{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_68966/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_68966","id":"gutenberg_68966","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68966","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Novels","Ireland -- Social conditions -- Fiction","Love stories"],"text":"Transcriber\u2019s Notes\n\nObvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations\nin hyphenation and accents have been standardised but all other\nspelling and punctuation remains unchanged.\n\nKnock-na-callte-cr\u014din-\u014dir appears with six different spellings.\nKnock-na-callte-\u014dir\nKnockcalltecrore\nKnockcalltore\nKnockalltecrore\nKnockaltecrore\n\nItalics are represented thus _italic_.\n\n\n\n\n                           THE SNAKE\u2019S PASS.\n\n\n\n\n                _Quarto, cloth, gilt edges, price 6s._\n\n                         _BY THE SAME AUTHOR._\n\n                           UNDER THE SUNSET.\n\n                      Some Opinions of the Press.\n\n\n\u201c... This particularly is a book which all clever and imaginative\nchildren should read.... The stories all paint a grand moral, are\ndeeply pathetic, and of absorbing interest.\u201d\u2014_The World._\n\n\u201c....A charming book....\u201d\u2014_Punch._\n\n\u201c....This collection of delicate and forcible allegories.\u201d\u2014_Daily\nTelegraph._\n\n\u201c....The style of the book is characterized throughout by remarkable\npurity and grace.\u201d\u2014_The Daily News._\n\n\u201c....A really beautiful book, which may be enjoyed, not only by\nchildren, but by their elders.\u201d\u2014_Morning Post._\n\n\u201c....The tales are in the best style of imaginative narrative,\nwith charming little touches of nature and reference to every-day\nthings.\u201d\u2014_The Spectator._\n\n\u201c....The book is pervaded by a dreamy beauty of style, which cannot\nfail to be fascinating.\u201d\u2014_The Echo._\n\n\u201c....A mystical, supernatural tale, told as it should be told,\nhovering airily and luminously in a medium half imaginative, half\nethical....\u201d\u2014_Liverpool Daily Post._\n\n\u201c....It ought to be in the book-case of every pastor, Christian,\nteacher, and scholar in the kingdom....\u201d\u2014_Elgin Courant._\n\n\u201c....The tales one and all captivate the young intellect by the charm\nof innocence and freshness they possess....\u201d\u2014_Dublin Freeman\u2019s Journal._\n\n\u201c....We have rarely met a more delightful or more thoroughly wholesome\nbook to place in the hands of children....\u201d\u2014_Cork Constitution._\n\n\u201c....The thoughts of the book are high and pure, and the scenery of it\nis finely coloured and attractive....\u201d\u2014_New York Tribune._\n\n\u201cA charming book, full of ingenious, refined, and poetical fancy.\u201d\u2014_The\nAustralasian._\n\n\n\n\n                           THE SNAKE\u2019S PASS\n\n\n                                  BY\n\n                           BRAM STOKER, M.A.\n\n                            [Colophon]\n\n                                LONDON:\n            SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE & RIVINGTON, LTD.\n                         St. Dunstan\u2019s House,\n                      FETTER LANE, FLEET STREET.\n                                 1891.\n\n                        _All rights reserved._\n\n\n         CHISWICK PRESS:\u2014C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT,\n                            CHANCERY LANE.\n\n\n\n\n                               CONTENTS.\n\n\n                                                             PAGE\nCHAPTER I. A SUDDEN STORM                                       1\n\n    II. THE LOST CROWN OF GOLD                                 15\n\n    III. THE GOMBEEN MAN                                       36\n\n    IV. THE SECRETS OF THE BOG                                 58\n\n    V. ON KNOCKNACAR                                           83\n\n    VI. CONFIDENCES                                           106\n\n    VII. VANISHED                                             126\n\n    VIII. A VISIT TO JOYCE                                    147\n\n    IX. MY NEW PROPERTY                                       160\n\n    X. IN THE CLIFF FIELDS                                    176\n\n    XI. UN MAUVAIS QUART D\u2019HEURE                              195\n\n    XII. BOG-FISHING AND SCHOOLING                            213\n\n    XIII. MURDOCK\u2019S WOOING                                    235\n\n    XIV. A TRIP TO PARIS                                      254\n\n    XV. A MIDNIGHT TREASURE HUNT                              278\n\n    XVI. A GRIM WARNING                                       297\n\n    XVII. THE CATASTROPHE                                     320\n\n    XVIII. THE FULFILMENT                                     344\n\n\n\n\n                           THE SNAKE\u2019S PASS.\n\n\n                              CHAPTER I.\n\n                            A SUDDEN STORM.\n\n\nBetween two great mountains of grey and green, as the rock cropped\nout between the tufts of emerald verdure, the valley, almost as\nnarrow as a gorge, ran due west towards the sea. There was just room\nfor the roadway, half cut in the rock, beside the narrow strip of\ndark lake of seemingly unfathomable depth that lay far below between\nperpendicular walls of frowning rock. As the valley opened, the land\ndipped steeply, and the lake became a foam-fringed torrent, widening\nout into pools and miniature lakes as it reached the lower ground.\nIn the wide terrace-like steps of the shelving mountain there were\noccasional glimpses of civilization emerging from the almost primal\ndesolation which immediately surrounded us\u2014clumps of trees, cottages,\nand the irregular outlines of stone-walled fields, with black stacks\nof turf for winter firing piled here and there. Far beyond was the\nsea\u2014the great Atlantic\u2014with a wildly irregular coast-line studded with\na myriad of clustering rocky islands. A sea of deep dark blue, with the\ndistant horizon tinged with a line of faint white light, and here and\nthere, where its margin was visible through the breaks in the rocky\ncoast, fringed with a line of foam as the waves broke on the rocks or\nswept in great rollers over the level expanse of sands.\n\nThe sky was a revelation to me, and seemed to almost obliterate\nmemories of beautiful skies, although I had just come from the south\nand had felt the intoxication of the Italian night, where in the deep\nblue sky the nightingale\u2019s note seems to hang as though its sound and\nthe colour were but different expressions of one common feeling.\n\nThe whole west was a gorgeous mass of violet and sulphur and gold\u2014great\nmasses of storm-cloud piling up and up till the very heavens seemed\nweighted with a burden too great to bear. Clouds of violet, whose\ncentres were almost black and whose outer edges were tinged with living\ngold; great streaks and piled up clouds of palest yellow deepening into\nsaffron and flame-colour which seemed to catch the coming sunset and to\nthrow its radiance back to the eastern sky.\n\nThe view was the most beautiful that I had ever seen, and, accustomed\nas I had been only to the quiet pastoral beauty of a grass country,\nwith occasional visits to my Great Aunt\u2019s well-wooded estate in the\nSouth of England, it was no wonder that it arrested my attention and\nabsorbed my imagination. Even my brief half-a-year\u2019s travel in Europe,\nnow just concluded, had shown me nothing of the same kind.\n\nEarth, sea and air all evidenced the triumph of nature, and told of her\nwild majesty and beauty. The air was still\u2014ominously still. So still\nwas all, that through the silence, that seemed to hedge us in with a\nsense of oppression, came the booming of the distant sea, as the great\nAtlantic swell broke in surf on the rocks or stormed the hollow caverns\nof the shore.\n\nEven Andy, the driver, was for the nonce awed into comparative silence.\nHitherto, for nearly forty miles of a drive, he had been giving me\nhis experiences\u2014propounding his views\u2014airing his opinions; in fact he\nhad been making me acquainted with his store of knowledge touching\nthe whole district and its people\u2014including their names, histories,\nromances, hopes and fears\u2014all that goes to make up the life and\ninterest of a country-side.\n\nNo barber\u2014taking this tradesman to illustrate the popular idea of\nloquacity _in excelsis_\u2014is more consistently talkative than an Irish\ncar-driver to whom has been granted the gift of speech. There is\nabsolutely no limit to his capability, for every change of surrounding\naffords a new theme and brings on the tapis a host of matters requiring\nto be set forth.\n\nI was rather glad of Andy\u2019s \u2018brilliant flash of silence\u2019 just at\npresent, for not only did I wish to drink in and absorb the grand and\nnovel beauty of the scene that opened out before me, but I wanted to\nunderstand as fully as I could some deep thought which it awoke within\nme. It may have been merely the grandeur and beauty of the scene\u2014or\nperhaps it was the thunder which filled the air that July evening\u2014but\nI felt exalted in a strange way, and impressed at the same time with a\nnew sense of the reality of things. It almost seemed as if through that\nopening valley, with the mighty Atlantic beyond and the piling up of\nthe storm-clouds overhead, I passed into a new and more real life.\n\nSomehow I had of late seemed to myself to be waking up. My foreign\ntour had been gradually dissipating my old sleepy ideas, or perhaps\novercoming the negative forces that had hitherto dominated my life; and\nnow this glorious burst of wild natural beauty\u2014the majesty of nature at\nits fullest\u2014seemed to have completed my awakening, and I felt as though\nI looked for the first time with open eyes on the beauty and reality of\nthe world.\n\nHitherto my life had been but an inert one, and I was younger in many\nways and more deficient in knowledge of the world in all ways than\nother young men of my own age. I had stepped but lately from boyhood,\nwith all boyhood\u2019s surroundings, into manhood, and as yet I was hardly\nat ease in my new position.\n\nFor the first time in my life I had had a holiday\u2014a real holiday, as\none can take it who can choose his own way of amusing himself.\n\nI had been brought up in an exceedingly quiet way with an old clergyman\nand his wife in the west of England, and except my fellow pupils,\nof whom there was never at any time more than one other, I had had\nlittle companionship. Altogether I knew very few people. I was the\nward of a Great Aunt, who was wealthy and eccentric and of a sternly\nuncompromising disposition. When my father and mother were lost at\nsea, leaving me, an only child, quite unprovided for, she undertook\nto pay for my schooling and to start me in a profession if I should\nshow sufficient aptitude for any. My father had been pretty well cut\noff by his family on account of his marriage with what they considered\nhis inferior, and times had been, I was always told, pretty hard for\nthem both. I was only a very small boy when they were lost in a fog\nwhen crossing the Channel; and the blank that their loss caused me\nmade me, I dare say, seem even a duller boy than I was. As I did not\nget into much trouble and did not exhibit any special restlessness\nof disposition, my Great Aunt took it, I suppose, for granted that I\nwas very well off where I was; and when, through growing years, the\nfiction of my being a schoolboy could be no longer supported, the old\nclergyman was called \u201cguardian\u201d instead of \u201ctutor,\u201d and I passed with\nhim the years that young men of the better class usually spend in\nCollege life. The nominal change of position made little difference to\nme, except that I was taught to ride and shoot, and was generally given\nthe rudiments of an education which was to fit me for being a country\ngentleman. I dare say that my tutor had some secret understanding with\nmy Great Aunt, but he never gave me any hint whatever of her feelings\ntowards me. A part of my holidays each year was spent in her place, a\nbeautiful country seat. Here I was always treated by the old lady with\nrigid severity but with the best of good manners, and by the servants\nwith affection as well as respect. There were a host of cousins, both\nmale and female, who came to the house; but I can honestly say that by\nnot one of them was I ever treated with cordiality. It may have been\nmy fault, or the misfortune of my shyness; but I never met one of them\nwithout being made to feel that I was an \u201coutsider.\u201d\n\nI can understand now the cause of this treatment as arising from their\nsuspicions when I remember that the old lady, who had been so severe\nwith me all my life, sent for me when she lay on her deathbed, and,\ntaking my hand in hers and holding it tight, said, between her gasps:\u2014\n\n\u201cArthur, I hope I have not done wrong, but I have reared you so that\nthe world may for you have good as well as bad\u2014happiness as well as\nunhappiness; that you may find many pleasures where you thought there\nwere but few. Your youth, I know, my dear boy, has not been a happy\none; but it was because I, who loved your dear father as if he had been\nmy own son\u2014and from whom I unhappily allowed myself to be estranged\nuntil it was too late\u2014wanted you to have a good and happy manhood.\u201d\n\nShe did not say any more, but closed her eyes and still held my hand.\nI feared to take it away lest I should disturb her; but presently the\nclasp seemed to relax, and I found that she was dead.\n\nI had never seen a dead person, much less anyone die, and the event\nmade a great impression on me. But youth is elastic, and the old lady\nhad never been much in my heart.\n\nWhen the will was read, it was found that I had been left heir to all\nher property, and that I would be called upon to take a place among the\nmagnates of the county. I could not fall at once into the position and,\nas I was of a shy nature, resolved to spend at least a few months in\ntravel. This I did, and when I had returned, after a six months\u2019 tour,\nI accepted the cordial invitation of some friends, made on my travels,\nto pay them a visit at their place in the County of Clare.\n\nAs my time was my own, and as I had a week or two to spare, I had\ndetermined to improve my knowledge of Irish affairs by making a detour\nthrough some of the counties in the west on my way to Clare.\n\nBy this time I was just beginning to realize that life has many\npleasures. Each day a new world of interest seemed to open before me.\nThe experiment of my Great Aunt might yet be crowned with success.\n\nAnd now the consciousness of the change in myself had come home to\nme\u2014come with the unexpected suddenness of the first streak of the dawn\nthrough the morning mists. The moment was to be to me a notable one;\nand as I wished to remember it to the full, I tried to take in all the\nscene where such a revelation first dawned upon me. I had fixed in my\nmind, as the central point for my memory to rest on, a promontory right\nunder the direct line of the sun, when I was interrupted by a remark\nmade, not to me but seemingly to the universe in general:\u2014\n\n\u201cMusha! but it\u2019s comin\u2019 quick.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is coming?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u201cThe shtorm! Don\u2019t ye see the way thim clouds is dhriftin\u2019? Faix! but\nit\u2019s fine times the ducks\u2019ll be afther havin\u2019 before many minutes is\npast.\u201d\n\nI did not heed his words much, for my thoughts were intent on the\nscene. We were rapidly descending the valley, and, as we got lower, the\npromontory seemed to take bolder shape, and was beginning to stand out\nas a round-topped hill of somewhat noble proportions.\n\n\u201cTell me, Andy,\u201d I said, \u201cwhat do they call the hill beyond?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe hill beyant there is it? Well, now, they call the place\nShleenanaher.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen that is Shleenanaher mountain?\u201d\n\n\u201cBegor it\u2019s not. The mountain is called Knockcalltecrore. It\u2019s Irish.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what does it mean?\u201d\n\n\u201cFaix, I believe it\u2019s a short name for the Hill iv the Lost Goolden\nCrown.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what is Shleenanaher, Andy?\u201d\n\n\u201cThroth, it\u2019s a bit iv a gap in the rocks beyant that they call\nShleenanaher.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what does that mean? It is Irish, I suppose?\u201d\n\n\u201cThrue for ye! Irish it is, an\u2019 it manes \u2018The Shnake\u2019s Pass.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed! And can you tell me why it is so called?\u201d\n\n\u201cBegor, there\u2019s a power iv raysons guv for callin\u2019 it that. Wait till\nwe get Jerry Scanlan or Bat Moynahan, beyant in Carnaclif! Sure they\nknows every laygend and shtory in the bar\u2019ny, an\u2019ll tell them all, av\nye like. Whew! Musha! here it comes.\u201d\n\nSurely enough it did come. The storm seemed to sweep through the valley\nin a single instant\u2014the stillness changed to a roar, the air became\ndark with the clouds of drifting rain. It was like the bursting of a\nwaterspout in volume, and came so quickly that I was drenched to the\nskin before I could throw my mackintosh round me. The mare seemed\nfrightened at first, but Andy held her in with a steady hand and with\ncomforting words, and after the first rush of the tempest she went on\nas calmly and steadily as hitherto, only shrinking a little at the\nlightning and the thunder.\n\nThe grandeur of that storm was something to remember. The lightning\ncame in brilliant sheets that seemed to cleave the sky, and threw weird\nlights amongst the hills, now strange with black sweeping shadows. The\nthunder broke with startling violence right over our heads, and flapped\nand buffeted from hillside to hillside, rolling and reverberating away\ninto the distance, its farther voices being lost in the crash of each\nsucceeding peal.\n\nOn we went, through the driving storm, faster and faster; but the storm\nabated not a jot. Andy was too much occupied with his work to speak,\nand as for me it took all my time to keep on the rocking and swaying\ncar, and to hold my hat and mackintosh so as to shield myself, as\nwell as I could, from the pelting storm. Andy seemed to be above all\nconsiderations of personal comfort. He turned up his coat collar, that\nwas all; and soon he was as shiny as my own waterproof rug. Indeed,\naltogether, he seemed quite as well off as I was, or even better,\nfor we were both as wet as we could be, and whilst I was painfully\nendeavouring to keep off the rain he was free from all responsibility\nand anxiety of endeavour whatever.\n\nAt length, as we entered on a long straight stretch of level road, he\nturned to me and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cYer \u2019an\u2019r it\u2019s no kind iv use dhrivin\u2019 like this all the way to\nCarnaclif. This shtorm\u2019ll go on for hours. I know thim well up in these\nmountains, wid\u2019 a nor\u2019-aist wind blowin\u2019. Wouldn\u2019t it be betther for us\nto get shelther for a bit?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course it would,\u201d said I. \u201cTry it at once! Where can you go?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere\u2019s a place nigh at hand, yer \u2019an\u2019r, the Widdy Kelligan\u2019s\nsheebeen, at the cross-roads of Glennashaughlin. It\u2019s quite contagious.\nGee-up! ye ould corncrake! hurry up to Widdy Kelligan\u2019s.\u201d\n\nIt seemed almost as if the mare understood him and shared his wishes,\nfor she started with increased speed down a laneway that opened out a\nlittle on our left. In a few minutes we reached the cross-roads, and\nalso the sheebeen of Widow Kelligan, a low whitewashed thatched house,\nin a deep hollow between high banks in the south-western corner of the\ncross. Andy jumped down and hurried to the door.\n\n\u201cHere\u2019s a sthrange gintleman, Widdy. Take care iv him,\u201d he called out,\nas I entered.\n\nBefore I had succeeded in closing the door behind me he was\nunharnessing the mare, preparatory to placing her in the lean-to\nstable, built behind the house against the high bank.\n\nAlready the storm seemed to have sent quite an assemblage to Mrs.\nKelligan\u2019s hospitable shelter. A great fire of turf roared up the\nchimney, and round it stood, and sat, and lay a steaming mass of nearly\na dozen people, men and women. The room was a large one, and the\ninglenook so roomy that nearly all those present found a place in it.\nThe roof was black, rafters and thatch alike; quite a number of cocks\nand hens found shelter in the rafters at the end of the room. Over the\nfire was a large pot, suspended on a wire, and there was a savoury and\ninexpressibly appetizing smell of marked volume throughout the room of\nroasted herrings and whisky punch.\n\nAs I came in all rose up, and I found myself placed in a warm seat\nclose to the fire, whilst various salutations of welcome buzzed all\naround me. The warmth was most grateful, and I was trying to convey my\nthanks for the shelter and the welcome, and feeling very awkward over\nit, when, with a \u201cGod save all here!\u201d Andy entered the room through the\nback door.\n\nHe was evidently a popular favourite, for there was a perfect rain of\nhearty expressions to him. He, too, was placed close to the fire, and a\nsteaming jorum of punch placed in his hands\u2014a similar one to that which\nhad been already placed in my own. Andy lost no time in sampling that\npunch. Neither did I; and I can honestly say that if he enjoyed his\nmore than I did mine he must have had a very happy few minutes. He lost\nno time in making himself and all the rest comfortable.\n\n\u201cHurroo!\u201d said he. \u201cMusha! but we\u2019re just in time. Mother, is the\nherrins done? Up with the creel, and turn out the pitaties; they\u2019re\ndone, or me senses desaves me. Yer \u2019an\u2019r, we\u2019re in the hoight iv good\nluck! Herrins, it is, and it might have been only pitaties an\u2019 point.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is that?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u201cOh, that is whin there is only wan herrin\u2019 amongst a crowd\u2014too little\nto give aich a taste, and so they put it in the middle and point the\npitaties at it to give them a flaviour.\u201d\n\nAll lent a hand with the preparation of supper. A great potato basket,\nwhich would hold some two hundredweight, was turned bottom up\u2014the pot\nwas taken off the fire, and the contents turned out on it in a great\nsteaming mass of potatoes. A handful of coarse salt was taken from a\nbox and put on one side of the basket, and another on the other side.