" Awe! ar' you t' sarvent ? well, which is t' way?"
"Miss Jones desired I'd get a coach, Ma'am , when you'd have your luggage all ready."
"Awe, aye, there's more than you can carry, agh reckon; bud cum here, me mann . Ask t' coachman what he'll charge before you put t' boxes in, or else we shall hev' a faan penny to pay, agh guess."
"Oh! no fear , Miss, there's a reg'lar fare."
"A fair! an' can't we go round? Mun we go through 't, whether or naw . Awe , Betsey! t' lad says we mun gang through t' fair! Awe , dearee me , agh wish uncle John was here: we shall be robbed and murthered , be werselves , to mak t' least on't . Is it Bartelmy Fair, yon?"
"Ma'am?"
" Well , agh do say, cuzzen James mite a cum to meet uz , Agh nivver was in a fair bud once, and then agh skreeked for fright at t' moontebanks . Awe , Betsey, what shall we do, bairn ?"

As we pursued our way after leaving the main street, the man leant forward and said --
"'Much business doing now, sir?'
"'I don't know.'
"' Vorse luck. I took to't myself once.'
" 'Took to what? I don't understand you, fellow.'
" O , ye don't hunderstand me, feller , doesn't ye ? Vy , you knows vell enough as I was once in the same line as yourself.'
"'What line? You labour under some mistake. Drive on, or I'll leave your cabriolet.'
"' Vell , you've grown mighty big sin' I seed ye last, howsomdever . Me and Bill, ye see , was nabbed by that 'ere old bloody beak about that 'ere old cove's ticker at Brummondsey. Bill was scragged , d'ye see, -- and I took a driving this here cab.'
"'Drive on, fellow, or I'll complain to the police.'
"'Come, come, there ain't no manner o' use for to go hargufying in this here manner -- but mum's the word -- I wouldn't never be the lad to peach , if so be as you're on the private lay .- Lord, Jem!' he cried, suddenly pulling up, ' here's your chance! Dash me if that there old gintleman bain't dreadful drunk, and never none arter him to see arter his cly . -- Jump, Jem, you're the lad to clean him out .-- Shall I wait and go halves ?'
"'Let me out of your infernal carriage, you impudent rascal. I don't understand a word you say. -- Here's a shilling.'
"'Thank ye for nothing,' said the man;- that's a wery hunfriendly thing for you to do. -- I sees the seals as plain as ever I seed any thing - rale gold 'uns , by the hooky . If you'll only hold the reins, I'll have a grab at 'em myself.'

"Are those people peasants or fishers of the district?" asked Gerald of his present companion, coachee, as he turned his regards away?
"Neither one nor the other, Sir," answered coachee, after a short glance, which, for a moment, betokened a lively interest: " but stop, one of 'em may be; the other, the elder of the two, is a stranger, come one or two countries off ; I know it by the colour of his wrap-rascal, waist-coat, and stockings -- and more of his kind, I'm afeard , is near him, this morning -- divvle's luck to their visit to this quiet part of the world! -- Go home, daddy !" continued coachee, good-humouredly, as he flourishingly whipped by the men, addressing himself to the individual of whom he had last spoken -- "go home, and mind your ould thrade among your own nate hills and bogs, an' lave honest people here, on the say-side , to fry their own fish without you lighting the fire for 'em ," "Whoo!" shouted both the men, prancing upward, where they stood, in full return of humour to coachee's remonstrance, and without a trait of their late ferocity of expression towards Gerald. "And," continued the person particularly concerned in the address, "just whip your lane cattle , for the pinny the mile , my chap, from Dublin town, and make your scrape to the genteels for the same, when you get it."
"Come here," requested coachee, half pulling up, "come here, I tell you; now that I think of it, I want you."
The man ran, laughingly, inside the road fence, until he again came abreast with the coach.
" An' well," he resumed, " what's the thrick you think you can put on a poor countryman, now?"
"Are you a judge of a swellin' ?" demanded coachee, stuffing out his cheek with his tongue.
"No; but you are, maybe," replied the man, puffing out both his cheeks; and immediately there was a shout of gleeish triumph for him from the friend he had left behind, as well as from other who had just joined that person.

"I will go amonsht dem , and I will preash amonsht dem , and I vill thereby shee conversions amonsht dem , and the vorld vill shee conversions," promised Mr. Loupe, taking up Mr. O'Hanlon, "and de vord shall be theirs, and dwell amonsht dem : I vill tell dem of my sojourning in de holiest chitty , and round about by de dead vaters of de Dead Shea , and round about de holy mountain, and on de top of de same, and in de holy valleys and holy places, and of de hopes dat vere born of my preashing and teashing , in every place, to de poor followers of de superstition of Rome; and den , dey also shall believe; for de people of Ireland are people ve have reashon to hope vell of, and many coming out from dem , over de vaters , to dis land, are good in de sight of good men."

