The scoundrel like Whitecraft!--eh-what am I saying?
Smellpriest, I say, first began his career as a friend to the Papists; he took large tracts of land in their name, and even purchased a couple of estates with their money; and in due time, according as the tide continued to get strong against them, he thought the best plan to cover his villany--ahem--his policy, I mean--was to come out as a fierce loyalist; and as a mark of his repentance, he claimed the property, as the real purchaser, and arrested those who were fools enough to trust him." "I think I know another gentleman of my acquaintance who holds property in some similar trust for Papists," observed Helen, "but who certainly is incapable of imitating the villany of that most unprincipled man." "Come, come, Helen; come, my girl; tut--ahem; come, you are getting into politics now, and that will never do.

A girl like you ought to have nothing to do with politics or religion." "Religion! papa." "Oh--hem-I don't mean exactly that.

Oh, no; I except religion; a girl may be as religious as she pleases, only she must say as little upon the subject as possible.

Come, another cup of tea, with a little more sugar, for, I give you my honor, you did not make the last one of the sweetest;" and so saying, he put over his cup with a grimace, which resembled that of a man detected in a bad action, instead of a good one.
At this moment John, the butler, came in with a plate of hot toast; and, as he was a privileged old man, he addressed his master without much hesitation.
"That was a quare business," he observed, using the word quare as an equivocal one, until he should see what views of the circumstance his master might take; "a quare business, sir, that happened to Mr.Reilly." "What business do you allude to, you old sinner ?" "The burning of his house and place, sir.

All he has, or had, is in a heap of ashes." Helen felt not for the burning, but her eyes were fixed upon the features of the old man, as if the doom of her life depended on his words; whilst the paper on which ee write is not whiter than were her cheeks.
"What--what--how was it ?" asked his master; "who did it ?--and by whose authority was it done ?" "Sir Robert Whitecraft and his men did it, sir." "Ay, but I can't conceive he had any authority for such an act." "Wasn't Mr.Reilly an outlaw, sir?
Didn't the Red Rapparee, who is now a good Protestant, swear insurrection against him ?" "The red devil, sirra," replied the old squire, forgetting his animosity to Reilly in the atrocity and oppression of the deed--"the red devil, sirra! would that justify such a cowardly scoundrel as Sir Robert--ugh--ugh--ugh--that went against my breath, Helen.