property; and two men were appointed to guard the place until he
should arrive.

The two men delegated to act as guardians, or, as they are technically
termed, "keepers," were old friends and comrades of the deceased,
and had served with him in the same yeomanry corps. Jack O'Malley
was a Roman Catholic--a square, stout-built, and handsome fellow,
with a pleasant word for every one, and full of that gaiety,
vivacity, and nonchalance for which the Roman Catholic peasantry
of Ireland are so particularly distinguished. He was now about
forty-five years of age, sternly attached to the dogmas of his
religion, and always remarkable for his revolutionary and anti-British
principles. He was brave as a lion, and never quailed before a man;
but, though caring so little for a LIVING man, he was extremely
afraid of a DEAD one, and would go ten miles out of his road at
night to avoid passing a "rath," or "haunted bush." Harry Taylor,
on the other hand, was a staunch Protestant; a tall, genteel-looking
man, of proud and imperious aspect, and full of reserve and hauteur--the
natural consequence of a consciousness of political and religious
ascendency and superiority of intelligence and education, which so
conspicuously marked the demeanour of the Protestant peasantry of
those days. Harry, too, loved his glass as well as Jack, but was
of a more peaceful disposition, and as he was well educated and
intelligent, he was utterly opposed to superstition, and laughed
to scorn the mere idea of ghosts, goblins, and fairies. Thus Jack
and Harry were diametrically opposed to each other in every point
except their love of the cruiskeen, yet they never failed to seize
every opportunity of being together; and, although they often blackened
each other's eyes in their political and religious disputes, yet
their quarrels were always amicably settled, and they never found