\nThe herrings were cut in pieces, and a piece given to each.\u2014The dinner\nwas served.\n\nThere were no plates, no knives, forks or spoons\u2014no ceremony\u2014no\nprecedence\u2014nor was there any heartburning, jealousy or greed. A\nhappier meal I never took a part in\u2014nor did I ever enjoy food more.\nSuch as it was it was perfect. The potatoes were fine and cooked to\nperfection; we took them in our fingers, peeled them how we could,\ndipped them in the salt\u2014and ate till we were satisfied.\n\nDuring the meal several more strangers dropped in and all reported the\nstorm as showing no signs of abating. Indeed, little such assurance was\nwanting, for the fierce lash of the rain and the howling of the storm\nas it beat on the face of the house, told the tale well enough for the\nmeanest comprehension.\n\nWhen dinner was over and the basket removed, we drew around the fire\nagain\u2014pipes were lit\u2014a great steaming jug of punch made its appearance,\nand conversation became general. Of course, as a stranger, I came in\nfor a good share of attention.\n\nAndy helped to make things interesting for me, and his statement, made\nby my request, that I hoped to be allowed to provide the punch for the\nevening, even increased his popularity, whilst it established mine.\nAfter calling attention to several matters which evoked local stories\nand jokes and anecdotes, he remarked:\u2014\n\n\u201cHis \u2019an\u2019r was axin\u2019 me just afore the shtorm kem on as to why the\nShleenanaher was called so. I tould him that none could tell him like\nJerry Scanlan or Bat Moynahan, an\u2019 here is the both of them, sure\nenough. Now, boys, won\u2019t ye oblige the sthrange gintleman an tell him\nwhat yez know iv the shtories anent the hill?\u201d\n\n\u201cWid all the plisure in life,\u201d said Jerry Scanlan, a tall man of middle\nage, with a long, thin, clean shaven face, a humorous eye, and a shirt\ncollar whose points in front came up almost to his eyes, whilst the\nback part disappeared into the depths of his frieze coat collar behind.\n\n\u201cBegor yer \u2019an\u2019r I\u2019ll tell ye all I iver heerd. Sure there\u2019s a laygend,\nand there\u2019s a shtory\u2014musha! but there\u2019s a wheen o\u2019 both laygends and\nshtories\u2014but there\u2019s wan laygend beyant all\u2014Here! Mother Kelligan,\nfill up me glass, fur sorra one o\u2019 me is a good dhry shpaker\u2014Tell me,\nnow, sor, do they allow punch to the Mimbers iv Parlymint whin they\u2019re\nspakin\u2019?\u201d I shook my head.\n\n\u201cMusha! thin, but its meself they\u2019ll niver git as a mimber till they\nalther that law. Thank ye, Mrs. Kelligan, this is just my shtyle. But\nnow for the laygend that they tell of Shleenanaher:\u2014\u201d\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER II.\n\n                        THE LOST CROWN OF GOLD.\n\n\n\u201cWell, in the ould ancient times, before St. Patrick banished the\nshnakes from out iv Ireland, the hill beyant was a mighty important\nplace intirely. For more betoken, none other lived in it than the King\niv the Shnakes himself. In thim times there was up at the top iv the\nhill a wee bit iv a lake wid threes and sedges and the like growin\u2019\nround it; and \u2019twas there that the King iv the Shnakes made his nist\u2014or\nwhativer it is that shnakes calls their home. Glory be to God! but none\nof us knows anythin\u2019 of them at all, at all, since Saint Patrick tuk\nthem in hand.\u201d\n\nHere an old man in the chimney corner struck in:\u2014\n\n\u201cThrue for ye, Acushla; sure the bit lake is there still, though more\nbelike it\u2019s dhry now it is, and the threes is all gone.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d went on Jerry, not ill-pleased with this corroboration of his\nstory, \u201cthe King iv the Shnakes was mighty important intirely. He was\nmore nor tin times as big as any shnake as any man\u2019s eyes had iver saw;\nan\u2019 he had a goolden crown on to the top of his head, wid a big jool\nin it that tuk the colour iv the light, whether that same was from the\nsun or the moon; an\u2019 all the shnakes had to take it in turns to bring\nfood, and lave it for him in the cool iv the evenin\u2019, whin he would\ncome out and ate it up and go back to his own place. An\u2019 they do say\nthat whiniver two shnakes had a quarr\u2019ll they had to come to the King,\nan\u2019 he decided betune them; an\u2019 he tould aich iv them where he was to\nlive, and what he was to do. An\u2019 wanst in ivery year there had to be\nbrought to him a live baby; and they do say that he would wait until\nthe moon was at the full, an\u2019 thin would be heerd one wild wail that\nmade every sowl widin miles shuddher, an\u2019 thin there would be black\nsilence, and clouds would come over the moon, and for three days it\nwould never be seen agin.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Glory be to God!\u201d murmured one of the women, \u201cbut it was a\nterrible thing!\u201d and she rocked herself to and fro, moaning, all the\nmotherhood in her awake.\n\n\u201cBut did none of the min do nothin\u2019?\u201d said a powerful-looking young\nfellow in the orange and green jersey of the Gaelic Athletic Club, with\nhis eyes flashing; and he clenched his teeth.\n\n\u201cMusha! how could they? Sure, no man ever seen the King iv the Shnakes!\u201d\n\n\u201cThin how did they know about him?\u201d he queried doubtfully.\n\n\u201cSure, wasn\u2019t one of their childher tuk away iv\u2019ry year? But, anyhow,\nit\u2019s all over now! an\u2019 so it was that none iv the min iver wint. They\ndo say that one woman what lost her child, run up to the top of the\nhill; but what she seen, none could tell, for, whin they found her she\nwas a ravin\u2019 lunatic, wid white hair an eyes like a corpse\u2014an\u2019 the\nmornin\u2019 afther they found her dead in her bed wid a black mark round\nher neck as if she had been choked, an\u2019 the mark was in the shape iv a\nshnake. Well! there was much sorra and much fear, and whin St. Pathrick\ntuk the shnakes in hand the bonfires was lit all over the counthry.\nNever was such a flittin\u2019 seen as whin the shnakes came from all parts\nwrigglin\u2019 and crawlin\u2019 an shkwirmin\u2019.\u201d\n\nHere the narrator dramatically threw himself into an attitude, and with\nthe skill of a true improvisatore, suggested in every pose and with\nevery limb and in every motion the serpentine movements.\n\n\u201cThey all came away to the West, and seemed to come to this wan\nmountain. From the North and the South and the East they came be\nmillions an\u2019 thousands an\u2019 hundhreds\u2014for whin St. Patrick ordhered them\nout he only tould them to go, but he didn\u2019t name the place\u2014an there was\nhe up on top of Brandon mountain wid his vistments on to him an\u2019 his\ncrozier in his hand, and the shnakes movein\u2019 below him, all goin up\nNorth, an\u2019, sez he to himself:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018I must see about this.\u2019 An\u2019 he got down from aff iv the mountain, and\nhe folly\u2019d the shnakes, and he see them move along to the hill beyant\nthat they call Knockcalltecrore. An\u2019 be this time they wor all come\nfrom all over Ireland, and they wor all round the mountain\u2014exceptin\u2019\non the say side\u2014an\u2019 they all had their heads pointed up the hill, and\ntheir tails pointed to the Saint, so that they didn\u2019t see him, an\u2019\nthey all gave wan great hiss, an\u2019 then another, an\u2019 another, like wan,\ntwo, three! An\u2019 at the third hiss the King of the Shnakes rose up out\nof the wee fen at the top of the hill, wid his gold crown gleamin\u2019\u2014an\u2019\nmore betoken it was harvest time, an\u2019 the moon was up, an\u2019 the sun was\nsettin\u2019, so the big jool in the crown had the light of both the sun an\u2019\nthe moon, an\u2019 it shone so bright that right away in Lensther the people\nthought the whole counthry was afire. But whin the Saint seen him, his\nwhole forrum seemed to swell out an\u2019 get bigger an\u2019 bigger, an\u2019 he\nlifted his crozier, an\u2019 he pointed West, an\u2019 sez he, in a voice like a\nshtorm, \u2018To the say all ye shnakes! At wanst! to the say!\u2019\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 in the instant, wid wan movement, an\u2019 wid a hiss that made the\nair seem full iv watherfalls the whole iv the shnakes that was round\nthe hill wriggled away into the say as if the fire was at their tails.\nThere was so many iv them that they filled up the say out beyant to\nCusheen Island, and them that was behind, had to shlide over their\nbodies. An\u2019 the say piled up till it sent a wave mountains high\nrollin\u2019 away across the Atlantic till it sthruck upon the shore iv\nAmerica\u2014though more betoken it wasn\u2019t America thin, for it wasn\u2019t\ndiscovered till long afther. An\u2019 there was so many shnakes that they\ndo say that all the white sand that dhrifts up on the coast from the\nBlaskets to Achill Head is made from their bones.\u201d Here Andy cut in:\u2014\n\n\u201cBut, Jerry, you haven\u2019t tould us if the King iv the Shnakes wint too.\u201d\n\n\u201cMusha! but it\u2019s in a hurry ye are. How can I tell ye the whole laygend\nat wanst; an\u2019, moreover, when me mouth is that dhry I can hardly spake\nat all\u2014an\u2019 me punch is all dhrunk\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\nHe turned his glass face down on the table, with an air of comic\nresignation. Mrs. Kelligan took the hint and refilled his glass whilst\nhe went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cWell! whin the shnakes tuk to say-bathin\u2019 an\u2019 forgot to come in to\ndhry themselves, the ould King iv thim sunk down agin into the lake,\nan\u2019 Saint Pathrick rowls his eyes, an\u2019 sez he to himself:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Musha! is it dhramin\u2019 I am, or what? or is it laughin\u2019 at me he is?\nDoes he mane to defy me?\u2018 An\u2019 seein\u2019 that no notice was tuk iv him at\nall, he lifts his crozier, and calls out:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Hi! Here! You! Come here! I want ye!\u2019\u2014As he spoke, Jerry went through\nall the pantomime of the occasion, exemplifying by every movement the\nspeech of both the Saint and the Snake.\n\n\u201cWell! thin the King iv the Shnakes puts up his head, out iv the lake,\nan\u2019 sez he:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Who calls?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018I do,\u2019 says Saint Pathrick, an\u2019 he was so much mulvathered at the\nShnake presumin\u2019 to sthay, afther he tould thim all to go, that for a\nwhile he didn\u2019t think it quare that he could sphake at all.\n\n\u201c\u2018Well, what do ye want wid me?\u2019 sez the Shnake.\n\n\u201c\u2018I want to know why you didn\u2019t lave Irish soil wid all th\u2019 other\nShnakes,\u2019 sez the Saint.\n\n\u201c\u2018Ye tould the Shnakes to go,\u2019 sez the King, \u2018an\u2019 I am their King, so I\nam; and your wurrds didn\u2019t apply to me!\u2019 an\u2019 with that he dhrops like a\nflash of lightnin\u2019 into the lake agin.\n\n\u201cWell! St. Patrick was so tuk back wid his impidence that he had to\nthink for a minit, an\u2019 then he calls again:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Hi! here! you!\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018What do you want now?\u2019 sez the King iv the Shnakes, again poppin\u2019 up\nhis head.\n\n\u201c\u2018I want to know why you didn\u2019t obey me ordhers?\u2019 sez the Saint. An\u2019\nthe King luked at him an\u2019 laughed; and he looked mighty evil, I can\ntell ye\u2014for be this time the sun was down and the moon up, and the jool\nin his crown threw out a pale cold light that would make you shuddher\nto see. \u2018An\u2019,\u2019 says he, as slow an\u2019 as hard as an attorney (saving your\nprisence) when he has a bad case:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018I didn\u2019t obey,\u2019 sez be, \u2018because I thraverse the jurisdiction.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018How do ye mane?\u2019 asks St. Pathrick.\n\n\u201c\u2018Because,\u2019 sez he, \u2018this is my own houldin\u2019,\u2019 sez he, \u2018be perscriptive\nright,\u2019 sez he. \u2018I\u2019m the whole govermint here, and I put a nexeat on\nmeself not to lave widout me own permission,\u2019 and he ducks down agin\ninto the pond.\n\n\u201cWell, the Saint began to get mighty angry, an\u2019 he raises his crozier,\nand he calls him agin:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Hi! here! you!\u2019 and the Shnake pops up.\n\n\u201c\u2018Well! Saint, what do you want now? Amn\u2019t I to be quit iv ye at all?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Are ye goin\u2019, or are ye not?\u2019 sez the Saint.\n\n\u201c\u2018I\u2019m king here; an\u2019 I\u2019m not goin\u2019.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Thin,\u2019 says the Saint, \u2018I depose ye!\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018You can\u2019t,\u2019 sez the Shnake, \u2018whilst I have me crown.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Then I\u2019ll take it from ye,\u2019 sez St. Pathrick.\n\n\u201c\u2018Catch me first!\u2019 sez the Shnake; an\u2019 wid that he pops undher the\nwather, what began to bubble up and boil. Well thin! the good Saint\nstood bewildhered, for as he was lukin\u2019 the wather began to disappear\nout of the wee lake\u2014and then the ground iv the hill began to be shaken\nas if the big Shnake was rushin\u2019 round and round it down deep down\nundher the ground.\n\n\u201cSo the Saint stood on the edge of the empty lake an\u2019 held up his\ncrozier, and called on the Shnake to come forth. And when he luked\ndown, lo! an\u2019 behold ye! there lay the King iv the Shnakes coiled round\nthe bottom iv the lake\u2014though how he had got there the Saint could\nniver tell, for he hadn\u2019t been there when he began to summons him. Then\nthe Shnake raised his head, and, lo! and behold ye! there was no crown\non to it.\n\n\u201c\u2018Where is your crown?\u2019 sez the Saint.\n\n\u201c\u2018It\u2019s hid,\u2019 sez the Shnake, leerin\u2019 at him.\n\n\u201c\u2018Where is it hid?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018It\u2019s hid in the mountain! Buried where you nor the likes iv you can\u2019t\ntouch it in a thousand years!\u2019 an\u2019 he leered agin.\n\n\u201c\u2018Tell me where it may be found?\u2019 sez the Saint starnly. An\u2019 thin the\nShnake leers at him again wid an eviller smile than before; an\u2019 sez he:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Did ye see the wather what was in the lake?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018I did,\u2019 sez Saint Pathrick.\n\n\u201c\u2018Thin, when ye find that wather ye may find me jool\u2019d crown, too,\u2019 sez\nhe; an\u2019 before the Saint could say a word, he wint on:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018An\u2019 till ye git me crown I\u2019m king here still, though ye banish\nme. An\u2019 mayhap, I\u2019ll come in some forrum what ye don\u2019t suspect, for\nI must watch me crown. An\u2019 now I go away\u2014iv me own accorrd.\u2018 An\u2019\nwidout one word more, good or bad, he shlid right away into the say,\ndhrivin\u2019 through the rock an\u2019 makin\u2019 the clift that they call the\nShleenanaher\u2014an\u2019 that\u2019s Irish for the Shnake\u2019s Pass\u2014until this day.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 now, sir, if Mrs. Kelligan hasn\u2019t dhrunk up the whole bar\u2019l, I\u2019d\nlike a dhrop iv punch, for talkin\u2019 is dhry wurrk,\u201d and he buried his\nhead in the steaming jorum, which the hostess had already prepared.\n\nThe company then began to discuss the legend. Said one of the women:\u2014\n\n\u201cI wondher what forrum he tuk when he kem back!\u201d Jerry answered:\u2014\n\n\u201cSure, they do say that the shiftin\u2019 bog wor the forrum he tuk. The\nmountain wid the lake on top used to be the fertilest shpot in the\nwhole counthry; but iver since the bog began to shift this was niver\nthe same.\u201d\n\nHere a hard-faced man named McGlown, who had been silent, struck in\nwith a question:\u2014\n\n\u201cBut who knows when the bog did begin to shift?\u201d\n\n\u201cMusha! Sorra one of me knows; but it was whin th\u2019 ould Shnake druv the\nwather iv the lake into the hill!\u201d\u2014There was a twinkle in the eyes of\nthe story-teller, which made one doubt his own belief in his story.\n\n\u201cWell, for ma own part,\u201d said McGlown, \u201cA don\u2019t believe a sengle word\nof it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 for why not?\u201d said one of the women. \u201cIsn\u2019t the mountain called\n\u2018Knockcalltecrore,\u2019 or \u2018The Hill of the Lost Crown iv Gold,\u2019 till this\nday?\u201d Said another:\u2014\n\n\u201cMusha! how could Misther McGlown believe anythin\u2019, an\u2019 him a\nProtestan\u2019.\u201d\n\n\u201cA\u2019ll tell ye that A much prefer the facs,\u201d said McGlown. \u201cEf hestory\nes till be believed, A much prefer the story told till me by yon old\nman. Damn me! but A believe he\u2019s old enough till remember the theng\nitself.\u201d\n\nHe pointed as he spoke to old Moynahan, who, shrivelled up and\nwhite-haired, crouched in a corner of the inglenook, holding close to\nthe fire his wrinkled shaky hands.\n\n\u201cWhat is the story that Mr. Moynahan has, may I ask?\u201d said I. \u201cPray\noblige, me, won\u2019t you? I am anxious to hear all I can of the mountain,\nfor it has taken my fancy strangely.\u201d\n\nThe old man took the glass of punch, which Mrs. Kelligan handed him as\nthe necessary condition antecedent to a story, and began:\u2014\n\n\u201cOh, sorra one of me knows anythin\u2019 except what I\u2019ve heerd from me\nfather. But I oft heerd him say that he was tould, that it was said,\nthat in the Frinch invasion that didn\u2019t come off undher Gineral\nHumbert, whin the attimpt was over an\u2019 all hope was gone, the English\nsodgers made sure of great prize-money whin they should git hould of\nthe threasure chist. For it was known that there was much money goin\u2019\nan\u2019 that they had brought a lot more than iver they wanted for pay\nand expinses in ordher to help to bribe some of the people that was\nhouldin\u2019 off to be bought by wan side or the other\u2014if they couldn\u2019t\nmanage to git bought be both. But sure enough they wor all sould, bad\ncess to thim! and the divil a bit of money could they lay their hands\non at all.\u201d\n\nHere the old man took a pull at his jug of punch, with so transparent a\nwish to be further interrogated that a smile flashed round the company.\nOne of the old crones remarked, in an audible _sotto voce_:\u2014\n\n\u201cMusha! But Bat is the cute story-teller intirely. Ye have to dhrag it\nout iv him! Go on, Bat! Go on! Tell us what become iv the money.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, what become iv the money? So ye would like to hear! Well, I\u2019ll\ntell ye.\u2014Just one more fill of the jug, Mrs. Kelligan, as the\ngintleman wishes to know all about it.\u2014Well! they did say that the\nofficer what had charge of the money got well away with some five or\nsix others. The chist was a heavy wan\u2014an iron chist bang full up iv\ngoold! Oh, my! but it was fine! A big chist\u2014that high, an\u2019 as long as\nthe table, an\u2019 full up to the led wid goolden money an\u2019 paper money,\nan\u2019 divil a piece of white money in it at all! All goold, every pound\nnote iv it.\u201d\n\nHe paused, and glanced anxiously at Mrs. Kelligan, who was engaged in\nthe new brew.\n\n\u201cNot too much wather if ye love me, Katty. You know me wakeness!\u2014Well,\nthey do say that it tuk hard work to lift the chist into the boat;\nan\u2019 thin they put in a gun carriage to carry it on, an\u2019 tuk out two\nhorses, an\u2019 whin the shmoke was all round an\u2019 the darkness of night was\non they got on shore, an\u2019 made away down South from where the landin\u2019\nwas made at Killala. But, anyhow, they say that none of them was ever\nheerd of agin. But they was thraced through Ardnaree an\u2019 Lough Conn,\nan\u2019 through Castlebar Lake an\u2019 Lough Carra, an\u2019 through Lough Mask an\u2019\nLough Corrib. But they niver kem out through Galway, for the river was\nwatched for thim day an\u2019 night be the sodgers; and how they got along\nGod knows! for \u2019twas said they suffered quare hardships. They tuk the\nchist an\u2019 the gun carriage an\u2019 the horses in the boat, an\u2019 whin they\ncouldn\u2019t go no further they dhragged the boat over the land to the next\nlake, an\u2019 so on. Sure one dhry sayson, when the wathers iv Corrib was\ndown feet lower nor they was iver known afore, a boat was found up at\nthe Bealanabrack end that had lay there for years; but the min nor the\nhorses nor the treasure was never heerd of from that day to this\u2014so\nthey say,\u201d he added, in a mysterious way, and he renewed his attention\nto the punch, as if his tale was ended.\n\n\u201cBut, man alive!\u201d said McGlown, \u201cthat\u2019s only a part. Go on, man dear!\nan\u2019 fenesh the punch after.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, oh! Yes, of course, you want to know the end. Well! no wan knows\nthe end. But they used to say that whin the min lift the boat they\nwint due west, till one night they sthruck the mountain beyant; an\u2019\nthat there they buried the chist an\u2019 killed the horses, or rode away\non them. But anyhow, they wor niver seen again; an\u2019 as sure as you\u2019re\nalive, the money is there in the hill! For luk at the name iv it! Why\ndid any wan iver call it \u2018Knockcalltore\u2019\u2014an\u2019 that\u2019s Irish for \u2018the Hill\nof the Lost Gold\u2019\u2014if the money isn\u2019t there?\u201d\n\n\u201cThrue for ye!\u201d murmured an old woman with a cutty pipe. \u201cFor why,\nindeed? There\u2019s some people what won\u2019t believe nothin\u2019 altho\u2019 it\u2019s\nundher their eyes!\u201d and she puffed away in silent rebuke to the spirit\nof scepticism\u2014which, by the way, had not been manifested by any person\npresent.\n\nThere was a long pause, broken only by one of the old women, who\noccasionally gave a sort of half-grunt, half-sigh, as though\nunconsciously to fill up the hiatus in the talk. She was a \u2018keener\u2019 by\nprofession, and was evidently well fitted to, and well drilled in, her\nwork. Presently old Moynahan broke the silence:\u2014\n\n\u201cWell! it\u2019s a mighty quare thing anyhow that the hill beyant has\nbeen singled out for laygends and sthories and gossip iv all kinds\nconsarnin\u2019 shnakes an\u2019 the like. An\u2019 I\u2019m not so sure, naythur, that\nsome iv thim isn\u2019t there shtill\u2014for mind ye! it\u2019s a mighty curious\nthin\u2019 that the bog beyant keeps shiftin\u2019 till this day. And I\u2019m not so\nsure, naythur, that the shnakes has all left the hill yit!