"oh how sweet that dear little brogue sounds in my Irish ears," cried one of the party; "we are most of us your Lordship's countrymen, and would all have been murdered, do you see, before your grandson should have come to any harm. To be sure, it was an Irish lad gave him those ugly thumps upon his face; but we have done for the spalpeen ; he won't be after kidnapping another great man in a hurry! The devil burn me if he ought not to have been roasted by the fire we made of his goods."

"Come along then, dame ," cried the old man, bustling forward, and getting in first himself; then calling out, "Tip us your daddle!" he presented his hand to his wife. [some narrative omitted]
" Coachy , I suppose you sort of chaps know the way by night as well as by day in this confused great town? But hark ye me , and be sure you take the nearest way; do you mind , we live at my cousin Barrett's that keeps the great oil shop upon Holborn Hill, number two hunderd and---- rot me if I can remember what, but it is next door to----" [some narrative omitted]
"A gentleman farmer, mayhap ," rejoined the old man; "but I don't wish to be inquisitive."
"Exactly so," replied Henry.
"Well, and no offence to you, Sir; I should prefer a farmer's to a soldier's life. However, I shall be very glad to see either or both of you at Great Yarmouth, in Norfolk; I will give you a bit of good mutton, a well-aired bed, a bottle of good old port, and a hearty welcome into the bargain."

"Well, more's the pity, say I," cried the old man; " but hark ye me , before we part, you shall both of you promise to dine or sup with with us while we stay in London; and we return to Yarmouth next week."
"I wish the gentlemen could make it convenient to come to-night, lovee ," cried his wife. [some narrative omitted]
"Well, we sup at nine, gentleman, and the sooner you come, the better we shall be pleased."

[Letter from Hawkins to Lord Delmont]
My Lord,
Though I am but a sorry hand at inditing, notwithstanding I writes a very plain good hand, which makes me not over fond of doing business by letter, I take the liberty of sending you these lines, with mine, and my wife's, and Sally's humble duty. No tidings can we gain of Polly; but that is neither here nor there. We are in duty bound to thank your Lordship, who might have law for nothing, seeing as how your own father is a lawyer, for sparing me and mine from an expensive suit. God knows , I have reason enough to dread attornies' bills. I paid a swinging one ( more's the pity) no such long time agone . I forgot to ask where t'other young gentleman lived; so hope your Lordship, out of your great goodness, will please to tell him how sorry my wife and self are, and how ready we are to ask his sister's pardon. I suppose his name being Brown, and her's being White, she is not his own sister; but I don't mean to be curious; it don't concern me, as your Lordship knows without my telling you. I also hope Mr. James was satisfied with my promise to send him a barrel of herrings, which I would double rather than go to law: I was always a man of my word in matters of business. But what I chiefly put pen to paper for was, after offering my duty and so forth to your Lordship, to inform you I intend to take my wife and remaining daughter out of this wicked town this very night. I mean no offence in what I says about London; but your Lordship knows I have met with crosses and mishaps enough, since I comed here, to have turned a wiser body's brain; but not to trouble you to read a longer letter, I shall once more in all our names, not forgetting cousin Barrett, humbly entreat you to pardon the past. So no more at present from your Lordship's dutiful humble servants to command,
Joseph Hawkins,

"He," continued the gossip, " as comes here so often to visit the forin lady: I supposes 'tis a Doctor, for poor young thing! she bees just at the down-lying . See, Miss, there's his horse fastened to rail of the little court."

