Among the
group, Larry recognised his old master, by the same means that Ulysses,
Aeneas, and others, recognised the bodiless forms of their friends in the
regions of Acheron. "What brings a living person," said the man in black,
"on this pathway? I shall make legal capture of you, Larry Sweeney, for
trespassing. You have no business here." "I have come," said Larry,
plucking up courage, "to bring your honour's glory a letter from a
company of gintlemin with whom I had the pleasure of spending the evening,
underneath the ould church of Inistubber." "A letter," said the man in
black, "where is it?" "Here, my lord," said Larry. "Ho!" cried the black
gentleman, on opening it, "I know the handwriting. It won't do, however,
my lad,--I see they want to throw dust in my eyes." "Whew," thought Larry,
"that's the very thing. 'Tis for that the ould Dublin boy gave me the box.
I'd lay a tinpenny to a brass farthing that it's filled with Lundy Foot."
Opening the box, therefore, he flung its contents right into the fiery
eyes of the man in black, while he was still occupied with reading the
letter,--and the experiment was successful.
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