\u201d\n\nThere was a chorus of \u201cThrue for ye!\u201d\n\n\u201cAye, an\u2019 it\u2019s a black shnake too!\u201d said one.\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 wid side-whishkers!\u201d said another.\n\n\u201cBegorra! we want Saint Pathrick to luk in here agin!\u201d said a third.\n\nI whispered to Andy the driver:\u2014\n\n\u201cWho is it they mean?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhisht!\u201d he answered, but without moving his lips; \u201cbut don\u2019t let on I\ntould ye! Sure an\u2019 it\u2019s Black Murdock they mane.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho or what is Murdock?\u201d I queried.\n\n\u201cSure an\u2019 he is the Gombeen Man.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is that? What is a gombeen man?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhisper me now!\u201d said Andy; \u201cax some iv the others. They\u2019ll larn it ye\nmore betther nor I can.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is a gombeen man?\u201d I asked to the company generally.\n\n\u201cA gombeen man is it? Well! I\u2019ll tell ye,\u201d said an old, shrewd-looking\nman at the other side of the hearth. \u201cHe\u2019s a man that linds you a few\nshillin\u2019s or a few pounds whin ye want it bad, and then niver laves ye\ntill he has tuk all ye\u2019ve got\u2014yer land an\u2019 yer shanty an\u2019 yer holdin\u2019\nan\u2019 yer money an\u2019 yer craps; an\u2019 he would take the blood out of yer\nbody if he could sell it or use it anyhow!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I see, a sort of usurer.\u201d\n\n\u201cUshurer? aye that\u2019s it; but a ushurer lives in the city an\u2019 has laws\nto hould him in. But the gombeen has nayther law nor the fear iv law.\nHe\u2019s like wan that the Scriptures says \u2018grinds the faces iv the poor.\u2019\nBegor! it\u2019s him that\u2019d do little for God\u2019s sake if the divil was dead!\u201d\n\n\u201cThen I suppose this man Murdock is a man of means\u2014a rich man in his\nway?\u201d\n\n\u201cRich is it? Sure an\u2019 it\u2019s him as has plinty. He could lave this place\nif he chose an\u2019 settle in Galway\u2014aye or in Dublin itself if he liked\nbetther, and lind money to big min\u2014landlords an\u2019 the like\u2014instead iv\nplayin\u2019 wid poor min here an\u2019 swallyin\u2019 them up, wan be wan.\u2014But he\ncan\u2019t go! He can\u2019t go!\u201d This he said with a vengeful light in his eyes;\nI turned to Andy for explanation.\n\n\u201cCan\u2019t go! How does he mean? What does he mean?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhisht! Don\u2019t ax me. Ax Dan, there. He doesn\u2019t owe him any money!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhich is Dan?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe ould man there be the settle what has just spoke, Dan Moriarty.\nHe\u2019s a warrum man, wid money in bank an\u2019 what owns his houldin\u2019; an\u2019\nhe\u2019s not afeerd to have his say about Murdock.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan any of you tell me why Murdock can\u2019t leave the Hill?\u201d I spoke out.\n\n\u201cBegor\u2019 I can,\u201d said Dan, quickly. \u201cHe can\u2019t lave it because the Hill\nhoulds him!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat on earth do you mean? How can the Hill hold him?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt can hould tight enough! There may be raysons that a man\ngives\u2014sometimes wan thing, an\u2019 sometimes another; but the Hill\nhoulds\u2014an\u2019 houlds tight all the same!\u201d\n\nHere the door was opened suddenly, and the fire blazed up with the rush\nof wind that entered. All stood up suddenly, for the new comer was a\npriest. He was a sturdy man of middle age, with a cheerful countenance.\nSturdy as he was, however, it took him all his strength to shut the\ndoor, but he succeeded before any of the men could get near enough to\nhelp him. Then he turned and saluted all the company:\u2014\n\n\u201cGod save all here.\u201d\n\nAll present tried to do him some service. One took his wet great coat,\nanother his dripping hat, and a third pressed him into the warmest seat\nin the chimney corner, where, in a very few seconds, Mrs. Kelligan\nhanded him a steaming glass of punch, saying, \u201cDhrink that up, yer\nRiv\u2019rence. \u2019Twill help to kape ye from catchin\u2019 cowld.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank ye, kindly,\u201d he answered, as he took it. When he had half\nemptied the glass, he said:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhat was it I heard as I came in about the Hill holding some one?\u201d Dan\nanswered:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Twas me, yer Riverence, I said that the Hill had hould of Black\nMurdock, and could hould him tight.\u201d\n\n\u201cPooh! pooh! man; don\u2019t talk such nonsense. The fact is, sir,\u201d said\nhe, turning to me after throwing a searching glance round the company,\n\u201cthe people here have all sorts of stories about that unlucky Hill\u2014why,\nGod knows; and this man Murdock, that they call Black Murdock, is a\nmoney-lender as well as a farmer, and none of them like him, for he is\na hard man and has done some cruel things among them. When they say\nthe Hill holds him, they mean that he doesn\u2019t like to leave it because\nhe hopes to find a treasure that is said to be buried in it. I\u2019m not\nsure but that the blame is to be thrown on the different names given\nto the Hill. That most commonly given is Knockcalltecrore, which is\na corruption of the Irish phrase Knock-na-callte-cr\u014din-\u014dir, meaning,\n\u2018The Hill of the Lost Golden Crown;\u2019 but it has been sometimes called\nKnockcalltore\u2014short for the Irish words Knock-na-callte-\u014dir, or \u2018The\nHill of the Lost Gold.\u2019 It is said that in some old past time it was\ncalled Knocknanaher, or \u2018The Hill of the Snake;\u2019 and, indeed, there\u2019s\none place on it they call Shleenanaher, meaning the \u2018Snake\u2019s Pass.\u2019 I\ndare say, now, that they have been giving you the legends and stories\nand all the rubbish of that kind. I suppose you know, sir, that in most\nplaces the local fancy has run riot at some period and has left a good\ncrop of absurdities and impossibilities behind it?\u201d\n\nI acquiesced warmly, for I felt touched by the good priest\u2019s desire to\nexplain matters, and to hold his own people blameless for crude ideas\nwhich he did not share. He went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cIt is a queer thing that men must be always putting abstract ideas\ninto concrete shape. No doubt there have been some strange matters\nregarding this mountain that they\u2019ve been talking about\u2014the Shifting\nBog, for instance; and as the people could not account for it in\nany way that they can understand, they knocked up a legend about\nit. Indeed, to be just to them, the legend is a very old one, and\nis mentioned in a manuscript of the twelfth century. But somehow it\nwas lost sight of till about a hundred years ago, when the loss of\nthe treasure-chest from the French invasion at Killala set all the\nimaginations of the people at work, from Donegal to Cork, and they\nfixed the Hill of the Lost Gold as the spot where the money was to\nbe found. There is not a word of fact in the story from beginning to\nend, and\u201d\u2014here he gave a somewhat stern glance round the room\u2014\u201cI\u2019m a\nlittle ashamed to hear so much chat and nonsense given to a strange\ngentleman like as if it was so much gospel. However, you mustn\u2019t be too\nhard in your thoughts on the poor people here, sir, for they\u2019re good\npeople\u2014none better in all Ireland\u2014in all the world for that\u2014but they\ntalk too free to do themselves justice.\u201d\n\nAll those present were silent for awhile. Old Moynahan was the first to\nspeak.\n\n\u201cWell, Father Pether, I don\u2019t say nothin\u2019 about Saint Pathrick an\u2019 the\nshnakes, meself, because I don\u2019t know nothin\u2019 about them; but I know\nthat me own father tould me that he seen the Frinchmin wid his own eyes\ncrossin\u2019 the sthrame below, an\u2019 facin\u2019 up the mountain. The moon was\nrisin\u2019 in the west, an\u2019 the hill threw a big shadda. There was two min\nan\u2019 two horses, an\u2019 they had a big box on a gun carriage. Me father\nseen them cross the sthrame. The load was so heavy that the wheels sunk\nin the clay, an\u2019 the min had to pull at them to git them up again. An\u2019\ndidn\u2019t he see the marks iv the wheels in the ground the very nixt day?\u201d\n\n\u201cBartholomew Moynahan, are you telling the truth?\u201d interrupted the\npriest, speaking sternly.\n\n\u201cThroth an I am, Father Pether; divil a word iv a lie in all I\u2019ve said.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen how is it you\u2019ve never told a word of this before?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I have tould it, Father Pether. There\u2019s more nor wan here now what\nhas heered me tell it; but they wor tould as a saycret!\u201d\n\n\u201cThrue for ye!\u201d came the chorus of almost every person in the room.\nThe unanimity was somewhat comic and caused amongst them a shamefaced\nsilence, which lasted quite several seconds. The pause was not wasted,\nfor by this time Mrs. Kelligan had brewed another jug of punch, and\nglasses were replenished. This interested the little crowd and they\nentered afresh into the subject. As for myself, however, I felt\nstrangely uncomfortable. I could not quite account for it in any\nreasonable way.\n\nI suppose there must be an instinct in men as well as in the lower\norders of animal creation\u2014I felt as though there were a strange\npresence near me.\n\nI quietly looked round. Close to where I sat, on the sheltered side of\nthe house, was a little window built in the deep recess of the wall,\nand, further, almost obliterated by the shadow of the priest as he sat\nclose to the fire. Pressed against the empty lattice, where the glass\nhad once been, I saw the face of a man\u2014a dark, forbidding face it\nseemed in the slight glimpse I caught of it. The profile was towards\nme, for he was evidently listening intently, and he did not see me. Old\nMoynahan went on with his story:\u2014\n\n\u201cMe father hid behind a whin bush, an\u2019 lay as close as a hare in\nhis forrum. The min seemed suspicious of bein\u2019 seen and they looked\ncarefully all round for the sign of anywan. Thin they started up the\nside of the hill; an\u2019 a cloud came over the moon so that for a bit\nme father could see nothin\u2019. But prisintly he seen the two min up on\nthe side of the hill at the south, near Joyce\u2019s mearin\u2019. Thin they\ndisappeared agin, an\u2019 prisintly he seen the horses an\u2019 the gun carriage\nan\u2019 all up in the same place, an\u2019 the moonlight sthruck thim as they\nwint out iv the shadda; and men an\u2019 horses an\u2019 gun carriage an\u2019 chist\nan\u2019 all wint round to the back iv the hill at the west an\u2019 disappeared.\nMe father waited a minute or two to make sure, an\u2019 thin he run round as\nhard as he could an\u2019 hid behind the projectin\u2019 rock at the enthrance\niv the Shleenanaher, an\u2019 there foreninst him! right up the hill side\nhe seen two min carryin\u2019 the chist, an\u2019 it nigh weighed thim down.\nBut the horses an\u2019 the gun carriage was nowhere to be seen. Well! me\nfather was stealin\u2019 out to folly thim, when he loosened a sthone an\u2019 it\nclattered down through the rocks at the Shnake\u2019s Pass wid a noise like\na dhrum, an\u2019 the two min sot down the chist an\u2019 they turned; an\u2019 whin\nthey seen me father one of them runs at him, and he turned an\u2019 run. An\u2019\nthin another black cloud crossed the moon; but me father knew ivery\nfoot of the mountain side, and he run on through the dark. He heerd\nthe footsteps behind him for a bit, but they seemed to get fainter an\u2019\nfainter; but he niver stopped runnin\u2019 till he got to his own cabin.\u2014An\u2019\nthat was the last he iver see iv the men or the horses or the chist.\nMaybe they wint into the air or the say, or the mountain; but anyhow\nthey vanished, and from that day to this no sight or sound or word iv\nthem was ever known!\u201d\n\nThere was a universal, \u2018Oh!\u2019 of relief as he concluded, whilst he\ndrained his glass.\n\nI looked round again at the little window\u2014but the dark face was gone.\n\nThen there arose a perfect babble of sounds. All commented on the\nstory, some in Irish, some in English, and some in a speech, English\nindeed, but so purely and locally idiomatic that I could only guess at\nwhat was intended to be conveyed. The comment generally took the form\nthat two men were to be envied, one of them, the gombeen man, Murdock,\nwho owned a portion of the western side of the hill, the other one,\nJoyce, who owned another section of the same aspect.\n\nIn the midst of the buzz of conversation the clattering of hoofs was\nheard. There was a shout, and the door opened again and admitted a\nstalwart stranger of some fifty years of age, with a strong, determined\nface, with kindly eyes, well dressed but wringing wet, and haggard, and\nseemingly disturbed in mind. One arm hung useless by his side.\n\n\u201cHere\u2019s one of them!\u201d said Father Peter.\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER III.\n\n                           THE GOMBEEN MAN.\n\n\n\u201cGod save all here,\u201d said the man as he entered.\n\nRoom was made for him at the fire. He no sooner came near it and tasted\nthe heat than a cloud of steam arose from him.\n\n\u201cMan! but ye\u2019re wet,\u201d said Mrs. Kelligan. \u201cOne\u2019d think ye\u2019d been in the\nlake beyant!\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I have,\u201d he answered, \u201cworse luck! I rid all the way from Galway\nthis blessed day to be here in time, but the mare slipped coming down\nCurragh Hill and threw me over the bank into the lake. I wor in the\nwather nigh three hours before I could get out, for I was foreninst the\nCurragh Rock an\u2019 only got a foothold in a chink, an\u2019 had to hold on wid\nme one arm for I fear the other is broke.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear! dear! dear!\u201d interrupted the woman. \u201cSthrip yer coat off,\nacushla, an\u2019 let us see if we can do anythin\u2019.\u201d\n\nHe shook his head, as he answered:\u2014\n\n\u201cNot now, there\u2019s not a minute to spare. I must get up the Hill at\nonce. I should have been there be six o\u2019clock. But I mayn\u2019t be too\nlate yit. The mare has broke down entirely. Can any one here lend me a\nhorse?\u201d\n\nThere was no answer till Andy spoke:\u2014\n\n\u201cMe mare is in the shtable, but this gintleman has me an\u2019 her for the\nday, an\u2019 I have to lave him at Carnaclif to-night.\u201d\n\nHere I struck in:\u2014\n\n\u201cNever mind me, Andy! If you can help this gentleman, do so: I\u2019m better\noff here than driving through the storm. He wouldn\u2019t want to go on,\nwith a broken arm, if he hadn\u2019t good reason!\u201d\n\nThe man looked at me with grateful eagerness:\u2014\n\n\u201cThank yer honour, kindly. It\u2019s a rale gintleman ye are! An\u2019 I hope\nye\u2019ll never be sorry for helpin\u2019 a poor fellow in sore throuble.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong, Phelim?\u201d asked the priest. \u201cIs there anything troubling\nyou that any one here can get rid of?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothin\u2019, Father Pether, thank ye kindly. The throuble is me own\nintirely, an\u2019 no wan here could help me. But I must see Murdock\nto-night.\u201d\n\nThere was a general sigh of commiseration; all understood the situation.\n\n\u201cMusha!\u201d said old Dan Moriarty, _sotto voce_. \u201cAn\u2019 is that the way of\nit! An\u2019 is he too in the clutches iv that wolf? Him that we all thought\nwas so warrum. Glory be to God! but it\u2019s a quare wurrld it is; an\u2019 it\u2019s\nfew there is in it that is what they seems. Me poor frind! is there\nany way I can help ye? I have a bit iv money by me that yer welkim to\nthe lend iv av ye want it.\u201d\n\nThe other shook his head gratefully:\u2014\n\n\u201cThank ye kindly, Dan, but I have the money all right; it\u2019s only the\ntime I\u2019m in trouble about!\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly the time! me poor chap! It\u2019s be time that the divil helps Black\nMurdock an\u2019 the likes iv him, the most iv all! God be good to ye if he\nhas got his clutch on yer back, an\u2019 has time on his side, for ye\u2019ll\nwant it!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell! anyhow, I must be goin\u2019 now. Thank ye kindly, neighbours all.\nWhen a man\u2019s in throuble, sure the goodwill of his frinds is the\ngreatest comfort he can have.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll but one, remember that! all but one!\u201d said the priest.\n\n\u201cThank ye kindly, Father, I shan\u2019t forget. Thank ye Andy: an\u2019 you,\ntoo, young sir, I\u2019m much beholden to ye. I hope, some day, I may have\nit to do a good turn for ye in return. Thank ye kindly again, and good\nnight.\u201d He shook my hand warmly, and was going to the door, when old\nDan said:\u2014\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 as for that black-jawed ruffian, Murdock\u2014\u201d He paused, for the door\nsuddenly opened, and a harsh voice said:\u2014\n\n\u201cMurtagh Murdock is here to answer for himself!\u201d\u2014It was my man at the\nwindow.\n\nThere was a sort of paralyzed silence in the room, through which came\nthe whisper of one of the old women:\u2014\n\n\u201cMusha! talk iv the divil!\u201d\n\nJoyce\u2019s face grew very white; one hand instinctively grasped his riding\nswitch, the other hung uselessly by his side. Murdock spoke:\u2014\n\n\u201cI kem here expectin\u2019 to meet Phelim Joyce. I thought I\u2019d save him the\nthrouble of comin\u2019 wid the money.\u201d Joyce said in a husky voice:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhat do ye mane? I have the money right enough here. I\u2019m sorry I\u2019m\na bit late, but I had a bad accident\u2014bruk me arrum, an\u2019 was nigh\ndhrownded in the Curragh Lake. But I was goin\u2019 up to ye at once, bad as\nI am, to pay ye yer money, Murdock.\u201d The Gombeen Man interrupted him:\u2014\n\n\u201cBut it isn\u2019t to me ye\u2019d have to come, me good man. Sure, it\u2019s the\nsheriff, himself, that was waitin\u2019 for ye\u2019, an\u2019 whin ye didn\u2019t\ncome\u201d\u2014here Joyce winced; the speaker smiled\u2014\u201che done his work.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat wurrk, acushla?\u201d asked one of the women. Murdock answered slowly:\u2014\n\n\u201cHe sould the lease iv the farrum known as the Shleenanaher in open\nsale, in accordance wid the terrums of his notice, duly posted, and wid\nwarnin\u2019 given to the houldher iv the lease.\u201d\n\nThere was a long pause. Joyce was the first to speak:\u2014\n\n\u201cYe\u2019re jokin\u2019, Murdock. For God\u2019s sake say ye\u2019re jokin\u2019! Ye tould me\nyerself that I might have time to git the money. An\u2019 ye tould me that\nthe puttin\u2019 me farrum up for sale was only a matther iv forrum to let\nme pay ye back in me own way. Nay! more, ye asked me not to te tell\nany iv the neighbours, for fear some iv them might want to buy some iv\nme land. An\u2019 it\u2019s niver so, that whin ye got me aff to Galway to rise\nthe money, ye went on wid the sale, behind me back\u2014wid not a soul by\nto spake for me or mine\u2014an\u2019 sould up all I have! No! Murtagh Murdock,\nye\u2019re a hard man I know, but ye wouldn\u2019t do that! Ye wouldn\u2019t do that!\u201d\n\nMurdock made no direct reply to him, but said seemingly to the company\ngenerally:\u2014\n\n\u201cI ixpected to see Phelim Joyce at the sale to-day, but as I had some\nbusiness in which he was consarned, I kem here where I knew there\u2019d be\nneighbours\u2014an\u2019 sure so there is.\u201d\n\nHe took out his pocket-book and wrote names, \u201cFather Pether Ryan,\nDaniel Moriarty, Bartholomew Moynahan, Andhrew McGlown, Mrs. Katty\nKelligan\u2014that\u2019s enough! I want ye all to see what I done. There\u2019s\nnothin\u2019 undherhand about me! Phelim Joyce, I give ye formial notice\nthat yer land was sould an\u2019 bought be me, for ye broke yer word to\nrepay me the money lint ye before the time fixed. Here\u2019s the Sheriff\u2019s\nassignmint, an\u2019 I tell ye before all these witnesses that I\u2019ll proceed\nwith ejectment on title at wanst.\u201d\n\nAll in the room were as still as statues. Joyce was fearfully still\nand pale, but when Murdock spoke the word \u201cejectment\u201d he seemed to\nwake in a moment to frenzied life. The blood flushed up in his face\nand he seemed about to do something rash; but with a great effort he\ncontrolled himself and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cMr. Murdock, ye won\u2019t be too hard. I got the money to-day\u2014it\u2019s\nhere\u2014but I had an accident that delayed me. I was thrown into the\nCurragh Lake and nigh drownded an\u2019 me arrum is bruk. Don\u2019t be so close\nas an hour or two\u2014ye\u2019ll never be sorry for it. I\u2019ll pay ye all, and\nmore, and thank ye into the bargain all me life; ye\u2019ll take back the\npaper, won\u2019t ye, for me childhren\u2019s sake\u2014for Norah\u2019s sake?\u201d\n\nHe faltered; the other answered with an evil smile:\u2014\n\n\u201cPhelim Joyce, I\u2019ve waited years for this moment\u2014don\u2019t ye know me\nbetther nor to think I would go back on meself whin I have shtarted on\na road? I wouldn\u2019t take yer money, not if ivery pound note was spread\ninto an acre and cut up in tin-pound notes. I want yer land\u2014I have\nwaited for it, an\u2019 I mane to have it!\u2014Now don\u2019t beg me any more, for I\nwon\u2019t go back\u2014an\u2019 tho\u2019 its many a grudge I owe ye, I square them all\nbefore the neighbours be refusin\u2019 yer prayer. The land is mine, bought\nbe open sale; an\u2019 all the judges an\u2019 coorts in Ireland can\u2019t take it\nfrom me! An\u2019 what do ye say to that now, Phelim Joyce?