“Aren't you the sheriff, sir, that was robbed some time ago?”
“I am.”
“Ah, sir, I see you are dressed in black; and I heard of the death of the misthress, sir.”
“Well, but what has that to do with what you have just now said—that you would make it worth my while if I gave you alms?”
“I said so, sir; and I can, if you will be guided by me.”
“Speak out; I don't understand you.”
“Would you like to see the man that robbed you, sir, and would you know him if you did see him?”
“Unquestionably I would know him. They say it was Reilly, but I have seen Reilly since; and although the dress was the same which Reilly usually wears, yet the faces were different.”
“Is your honor going far?” asked Fergus.
“No, I am going over to that farm-house, Tom Brady's; two or three of his family are ill of fever, and I wish to do something for him; I am about to make him my land bailiff.”