He instantly took his seat for Dublin--an inside seat--in order to conceal himself as much as possible from observation.
Having arranged this affair, he rode home in high spirits, and made preparations for starting, in due time, by "the Flash of Lightning." The stranger, on his way to Father M'Mahon's, called upon his friend Birney, with whom he had a long confidential conversation.

They had already determined, if the unfortunate heir of Red Hall could be traced, and if his disappearance could, be brought home to the baronet, to take such public or rather legal proceedings as they might be advised to by competent professional advice.

Our readers may already guess, however, that the stranger was influenced by motives sufficiently strong and decisive to prevent him, above all men, from appearing, publicly or at all, in any proceedings that might be taken against the baronet.
On arriving at Father M'Mahon's, he found that excellent man at home; and it was upon this occasion that he observed with more attention than before the extraordinary neatness of his dwelling-house and premises.
The cleanliness, the order, the whiteness, the striking taste displayed, the variety of culinary utensils, not in themselves expensive, but arranged with surprising regularity, constituting a little paradise of convenience and comfort, were all perfectly delightful to contemplate.
The hall-door was open, and when the stranger entered, he found no one in the kitchen, for it is necessary to say here that, in this neat but unassuming abode of benevolence and goodness, that which we have termed the hall-door led, in the first instance, to the beautiful little kitchen we have just described.

The stranger, having heard voices in conversation with the priest, resolved to wait a little until his visitors should leave him, as he felt reluctant to intrude upon him while engaged with his parishioners.

He could not prevent himself, however, from overhearing the following portion of their I conversation.
"And it was yesterday he put in the distraint ?" "It was, your reverence." "Oh, the dirty Turk; not a landlord at all is half so hard to ourselves as those of our own religion: they'll show some lenity to a Protestant, and I don't blame them for that, but they trample those belonging to their own creed under their inhuman hoofs." "How much is it, Nogher ?" "Only nine pounds, your reverence." "Well, then, bring me a stamp in the course of the day, and I'll pass my bill to him for the amount." "Troth, sir, wid great respect, your reverence will do no such thing.
However I may get it settled, I won't lug you in by the head and shoulders.