\u201d\n\nThe tortured man had been clutching the ash sapling which he had used\nas a riding whip, and from the nervous twitching of his fingers I knew\nthat something was coming. And it came; for, without a word, he struck\nthe evil face before him\u2014struck as quick as a flash of lightning\u2014such\na blow that the blood seemed to leap out round the stick, and a vivid\nwelt rose in an instant. With a wild, savage cry the Gombeen Man jumped\nat him; but there were others in the room as quick, and before another\nblow could be struck on either side both men were grasped by strong\nhands and held back.\n\nMurdock\u2019s rage was tragic. He yelled, like a wild beast, to be let get\nat his opponent. He cursed and blasphemed so outrageously that all were\nsilent, and only the stern voice of the priest was heard:\u2014\n\n\u201cBe silent Murtagh Murdock! Aren\u2019t you afraid that the God overhead\nwill strike you dead? With such a storm as is raging as a sign of His\npower, you are a foolish man to tempt Him.\u201d\n\nThe man stopped suddenly, and a stern dogged sullenness took the place\nof his passion. The priest went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cAs for you, Phelim Joyce, you ought to be ashamed of yourself; ye\u2019re\nnot one of my people, but I speak as your own clergyman would if he\nwere here. Only this day has the Lord seen fit to spare you from a\nterrible death; and yet you dare to go back of His mercy with your\nangry passion. You had cause for anger\u2014or temptation to it, I know\u2014but\nyou must learn to kiss the chastening rod, not spurn it. The Lord knows\nwhat He is doing for you as for others, and it may be that you will\nlook back on this day in gratitude for His doing, and in shame for\nyour own anger. Men, hold off your hands\u2014let those two men go; they\u2019ll\nquarrel no more\u2014before me at any rate, I hope.\u201d\n\nThe men drew back. Joyce held his head down, and a more despairing\nfigure or a sadder one I never saw. He turned slowly away, and leaning\nagainst the wall put his face between his hands and sobbed. Murdock\nscowled, and the scowl gave place to an evil smile as looking all\naround he said:\u2014\n\n\u201cWell, now that me work is done, I must be gettin\u2019 home.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 get some wan to iron that mark out iv yer face,\u201d said Dan. Murdock\nturned again and glared around him savagely as he hissed out:\u2014\n\n\u201cThere\u2019ll be iron for some one before I\u2019m done. Mark me well! I\u2019ve\nnever gone back or wakened yit whin I promised to have me own turn.\nThere\u2019s thim here what\u2019ll rue this day yit! If I am the shnake on the\nhill\u2014thin beware the shnake. An\u2019 for him what shtruck me, he\u2019ll be in\nbitther sorra for it yit\u2014him an\u2019 his!\u201d He turned his back and went to\nthe door.\n\n\u201cStop!\u201d said the priest. \u201cMurtagh Murdock, I have a word to say to\nyou\u2014a solemn word of warning. Ye have to-day acted the part of Ahab\ntowards Naboth the Jezreelite; beware of his fate! You have coveted\nyour neighbour\u2019s goods\u2014you have used your power without mercy; you\nhave made the law an engine of oppression. Mark me! It was said of\nold that what measure men meted should be meted out to them again. God\nis very just. \u2018Be not deceived, God is not mocked. For what things a\nman shall sow, those also shall he reap.\u2019 Ye have sowed the wind this\nday\u2014beware lest you reap the whirlwind! Even as God visited his sin\nupon Ahab the Samarian, and as He has visited similar sins on others\nin His own way\u2014so shall He visit yours on you. You are worse than the\nland-grabber\u2014worse than the man who only covets. Saintough is a virtue\ncompared with your act! Remember the story of Naboth\u2019s vineyard, and\nthe dreadful end of it. Don\u2019t answer me! Go and repent if you can, and\nleave sorrow and misery to be comforted by others\u2014unless you wish to\nundo your wrong yourself. If you don\u2019t\u2014then remember the curse that may\ncome upon you yet!\u201d\n\nWithout a word Murdock opened the door and went out, and a little\nlater we heard the clattering of his horse\u2019s feet on the rocky road to\nShleenanaher.\n\nWhen it was apparent to all that he was really gone a torrent of\ncommiseration, sympathy and pity broke over Joyce. The Irish nature is\nessentially emotional, and a more genuine and stronger feeling I never\nsaw. Not a few had tears in their eyes, and one and all were manifestly\ndeeply touched. The least moved was, to all appearance, poor Joyce\nhimself. He seemed to have pulled himself together, and his sterling\nmanhood and courage and pride stood by him. He seemed, however, to\nyield to the kindly wishes of his friends; and when we suggested that\nhis hurt should be looked to, he acquiesced:\u2014\n\n\u201cYes, if you will. Betther not go home to poor Norah and distress her\nwith it. Poor child! she\u2019ll have enough to bear without that.\u201d\n\nHis coat was taken off, and between us we managed to bandage the wound.\nThe priest, who had some surgical knowledge, came to the conclusion\nthat there was only a simple fracture. He splinted and bandaged the\narm, and we all agreed that it would be better for Joyce to wait until\nthe storm was over before starting for home. Andy said he could take\nhim on the car, as he knew the road well, and that, as it was partly on\nthe road to Carnaclif, we should only have to make a short detour and\nwould pass the house of the doctor, by whom the arm could be properly\nattended to.\n\nSo we sat around the fire again, whilst, without, the storm howled and\nthe fierce gusts which swept the valley seemed at times as if they\nwould break in the door, lift off the roof, or in some way annihilate\nthe time-worn cabin which gave us shelter.\n\nThere could, of course, be only one subject of conversation now, and\nold Dan simply interpreted the public wish, when he said:\u2014\n\n\u201cTell us, Phelim, sure we\u2019re all friends here! how Black Murdock got\nye in his clutches? Sure any wan of us would get you out of thim if he\ncould.\u201d\n\nThere was a general acquiescence. Joyce yielded himself, and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cLet me thank ye, neighbours all, for yer kindness to me and mine this\nsorraful night. Well! I\u2019ll say no more about that; but I\u2019ll tell ye how\nit was that Murdock got me into his power. Ye know that boy of mine,\nEugene?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! and he\u2019s the fine lad, God bless him! an\u2019 the good lad too!\u201d\u2014this\nfrom the women.\n\n\u201cWell! ye know too that he got on so well whin I sint him to school\nthat Dr. Walsh recommended me to make an ingineer of him. He said he\nhad such promise that it was a pity not to see him get the right start\nin life, and he gave me, himself, a letther to Sir George Henshaw, the\ngreat ingineer. I wint and seen him, and he said he would take the\nboy. He tould me that there was a big fee to be paid, but I was not to\nthrouble about that\u2014at any rate, that he himself didn\u2019t want any fee,\nand he would ask his partner if he would give up his share too. But the\nlatther was hard up for money. He said he couldn\u2019t give up all fee,\nbut that he would take half the fee, provided it was paid down in dhry\nmoney. Well! the regular fee to the firm was five hundhred pounds, and\nas Sir George had giv up half an\u2019 only half th\u2019 other half was to be\npaid, that was possible. I hadn\u2019t got more\u2019n a few pounds by me\u2014for\nwhat wid dhrainin\u2019 and plantin\u2019 and fencin\u2019 and the payin\u2019 the boy\u2019s\nschoolin\u2019, and the girl\u2019s at the Nuns\u2019 in Galway, it had put me to\nthe pin iv me collar to find the money up to now. But I didn\u2019t like to\nlet the boy lose his chance in life for want of an effort, an\u2019 I put\nme pride in me pocket an\u2019 kem an\u2019 asked Murdock for the money. He was\nvery smooth an\u2019 nice wid me\u2014I know why now\u2014an\u2019 promised he would give\nit at wanst if I would give him security on me land. Sure he joked an\u2019\nlaughed wid me, an\u2019 was that cheerful that I didn\u2019t misthrust him. He\ntould me it was only forrums I was signin\u2019 that\u2019d never be used\u201d\u2014\u2014 Here\nDan Moriarty interrupted him:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhat did ye sign, Phelim?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere wor two papers. Wan was a writin\u2019 iv some kind, that in\nconsidheration iv the money lent an\u2019 his own land\u2014which I was to take\nover if the money wasn\u2019t paid at the time appointed\u2014he was to get me\nlease from me: an\u2019 the other was a power of attorney to Enther Judgment\nfor the amount if the money wasn\u2019t paid at the right time. I thought I\nwas all safe as I could repay him in the time named, an\u2019 if the worst\nkem to the worst I might borry the money from some wan else\u2014for the\nlease is worth the sum tin times over\u2014an\u2019 repay him. Well! what\u2019s the\nuse of lookin\u2019 back, anyhow! I signed the papers\u2014that was a year ago,\nan\u2019 one week. An\u2019 a week ago the time was up!\u201d He gulped down a sob,\nand went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cWell! ye all know the year gone has been a terrible bad wan, an\u2019 as\nfor me it was all I could do to hould on\u2014to make up the money was\nimpossible. Thrue the lad cost me next to nothin\u2019, for he arned his\nkeep be exthra work, an\u2019 the girl, Norah, kem home from school and\nlaboured wid me, an\u2019 we saved every penny we could. But it was all\nno use!\u2014we couldn\u2019t get the money together anyhow. Thin we had the\nmisfortin wid the cattle that ye all know of; an\u2019 three horses, that\nI sould in Dublin, up an\u2019 died before the time I guaranteed them free\nfrom sickness.\u201d Here Andy struck in:\u2014\n\n\u201cThrue for ye! Sure there was some dhreadful disordher in Dublin among\nthe horse cattle, intirely; an\u2019 even Misther Docther Perfesshinal\nFerguson himself couldn\u2019t git undher it!\u201d Joyce went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 as the time grew nigh I began to fear, but Murdock came down to\nsee me whin I was alone, an\u2019 tould me not to throuble about the money\nan\u2019 not to mind about the sheriff, for he had to give him notice.\n\u2018An\u2019,\u2019 says he, \u2018I wouldn\u2019t, if I was you, tell Norah anythin\u2019 about\nit, for it might frighten the girl\u2014for weemin is apt to take to heart\nthings like that that\u2019s only small things to min like us.\u2018 An\u2019 so, God\nforgive me, I believed him; an\u2019 I niver tould me child anything about\nit\u2014even whin I got the notice from the sheriff. An\u2019 whin the Notice\ntellin\u2019 of the sale was posted up on me land, I tuk it down meself so\nthat the poor child wouldn\u2019t be frightened\u2014God help me!\u201d He broke down\nfor a bit, but then went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cBut somehow I wasn\u2019t asy in me mind, an\u2019 whin the time iv the sale\ndhrew nigh I couldn\u2019t keep it to meself any longer, an\u2019 I tould\nNorah. That was only yisterday, and look at me to-day! Norah agreed\nwid me that we shouldn\u2019t trust the Gombeen, an\u2019 she sent me off to\nthe Galway Bank to borry the money. She said I was an honest man an\u2019\nfarmed me own land, and that the bank might lind the money on it. An\u2019\nsure enough whin I wint there this mornin\u2019 be appointment, wid the\nCoadjuthor himself to inthroduce me, though he didn\u2019t know why I wanted\nthe money\u2014that was Norah\u2019s idea, and the Mother Superior settled it\nfor her\u2014the manager, who is a nice gintleman, tould me at wanst that I\nmight have the money on me own note iv hand. I only gave him a formal\nwritin\u2019, an\u2019 I took away the money. Here it is in me pocket in good\nnotes; they\u2019re wet wid the lake, but I\u2019m thankful to say all safe.\nBut it\u2019s too late, God help me!\u201d Here he broke down for a minute, but\nrecovered himself with an effort:\u2014\n\n\u201cAnyhow the bank that thrusted me musn\u2019t be wronged. Back the money\ngoes to Galway as soon as iver I can get it there. If I am a ruined man\nI needn\u2019t be a dishonest wan! But poor Norah! God help her! it will\nbreak her poor heart.\u201d\n\nThere was a spell of silence only broken by sympathetic moans. The\nfirst to speak was the priest.\n\n\u201cPhelim Joyce, I told you a while ago, in the midst of your passion,\nthat God knows what He is doin\u2019, and works in His own way. You\u2019re an\nhonest man, Phelim, and God knows it, and, mark me, He won\u2019t let you\nnor yours suffer. \u2018I have been young,\u2019 said the Psalmist, \u2018and now\nam old; and I have not seen the just forsaken, nor his seed seeking\nbread.\u2019 Think of that, Phelim!\u2014may it comfort you and poor Norah. God\nbless her! but she\u2019s the good girl. You have much to be thankful for,\nwith a daughter like her to comfort you at home and take the place of\nher poor mother, who was the best of women; and with such a boy as\nEugene, winnin\u2019 name and credit, and perhaps fame to come, even in\nEngland itself. Thank God for His many mercies, Phelim, and trust Him.\u201d\n\nThere was a dead silence in the room. The stern man rose, and coming\nover took the priest\u2019s hand.\n\n\u201cGod bless ye, Father!\u201d he said, \u201cit\u2019s the true comforter ye are.\u201d\n\nThe scene was a most touching one; I shall never forget it. The worst\nof the poor man\u2019s trouble seemed now past. He had faced the darkest\nhour; he had told his trouble, and was now prepared to make the best of\neverything\u2014for the time at least\u2014for I could not reconcile to my mind\nthe idea that that proud, stern man, would not take the blow to heart\nfor many a long day, that it might even embitter his life.\n\nOld Dan tried comfort in a practical way by thinking of what was to be\ndone. Said he:\u2014\n\n\u201cIv course, Phelim, it\u2019s a mighty throuble to give up yer own foine\nland an\u2019 take Murdock\u2019s bleak shpot instead, but I daresay ye will be\nable to work it well enough. Tell me, have ye signed away all the land,\nor only the lower farm? I mane, is the Cliff Fields yours or his?\u201d\n\nHere was a gleam of comfort evidently to the poor man. His face\nlightened as he replied:\u2014\n\n\u201cOnly the lower farm, thank God! Indeed, I couldn\u2019t part wid the\nCliff Fields, for they don\u2019t belong to me\u2014they are Norah\u2019s, that her\npoor mother left her\u2014they wor settled on her, whin we married, be her\nfather, and whin he died we got them. But, indeed, I fear they\u2019re but\nsmall use be themselves; shure there\u2019s no wather in them at all, savin\u2019\nwhat runs off me ould land; an\u2019 if we have to carry wather all the way\ndown the hill from\u2014from me new land\u201d\u2014this was said with a smile, which\nwas a sturdy effort at cheerfulness\u2014\u201cit will be but poor work to raise\nanythin\u2019 there\u2014ayther shtock or craps. No doubt but Murdock will take\naway the sthrame iv wather that runs there now. He\u2019ll want to get the\ncliff lands, too, I suppose.\u201d\n\nI ventured to ask a question:\u2014\n\n\u201cHow do your lands lie compared with Mr. Murdock\u2019s?\u201d\n\nThere was bitterness in his tone as he answered, in true Irish fashion:\n\n\u201cDo you mane me ould land, or me new?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe lands that were\u2014that ought still to be yours,\u201d I answered.\n\nHe was pleased at the reply, and his face softened as he replied:\u2014\n\n\u201cWell, the way of it is this. We two owns the West side of the hill\nbetween us. Murdock\u2019s land\u2014I\u2019m spakin\u2019 iv them as they are, till he\ngets possession iv mine\u2014lies at the top iv the hill; mine lies below.\nMy land is the best bit on the mountain, while the Gombeen\u2019s is poor\nsoil, with only a few good patches here and there. Moreover, there is\nanother thing. There is a bog which is high up the hill, mostly on his\nhouldin\u2019, but my land is free from bog, except one end of the big bog,\nan\u2019 a stretch of dry turf, the best in the counthry, an\u2019 wid\u2019 enough\nturf to last for a hundhred years, it\u2019s that deep.\u201d\n\nOld Dan joined in:\u2014\n\n\u201cThrue enough! that bog of the Grombeen\u2019s isn\u2019t much use anyhow. It\u2019s\nrank and rotten wid wather. Whin it made up its mind to sthay, it might\nhave done betther!\u201d\n\n\u201cThe bog? Made up its mind to stay! What on earth do you mean?\u201d I\nasked. I was fairly puzzled.\n\n\u201cDidn\u2019t ye hear talk already,\u201d said Dan, \u201cof the shiftin\u2019 bog on the\nmountain?\u201d\n\n\u201cI did.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s it! It moved an\u2019 moved an\u2019 moved longer than anywan can\nremimber. Me grandfather wanst tould me that whin he was a gossoon it\nwasn\u2019t nigh so big as it was when he tould me. It hasn\u2019t shifted in my\ntime, and I make bould to say that it has made up its mind to settle\ndown where it is. Ye must only make the best of it, Phelim. I daresay\nye will turn it to some account.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll try what I can do, anyhow. I don\u2019t mane to fould me arms an\u2019 sit\ndown op-pawsit me property an\u2019 ate it!\u201d was the brave answer.\n\nFor myself, the whole idea was most interesting. I had never before\neven heard of a shifting bog, and I determined to visit it before I\nleft this part of the country.\n\nBy this time the storm was beginning to abate. The rain had ceased, and\nAndy said we might proceed on our journey. So after a while we were on\nour way; the wounded man and I sitting on one side of the car, and Andy\non the other. The whole company came out to wish us God-speed, and with\nsuch comfort as good counsel and good wishes could give we ventured\ninto the inky darkness of the night.\n\nAndy was certainly a born car-driver. Not even the darkness, the\ncomparative strangeness of the road, or the amount of whisky-punch\nwhich he had on board could disturb his driving in the least; he went\nsteadily on. The car rocked and swayed and bumped, for the road was\na bye one, and in but poor condition\u2014but Andy and the mare went on\nalike unmoved. Once or twice only, in a journey of some three miles of\nwinding bye-lanes, crossed and crossed again by lanes or water-courses,\ndid he ask the way. I could not tell which was roadway and which\nwater-way, for they were all water-courses at present, and the darkness\nwas profound. Still, both Andy and Joyce seemed to have a sense lacking\nin myself, for now and again they spoke of things which I could not see\nat all. As, for instance, when Andy asked:\u2014\n\n\u201cDo we go up or down where the road branches beyant?\u201d Or again: \u201cI\ndisremimber, but is that Micky Dolan\u2019s ould apple three, or didn\u2019t he\ncut it down? an\u2019 is it Tim\u2019s fornent us on the lift?\u201d\n\nPresently we turned to the right, and drove up a short avenue towards a\nhouse. I knew it to be a house by the light in the windows, for shape\nit had none. Andy jumped down and knocked, and after a short colloquy,\nJoyce got down and went into the Doctor\u2019s house. I was asked to go\ntoo, but thought it better not to, as it would only have disturbed the\nDoctor in his work; and so Andy and I possessed our souls in patience\nuntil Joyce came out again, with his arm in a proper splint. And then\nwe resumed our journey through the inky darkness.\n\nHowever, after a while either there came more light into the sky, or\nmy eyes became accustomed to the darkness, for I thought that now and\nagain I beheld \u201cmen as trees walking.\u201d\n\nPresently something dark and massive seemed outlined in the sky before\nus\u2014a blackness projected on a darkness\u2014and, said Andy, turning to me:\u2014\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s Knockcalltecrore; we\u2019re nigh the foot iv it now, and pretty\nshortly we\u2019ll be at the enthrance iv the boreen, where Misther Joyce\u2019ll\ngit aff.\u201d\n\nWe plodded on for a while, and the hill before us seemed to overshadow\nwhatever glimmer of light there was, for the darkness grew more\nprofound than ever; then Andy turned to my companion:\u2014\n\n\u201cSure, isn\u2019t that Miss Norah I see sittin\u2019 on the shtyle beyant?\u201d I\nlooked eagerly in the direction in which he evidently pointed, but for\nthe life of me I could see nothing.\n\n\u201cNo! I hope not,\u201d said the father, hastily. \u201cShe\u2019s never come out in\nthe shtorm. Yes! It is her, she sees us.\u201d\n\nJust then there came a sweet sound down the lane:\u2014\n\n\u201cIs that you, father?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes! my child; but I hope you\u2019ve not been out in the shtorm.\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly a bit, father; I was anxious about you. Is it all right, father;\ndid you get what you wanted?\u201d She had jumped off the stile and had\ndrawn nearer to us, and she evidently saw me, and went on in a changed\nand shyer voice:-\n\n\u201cOh! I beg your pardon, I did not see you had a stranger with you.\u201d\n\nThis was all bewildering to me; I could hear it all\u2014and a sweeter voice\nI never heard\u2014but yet I felt like a blind man, for not a thing could I\nsee, whilst each of the three others was seemingly as much at ease as\nin the daylight.\n\n\u201cThis gentleman has been very kind to me, Norah. He has given me a seat\non his car, and indeed he\u2019s come out of his way to lave me here.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am sure we\u2019re all grateful to you, sir; but, father, where is your\nhorse? Why are you on a car at all? Father, I hope you haven\u2019t met with\nany accident\u2014I have been so fearful for you all the day.\u201d This was\nspoken in a fainter voice; had my eyes been of service, I was sure I\nwould have seen her grow pale.\n\n\u201cYes, my darlin\u2019, I got a fall on the Curragh Hill, but I\u2019m all right.\nNorah dear! Quick, quick! catch her, she\u2019s faintin\u2019!\u2014my God! I can\u2019t\nstir!\u201d\n\nI jumped off the car in the direction of the voice, but my arms sought\nthe empty air. However, I heard Andy\u2019s voice beside me:\u2014\n\n\u201cAll right! I have her. Hould up, Miss Norah; yer dada\u2019s all right,\ndon\u2019t ye see him there, sittin\u2019 on me car. All right, sir, she\u2019s a\nbrave girrul! she hasn\u2019t fainted.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am all right,\u201d she murmured, faintly; \u201cbut, father, I hope you are\nnot hurt?\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly a little, my darlin\u2019, just enough for ye to nurse me a while; I\ndaresay a few days will make me all right again. Thank ye, Andy; steady\nnow, till I get down; I\u2019m feelin\u2019 a wee bit stiff.