"But, my dear Sir," interrupted Mrs. Powis, "you must confess that there is at least ample field for ridicule in their horrid, uncouth mode of speaking the barbarous names they give places, the prejudices, and national pride of the Irish."
"I am sorry, my dear Emily," returned Lord Somerset, "to see you so little understand the terms you have made use of, English as they are, as I think otherwise you would not lay yourself so entirely open to the retort courteous. In regard to the Irish accent, which I acknowledge I have scarcely met any persons of that country entirely free from, you must permit me to say I think it infinitely preferable to the provincial jargon of many English counties; because the language is always good, though the pronunciation may be faulty. As for the barbarous names you mention, for Heaven's sake, recollect those of Cornwall, which is, in fact, your native country. "
The Peer paused; but his niece remaining silent, he added--
"I confess I have no patience with the arrogant absurdity one so often meets with in Novels, where the author criticizes and ridicules the language of the Irish, in a broad Yorkshire, or West country dialect."
"Yet, notwithstanding all you have said, my dear uncle," resumed the fair widow, "I cannot believe but there must be much more truth than you are willing to allow in this satire on the Irish; else would you see so many of that country, as you may do daily, evidently ashamed of having been born on the other side of the Channel?"
"What you now mention," said his Lordship, "has long struck me as being a very great absurdity, totally unworthy of the understanding of many persons who one sees cherish it; and it certainly gives infinite force to those illiberal sarcasms, that would else only excite the contemptuous smile, and be forgotten. The Irish are also apt to run into a contrary extreme, in being vain of the title of Hibernians; and I have more than once met with Irish persons in England, whose manners, and still more their accent, were in the style of the most vulgar Milesian's, whom I have afterwards seen in the polite circles of Dublin, and who would there have blushed at the very idea of making use of an Hibernianism.

" Aboot three moiles an end ," answered the man in his Yorkshire dialect . "And is it," said I, "a ruin like this?" -- He answered that it was deserted now of all of its inhabitants, because the family it had belonged to were all either dead, or gone "beyond sea." My curiosity being farther excited, I learned that the Abbey had been, to use my conductor's phrase, made into a house by a great rich family, "Romans, though, Romans;" which on being explained, I found meant that they were of the Roman Catholic religion . .

"And which, friend, is the way to the ancient house? Can I reach it by following the path I saw you in, that leads through the woods?"
"Why, you would not go there?"
"Not go there? Why should I not?"
"And to-night?"
"Aye, to-night, or any other night, why not?"
" There's noot to be found there, I'll promise you," said the man, who seemed to shudder at the temerity of my design, while he doubted its motives. "No, no, there's nothing to be found there; the Priests took care of that. -- Some old rubbishy things, indeed, some folks do say , be yet in the old rambling rooms; but, for my part, I'se not go aboot amongst them, special of a night, if there was a bushel of gold to be got as my reward."
"But why not? Where is the danger?"
" Bless you , Master," cried the peasant, " it's easy to see you are but a stranger in this country, or you'd never ask such questions. Why, mon , the Abbey is haunted."

"Truly, young lady, it is a grievous office for me and good Mr. Camus here - truly it is a grievous task - but it must be known, Sir Mordaunt is -"
"Is dead," interrupted Edourda. -- "Is my father dead?" -- "No, Miss, not dead: his honour is living, though in a poorish state of health; but we have had the misfortune, which you don't seem to know -- the misfortune to lose -- to lose --"
"Oh! keep me not in suspense," cried the trembling girl, "tell me what has happened."
"Why, we have had the great sorrow to lose our fine young master, Mr. Falconberg: he died beyond sea, where he went for his health, and was brought here to be buried about two months ago."
Edourda had now power to interrupt her informer, who proceeded.
" Sir Mordaunt, Miss, have never held up his head since: and because that one day when Mr. Camus here spoke to his honour - didn't you, Mr. Camus? -- saying how he hoped as he would be comforted, and such like, seeing as how we must all die and that, and hoping he would send for you, Ma'am, as his only child, to keep him company, and make up for his loss -- Sir Mordaunt was in a perilous passion, and bade him, as he valued his place, never mention nothing of that there sort again: didn't he say so, Mr. Camus?"

"So," added the housekeeper, with even less apparent sympathy than had been shewn by the steward; "so you see, Miss, we be in consequence thereof very much at a nonplush how to act; your ladyship's coming all at once of a sudden so, puts us quite into a quandary; and if so be as we take you in , and Sir Mordaunt should discover that we have done so without his orders, why it's very like , I'll assure you, that we shall all lose our places."