An old gray-haired butler, well-powdered, together with two or three other servants in rich livery, now entered, and the squire's first inquiry was after his daughter.
"John," said he to the butler, "how is your mistress ?" but, without waiting for a reply, he added, "here are twenty pounds, which you will hand to those fine fellows at the hall-door." "Pardon me, sir," replied Reilly, "those men are my tenants, and the sons of my tenants: they have only performed towards you a duty, which common humanity would require at their hands towards the humblest person that lives." "They must accept it, Mr.Reilly--they must have it--they are humble men--and as it is only the reward of a kind office, I think it is justly due to them.

Here, John, give them the money." It was in vain that Reilly interposed; the old squire would not listen to him.

John was, accordingly, dispatched to the hall steps, but found that they had all gone.
At this moment our friend Toni Steeple met the butler, whom he approached with a kind of wild and uncouth anxiety.
"Aha! Mista John," said he, "you tall man too, but not tall as Tom Steeple--ha, ha--you good man too, Mista John--give Tom bully dinners--Willy Reilly, Mista John, want to see Willy Reilly." "What do you want with him, Tom?
he's engaged with the master." "Must see him, Mista John; stitch in time saves nine.

Hicko! hicko! God's sake, Mista John: God's sake! Up dere;" and as he spoke he pointed towards the sky.
"Well, but what is your business, then?
What have you to say to him?
He's engaged, I tell you." Tom, apprehensive that he might not get an opportunity of communicating with Reilly, bolted in, and as the parlor door stood open, he saw him standing near the large chimney-piece.
"Willy Reilly!" he exclaimed in a voice that trembled with earnestness, "Willy Reilly, dere's news for you--for de squire too--bad news--God's sake come wid Tom--you tall too, Willy Reilly, but not tall as Tom is." "What is the matter, Tom ?" asked Reilly; "you look alarmed." "God's sake, here, Willy Reilly," replied the kind-hearted fool, "come wid Tom.

Bad news." "Hallo!" exclaimed the squire, "what is the matter?
Is this Tom Steeple?
Go to the kitchen, Tom, and get one of your 'bully dinners'-- my poor fellow--off with you--and a pot of beer, Tom." An expression of distress, probably heightened by his vague and unconscious sense of the squire's kindness, was depicted strongly on his countenance, and ended in a burst of tears.
"Ha!" exclaimed Reilly, "poor Tom, sir, was with us to-night on our duck-shooting excursion, and, now that I remember, remained behind us in the old ruin--and then he is in tears.