\u201d Andy evidently\nhelped him to the ground.\n\n\u201cGood night, Andy, and good night you too, sir, and thank you kindly\nfor your goodness to me all this night. I hope I\u2019ll see you again.\u201d He\ntook my hand in his uninjured one, and shook it warmly.\n\n\u201cGood night,\u201d I said, and \u201cgood-bye: I am sure I hope we shall meet\nagain.\u201d\n\nAnother hand took mine as he relinquished it\u2014a warm, strong one\u2014and a\nsweet voice said, shyly:\u2014\n\n\u201cGood night, sir, and thank you for your kindness to father.\u201d\n\nI faltered \u201cGood night,\u201d as I raised my hat; the aggravation of the\ndarkness at such a moment was more than I could equably bear. We heard\nthem pass up the boreen, and I climbed on the car again.\n\nThe night seemed darker than ever as we turned our steps towards\nCarnaclif, and the journey was the dreariest one I had ever taken. I\nhad only one thought which gave me any pleasure, but that was a pretty\nconstant one through the long miles of damp, sodden road\u2014the warm hand\nand the sweet voice coming out of the darkness, and all in the shadow\nof that mysterious mountain, which seemed to have become a part of\nmy life. The words of the old story-teller came back to me again and\nagain:\u2014\n\n\u201cThe Hill can hould tight enough! A man has raysons\u2014sometimes wan thing\nand sometimes another\u2014but the Hill houlds him all the same!\u201d\n\nAnd a vague wonder grew upon me as to whether it could ever hold me,\nand how!\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER IV.\n\n                        THE SECRETS OF THE BOG.\n\n\nSome six weeks elapsed before my visits to Irish friends were\ncompleted, and I was about to return home. I had had everywhere a\nhearty welcome; the best of sport of all kinds, and an appetite beyond\nall praise\u2014and one pretty well required to tackle with any show of\nsuccess the excellent food and wine put before me. The west of Ireland\nnot only produces good viands in plenty and of the highest excellence,\nbut there is remaining a keen recollection, accompanied by tangible\nresults, of the days when open house and its hospitable accompaniments\nmade wine merchants prosperous\u2014at the expense of their customers.\n\nIn the midst of all my pleasure, however, I could not shake from my\nmind\u2014nor, indeed, did I want to\u2014the interest which Shleenanaher and\nits surroundings had created in me. Nor did the experience of that\nstrange night, with the sweet voice coming through the darkness in\nthe shadow of the hill, become dim with the passing of the time. When\nI look back and try to analyse myself and my feelings with the aid\nof the knowledge and experience of life received since then, I think\nthat I must have been in love. I do not know if philosophers have\never undertaken to say whether it is possible for a human being to be\nin love in the abstract\u2014whether the something which the heart has a\ntendency to send forth needs a concrete objective point! It may be so;\nthe swarm of bees goes from the parent hive with only the impulse of\ngoing\u2014its settling is a matter of chance. At any rate I may say that no\nphilosopher, logician, metaphysician, psychologist, or other thinker,\nof whatsoever shade of opinion, ever held that a man could be in love\nwith a voice.\n\nTrue that the unknown has a charm\u2014_omne ignotum pro magnifico_. If my\nheart did not love, at least it had a tendency to worship. Here I am on\nsolid ground; for which of us but can understand the feelings of those\nmen of old in Athens, who devoted their altars \u201cTo The Unknown God?\u201d I\nleave the philosophers to say how far apart, or how near, are love and\nworship; which is first in historical sequence, which is greatest or\nmost sacred! Being human, I cannot see any grace or beauty in worship\nwithout love.\n\nHowever, be the cause what it might, I made up my mind to return home\nvi\u00e2 Carnaclif. To go from Clare to Dublin by way of Galway and Mayo is\nto challenge opinion as to one\u2019s motive. I did not challenge opinion,\nI distinctly avoided doing so, and I am inclined to think that there\nwas more of Norah than of Shleenanaher in the cause of my reticence. I\ncould bear to be \u201cchaffed\u201d about a superstitious feeling respecting a\nmountain, or I could endure the same process regarding a girl of whom I\nhad no high ideal, no sweet illusive memory.\n\nI would never complete the argument, even to myself\u2014then; later on, the\ncause or subject of it varied!\n\nIt was not without a certain conflict of feelings that I approached\nCarnaclif, even though on this occasion I approached it from the South,\nwhereas on my former visit I had come from the North. I felt that the\ntime went miserably slowly, and yet nothing would have induced me to\nadmit so much. I almost regretted that I had come, even whilst I was\nharrowed with thoughts that I might not be able to arrive at all at\nKnockcalltecrore. At times I felt as though the whole thing had been a\ndream; and again as though the romantic nimbus with which imagination\nhad surrounded and hallowed all things must pass away and show that\nmy unknown beings and my facts of delicate fantasy were but stern and\nvulgar realities.\n\nThe people at the little hotel made me welcome with the usual effusive\nhospitable intention of the West. Indeed, I was somewhat nettled at how\nwell they remembered me, as for instance when the buxom landlady said:\u2014\n\n\u201cI\u2019m glad to be able to tell ye, sir, that yer carman, Andy Sullivan,\nis here now. He kem with a commercial from Westport to Roundwood, an\u2019\nis on his way back, an\u2019 hopin\u2019 for a return job. I think ye\u2019ll be able\nto make a bargain with him if ye wish.\u201d\n\nI made to this kindly speech a hasty and, I felt, an ill-conditioned\nreply, to the effect that I was going to stay in the neighbourhood\nfor only a few days and would not require the car. I then went to my\nroom, and locked my door muttering a malediction on officious people. I\nstayed there for some time, until I thought that probably Andy had gone\non his way, and then ventured out.\n\nI little knew Andy, however. When I came to the hall, the first person\nthat I saw was the cheerful driver, who came forward to welcome me:\u2014\n\n\u201cMusha! but it\u2019s glad I am to see yer \u2019an\u2019r. An\u2019 it\u2019ll be the proud man\nI\u2019ll be to bhring ye back to Westport wid me.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry Andy,\u201d I began, \u201cthat I shall not want you, as I am going to\nstay in this neighbourhood for a few days.\u201d\n\n\u201cSthay is it? Begor! but it\u2019s more gladerer shtill I am. Sure the mare\nwants a rist, an\u2019 it\u2019ll shute her an\u2019 me all to nothin\u2019; an\u2019 thin\nwhilst ye\u2019re here I can be dhrivin\u2019 yer \u2019an\u2019r out to Shleenanaher. It\nisn\u2019t far enough to intherfere wid her rist.\u201d\n\nI answered in, I thought, a dignified way\u2014I certainly intended to be\ndignified:\u2014\n\n\u201cI did not say, Sullivan, that I purposed going out to Shleenanaher or\nany other place in the neighbourhood.\u201d\n\n\u201cShure no, yer \u2019an\u2019r, but I remimber ye said ye\u2019d like to see the\nShiftin\u2019 Bog; an\u2019 thin Misther Joyce and Miss Norah is in throuble, and\nye might be a comfort to thim.\u201d\n\n\u201cMr. Joyce! Miss Norah! who are they?\u201d I felt that I was getting red\nand that the tone of my voice was most unnatural.\n\nAndy\u2019s sole answer was as comical a look as I ever saw, the central\nobject in which was a wink which there was no mistaking. I could not\nface it, and had to say:\n\n\u201cOh yes, I remember now! was not that the man we took on the car to a\ndark mountain?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, surr\u2014him and his daughther!\u201d\n\n\u201cHis daughter! I do not remember her. Surely we only took him on the\ncar.\u201d Again I felt angry, and with the anger an inward determination\nnot to have Andy or anyone else prying around me when I should choose\nto visit even such an uncompromising phenomenon as a shifting bog.\nAndy, like all humourists, understood human nature, and summed up the\nsituation conclusively in his reply\u2014inconsequential though it was:\u2014\n\n\u201cShure yer \u2019an\u2019r can thrust me; its blind or deaf an\u2019 dumb I am, an\u2019\nthem as knows me knows I\u2019m not the man to go back on a young gintleman\ngoin\u2019 to luk at a bog. Sure doesn\u2019t all young min do that same? I\u2019ve\nbeen there meself times out iv mind! There\u2019s nothin\u2019 in the wurrld\nforeninst it! Lukin\u2019 at bogs is the most intherestin\u2019 thin\u2019 I knows.\u201d\n\nThere was no arguing with Andy; and as he knew the place and the\npeople, I, then and there, concluded an engagement with him. He was\nto stay in Carnaclif whilst I wanted him, and then drive me over to\nWestport.\n\nAs I was now fairly launched on the enterprise, I thought it better to\nlose no time, but arranged to visit the bog early the next morning.\n\nAs I was lighting my cigar after dinner that evening Mrs. Keating, my\nhostess, came in to ask me a favour. She said that there was staying\nin the house a gentleman who went over every day to Knockcalltecrore,\nand as she understood that I was going there in the morning, she made\nbold to ask if I would mind giving a seat on my car to him as he had\nturned his ancle that day and feared he would not be able to walk.\nUnder the circumstances I could only say \u201cyes,\u201d as it would have been\na churlish thing to refuse. Accordingly I gave permission with seeming\ncheerfulness, but when I was alone my true feelings found vent in\nmuttered grumbling:\u2014\u201cI ought to travel in an ambulance instead of a\ncar.\u201d \u201cI seem never to be able to get near this Shleenanaher without an\ninvalid.\u201d \u201cOnce ought to be enough! but it has become the regulation\nthing now.\u201d \u201cI wish to goodness Andy would hold his infernal tongue\u2014I\u2019d\nas lief have a detective after me all the time.\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s all very well\nto be a good Samaritan as a luxury\u2014but as a profession it becomes\nmonotonous.\u201d \u201cConfound Andy! I wish I\u2019d never seen him at all.\u201d\n\nThis last thought brought me up standing, and set me face to face with\nmy baseless ill-humour. If I had never seen Andy I should never have\nheard at all of Shleenanaher. I should not have known the legend\u2014I\nshould not have heard Norah\u2019s voice.\n\n\u201cAnd so,\u201d said I to myself, \u201cthis ideal fantasy\u2014this embodiment of a\nwoman\u2019s voice, has a concrete name already. Aye! a concrete name, and a\nsweet one too.\u201d\n\nAnd so I took another step on my way to the bog, and lost my ill-humour\nat the same time. When my cigar was half through and my feelings were\nproportionately soothed, I strolled into the bar and asked Mrs. Keating\nas to my companion of the morrow. She told me that he was a young\nengineer named Sutherland.\n\n\u201cWhat Sutherland?\u201d I asked. Adding that I had been at school with a\nDick Sutherland, who had, I believed, gone into the Irish College of\nScience.\n\n\u201cPerhaps it\u2019s the same gentleman, sir. This is Mr. Richard Sutherland,\nand I\u2019ve heerd him say that he was at Stephen\u2019s Green.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe same man!\u201d said I, \u201cthis is jolly! Tell me, Mrs. Keating, what\nbrings him here?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe\u2019s doin\u2019 some work on Knockcalltecrore for Mr. Murdock, some quare\nthing or another. They do tell me, sir, that it\u2019s a most mystayrious\nthing, wid poles an\u2019 lines an\u2019 magnets an\u2019 all kinds of divilments.\nThey say that Mr. Murdock is goin\u2019 from off of his head ever since he\nhad the law of poor Phelim Joyce. My! but he\u2019s the decent man, that\nsame Mr. Joyce, an\u2019 the Gombeen has been hard upon him.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat was the law suit?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u201cAll about a sellin\u2019 his land on an agreement. Mr. Joyce borryed some\nmoney, an\u2019 promised if it wasn\u2019t paid back at a certain time that he\nwould swop lands. Poor Joyce met wid an accident comin\u2019 home with the\nmoney from Galway an\u2019 was late, an\u2019 when he got home found that the\nGrombeen had got the sheriff to sell up his land on to him. Mr. Joyce\nthried it in the Coorts, but now Murdock has got a decree on to him an\u2019\nthe poor man\u2019ll to give up his fat lands an\u2019 take the Gombeen\u2019s poor\nones instead.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s bad! when has he to give up?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I disremember meself exactly, but Mr. Sutherland will be able to\ntell ye all about it as ye drive over in the mornin.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere is he now? I should like to see him; it may be my old\nschoolfellow.\u201d\n\n\u201cTroth, it\u2019s in his bed he is; for he rises mighty arly, I can tell ye.\u201d\n\nAfter a stroll through the town (so-called) to finish my cigar I went\nto bed also, for we started early. In the morning, when I came down\nto my breakfast I found Mr. Sutherland finishing his. It was my old\nschoolfellow; but from being a slight, pale boy, he had grown into a\nburly, hale, stalwart man, with keen eyes and a flowing brown beard.\nThe only pallor noticeable was the whiteness of his brow, which was\nample and lofty as of old.\n\nWe greeted each other cordially, and I felt as if old times had come\nagain, for Dick and I had been great friends at school. When we were on\nour way I renewed my inquiries about Shleenanaher and its inhabitants.\nI began by asking Sutherland as to what brought him there. He answered:\u2014\n\n\u201cI was just about to ask you the same question. \u2018What brings you here?\u2019\u201d\n\nI felt a difficulty in answering as freely as I could have wished, for\nI knew that Andy\u2019s alert ears were close to us, so I said:\u2014\n\n\u201cI have been paying some visits along the West Coast, and I thought\nI would take the opportunity on my way home of investigating a very\ncurious phenomenon of whose existence I became casually acquainted on\nmy way here\u2014a shifting bog.\u201d\n\nAndy here must strike in:\u2014\n\n\u201cShure the masther is mighty fond iv bogs, intirely. I don\u2019t know\nthere\u2019s anything in the wurruld what intherests him so much.\u201d\n\nHere he winked at me in a manner that said as plainly as if spoken in\nso many words, \u201cAll right, yer \u2019an\u2019r, I\u2019ll back ye up!\u201d\n\nSutherland laughed as he answered:\u2014\n\n\u201cWell, you\u2019re in the right place here, Art; the difficulty they\nhave in this part of the world is to find a place that is _not_ bog.\nHowever, about the shifting bog on Knockcalltecrore, I can, perhaps,\nhelp you as much as any one. As you know, geology has been one of my\nfavourite studies, and lately I have taken to investigate in my spare\ntime the phenomena of this very subject. The bog at Shleenanaher\nis most interesting. As yet, however, my investigation can only be\npartial, but very soon I shall have the opportunity which I require.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow is that?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u201cThe difficulty arises,\u201d he answered, \u201cfrom a local feud between two\nmen, one of them my employer, Murdock, and his neighbour, Joyce.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d I interrupted, \u201cI know something of it. I was present when the\nsheriff\u2019s assignment was shown to Joyce, and saw the quarrel. But how\ndoes it affect you and your study?\u201d\n\n\u201cThis way; the bog is partly on Murdock\u2019s land and partly on Joyce\u2019s,\nand until I can investigate the whole extent I cannot come to a\ndefinite conclusion. The feud is so bitter at present that neither man\nwill allow the other to set foot over his boundary\u2014or the foot of any\none to whom the other is friendly. However, to-morrow the exchange\nof lands is to be effected, and then I shall be able to continue my\ninvestigation. I have already gone nearly all over Murdock\u2019s present\nground, and after to-morrow I shall be able to go over his new\nground\u2014up to now forbidden to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow does Joyce take his defeat?\u201d\n\n\u201cBadly, poor fellow, I am told; indeed, from what I see of him, I am\nsure of it. They tell me that up to lately he was a bright, happy\nfellow, but now he is a stern, hard-faced, scowling man; essentially\na man with a grievance, which makes him take a jaundiced view of\neverything else. The only one who is not afraid to speak to him is his\ndaughter, and they are inseparable. It certainly is cruelly hard on\nhim. His farm is almost an ideal one for this part of the world; it has\ngood soil, water, shelter, trees, everything that makes a farm pretty\nand comfortable, as well as being good for farming purposes; and he has\nto change it for a piece of land as irregular in shape as the other is\ncompact; without shelter, and partly taken up with this very bog and\nthe utter waste and chaos which, when it shifted in former times, it\nleft behind.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how does the other, Murdock, act?\u201d\n\n\u201cShamefully; I feel so angry with him at times that I could strike him.\nThere is not a thing he can say or do, or leave unsaid or undone, that\nis not aggravating and insulting to his neighbour. Only that he had the\nprecaution to bind me to an agreement for a given time I\u2019m blessed if\nI would work for him, or with him at all\u2014interesting as the work is in\nitself, and valuable as is the opportunity it gives me of studying that\nstrange phenomenon, the shifting bog.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is your work with him?\u201d I asked: \u201cmining or draining, or what?\u201d\n\nHe seemed embarrassed at my question. He \u2018\u2019hum\u2019d and \u2019ha\u2019d\u2019\u2014then with\na smile he said quite frankly:\u2014\n\n\u201cThe fact is that I am not at liberty to say. The worthy Gombeen Man\nput a special clause in our agreement that I was not during the time of\nmy engagement to mention to any one the object of my work. He wanted\nthe clause to run that I was never to mention it; but I kicked at that,\nand only signed in the modified form.\u201d\n\nI thought to myself \u201cmore mysteries at Shleenanaher!\u201d Dick went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cHowever, I have no doubt that you will very soon gather the object for\nyourself. You are yourself something of a scientist, if I remember?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot me!\u201d I answered. \u201cMy Great Aunt took care of that when she sent\nme to our old tutor. Or, indeed, to do the old boy justice, he tried\nto teach me something of the kind; but I found out it wasn\u2019t my vogue.\nAnyhow, I haven\u2019t done anything lately.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow do you mean?\u201d\n\n\u201cI haven\u2019t got over being idle yet. It\u2019s not a year since I came into\nmy fortune. Perhaps\u2014indeed I hope\u2014that I may settle down to work again.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sure I hope so, too, old fellow,\u201d he answered gravely. \u201cWhen a man\nhas once tasted the pleasure of real work, especially work that taxes\nthe mind and the imagination, the world seems only a poor place without\nit.\u201d\n\n\u201cLike the wurrld widout girruls for me, or widout bog for his \u2019an\u2019r!\u201d\nsaid Andy, grinning as he turned round on his seat.\n\nDick Sutherland, I was glad to see, did not suspect the joke. He took\nAndy\u2019s remark quite seriously, and said to me:\u2014\n\n\u201cMy dear fellow, it is delightful to find you so interested in my own\ntopic.\u201d\n\nI could not allow him to think me a savant. In the first place he would\nvery soon find me out, and would then suspect my motives ever after.\nAnd again, I had to accept Andy\u2019s statement, or let it appear that I\nhad some other reason or motive\u2014or what would seem even more suspicious\nstill, none at all; so I answered:\u2014\n\n\u201cMy dear Dick, my zeal regarding bog is new; it is at present in its\nincipient stage in so far as erudition is concerned. The fact is, that\nalthough I would like to learn a lot about it, I am at the present\nmoment profoundly ignorant on the subject.\u201d\n\n\u201cLike the rest of mankind!\u201d said Dick. \u201cYou will hardly believe that\nalthough the subject is one of vital interest to thousands of persons\nin our own country\u2014one in which national prosperity is mixed up to\na large extent\u2014one which touches deeply the happiness and material\nprosperity of a large section of Irish people, and so helps to mould\ntheir political action, there are hardly any works on the subject in\nexistence.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely you are mistaken,\u201d I answered.\n\n\u201cNo! unfortunately, I am not. There is a Danish book, but it is\ngeographically local; and some information can be derived from the\nBlue Book containing the report of the International Commission on\nturf-cutting, but the special authorities are scant indeed. Some day,\nwhen you want occupation, just you try to find in any library, in any\ncity of the world, any works of a scientific character devoted to the\nsubject. Nay more! try to find a fair share of chapters in scientific\nbooks devoted to it. You can imagine how devoid of knowledge we are,\nwhen I tell you that even the last edition of the \u2018Enclycop\u00e6dia\nBritannica\u2019 does not contain the heading \u2019bog.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cYou amaze me!\u201d was all I could say.\n\nThen as we bumped and jolted over the rough by-road Dick Sutherland\ngave me a rapid but masterly survey of the condition of knowledge on\nthe subject of bogs, with special application to Irish bogs, beginning\nwith such records as those of Giraldus Cambrensis\u2014of Dr. Boate\u2014of\nEdmund Spenser\u2014from the time of the first invasion when the state of\nthe land was such that, as is recorded, when a spade was driven into\nthe ground a pool of water gathered forthwith. He told me of the extent\nand nature of the bog-lands\u2014of the means taken to reclaim them, and of\nhis hopes of some heroic measures being ultimately taken by Government\nto reclaim the vast Bog of Allen which remains as a great evidence of\nofficial ineptitude.