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‘Now, Patrick, as they have all gone off and left this spot, it is time for us to follow their example.’

‘Fast as yer honor plases,’ replied Patrick, and so saying, he immediately followed Henry, who had advanced some paces ahead of him, and they then proceeded both together, on their intended expedition.

They walked on for some moments in silence, which, however, was broken by Henry, who thus addressed his companion,–

‘Well, Patrick, what do you think of this beautiful spot?’

‘Och, yer honor, and I think its just the most illigant little spot in the world, where the pratees, [meaning, possibly, the oranges and lemons,] grow on the trees, and where one never sees a snake, nor a sarpint at all, at all. Sure, and I think that the blessed Saint Patrick must have stopped at this place in the course of his travels, and killed all the snakes, and the frogs, and the vipers, bad luck to them, as he did in ould Ireland.’

‘But how should you like to live here altogether?’ asked Henry.

‘Live, is it, master Henry? Sure, an I had rather live here than any place in the wide world, besides barrin my own blessed ould Ireland.’

‘What, alone?’ again asked Huntington.

‘By the powers, sir, no, not a bit of it,’ replied the Patlander. ‘The devil a bit would Pat O’Leary wish to live alone in any place, bat I was just thinking, master Henry, that if you and Miss Hamilton, bless the light of her blessed black eyes, would only consint to be married, and live upon this pretty, convanient little island, what a nate, clane, comfortable serving man you might have in Patrick O’Leary.’

Not knowing exactly, in what way to reply to Patrick’s last speech, Henry remained for the time silent, and they thus proceeded on their journey, ascending first to the top of one hill, then after passing through a fertile and beautiful valley, ascending another, until at last they got completely tired. As they reached the second valley, Henry spoke as follows:

‘I think we had better rest here awhile, Patrick.’

‘Just as you plase, sir,’ answered his companion, ‘rest or go on, it’s all one to Paddy O’Leary.’

‘Then I guess we will stop here,’ said Henry.

So saying, he seated himself on the luxuriant green grass, beneath a fragrant orange tree, and Patrick was about to follow his example, when the sudden appearance of three men on the summit of an adjacent eminence, greeted the curious gaze which he cast around, and caused him to exclaim:

‘By the powers of mud and blarney, master Henry, if there is no four legged bastes upon this illigant bit of an island, there’s plenty of two legged ones.’

‘What do you mean,’ exclaimed Henry, starting to his feet.

‘What do I mane? An sure, and what shall I mane, yer honor, except just what I said? Just look at the top of that young mountain yonder, and you will see two ugly looking two legged bastes, headed by a third, who looks for all the world like the horrid baste with ‘sivin heads and ten horns,’ that Father McGrave used to tell us was stabled in purgatory, and ridden by the very ould divil himself.’

Turning his eyes in the direction intimated, Henry immediately discovered the three strong men to whom Patrick had alluded, and they seemed at the same time to have seen him, for soon afterwards he observed that they were descending the hill, and walking swiftly towards the place where he and his servant were standing.

‘By the boys of Bulskerry, them divils are all armed, every mother’s son of them,’ exclaimed O’Leary, as the strangers gained a near approach to them.

‘So they are, sure enough,’ answered Henry. ‘But what shall we do, Pat, run away, or stop and see what they want of us?’

‘It would surely be the asiest and most agreeable for both of us, to show them a light pair of heels, or, in yer honor’s own words, to run away, that is, if so be that we had any where to run to,–but as we haven’t, why, the best thing we can be after doing, is to–to do the best we can,–by staying where we am.’