"Who is your honour?" he questioned, in continued agitation. Gerald remained silent.
" Does your honour want to have any thing to say to me , Sir?"
Still Gerald gave no answer.
" Murther !" cried the conscience-smitten young brigand, rising, with difficulty, on his unhurt elbow. " Paudge ! -- Father! where are ye ? to be going and laving me here, when it's your company I want more than the victuals! an' a sthrange magistrate come here upon me, and going to whip me off with him! -- Father! -- Paudge !"
Gerald's blood absolutely curdled at the certainty which the peculiar tone and cadence of the speaker brought to his mind. He was able, however, to say , "Hush, man, hush! -- I am no magistrate and mean you no harm. But, tell me, where am I? -- this is not Wales?"
"Wales? what Wales? to the devil with Wales, taffies, and innions and all! what do you mean by that sort of talk? -- Keep off!" as Gerald unconsciously stepped closer. " It's wanting to coax youself on me you'd be . Keep off, I say! or, maybe, the bould boy you fear most is nearer than you think -- Arragh , Daddy! Gossip ! where are ye , I say?"
" So, thought Gerald -- "so; I am in the Emerald Isle, after all; and, if I rightly translate the elegant turn, 'bould boy,' one of my first chamber-mates may turn out to be no other than Captain Rock himself. "

The galloping of a horse was heard near at hand on the road, and then through the gate that led up to the house, and, mixed with the sound, a woman's voice repeated -- "The Farrels! Never mind the Farrels! ye have no right to spill blood in their name! Hould your hand, Dinny Hogan, if it isn't too late to bid you! -- hould your hand, and listen to me!" The speaker, Moya Farrel, here came upon the scene, jumped from her horse, and ran between Bignel and his executioners. The land-steward swooned.
"No," she continued; "if poor Mickle and I can't forget what he did to us, we forgive it; and, I say again, that's why ye have no right to harm a hair of his head on our account. And, morebetoken , Mickle has sent me here, to tell ye so, and to bid you , on every other account, not to touch Bignel! And well ye know ye are book-sworn to do his bidding."
"Where is Mickle himself?" asked Dennis.
"Coming after me," replied Moya; "and you have a rason of your own, Dinny Hogan, to be wondering at that! Good care you took to keep him from hindering this work, ever since he left me, last night! But he got away from your boys, just in the nick o' time, Dinny, to stop your hand from it, and from more than it, maybe -- Ah!" as, looking around, she espied Gerald, -- "but there he is, too, safe and sound yet!"
"He?" repeated Dennis; "and do you know who the doul the Sassenach is?"
"I do, -- and you a little of him, as well as me, Dinny , though not as I do; you know him for the good-hearted gentleman that saved your captain's life on the strange road, and his wife's and their poor childer's life -- ay , and that helped him, by good advice, and kind words, to play the part he'll surely play tonight, in spite o' you. [...]"

The inn was presently cleared of all but the landlord, who had stepped into an adjoining room, and the Jewish guest, who still remained in the parlour. The latter seized the opportunity of making his exit unperceived.
" What , host! " he said in a loud whisper; " mine coot sir, hosht !"
The landlord re-entered, surveying the Jew with a suspicious air.
"Can you tell me," said the latter, touching the landlord's arm in a familiar manner with the head of his cane, "where dosh that shentleman live -- that Mishter Fullarton?"
" Um ! -- You needn't ask. That gentleman is no bite , I can tell you; he's a Scotchman, an more than a match vor any Jew out o' Lunnun ."
"I know dat ; but tell, vhere dosh he live?"
"Go ask himself," said the landlord in a surly tone, as he turned away. "I like none of you Jews, I promise thee : I have lost money to your brethren myself, ere now."
" Stay a bit!" cried the stranger, seizing him by the arm; "maybe I could say something in your ear would made you like me betters ."
"I defy thee !" cried the landlord; "I know your tribe too well."
"Maybe you know myself ?"
"Know thee !"
The stranger gazed full in his face for some moments, and then stooping over his shoulder. whispered him in the ear. The words seemed to operate like a charm on the mind of the listener; he started back and gazed on the speaker with the liveliest expression of astonishment and pleasure.
"What! thee !" he said, -- " thee here in Taunton! Bee'st thee not afeard ? Hast thee vorgot so soon the land of Cock-an- Mwile ?"*
" Hisht , hisht ! I have now no time to answer questions. The times are changing fast, and thou shalt see it ere long, I promise thee : in a few days thou shalt know more. And now thou wilt give me the information I sought?"
The landlord complied, and the stranger, after laying the top of his staff against his lips in sign of secrecy, took his departure from the inn.
* Gaol

" Well ," exclaimed the landlord after he had a little recovered from his surprise, "there be some folks make no more of a halter than if it were a French cambric neckcloth. A change in the times, quoth-a ? It will be a change indeed, when the very bell-wether of all the rantypole Petitioners in Zummerzet can walk the streets o' Taunton at noonday in the sight of the king's dragoons. Well , there are zome folks that are gallas -mad: they hover about it as naatal as if they wor goin a sweetortin . If there bean't a match o' the kind in Taunton avore long, it won't be the fault of a body that I could name."

On turning, they observed a strange figure, which had passed the gate and was approaching the cottage. It was that of a Jew, well-favoured and of middle age, and with a beard and hair as black as coal.
" Mine goot ladish ," he said, taking off his hat with great respect, and bowing very low, " ish it Tone Cottage?" Ish Mashter Gaspar Fullarton's?"
Aquila answered in the affirmative.
"Here ish den ," said the stranger, taking a packet from his bosom, " lettersh , mine fair shweet young lady, from Mashter Sidney Fullarton, -- look you , for Mashter Gaspar his broder ."
"Come in -- come in," said Aquila eagerly, "and you shall see my father."
" Nay , I thank you, mine goot young lady, I have not times; but if you have lettersh for Mashter Sidney Fullarton, or persons, let them be at Lyme on the sea-coast at the full of the moon, and he shall find one ready to convey them."