“I know all that,” said the cat, as he leaped up the chimney, on his departure to the scene of his midnight wanderings. “Good night, Larry, and don’t forget your engagement;” and he disappeared through the gathering gloom, to the great relief of poor Larry and his terrified family.
That was a sad and uneasy night with poor Larry and his wife and children. They did not go to bed at all, but sat trembling at the fire, expecting every moment that the black imp would return with legions of fiends to carry them away, body and bones, to the regions below. Numerous were the plans proposed for getting rid of their old companion, but all were rejected—some as inefficient, others as impracticable; and the only point on which they could finally agree, was, that their days were numbered, and that perhaps before morning their blood would be streaming on the hearth-stone, and their souls wandering through mire and morass, the prey of troops of fiends.
At last the morning dawned, and as Larry disconsolately enough was preparing to set forward on his journey to Mill-street, the cat jumped down the chimney, and took his usual place on the hob.
“Well, I am going now,” said Larry; “have you any directions to give about the brogues?”
The cat did not reply, but uttered a hideous growl, which fell heavily on the poor fellow’s heart; so kissing his wife and children, and commending them to the protection of God, he set out on his sorrowful journey.
He had not gone far when he perceived through the dim grey of the morning a human figure approaching; and on advancing a little nearer, he found that it was a very old man, of extremely diminutive stature and forbidding aspect. He wore an old grey coat and an equally old woollen cap, and his thin white hair descended to his knees; he was barefoot, and carried a walking-stick in his hand.
“Good morrow, and God save you, Larry Roche,” said the old man as he came up.
“A bright morning to you,” answered Larry.
“How is every rope’s length of you, Larry, and how is the woman and the childre at home?” demanded the stranger.
“Faix, purty well, considherin,” replied Larry. “But you have a great advantage of me.”