All were asleep at the cottage, when lord Colambre arrived, except the widow, who was sitting up, waiting for him; and who had brought her dog into the house, that he might not fly at him, or bark at his return. She had a roast chicken ready for her guest, and it was - but this she never told him -the only chicken she had left; all the others had been sent with the duty fowl, 126as a present to the under agent’s lady. While he was eating his supper, which he eat with the better appetite, as he had had no dinner, the good woman took down from the shelf a pocket-book, which she gave him: ‘Is not that your book?’ said she. ‘My boy Brian found it after you in the potatoe furrow, where you dropped it.’