I advise you, therefore, not to tamper with your own conscience, nor, by concealing your knowledge of this great crime to peril your hopes of eternal happiness.

Of one thing you may rest assured, that the justice we seek will not stoop to those who have been merely instruments in the hands of others." "That's all very fine talk," replied Dunphy, uneasily however, "and from the high-flown language you give me, I take you to be a lawyer; but if you were ten times a lawyer, and a judge to the back of that, a man can't tell what he doesn't know." "Mark me," replied the stranger, assailing him through his cupidity, "I pledge you my solemn word that for any available information you may or can give us you shall be most liberally and amply remunerated." "I have money enough," replied Dunphy; "that is to say, as much as barely does me, for the wealthiest of us cannot bring it to the grave.
I'm thankful to you, but I can give you no assistance." "Whom do you suspect, then ?--whom do you even suspect ?" "Hut!--why, the man that every one suspects--Sir Thomas Gourlay." "And upon what grounds, may I ask ?" "Why, simply because no other man had any interest in getting the child removed.

Every one knows he's a dark, tyrannical, bad man, that wouldn't be apt to scruple at anything.

There now," he added, "that is all I know about it; and I suppose it's not more than you knew yourself before." In order to close the dialogue he stood up, and at once led the way down to the back parlor, where the stranger, on following him, found Ginty Cooper and the old woman in close conversation, which instantly ceased when they made their appearance.
The stranger, chagrined and vexed at his want of success, was about to depart, when Dunphy's wife said: "Maybe, sir, you'd wish to get your fortune tould?
bekaise, if you would, here's a woman that will tell it to you, and you may depend upon it she'll tell you nothing but the truth." "I am not in a humor for such nonsense, my good woman; I have much more important matters to think of, I assure you; but I suppose the woman wishes to have her hand crossed with silver; well, it shall be done.
Here, my good woman," he said offering her money, "accept this, and spare your prophecy." "I will not have your money, sir," replied the prophetess; "and I say so to let you know that I'm not an impostor.

Be advised, and hear me--show me your hand." The startling and almost supernatural appearance of the woman struck him very forcibly, and with a kind of good-humored impatience, he stretched out his hand to her.