects money; for they say
there's a lot of it buried somewhere about the same building."

"Jist as much as there's in my wig," replied Shane Fadh, "and there's
ne'er a pocket to it yet. Why, bless your sowl, how could there be money
in it, whin the last man of the Grameses that owned it--I mane of the
ould stock, afore it went into Lord Mountjoy's hands--sould it out, ran
through the money, and died begging afther'? Did none of you ever hear
of--

'---- ---- ---- ---- Ould John Grame,
That swally'd the castle of Aughentain?'"

"That was long afore my time," said the poacher; "but I know that the