MacHale’s goat that’d go a piece of the road with every one.

Well, it’s a fact, says John Wyse. And there’s the man now that’ll tell you all about it, Martin Cunningham.

Sure enough the castle car drove up with Martin on it and Jack Power with him and a fellow named Crofter or Crofton, pensioner out of the collector general’s, an orangeman Blackburn does have on the registration and he drawing his pay or Crawford gallivanting around the country at the king’s expense.

Our travellers reached the rustic hostelry and alighted from their palfreys.

Ho, varlet! cried he, who by his mien seemed the leader of the party.

Saucy knave! To us!