\n\n\u201cIt will be something,\u201d he said, \u201cto redeem the character for\nindifference to such matters so long established, as when Mr. King\nwrote two hundred years ago, \u2018We live in an Island almost infamous\nfor bogs, and yet, I do not remember, that any one has attempted much\nconcerning them.\u2019\u201d We were close to Knockcalltecrore when he finished\nhis impromptu lecture thus:\u2014\n\n\u201cIn fine, we cure bog by both a surgical and a medical process. We\ndrain it so that its mechanical action as a sponge may be stopped, and\nwe put in lime to kill the vital principle of its growth. Without the\nother, neither process is sufficient; but together, scientific and\nexecutive man asserts his dominance.\u201d\n\n\u201cHear! hear!\u201d said Andy. \u201cMusha, but Docther Wilde himself, Rest his\nsowl! couldn\u2019t have put it aisier to grip. It\u2019s a purfessionaler the\nyoung gintleman is intirely!\u201d\n\nWe shortly arrived at the south side of the western slope of the hill,\nand as Andy took care to inform me, at the end of the boreen leading to\nthe two farms, and close to the head of the Snake\u2019s Pass.\n\nAccordingly, I let Sutherland start on his way to Murdock\u2019s, whilst I\nmyself strolled away to the left, where Andy had pointed out to me,\nrising over the slope of the intervening spur of the hill, the top of\none of the rocks which formed the Snake\u2019s Pass. After a few minutes of\nclimbing up a steep slope, and down a steeper one, I arrived at the\nplace itself.\n\nFrom the first moment that my eyes lit on it, it seemed to me to be a\nvery remarkable spot, and quite worthy of being taken as the scene of\nstrange stories, for it certainly had something \u2018uncanny\u2019 about it.\n\nI stood in a deep valley, or rather bowl, with behind me a remarkably\nsteep slope of green sward, whilst on either hand the sides of the\nhollow rose steeply\u2014that on the left, down which I had climbed, being\nby far the steeper and rockier of the two. In front was the Pass itself.\n\nIt was a gorge or cleft through a great wall of rock, which rose on\nthe seaside of the promontory formed by the hill. This natural wall,\nexcept at the actual Pass itself, rose some fifty or sixty feet over\nthe summit of the slope on either side of the little valley; but right\nand left of the Pass rose two great masses of rock, like the pillars\nof a giant gateway. Between these lay the narrow gorge, with its\nwalls of rock rising sheer some two hundred feet. It was about three\nhundred feet long, and widened slightly outward, being shaped something\nfunnel-wise, and on the inner side was about a hundred feet wide. The\nfloor did not go so far as the flanking rocks, but, at about two-thirds\nof its length, there was a perpendicular descent, like a groove cut in\nthe rock, running sheer down to the sea, some three hundred feet below,\nand as far under it as we could see. From the northern of the flanking\nrocks which formed the Pass the rocky wall ran northwards, completely\nsheltering the lower lands from the west, and running into a towering\nrock that rose on the extreme north, and which stood up in jagged peaks\nsomething like \u201cThe Needles\u201d off the coast of the Isle of Wight.\n\nThere was no doubt that poor Joyce\u2019s farm, thus sheltered, was an\nexceptionally favoured spot, and I could well understand how loth he\nmust be to leave it.\n\nMurdock\u2019s land, even under the enchantment of its distance, seemed\nvery different, and was just as bleak as Sutherland had told me. Its\nsouth-western end ran down towards the Snake\u2019s Pass. I mounted the wall\nof rock on the north of the Pass to look down, and was surprised to\nfind that down below me was the end of a large plateau of some acres\nin extent which ran up northward, and was sheltered north and west by\na somewhat similar formation of rock to that which protected Joyce\u2019s\nland. This, then, was evidently the place called the \u201cCliff Fields\u201d of\nwhich mention had been made at Widow Kelligan\u2019s.\n\nThe view from where I stood was one of ravishing beauty. Westward in\nthe deep sea, under grey clouds of endless variety, rose a myriad of\nclustering islets, some of them covered with grass and heather, where\ncattle and sheep grazed; others were mere rocks rising boldly from the\ndepths of the sea, and surrounded by a myriad of screaming wild-fowl.\nAs the birds dipped and swept and wheeled in endless circles, their\nwhite breasts and grey wings varying in infinite phase of motion\u2014and\nas the long Atlantic swell, tempered by its rude shocks on the outer\nfringe of islets, broke in fleecy foam and sent living streams through\nthe crevices of the rocks and sheets of white water over the boulders\nwhere the sea rack rose and fell, I thought that the earth could give\nnothing more lovely or more grand.\n\nAndy\u2019s voice beside me grated on me unpleasantly:\u2014\n\n\u201cMusha! but it\u2019s the fine sight it is entirely; it only wants wan\nthing.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat does it want?\u201d I asked, rather shortly.\n\n\u201cBegor, a bit of bog to put your arrum around while ye\u2019re lukin\u2019 at\nit,\u201d and he grinned at me knowingly.\n\nHe was incorrigible. I jumped down from the rock and scrambled into\nthe boreen. My friend Sutherland had gone on his way to Murdock\u2019s, so\ncalling to Andy to wait till I returned, I followed him.\n\nI hurried up the boreen and caught up with him, for his progress was\nslow along the rough laneway. In reality I felt that it would be far\nless awkward having him with me; but I pretended that my only care was\nfor his sprained ankle. Some emotions make hypocrites of us all!\n\nWith Dick on my arm limping along we passed up the boreen, leaving\nJoyce\u2019s house on our left. I looked out anxiously in case I should see\nJoyce\u2014or his daughter; but there was no sign of anyone about. In a few\nminutes Dick, pausing for a moment, pointed out to me the shifting bog.\n\n\u201cYou see,\u201d he said, \u201cthose two poles? the line between them marks\nthe mearing of the two lands. We have worked along the bog down from\nthere.\u201d He pointed as he spoke to some considerable distance up the\nhill to the north where the bog began to be dangerous, and where it\ncurved around the base of a grassy mound, or shoulder of the mountain.\n\n\u201cIs it a dangerous bog?\u201d I queried.\n\n\u201cRather! It is just as bad a bit of soft bog as ever I saw. I wouldn\u2019t\nlike to see anyone or anything that I cared for try to cross it!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy not?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause at any moment they might sink through it; and then,\ngood-bye\u2014no human strength or skill could ever save them.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs it a quagmire, then? or like a quicksand?\u201d\n\n\u201cLike either, or both. Nay! it is more treacherous than either. You may\ncall it, if you are poetically inclined, a \u2018carpet of death!\u2019 What you\nsee is simply a film or skin of vegetation of a very low kind, mixed\nwith the mould of decayed vegetable fibre and grit and rubbish of all\nkinds which have somehow got mixed into it, floating on a sea of ooze\nand slime\u2014of something half liquid half solid, and of an unknown depth.\nIt will bear up a certain weight, for there is a degree of cohesion in\nit; but it is not all of equal cohesive power, and if one were to step\non the wrong spot\u2014\u201d He was silent.\n\n\u201cWhat then?\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly a matter of specific gravity! A body suddenly immersed would,\nwhen the air of the lungs had escaped and the _rigor mortis_ had set\nin, probably sink a considerable distance; then it would rise after\nnine days, when decomposition began to generate gases, and make an\neffort to reach the top. Not succeeding in this, it would ultimately\nwaste away, and the bones would become incorporated with the existing\nvegetation somewhere about the roots, or would lie among the slime at\nthe bottom.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said I, \u201cfor real cold-blooded horror, commend me to your men\nof science.\u201d\n\nThis passage brought us to the door of Murdock\u2019s house\u2014a plain,\nstrongly-built cottage, standing on a knoll of rock that cropped up\nfrom the plateau round it. It was surrounded with a garden hedged in by\na belt of pollard ash and stunted alders.\n\nMurdock had evidently been peering surreptitiously through the window\nof his sitting-room, for as we passed in by the gate he came out to the\nporch. His salutation was not an encouraging one:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re somethin\u2019 late this mornin\u2019, Mr. Sutherland. I hope ye didn\u2019t\nthrouble to delay in ordher to bring up this sthrange gintleman. Ye\nknow how particular I am about any wan knowin\u2019 aught of me affairs.\u201d\n\nDick flushed up to the roots of his hair, and, much to my surprise,\nburst out quite in a passionate way:\u2014\n\n\u201cLook you here, Mr. Murdock, I\u2019m not going to take any cheek from\nyou, so don\u2019t you give any. Of course I don\u2019t expect a fellow of your\nstamp to understand a gentleman\u2019s feelings\u2014damn it! how can you have a\ngentleman\u2019s understanding when you haven\u2019t even a man\u2019s? You ought to\nknow right well that what I said I would do, I shall do. I despise you\nand your miserable secrets and your miserable trickery too much to take\nto myself anything in which they have a part; but when I bring with me\na friend, but for whom I shouldn\u2019t have been here at all\u2014for I couldn\u2019t\nhave walked\u2014I expect that neither he nor I shall be insulted. For two\npins I\u2019d not set foot on your dirty ground again!\u201d\n\nHere Murdock interrupted him:\u2014\n\n\u201cAisy now! ye\u2019re undher agreement to me; an\u2019 I hould ye to it.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you can, you miserable scoundrel, because you know I shall keep my\nword; but remember that I expect proper treatment; and remember, too,\nthat if I want an assistant I am to have one.\u201d\n\nAgain Murdock interrupted\u2014but this time much more soothingly:\n\n\u201cAisy! Aisy! haven\u2019t I done every livin\u2019 thing ye wanted\u2014and helped ye\nmeself every time? Sure arn\u2019t I yer assistant?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, because you\u2014you wanted to get something, and couldn\u2019t do without\nme. And mind this! you can\u2019t do without me yet. But be so good as to\nremember that I choose my own assistant; and I shall not choose you\nunless I like. You can keep me here, and pay me for staying as we\nagreed; but don\u2019t you think that I could fool you if I would?\u201d\n\n\u201cYe wouldn\u2019t do that, I know\u2014an\u2019 me thrusted ye!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou trusted me! you miserable wretch\u2014yes! you trusted me by a deed,\nsigned, sealed, and delivered. I don\u2019t owe you anything for that.\u201d\n\n\u201cMr. Sutherland, sir! ye\u2019re too sharp wid me. Yer frind is very\nwelkim. Do what you like\u2014go where you choose\u2014bring whom you will\u2014only\nget on wid the worrk and kape it saycret.\u201d\n\n\u201cAye!\u201d sneered Dick, \u201cyou are ready to climb down because you want\nsomething done, and you know that this is the last day for work on this\nside of the hill. Well, let me tell you this\u2014for you\u2019ll do anything for\ngreed\u2014that you and I together, doing all we can, shall not be able to\ncover all the ground. I haven\u2019t said a word to my friend\u2014and I don\u2019t\nknow how he will take any request from you after your impudence; but he\nis my friend, and a clever man, and if you ask him nicely, perhaps he\nwill be good enough to stay and lend us a hand.\u201d\n\nThe man made me a low bow and asked me in suitable terms if I would\nkindly stop part of the day and help in the work. Needless to say I\nacquiesced. Murdock eyed me keenly, as though to make up his mind\nwhether or no I recollected him\u2014he evidently remembered me\u2014but I\naffected ignorance, and he seemed satisfied. I was glad to notice that\nthe blow of Joyce\u2019s riding switch still remained across his face as\na livid scar. He went away to get the appliances ready for work, in\nobedience to a direction from Sutherland.\n\n\u201cOne has to cut that hound\u2019s corns rather roughly,\u201d said the latter,\nwith a nice confusion of metaphors, as soon as Murdock had disappeared.\n\nDick then told me that his work was to make magnetic experiments to\nascertain, if possible, if there was any iron hidden in the ground.\n\n\u201cThe idea,\u201d he said, \u201cis Murdock\u2019s own, and I have neither lot nor part\nin it. My work is simply to carry out his ideas, with what mechanical\nskill I can command, and to invent or arrange such appliances as he\nmay want. Where his theories are hopelessly wrong, I point this out to\nhim, but he goes on or stops just as he chooses. You can imagine that a\nfellow of his low character is too suspicious to ever take a hint from\nany one! We have been working for three weeks past, and have been all\nover the solid ground, and are just finishing the bog.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow did you first come across him?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u201cVery nearly a month ago he called on me in Dublin, having been sent by\nold Gascoigne, of the College of Science. He wanted me to search for\niron on his property. I asked if it was regarding opening mines? he\nsaid, \u2018no, just to see if there should be any old iron lying about.\u2019 As\nhe offered me excellent terms for my time, I thought he must have some\ngood\u2014or rather I should say some strong motive. I know now, though he\nhas never told me, that he is trying for the money that is said to have\nbeen lost and buried here by the French after Humbert\u2019s expedition to\nKillala.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow do you work?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u201cThe simplest thing in the world; just carry about a strong magnet\u2014only\nwe have to do it systematically.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd have you found anything as yet?\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly old scraps\u2014horseshoes, nails, buckles, buttons; our most\nimportant find was the tire of a wheel. The old Gombeen thought he had\nit that time!\u201d and Dick laughed.\n\n\u201cHow did you manage the bog?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is the only difficult part; we have poles on opposite sides of\nthe bog with lines between them. The magnet is fixed, suspended from a\nfree wheel, and I let it down to the centre from each side in turn. If\nthere were any attraction I should feel it by the thread attached to\nthe magnet which I hold in my hand.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is something like fishing?\u201d\n\n\u201cExactly.\u201d\n\nMurdoch now returned and told us that he was ready, so we all went\nto work. I kept with Sutherland at the far side of the bog, Murdoch\nremaining on the near side. We planted or rather placed a short stake\nin the solid ground, as close as we could get it to the bog, and\nsteadied it with a guy from the top; the latter I held, whilst Murdoch,\non the other side, fulfilled a similar function. A thin wire connected\nthe two stakes; on this Sutherland now fixed the wheel, from which the\nmagnet depended. On each side we deflected the stake until the magnet\nalmost touched the surface of the bog. After a few minutes\u2019 practice\nI got accustomed to the work, and acquired sufficient dexterity to be\nable to allow the magnet to run freely. Inch by inch we went over the\nsurface of the bog, moving slightly to the south-west each time we\nshifted, following the edges of the bog. Every little while Dick had to\nchange sides, so as to cover the whole extent of the bog, and when he\ncame round again had to go back to where he had last stopped on the\nsame side.\n\nAll this made the process very tedious, and the day was drawing to a\nclose when we neared the posts set up to mark the bounds of the two\nlands. Several times during the day Joyce had come up from his cottage\nand inspected our work, standing at his own side of the post. He looked\nat me closely, but did not seem to recognize me. I nodded to him once,\nbut he did not seem to see my salutation, and I did not repeat it.\n\nAll day long I never heard the sweet voice; and as we returned to\nCarnaclif after a blank day\u2014blank in every sense of the word\u2014the air\nseemed chiller and the sunset less beautiful than before. The last\nwords I heard on the mountain were from Murdock:\u2014\n\n\u201cNothin\u2019 to-morrow, Mr. Sutherland! I\u2019ve a flittin\u2019 to make, but I pay\nthe day all the same; I hould ye to your conthract. An\u2019 remember, surr,\nwe\u2019re in no hurry wid the wurrk now, so ye\u2019ll not need help any more.\u201d\n\nAndy made no remark till we were well away from the hill, and then\nsaid, dryly:\u2014\n\n\u201cI\u2019m afeerd yer \u2019an\u2019r has had but a poor day; ye luk as if ye hadn\u2019t\nseen a bit iv bog at all, at all. Gee up, ye ould Corncrake! the\ngintlemin does be hurryin\u2019 home fur their tay, an\u2019 fur more wurrk wid\nbogs to-morra!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER V.\n\n                            ON KNOCKNACAR.\n\n\nWhen Sutherland and I had finished dinner that evening we took up the\nsubject of bogs where we had left it in the morning. This was rather\na movement of my own making, for I felt an awkwardness about touching\non the special subject of the domestic relations of the inhabitants of\nKnockcalltecrore. After several interesting remarks, Dick said:\u2014\n\n\u201cThere is one thing that I wish to investigate thoroughly, the\ncorrelation of bog and special geological formations.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor instance?\u201d said I.\n\n\u201cWell, specially with regard to limestone. Just at this part of the\ncountry I find it almost impossible to pursue the investigation any\nmore than Van Troil could have pursued snake studies in Iceland.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs there no limestone at all in this part of the country?\u201d I queried.\n\n\u201cOh yes, in lots of places, but as yet I have not been able to find\nany about here. I say \u2018as yet\u2019 on purpose, because it seems to me that\nthere must be some on Knockcalltecrore.\u201d\n\nNeedless to say the conversation here became to me much more\ninteresting; Dick went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cThe main feature of the geological formation of all this part of the\ncountry is the vast amount of slate and granite, either in isolated\npatches or lying side by side. And as there are instances of limestone\nfound in quaint ways, I am not without hopes that we may yet find the\nsame phenomenon.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere do you find the instances of these limestone formations?\u201d I\nqueried, for I felt that as he was bound to come back to, or towards\nShleenanaher, I could ease my own mind by pretending to divert his from\nit.\n\n\u201cWell, as one instance, I can give you the Corrib River\u2014the stream that\ndrains Lough Corrib into Galway Bay; in fact, the river on which the\ntown of Galway is built. At one place one side of the stream all is\ngranite, and the other is all limestone; I believe the river runs over\nthe union of the two formations. Now, if there should happen to be a\nsimilar formation, even in the least degree, at Knockcalltecrore, it\nwill be a great thing.\n\n\u201cWhy will it be a great thing?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u201cBecause there is no lime near the place at all; because with limestone\non the spot a hundred things could be done that, as things are at\npresent, would not repay the effort. With limestone we could reclaim\nthe bogs cheaply all over the neighbourhood\u2014in fact a lime-kiln there\nwould be worth a small fortune. We could build walls in the right\nplaces; I can see how a lovely little harbour could be made there at a\nsmall expense. And then beyond all else would be the certainty\u2014which\nis at present in my mind only a hope or a dream\u2014that we could fathom\nthe secret of the shifting bog, and perhaps abolish or reclaim it.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is exceedingly interesting,\u201d said I, as I drew my chair closer.\nAnd I only spoke the exact truth, for at that moment I had no other\nthought in my mind. \u201cDo you mind telling me more, Dick? I suppose you\nare not like Lamb\u2019s Scotchman that will not broach a half-formed idea!\u201d\n\n\u201cNot the least in the world. It will be a real pleasure to have such a\ngood listener. To begin at the beginning, I was much struck with that\nold cavity on the top of the hill. It is one of the oddest things I\nhave ever seen or heard of. If it were in any other place or amongst\nany other geological formation I would think its origin must have been\nvolcanic. But here such a thing is quite impossible. It was evidently\nonce a lake.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo goes the legend. I suppose you have heard it?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes! and it rather confirms my theory. Legends have always a base in\nfact; and whatever cause gave rise to the myth of St. Patrick and the\nKing of the Snakes, the fact remains that the legend is correct in at\nleast one particular\u2014that at some distant time there was a lake or pond\non the spot.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you certain?\u201d\n\n\u201cA very cursory glance satisfied me of that. I could not go into\nthe matter thoroughly, for that old wolf of mine was so manifestly\nimpatient that I should get to his wild-goose chase for the lost\ntreasure-chest, that the time and opportunity were wanting. However, I\nsaw quite enough to convince me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, how do you account for the change? What is your theory regarding\nthe existence of limestone?\u201d\n\n\u201cSimply this, that a lake or reservoir on the top of a mountain means\nthe existence of a spring or springs. Now springs in granite or hard\nslate do not wear away the substance of the rock in the same way as\nthey do when they come through limestone. And moreover, the natures of\nthe two rocks are quite different. There are fissures and cavities in\nthe limestone which are wanting, or which are at any rate not so common\nor perpetually recurrent in the other rock. Now if it should be, as I\nsurmise, that the reservoir was ever fed by a spring passing through a\nstreak or bed of limestone, we shall probably find that in the progress\nof time the rock became worn and that the spring found a way in some\nother direction\u2014either some natural passage through a gap or fissure\nalready formed, or by a channel made for itself.