Large Cat—And the Coach
Chapter XXXVIII. Strange Guests at the Manor
Chapter XXXIX. The Bargain, and the New Confederates
Chapter XL. Dreams—First Impressions—The Man in the Plum-Coloured Suit
Chapter XLI. Of O'Connor and a Certain Travelling Ecclesiastic—And How the Darkness Overtook Them
Chapter XLIII. The Wild Wood—The Old Mansion-House of Finiskea—Secrets, and a Surprise
Chapter XLV. The Man in the Cloak—And His Bed-Chamber
Chapter XLVI. The Double Conference—Old Papers
Chapter XLVII. "the Jolly Bowlers"—The Double Fray and the Flight
Chapter XLVIII. The Stained Ruffles
Chapter XLIX. Old Songs—The Unwelcome Listener—The Baronet's Pledge
Chapter L. The Press in the Wall
Chapter LIII. The Double Farewell
Chapter LIV. The Two Chances—The Bribed Courier
Chapter LV. The Fearful Visitant
Chapter LVII. The Chaplain's Arrival at Morley Court—The Key—And the Booze in the Boudoir
Chapter LX. The Untreasured Chamber
Chapter LXI. The Cart and the Straw
Chapter LXII. The Council—Showing What Advice Mr. Audley Gave, and How It Was Taken
Chapter LXIII. Parting—The Sheltered Village, and the Journey's End
Chapter LXIV. Mistress Martha and Black M'Guinness
Chapter LXIX. The Bolted Window
Chapter LXX. The Baronet's Room
Chapter LXXII. The Rope and the Riot in Gallows Green—And the Woods of Ardgillagh by Moonlight
Chapter I.
The "Cock and Anchor"—Two Horsemen—And a Supper by the Inn Fire
Some time within the first ten years of the last century, there stood in the fair city of Dublin, and in one of those sinuous and narrow streets which lay in the immediate vicinity of the Castle, a goodly and capacious hostelry, snug and sound, and withal carrying in its aspect something staid and aristocratic, and perhaps in nowise the less comfortable that it was rated, in point of fashion, somewhat obsolete. Its structure was quaint and antique; so much so, that had its counterpart presented itself within the precincts of "the Borough," it might fairly have passed itself off for the genuine old Tabard of Geoffry Chaucer.
The front of the building, facing the street, rested upon a row of massive wooden blocks, set endwise, at intervals of some six or eight feet, and running parallel at about the same distance, to the wall of the lower story of the house, thus forming a kind of rude cloister or open corridor, running the whole length of the building.
The spaces between these rude pillars were, by a light frame-work of timber, converted into a succession of arches; and by an application of the same ornamental process, the ceiling of this extended porch was made to carry a clumsy but not unpicturesque imitation of groining. Upon this open-work of timber, as we have already said, rested the second story of the building; protruding beyond which again, and supported upon beams whose projecting ends were carved into the semblance of heads hideous as the fantastic monsters of heraldry, arose the third story, presenting a series of tall and fancifully-shaped gables, decorated, like the rest of the building, with an abundance of grotesque timber-work. A wide passage, opening under the corridor which we have described, gave admission into the inn-yard, surrounded partly by the building itself, and partly by the stables and other offices connected with it. Viewed from a little distance, the old fabric presented by no means an unsightly or ungraceful aspect: on the contrary, its very irregularities