I got a letter, however, from an amiable Roman Catholic clergyman, the parish priest of Ballytrain, to a man named Dunphy, who lives in a street called Constitution Hill, on the north side of the city." "He is a relation, I understand, of Edward Corbet, who died in my service," replied her ladyship, with an interest that seemed instantly to awaken her.

"Well," said she, eagerly, "what was the result?
Did you present the letter ?" "I presented the letter, my lady; and had at first strong hopes--no, not at first--but in the course of our conversation.

He dropped unconscious hints that induce me to suspect he knows more about the fate of your son than he wishes to acknowledge.

It struck me that he might have been an agent in this black business, and, on that account, that he is afraid to criminate himself.

I have, besides," he added, smilingly, "had the gratification to have heard a prophecy uttered, by which I was assured of ultimate success in my efforts to trace out your son;--a prophecy uttered under and accompanied by circumstances so extraordinary and incomprehensible as to confound and amaze me." He then detailed to her the conversation he had had with old Dunphy and the fortune-teller, suppressing all allusion to what tha latter had said concerning Lucy and himself.