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd then?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd then the process is easily understandable. The spring naturally\nsent its waters where there was the least resistance, and they found\ntheir way out on some level lower than the top of the hill. You\nperhaps noticed the peculiar formation of the hill, specially on its\nwest side\u2014great sloping tables of rock suddenly ended by a wall of a\ndifferent stratum\u2014a sort of serrated edge all the way down the inclined\nplane; you could not miss seeing it, for it cuts the view like the\nteeth of a saw! Now if the water, instead of rising to the top and then\ntrickling down the old channel, which is still noticeable, had once\nfound a vent on one of those shelving planes it would gradually fill\nup the whole cavity formed by the two planes, unless in the meantime\nit found some natural escape. As we know, the mountain is covered in\na number of places with a growth or formation of bog, and this water,\nonce accumulating under the bog, would not only saturate it, but would\nraise it\u2014being of less specific gravity than itself\u2014till it actually\nfloated. Given such a state of things as this, it would only require\nsufficient time for the bog to become soft and less cohesive than when\nit was more dry and compact, and you have a dangerous bog, something\nlike the Carpet of Death that we spoke of this morning.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo far I can quite understand.\u201d said I. \u201cBut if this be so, how can\nthe bog shift as this one has undoubtedly done? It seems, so far, to be\nhedged with walls of rock. Surely these cannot move.\u201d\n\nSutherland smiled. \u201cI see you do apprehend! Now we are at the second\nstage. Did you notice as we went across the hill side that there were\ndistinct beds or banks of clay?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly! do they come in?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course! If my theory is correct, the shifting is due to them.\u201d\n\n\u201cExplain!\u201d\n\n\u201cSo far as I can. But here I am only on surmise, or theory pure and\nsimple. I may be all wrong, or I may be right\u2014I shall know more before\nI am done with Shleenanaher. My theory is that the shifting is due to\nthe change in the beds of clay, as for instance by rains washing them\nby degrees to lower levels\u2014this is notably the case in that high clay\nbank just opposite the Snake\u2019s Pass. The rocks are fixed, and so the\nclay becomes massed in banks between them, perhaps aided in the first\ninstance by trees falling across the chasm or opening. But then the\nperpetually accumulating water from the spring has to find a way of\nescape; and as it cannot cut through the rock it rises to the earth\nbed, till it either tops the bed of clay which confines it or finds a\ngap or fissure through which it can escape. In either case it makes\na perpetually deepening channel for itself, for the soft clay yields\nlittle by little to the stream passing over it, and so the surface\nof the outer level falls, and the water escapes, to perhaps find new\nreservoirs ready made to receive it, and a similar process as before\ntakes place.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen the bog extends and the extended part takes the place of the old\nbog which gradually drains.\u201d\n\n\u201cJust so! but such would of course depend on the level; there might\nbe two or more reservoirs, each with a deep bottom of its own and\nunited only near the surface; or if the bank or bed of clay lay on the\nsurface of one shelving rock, the water would naturally drain to the\nlowest point and the upper land would be shallow in proportion.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d I ventured to remark, \u201cif this be so, one of two things must\nhappen; either the water would wear away the clay so quickly, that the\naccumulation would not be dangerous, or else the process would be a\nvery gradual one, and would not be attended with such results as we\nare told of. There would be a change in the position of the bog, but\nthere would not be the upheaval and complete displacement and chaos\nthat I have heard of, for instance, with regard to this very bog of\nKnockcalltecrore.\n\n\u201cYour \u2018if\u2019 is a great peacemaker! If what I have supposed were all,\nthen the result would be as you have said; but there are lots of other\nsupposes; as yet we have only considered one method of change. Suppose,\nfor instance, that the water found a natural means of escape\u2014as, for\ninstance, where this very bog sends a stream over the rocks into the\nCliff Fields\u2014it would not attack the clay bed at all, unless under\nsome unusual pressure. Then suppose that when such pressure had come\nthe water did not rise and top the clay bed, but that it found a\nsmall fissure part of the way down. Suppose there were several such\nreservoirs as I have mentioned\u2014and from the formation of the ground I\nthink it very likely, for in several places jutting rocks from either\nside come close together, and suggest a sort of gap or canon in the\nrock formation, easily forming it into a reservoir. Then if the barrier\nbetween the two upper ones were to be weakened, and a sudden weight of\nwater were to be thrown on the lower wall; suppose such wall were to\npartially collapse, and bring down, say, a clay bank, which would make\na temporary barrier loftier than any yet existing, but only temporary;\nsuppose that the quick accumulation of waters behind this barrier\nlifted the whole mass of water and slime and bog to its utmost height.\nThen, when such obstruction had been reached, the whole lower barrier,\nweakened by infiltration and attacked with sudden and new force, would\ngive way at once, and the stream, kept down from above by the floating\nbog, would force its way along the bed rock and lift the whole spongy\nmass resting on it. Then with this new extent of bog suddenly saturated\nand weakened\u2014demoralized as it were\u2014and devoid of resisting power,\nthe whole floating mass of the upper bog might descend on it, mingle\nwith it, become incorporated with its semi-fluid substance, and form a\nnew and dangerous quagmire incapable of sustaining solid weight, but\nleaving behind on the higher level only the refuse and sediment of its\nformer existence\u2014all the rubble and grit too heavy to float, and which\nwould gradually settle down on the upper bed rock.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, Dick, you put it most graphically. What a terrible thing it\nwould be to live on the line of such a change.\u201d\n\n\u201cTerrible, indeed! At such a moment a house in the track of the\nmovement\u2014unless it were built on the rock\u2014would go down like a ship in\na storm. Go down solid and in a moment, without warning and without\nhope!\u201d\n\n\u201cThen with such a neighbour as a shifting bog, the only safe place\nfor a house would be on a rock.\u201d\u2014Before my eyes, as I spoke, rose the\nvision of Murdock\u2019s house, resting on its knoll of rock, and I was glad\nfor one reason that there, at least, would be safety for Joyce\u2014and his\ndaughter.\n\n\u201cExactly! Now Murdock\u2019s house is as safe as a church. I must look at\nhis new house when I go up to-morrow.\u201d\n\nAs I really did not care about Murdock\u2019s future, I asked no further\nquestions; so we sat in silence and smoked in the gathering twilight.\n\nThere was a knock at the door. I called \u201cCome in.\u201d The door opened\nslowly, and through a narrow opening Andy\u2019s shock head presented itself.\n\n\u201cCome in, Andy!\u201d said Dick. \u201cCome here and try if you can manage a\nglass of punch!\u201d\n\n\u201cBegor!\u201d was Andy\u2019s sole expression of acquiescence. The punch was\nbrewed and handed to him.\n\n\u201cIs that as good as Widow Kelligan\u2019s?\u201d I asked him. Andy grinned:\u2014\n\n\u201cAll punch is good, yer \u2019an\u2019rs. Here\u2019s both yer good healths, an\u2019\nhere\u2019s \u2018The Girls\u2019 an\u2019\u201d\u2014turning to me, \u201c\u2018the Bog.\u2019\u201d He winked, threw up\nhis hand\u2014and put down the empty glass. \u201cGlory be to God\u201d was his grace\nafter\u2014drink.\n\n\u201cWell, Andy! what is it?\u201d said Dick.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve heerd,\u201d said he, \u201cthat yer \u2019an\u2019rs isn\u2019t goin\u2019 in the mornin\u2019 to\nShleenanaher, and I thought that yez couldn\u2019t do betther nor dhrive\nover to Knocknacar to-morra an\u2019 spind the day there.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd why Knocknacar?\u201d said I.\n\nAndy twirled his cap between his hands in a sheepish way. I felt that\nhe was acting a part, but could not see any want of reality. With a\nlittle hesitation he said:\u2014\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve gother from what yer \u2019an\u2019rs wor sayin\u2019 on the car this mornin\u2019,\nthat yez is both intherested in bogs\u2014an\u2019 there\u2019s the beautifulest bit\niv bog in all the counthry there beyant. An\u2019, moreover, it\u2019s a lovely\nshpot intirely. If you gintlemin have nothin\u2019 betther to do, ye\u2019d\ndhrive over there\u2014if ye\u2019d take me advice.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat kind of bog is it, Andy?\u201d said Dick. \u201cIs there anythin\u2019 peculiar\nabout it. Does it shift?\u201d\n\nAndy grinned a most unaccountable grin:\u2014\n\n\u201cBegor, it does, surr!\u201d he answered quickly. \u201cSure all bogs does\nshift!\u201d And he grinned again.\n\n\u201cAndy,\u201d said Dick, laughing, \u201cyou have some joke in your mind. What is\nit?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, sorra wan, surr\u2014ask the masther there.\u201d\n\nAs it did not need a surgical operation to get the joke intended\ninto the head of a man\u2014of whatever nationality\u2014who understood Andy\u2019s\nallusion, and as I did not want to explain it, I replied:\u2014\n\n\u201cOh, don\u2019t ask me, Andy; I\u2019m no authority on the subject,\u201d and I\nlooked rather angrily at him, when Dick was not looking.\n\nAndy hastened to put matters right\u2014he evidently did not want to lose\nhis day\u2019s hire on the morrow:\u2014\n\n\u201cYer \u2019an\u2019rs! ye may take me wurrd for it\u2014there\u2019s a bog beyant at\nKnocknacar which\u2019ll intherest yez intirely\u2014I remimber it meself a lot\nhigher up the mountain whin I was a spalpeen\u2014an\u2019 it\u2019s been crawlin\u2019\ndown iver since. It\u2019s a mighty quare shpot intirely!\u201d\n\nThis settled the matter, and we arranged forthwith to start early on\nthe following morning for Knocknacar, Andy, before he left, having a\nnightcap\u2014out of a tumbler.\n\nWe were astir fairly early in the morning, and having finished a\nbreakfast sufficiently substantial to tide us over till dinner time, we\nstarted on our journey. The mare was in good condition for work, the\nroad was level and the prospect fine, and altogether we enjoyed our\ndrive immensely. As we looked back we could see Knockcalltecrore rising\non the edge of the coast away to our right, and seemingly surrounded by\na network of foam-girt islands, for a breeze was blowing freshly from\nthe south-west.\n\nAt the foot of the mountain\u2014or rather, hill\u2014there was a small,\nclean-looking sheebeen. Here Andy stopped and put up the mare; then he\nbrought us up a narrow lane bounded by thick hedges of wild briar to\nwhere we could see the bog which was the object of our visit. Dick\u2019s\nfoot was still painful, so I had to give him an arm, as on yesterday.\nWe crossed over two fields, from which the stones had been collected\nand placed in heaps. The land was evidently very rocky, for here and\nthere\u2014more especially in the lower part\u2014the grey rock cropped up in\nplaces. At the top of the farthest field, Andy pointed out an isolated\nrock rising sharply from the grass.\n\n\u201cLook there, yer \u2019an\u2019rs; whin I remimber first, that rock was as far\naff from the bog as we are now from the boreen\u2014an\u2019 luk at it now! why,\nthe bog is close to it, so it is.\u201d He then turned and looked at a small\nheap of stones. \u201cMurther! but there is a quare thing. Why that heap,\nnot a year ago, was as high as the top iv that rock. Begor, it\u2019s bein\u2019\nburied, it is!\u201d\n\nDick looked quite excited as he turned to me and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhy, Art, old fellow! here is the very thing we were talking about.\nThis bog is an instance of the gradual changing of the locality of\na bog by the filtration of its water through the clay beds resting\non the bed-rock. I wonder if the people here will let me make some\ninvestigations! Andy, who owns this land?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I can tell yer \u2019an\u2019r that well enough; it\u2019s Misther Moriarty from\nKnockaltecrore. Him, surr,\u201d turning to me, \u201cthat ye seen at Widda\nKelligan\u2019s that night in the shtorm.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoes he farm it himself?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, surr\u2014me father rints it. The ould mare was riz on this very\nshpot.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you think your father will let me make some investigations here, if\nI get Mr. Moriarty\u2019s permission also?\u201d\n\n\u201cThroth, an\u2019 he will, surr\u2014wid all the plisure in life\u2014iv coorse,\u201d\nhe added, with native shrewdness, \u201cif there\u2019s no harrum done to his\nland\u2014or, if there\u2019s harrum done, it\u2019s ped for.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right, Andy,\u201d said I; \u201cI\u2019ll be answerable for that part of it.\u201d\n\nWe went straight away with Andy to see the elder Sullivan. We found him\nin his cabin at the foot of the hill\u2014a hale old man of nearly eighty,\nwith all his senses untouched, and he was all that could be agreeable.\nI told him who I was, and that I could afford to reimburse him if any\ndamage should be done. Dick explained to him that, so far from doing\nharm, what he would do would probably prevent the spreading of the bog,\nand would in such case much enhance the value of his holding, and in\naddition give him the use of a spring on his land. Accordingly we went\nback to make further investigations. Dick had out his note-book in an\ninstant, and took accurate note of everything; he measured and probed\nthe earth, tapped the rocks with the little geological hammer which he\nalways carried, and finally set himself down to make an accurate map\nof the locality, I acting as his assistant in the measurements. Andy\nleft us for a while, but presently appeared, hot and flushed. As he\napproached, Dick observed:\u2014\n\n\u201cAndy has been drinking the health of all his relatives. We must keep\nhim employed here, or we may get a spill going home.\u201d\n\nThe object of his solicitude came and sat on a rock beside us, and\nlooked on. Presently he came over, and said to Dick:\u2014\n\n\u201cYer \u2019an\u2019r, can I help ye in yer wurrk? Sure, if ye only want wan hand\nto help ye, mayhap mine id do. An\u2019 thin his \u2019an\u2019r here might hop up to\nthe top iv the mountain; there\u2019s a mighty purty view there intirely,\nan\u2019 he could enjoy it, though ye can\u2019t get up wid yer lame fut.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood idea!\u201d said Dick. \u201cYou go up on top, Art. This is very dull work,\nand Andy can hold the tape for me as well as you or anyone else. You\ncan tell me all about it when you come down.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo, yer \u2019an\u2019r. Tell him all ye see!\u201d said Andy, as I prepared to\nascend. \u201cIf ye go up soft be the shady parts, mayhap ye\u2019d shtrike\nanother bit of bog be the way.\u201d\n\nI had grown so suspicious of Andy\u2019s _double entente_, that I looked at\nhim keenly, to see if there was any fresh joke on; but his face was\nimmovably grave, and he was seemingly intent on the steel tape which he\nwas holding.\n\nI proceeded up the mountain. It was a very pleasant one to climb, or\nrather to ascend, for it was nearly all covered with grass. Here and\nthere, on the lower half, were clumps of stunted trees, all warped\neastwards by the prevailing westerly wind\u2014alders, mountain-ash, and\nthorn. Higher up these disappeared, but there was still a pleasant\nsprinkling of hedgerows. As the verdure grew on the south side higher\nthan on the north or west, I followed it and drew near the top. As I\ngot closer, I heard some one singing. \u201cBy Jove,\u201d said I to myself, \u201cthe\nwomen of this country have sweet voices!\u201d\u2014indeed, this was by no means\nthe first time I had noticed the fact. I listened, and as I drew nearer\nto the top of the hill, I took care not to make any noise which might\ndisturb the singer. It was an odd sensation to stand in the shadow of\nthe hill-top, on that September day, and listen to _Ave Maria_ sung\nby the unknown voice of an unseen singer. I made a feeble joke all to\nmyself:\u2014\n\n\u201cMy experience of the girls of the West is that of _vox et pr\u00e6terea\nnihil_.\u201d\n\nThere was an infinity of pathos in the voice\u2014some sweet, sad yearning,\nas though the earthly spirit was singing with an unearthly voice\u2014and\nthe idea came on me with a sense of conviction that some deep\nunhappiness underlay that appeal to the Mother of Sorrows. I listened,\nand somehow felt guilty. It almost seemed that I was profaning some\nshrine of womanhood, and I took myself to task severely in something of\nthe following strain:\u2014\n\n\u201cThat poor girl has come to this hill top for solitude. She thinks\nshe is alone with Nature and Nature\u2019s God, and pours forth her soul\nfreely; and you, wretched, tainted man, break in on the sanctity of her\nsolitude\u2014of her prayer. For shame! for shame!\u201d\n\nThen\u2014men are all hypocrites!\u2014I stole guiltily forward to gain a peep\nat the singer who thus communed with Nature and Nature\u2019s God, and the\nsanctity of whose solitude and prayer I was violating.\n\nA tuft of heath grew just at the top; behind this I crouched, and\nparting its luxuriance looked through.\n\nFor my pains I only saw a back, and that back presented in the most\nungainly way of which graceful woman is capable. She was seated on the\nground, not even raised upon a stone. Her knees were raised to the\nlevel of her shoulders, and her outstretched arms confined her legs\nbelow the knees\u2014she was, in fact, in much the same attitude as boys are\nat games of cock-fighting. And yet there was something very touching\nin the attitude\u2014something of self-oblivion so complete that I felt a\nrenewed feeling of guiltiness as an intruder.\u2014Whether her reasons be\n\u00e6sthetic, moral, educational, or disciplinary, no self-respecting woman\never sits in such a manner when a man is by.\n\nThe song died away, and then there was a gulp and a low suppressed\nmoan. Her head drooped between her knees, her shoulders shook, and I\ncould see that she was weeping. I wished to get away, but for a few\nmoments I was afraid to stir lest she should hear me. The solitude,\nnow that the vibration of her song had died out of the air, seemed\noppressive. In those few seconds a new mood seemed to come over her.\nShe suddenly abandoned her dejected position, and, with the grace and\nagility of a young fawn, leaped to her feet. I could see that she was\ntall and exquisitely built, on the slim side\u2014what the French call\n_svelte_. With a grace and pathos which were beyond expression she\nstretched forth her arms towards the sea, as to something that she\nloved, and then, letting them fall by her side, remained in a kind of\nwaking dream.\n\nI slipped away, and when I was well out of sight, ran down the hill\nabout a hundred yards, and then commenced the re-ascent, making a fair\nproportion of noise as I came\u2014now striking at the weeds with my heavy\nstick, now whistling, and again humming a popular air.\n\nWhen I gained the top of the hill I started as though surprised at\nseeing any one, much less a girl, in such a place. I think I acted the\npart well\u2014again I say that at times the hypocrite in us can be depended\nupon! She was looking straight towards me, and certainly, so far as I\ncould tell, took me in good faith. I doffed my hat and made some kind\nof stammering salutation as one would to a stranger\u2014the stammering not\nbeing, of course, in the routine of such occasions, but incidental to\nthe special circumstances. She made me a graceful curtsey, and a blush\noverspread her cheeks. I was afraid to look too hard at her, especially\nat first, lest I should frighten her away, but I stole a glance towards\nher at every moment when I could.\n\nHow lovely she was! I had heard that along the West coast of Ireland\nthere are traces of Spanish blood and Spanish beauty; and here was a\nliving evidence of the truth of the hearsay. Not even at sunset in\nthe parades of Madrid or Seville, could one see more perfect beauty\nof the Spanish type\u2014beauty perhaps all the more perfect for being\ntempered with northern calm. As I said, she was tall and beautifully\nproportioned. Her neck was long and slender, gracefully set in her\nrounded shoulders, and supporting a beautiful head borne with the\nfree grace of the lily on its stem. There is nothing in woman more\ncapable of complete beauty than the head, and, crowned as this head was\nwith a rich mass of hair as black and as glossy as the raven\u2019s wing,\nit was a thing to remember. She wore no bonnet, but a grey homespun\nshawl was thrown loosely over her shoulders; her hair was coiled in\none rich mass at the top and back of her head, and fastened with\nan old-fashioned tortoiseshell comb. Her face was a delicate oval,\nshowing what Rossetti calls \u201cthe pure wide curve from ear to chin.\u201d\nLuxuriant black eyebrows were arched over large black-blue eyes swept\nby curling lashes of extraordinary length, and showed off the beauty of\na rounded, ample forehead\u2014somewhat sunburnt, be it said. The nose was\nstraight and wide between the eyes, with delicate sensitive nostrils;\nthe chin wide and firm, and the mouth full and not small, with lips of\nscarlet, forming a perfect Cupid\u2019s bow, and just sufficiently open to\nshow two rows of small teeth, regular and white as pearls. Her dress\nwas that of a well-to-do peasant\u2014a sort of body or jacket of printed\nchintz over a dress or petticoat of homespun of the shade of crimson\ngiven by a madder dye. The dress was short, and showed trim ankles in\ngrey homespun with pretty feet in thick country-made wide-toed shoes.