received all this excess of joyful gratulation much like a prince too
early accustomed to the homage of those around him to be much moved by
it, yet willing to requite it by the usual forms of royal courtesy. He
extended his hand graciously towards the turnkey, with a civil inquiry of
"How's a' wi' you, Dougal?"

"Oigh! oigh!" exclaimed Dougal, softening the sharp exclamations of his
surprise as he looked around with an eye of watchful alarm--"Oigh! to see
you here--to see you here!--Oigh!--what will come o' ye gin the bailies
suld come to get witting--ta filthy, gutty hallions, tat they are?"

My guide placed his finger on his lip, and said, "Fear nothing, Dougal;
your hands shall never draw a bolt on me."

"Tat sall they no," said Dougal; "she suld--she wad--that is, she wishes
them hacked aff by the elbows first--But when are ye gaun yonder again?
and ye'll no forget to let her ken--she's your puir cousin, God kens,
only seven times removed."

"I will let you ken, Dougal, as soon as my plans are settled."

"And, by her sooth, when you do, an it were twal o' the Sunday at e'en,
she'll fling her keys at the provost's head or she gie them anither turn,
and that or ever Monday morning begins--see if she winna."

My mysterious stranger cut his acquaintance's ecstasies short by again
addressing him, in what I afterwards understood to be the Irish, Earse,
or Gaelic, explaining, probably, the services which he required at his
hand. The answer, "Wi' a' her heart--wi' a' her soul," with a good deal
of indistinct muttering in a similar tone, intimated the turnkey's