that she had lost her road. In the greatest agitation and distress, she now wandered to and fro, whilst her embarrassment was increased every moment by the ill-timed raillery of the passers by. At last, she became quite surrounded by a group of people, who assailed her with so many questions and jokes, that the poor girl, quite overpowered, stopped short, and burst into tears.
"Och! and what are ye about to be after disturbing a poor young cratur like that," cried the well-known voice of Father Murphy, as the friar's portly figure was seen bustling through the mob. "What are ye after there? Don't you see the poor thing has lost her way in the darkness; and if ye bother her so, how d'ye think she'll ever be able to find it?"
Never did any music sound so harmoniously in Clara's ears, as the father's rich deep brogue; and darting forwards she threw herself at his feet, and, clasping her arms round his knees, she exclaimed—"Oh! save me! I am Clara! Clara Montagu!"
"Clara!" cried Father Murphy, in the ut-
