Mr. Hill and Mr. Marshal looked at one another during this speech; and
the dread of ridicule again seized on Mr. Hill, when he apprehended that,
after all he had said, the mountain might at last bring forth--a rat. Mr.
Marshal, who instantly saw what passed in the verger's mind, relieved him
from this fear by refraining even from a smile on this occasion. He only
said to the child, in a grave manner, "I am afraid, my dear, we shall be
obliged to spoil your diversion. Mr. Verger, here, cannot suffer rat-
holes in the cathedral; but, to make you amends for the loss of your
favourite, I will give you a very pretty little dog, if you have a mind."

The child was well pleased with this promise; and, at Mr. Marshal's
desire, she then went along with him and Mr. Hill to the cathedral, and
they placed themselves at a little distance from that hole which had
created so much disturbance. The child soon brought the dreadful enemy
to light; and Mr. Hill, with a faint laugh, said, "I'm glad it's no
worse, but there were many in our club who were of my opinion; and, if
they had not suspected O'Neill too, I am sure I should never have given
you so much trouble, sir, as I have done this morning. But I hope, as
the club know nothing about that vagabond, that king of the gipsies, you
will not let any one know anything about the prophecy, and all that? I
am sure I am very sorry to have given you so much trouble, Mr. Marshal."

Mr. Marshal assured him that he did not regret the time which he had
spent in endeavouring to clear up all those mysteries and suspicions; and
Mr. Hill gladly accepted his invitation to meet O'Neill at his house the
next day. No sooner had Mr. Marshal brought one of the parties to reason
and good humour than he went to prepare the other for a reconciliation.
O'Neill and his mother were both people of warm but forgiving tempers--the
arrest was fresh in their minds; but when Mr. Marshal represented to them
the whole affair, and the verger's prejudices, in a humorous light, they