Commodore," that the rightful heir of Court Fitzadelm would act, did he behold this place as we now see it."

No," replied De Vere, flinging away together the rose and the nightshade." It is probable that the representative of the Fitzadelm family (for the unfortunate and insane Marquis of Dunore cannot be deemed such) would look upon this ancient seat of his ancestors, as I now view it, with a new feeling of contempt for the species to which he belongs; and with as little interest for the posterity that is to follow, as to the ancestry that preceded him, he would put it up to the hammer, and fly to enjoy its price in happier regions and more genial climes."

"He would, on the contrary, perhaps," said the Commodore, with a vehemence tinctured with irrepressible indignation, " endeavour to redeem the folly and negligence of his ancestors, wrest his paternal demesne from the

grasp of fraud, or re-purchase it from the gripe of sordidness; he would then raise its fallen towers, reclaim its neglected soil, cherish the miserable population, and expiate the violence and rapacity by which his distant forefathers obtained this still beautiful territory, by a constant and beneficial residence in the land whence he draws his support and existence."

"You know but little of Calista," replied De Vere, smiling significantlyyou know but little of Lord Adelm Fitzadelm."

"Who is he?" asked the Commodore, quickly.

Why, the only brother of the present Marquis of Dunore,heir presumptive of his title and possessions: not to know him would argue yourself unknown."

"Oh true," said the Commodore, with the tone of sudden recollection, "I have heard of such a person."

“I suppose so,” was the dry reply.

Owny now joined them with the information that the house was to be seen, and that it was inhabited by an old housekeeper, a follower of the Crawley family, nick-named Protestant Moll, the divil's own saint,' one he had often heard of, but never seen, and so called in regard of her having once been a great Papist and a Voteen,* and having afterwards become a hedger, (that's a turn-coat), and was made a kiln-dried Protestant, by Miss Crawley, a great preacher, and sister to the Portrieve of Dunore, Torney Crawley, Esq. a raal slave driver, that had many a poor man's sowl to answer for. While he spoke, he was vainly applying a stone to the folding doors of the great entrance (for the knocker was off), and at last went round to the rear of the building, in search of a more easy ingress. In a few minutes his head appeared through one of the front windows; and assuring the gentlemen he

* Devotee.

scene.

would be down in a crack, and open the hall door for them, he indulged himself in a momentary view of the surrounding He soon, however, descended, and was heard unbarring the longclosed portals, which slowly opened to admit the strangers. A most capacious hall of black marble discovered on either side several doors, half pannelled ; a superb, but dismantled staircase, in the centre, branched off into a corridor, which surrounded the hall, and appeared to lead to different apartments. The rafters had in many places fallen in; and the plaister of the still crumbling ceiling lay in heaps upon the floor.

This ruinous and melancholy appearance gave peculiar force to a motto in gold letters over the folding doors of a private theatre, which opened into the left side of the hall. The motto was

"Laugh while we can."

Laugh while we can!" repeated the Commodore, with a shrug, that was almost a shudder.

Oh, its delicious," observed De Vere, ironically, "a thing to moralize a song withall."

66

Why then, its little of it them gets now that put it up there, why! that's now, God help them, in a place where there's no laughing, but weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth."

The strangers turned round at this unexpected address, but not unknown accent, and beheld Mrs. Magillicuddy close behind them.

"This is the housekeeper, who will shew your honors the place," said Owny, and then retired to look after his horses. De Vere drew back many paces from the frightful phantom of his imagination. The Commodore stood surprised, and something amused at the effect which this sudden apparition produced on his companion. Mrs. Magillicuddy, whose face was partly wrapped up in a worsted stocking, and who was endeavouring to keep a brown paper