morning, and that they must have passed here at daybreak."

With these words, which the Doctor regretted as soon as delivered, the
party rode away.

Mr. Roscommon resumed his service and counter wiping. But late that
night, when the bar was closed and the last loiterer was summarily
ejected, Mr. Roscommon, in the conjugal privacy of his chamber, produced
a legal-looking paper. "Read it, Maggie, darlint, for it's meself never
had the larning nor the parts."

Mistress Roscommon took the paper:

"Shure, it's law papers, making over some property to yis. O Moike! ye
havn't been spekilating!"

"Whist! and fwhotz that durty gray paper wid the sales and flourishes?"

"Faix, it bothers me intoirely. Shure it oin't in English."

"Whist! Maggie, it's a Spanish grant!"

"A Spanish grant? O Moike, and what did ye giv for it?"

Mr. Roscommon laid his finger beside his nose and said softly,
"Whishky!"