\nHer hands were shapely, with long fingers, and were very sunburnt and\nmanifestly used to work.\n\nAs she stood there, with the western breeze playing with her dress and\ntossing about the stray ends of her raven tresses, I thought that I\nhad never in my life seen anything so lovely. And yet she was only a\npeasant girl, manifestly and unmistakably, and had no pretence of being\nanything else.\n\nShe was evidently as shy as I was, and for a little while we were\nboth silent. As is usual, the woman was the first to recover her\nself-possession, and whilst I was torturing my brain in vain for proper\nwords to commence a conversation, she remarked:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhat a lovely view there is from here. I suppose, sir, you have never\nbeen on the top of this hill before?\u201d\n\n\u201cNever,\u201d said I, feeling that I was equivocating if not lying. \u201cI had\nno idea that there was anything so lovely here.\u201d I meant this to have a\ndouble meaning, although I was afraid to make it apparent to her. \u201cDo\nyou often come up here?\u201d I continued.\n\n\u201cNot very often. It is quite a long time since I was here last; but the\nview seems fairer and dearer to me every time I come.\u201d As she spoke the\nwords, my memory leaped back to that eloquent gesture as she raised her\narms.\n\nI thought I might as well improve the occasion and lay the foundation\nfor another meeting without giving offence or fright, so I said:\u2014\n\n\u201cThis hill is quite a discovery; and as I am likely to be here in\nthis neighbourhood for some time, I dare say I shall often find myself\nenjoying this lovely view.\u201d\n\nShe made no reply or comment whatever to this statement. I looked over\nthe scene, and it was certainly a fit setting for so lovely a figure;\nbut it was the general beauty of the scene, and not, as had hitherto\nbeen the case, one part of it only that struck my fancy. Away on the\nedge of the coast-line rose Knockcalltecrore; but it somehow looked\nlower than before, and less important. The comparative insignificance\nwas of course due to the fact that I was regarding it from a superior\naltitude, but it seemed to me that it was because it did not now seem\nto interest me so much. That sweet voice through the darkness seemed\nvery far away now\u2014here was a voice as sweet, and in such a habitation!\nThe invisible charm with which Shleenanaher had latterly seemed to hold\nme\u2014or the spell which it had laid upon me, seemed to pass away, and I\nfound myself smiling that I should ever have entertained such an absurd\nidea.\n\nYouth is not naturally stand off, and before many minutes the two\nvisitors to the hill-top had laid aside reserve and were chatting\nfreely. I had many questions to ask of local matters, for I wanted\nto find out what I could of my fair companion without seeming to be\ntoo inquisitive; but she seemed to fight shy of all such topics, and\nwhen we parted my ignorance of her name and surroundings remained as\nprofound as it had been at first. She, however, wanted to know all\nabout London. She knew it only by hearsay; for some of the questions\nwhich she asked me were amazingly simple\u2014manifestly she had something\nof the true peasant belief that London is the only home of luxury,\npower, and learning. She was so frank, however, and made her queries\nwith such a gentle modesty, that something within my heart seemed to\ngrow, and grow; and the conviction was borne upon me that I stood\nbefore my fate. Sir Geraint\u2019s ejaculation rose to my lips:\u2014\n\n    \u201cHere, by God\u2019s rood, is the one maid for me!\u201d\n\nOne thing gave me much delight. The sadness seemed to have passed quite\naway\u2014for the time at all events. Her eyes, which had at the first been\nglassy with recent tears, were now lit with keenest interest, and she\nseemed to have entirely forgotten the cause of her sorrow.\n\n\u201cGood!\u201d thought I to myself complacently. \u201cAt least I have helped to\nbrighten her life, though it be but for one hour.\u201d\n\nEven whilst I was thinking she rose up suddenly\u2014we had been sitting on\na boulder\u2014\u201cGoodness! how the time passes!\u201d she said; \u201cI must run home\nat once.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet me see you home,\u201d I said eagerly. Her great eyes opened, and she\nsaid with a grave simplicity that took me \u201cway down\u201d to use American\nslang:-\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cJust to see that you get home safely,\u201d I stammered. She laughed\nmerrily:\u2014\n\n\u201cNo fear for me. I\u2019m safer on this mountain than anywhere in the\nworld\u2014almost,\u201d she added, and the grave, sad look stole again over her\nface.\n\n\u201cWell, but I would like to,\u201d I urged. Again she answered with grave,\nsweet seriousness:\u2014\n\n\u201cOh, no, sir: that would not do. What would folk say to see me walking\nwith a gentleman like you?\u201d The answer was conclusive. I shrugged\nmy shoulders because I was a man, and had a man\u2019s petulance under\ndisappointment; and then I took off my hat and bowed\u2014not ironically,\nbut cheerfully, so as to set her at ease\u2014for I had the good fortune to\nhave been bred a gentleman. My reward came when she held out her hand\nfrankly and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cGood-bye, sir,\u201d gave a little graceful curtsey, and tripped away over\nthe edge of the hill.\n\nI stood bareheaded looking at her until she disappeared. Then I went to\nthe edge of the little plateau and looked over the distant prospect of\nland and sea, with a heart so full that the tears rushed to my eyes.\nThere are those who hold that any good emotion is an act of prayer! If\nthis be so, then on that wild mountain-top as fervent a prayer as the\nheart of man is capable of went up to the Giver of all good things!\n\nWhen I reached the foot of the mountain I found Dick and Andy waiting\nfor me at the sheebeen. As I came close Dick called out:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhat a time you were, old chap. I thought you had taken root on the\nhill-top! What on earth kept you?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe view from the top is lovely beyond compare,\u201d I said, as an evasive\nreply.\n\n\u201cIs what ye see there more lovelier nor what ye see at Shleenanaher?\u201d\nsaid Andy with seeming gravity.\n\n\u201cFar more so!\u201d I replied instantly and with decision.\n\n\u201cI tould yer \u2019an\u2019r there was somethin\u2019 worth lukin\u2019 at,\u201d said he. \u201cAn\u2019\nmay I ask if yer \u2019an\u2019r seen any bog on the mountain?\u201d\n\nI looked at him with a smile. I seemed to rather like his chaff now.\n\u201cBegor I did, yer \u2019an\u2019r,\u201d I answered, mimicking his accent.\n\nWe had proceeded on our way for a long distance, Andy apparently quite\noccupied with his driving\u2014Dick studying his note-book, and I quite\ncontent with my thoughts\u2014when Andy said, apropos of nothing and looking\nat nobody:\u2014\n\n\u201cI seen a young girrul comin\u2019 down the hill beyant, a wee while before\nyer \u2019an\u2019r. I hope she didn\u2019t disturb any iv yez?\u201d\n\nThe question passed unnoticed, for Dick apparently did not hear and I\ndid not feel called upon to answer it.\n\nI could not have truthfully replied with a simple negative or positive.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER VI.\n\n                             CONFIDENCES.\n\n\nThe next day Sutherland would have to resume his work with\nMurdock\u2014but on his newly-acquired land. I could think of his visit to\nKnockcalltecrore without a twinge of jealousy; and for my own part I\ncontemplated a walk in a different direction. Dick was full of his\nexperiment regarding the bog at Knocknacar, and could talk of nothing\nelse\u2014a disposition of things which suited me all to nothing, for I had\nonly to acquiesce in all he said, and let my own thoughts have free and\npleasant range.\n\n\u201cI have everything cut and dry in my head, and I\u2019ll have it all on\npaper before I sleep to-night,\u201d said the enthusiast. \u201cUnfortunately, I\nam tied for a while longer to the amiable Mr. Murdock; but since you\u2019re\ngood enough, old fellow, to offer to stay to look after the cutting,\nI can see my way to getting along. We can\u2019t begin until the day after\nto-morrow, for I can\u2019t by any possibility get old Moriarty\u2019s permission\nbefore that. But then we\u2019ll start in earnest. You must get some men up\nthere and set them to work at once. By to-morrow evening I\u2019ll have an\nexact map ready for you to work by, and all you will have to do will be\nto see that the men are kept up to the mark, look at the work now and\nthen and take a note of results. I expect it will take quite a week or\ntwo to make the preliminary drainage, for we must have a decided fall\nfor the water. We can\u2019t depend on less than twenty or thirty feet,\nand I should not be surprised if we want twice as much. I suppose I\nshan\u2019t see you till to-morrow night; for I\u2019m going up to my room now,\nand shall work late, and I must be off early in the morning. As you\u2019re\ngoing to have a walk I suppose I may take Andy, for my foot is not\nright yet?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy all means,\u201d I replied, and we bade each other good night.\n\nWhen I went to my own room I locked the door and looked out of the open\nwindow at the fair prospect bathed in soft moonlight. For a long time\nI stood there. What my thoughts were I need tell no young man or young\nwoman, for without shame I admitted to myself that I was over head and\nears in love. If any young person of either sex requires any further\nenlightenment, well! then, all I can say is that their education in\nlife has been shamefully neglected, or their opportunities have been\nscant; or, worse still, some very grave omission has been made in their\nequipment for the understanding of life.\u2014If any one, not young, wants\nsuch enlightenment I simply say\u2014\u2018sir or madam, either you are a fool or\nyour memory is gone!\u2019\n\nOne thing I will say, that I never felt so much at one with my kind;\nand before going to bed I sat down and wrote a letter of instructions\nto my agent, directing him to make accurate personal inquiries all over\nthe estate, and at the forthcoming rent-day make such remissions of\nrent as would relieve any trouble or aid in any plan of improvements\nsuch as his kinder nature could guess at or suggest.\n\nI need not say that for a long time I did not sleep, and although\nmy thoughts were full of such hope and happiness that the darkness\nseemed ever changing into sunshine, there were, at times, such\nharrowing thoughts of difficulties to come, in the shape of previous\nattachments\u2014of my being late in my endeavours to win her as my wife\u2014of\nmy never been able to find her again\u2014that, now and again, I had to\njump from my bed and pace the floor. Towards daylight I slept, and\nwent through a series of dreams of alternating joy and pain. At first\nhope held full sway, and my sweet experience of the day became renewed\nand multiplied. Again I climbed the hill and saw her and heard her\nvoice\u2014again the tearful look faded from her eyes\u2014again I held her hand\nin mine and bade good-bye, and a thousand happy fancies filled me with\nexquisite joy. Then doubts began to come. I saw her once more on the\nhill-top\u2014but she was looking out for some other than myself, and a\nshadow of disappointment passed over her sweet face when she recognized\nme. Again, I saw myself kneeling at her feet and imploring her love,\nwhile only cold, hard looks were my lot; or I found myself climbing\nthe hill, but never able to reach the top\u2014or on reaching it finding it\nempty. Then I would find myself hurrying through all sorts of difficult\nplaces\u2014high, bleak mountains, and lonely wind-swept strands\u2014dark paths\nthrough gloomy forests, and over sun-smitten plains, looking for\nher whom I had lost, and in vain trying to call her\u2014for I could not\nremember her name. This last nightmare was quite a possibility, for I\nhad never heard it.\n\nI awoke many times from such dreams in an agony of fear; but after a\ntime both pleasure and pain seemed to have had their share of my sleep,\nand I slept the dreamless sleep that Plato eulogizes in the \u201cApologia\nSocratis.\u201d\n\nI was awakened to a sense that my hour of rising had not yet come by a\nknocking at my door. I opened it, and on the landing without saw Andy\nstanding, cap in hand.\n\n\u201cHullo, Andy!\u201d I said. \u201cWhat on earth do you want?\u201d\n\n\u201cYer \u2019an\u2019r \u2019ll parden me, but I\u2019m jist off wid Misther Sutherland; an\u2019\nas I undherstand ye was goin\u2019 for a walk, I made bould t\u2019 ask yer \u2019an\u2019r\nif ye\u2019ll give a missage to me father?\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2018Certainly, Andy! With pleasure.\u201d\n\n\u201cMaybe ye\u2019d tell him that I\u2019d like the white mare tuk off the grash\nan\u2019 gave some hard \u2019atin\u2019 for a few days, as I\u2019ll want her brung into\nWistport before long.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right, Andy! Is that all?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s all, yer \u2019an\u2019r.\u201d Then he added, with a sly look at me:\u2014\n\n\u201cMay be ye\u2019ll keep yer eye out for a nice bit o\u2019 bog as ye go along.\u201d\n\n\u201cGet on, Andy,\u201d said I. \u201cShut up! you ould corncrake.\u201d I felt I could\nafford to chaff with him as we were alone.\n\nHe grinned, and went away. But he had hardly gone a few steps when he\nreturned and said, with an air of extreme seriousness:\u2014\n\n\u201cAs I\u2019m goin\u2019 to Knockcalltecrore, is there any missage I kin take for\nye to Miss Norah?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, go on!\u201d said I. \u201cWhat message should I have to send, when I never\nsaw the girl in my life?\u201d\n\nFor reply he winked at me with a wink big enough to cover a perch of\nland, and, looking back over his shoulder so that I could see his grin\nto the last, he went along the corridor\u2014and I went back to bed.\n\nIt did not strike me till a long time afterwards\u2014when I was quite\nclose to Knocknacar\u2014how odd it was that Andy had asked me to give the\nmessage to his father. I had not told him I was even coming in the\ndirection\u2014I had not told anyone\u2014indeed, I had rather tried to mislead\nwhen I spoke of taking a walk that day, by saying some commonplace\nabout \u2018the advisability of breaking new ground\u2019 and so forth. Andy had\nevidently taken it for granted; and it annoyed me somewhat that he\ncould find me so transparent. However, I gave the message to the old\nman, to which he promised to attend, and had a drink of milk, which is\nthe hospitality of the west of Ireland farmhouse. Then, in the most\nnonchalant way I could, I began to saunter up the hill.\n\nI loitered awhile here and there on the way up. I diverted my steps now\nand then as if to make inquiry into some interesting object. I tapped\nrocks and turned stones over, to the discomfiture of various swollen\npale-coloured worms and nests of creeping things. With the end of my\nstick I dug up plants, and made here and there unmeaning holes in the\nground as though I were actuated by some direct purpose known to myself\nand not understood of others. In fact I acted as a hypocrite in many\nharmless and unmeaning ways, and rendered myself generally obnoxious to\nthe fauna and flora of Knocknacar.\n\nAs I approached the hill-top my heart beat loudly and fast, and a\ngeneral supineness took possession of my limbs, and a dimness came over\nmy sight and senses. I had experienced something of the same feeling\nat other times in my life\u2014as, for instance, just before my first fight\nwhen a school boy, and when I stood up to make my maiden speech at the\nvillage debating society. Such feelings\u2014or lack of feelings\u2014however, do\nnot kill; and it is the privilege and strength of advancing years to\nknow this fact.\n\nI proceeded up the hill. I did not whistle this time, or hum, or make\nany noise\u2014matters were far too serious with me for any such levity. I\nreached the top\u2014and found myself alone! A sense of blank disappointment\ncame over me\u2014which was only relieved when, on looking at my watch, I\nfound that it was as yet still early in the forenoon. It was three\no\u2019clock yesterday when I had met\u2014when I had made the ascent.\n\nAs I had evidently to while away a considerable time, I determined to\nmake an accurate investigation of the hill of Knocknacar\u2014much, very\nmuch fuller than I had made as yet. As my unknown had descended the\nhill by the east, and would probably make the ascent\u2014if she ascended\nat all\u2014by the same side; and as it was my object not to alarm her, I\ndetermined to confine my investigations to the west side. Accordingly I\ndescended about half way down the slope, and then commenced my prying\ninto the secrets of Nature under a sense of the just execration of me\nand my efforts on the part of the whole of the animate and inanimate\noccupants of the mountain side.\n\nHours to me had never seemed of the same inexhaustible proportions as\nthe hours thus spent. At first I was strong with a dogged patience; but\nthis in time gave way to an impatient eagerness, that merged into a\ndespairing irritability. More than once I felt an almost irresistible\ninclination to rush to the top of the hill and shout, or conceived\nan equally foolish idea to make a call at every house, cottage and\ncabin, in the neighbourhood. In this latter desire my impatience was\nsomewhat held in check by a sense of the ludicrous; for as I thought\nof the detail of the doing it, I seemed to see myself when trying to\nreduce my abstract longing to a concrete effort, meeting only jeers and\nlaughter from both men and women\u2014in my seemingly asinine effort to make\ninquiries regarding a person whose name even I did not know, and for\nwhat purpose I could assign no sensible reason.\n\nI verily believe I must have counted the leaves of grass on portions\nof that mountain. Unfortunately, hunger or thirst did not assail me,\nfor they would have afforded some diversion to my thoughts. I sturdily\nstuck to my resolution not to ascend to the top until after three\no\u2019clock, and I gave myself much _kudos_ for the stern manner in which I\nadhered to my resolve.\n\nMy satisfaction at so bravely adhering to my resolution, in spite of\nso much mental torment and temptation, may be imagined when, at the\nexpiration of the appointed time, on ascending to the hill-top, I saw\nmy beautiful friend sitting on the edge of the plateau and heard her\nfirst remark after our mutual salutations:\u2014\n\n\u201cI have been here nearly two hours, and am just going home! I have been\nwondering and wondering what on earth you were working at all over the\nhillside! May I ask, are you a botanist?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d\n\n\u201cOr a geologist?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d\n\n\u201cOr a naturalist?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d\n\nThere she stopped; this simple interrogation as to the pursuits of a\nstranger evidently struck her as unmaidenly, for she blushed and turned\naway.\n\nI did not know what to say; but youth has its own wisdom\u2014which is\nsincerity\u2014and I blurted out:\u2014\n\n\u201cIn reality I was doing nothing; I was only trying to pass the time.\u201d\n\nThere was a query in the glance of the glorious blue-black eyes and in\nthe lifting of the ebon lashes; and I went on, conscious as I proceeded\nthat the ground before me was marked \u201cDangerous\u201d:\u2014\n\n\u201cThe fact is, I did not want to come up here till after three, and the\ntime seemed precious long, I can tell you.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, but you have missed the best part of the view. Between one and\ntwo o\u2019clock, when the sun strikes in between the islands\u2014Cusheen there\nto the right, and Mishcar\u2014the view is the finest of the whole day.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes,\u201d I answered, \u201cI know now what I have missed.\u201d\n\nPerhaps my voice betrayed me. I certainly felt full of bitter regret;\nbut there was no possibility of mistaking the smile which rose to\nher eyes and faded into the blush that followed the reception of the\nthought.\n\nThere are some things which a woman _cannot_ misunderstand or fail to\nunderstand; and surely my regret and its cause were within the category.\n\nIt thrilled through me, with a sweet intoxication, to realize that she\nwas not displeased. Man is predatory even in his affections, and there\nis some conscious power to him which follows the conviction that the\ndanger of him\u2014which is his intention\u2014is recognized.\n\nHowever, I thought it best to be prudent, and to rest on success\u2014for a\nwhile, at least. I therefore commenced to talk of London, whose wonders\nwere but fresh to myself, and was rewarded by the bright smile that had\nnow become incorporated with my dreams by day and by night.\n\nAnd so we talked\u2014talked in simple companionship; and the time fled by\non golden wings. No word of love was spoken or even hinted at, but\nwith joy and gratitude unspeakable I began to realize that we were _en\nrapport_. And more than this, I realized that the beautiful peasant\ngirl had great gifts\u2014a heart of gold, a sweet, pure nature, and a rare\nintelligence. I gathered that she had had some education, though not an\nextensive one, and that she had followed up at home such subjects as\nshe had learned in school. But this was all I gathered. I was still as\nignorant as ever of her name, and all else beside, as when I had first\nheard her sweet voice on the hill-top.\n\nPerhaps I might have learned more, had there been time; but the limit\nof my knowledge had been fixed. The time had fled so quickly, because\nso happily, that neither of us had taken account of it; and suddenly,\nas a long red ray struck over the hill-top from the sun now preparing\nfor his plunge into the western wave, she jumped to her feet with a\nstartled cry:\u2014\n\n\u201cThe sunset! What am I thinking of! Good-night! good-night! No, you\nmust not come\u2014it would never do! Good night!\u201d And before I could say a\nword, she was speeding down the eastern slope of the mountain.\n\nThe revulsion from such a dream of happiness made me for the moment\nungrateful; and I felt that it was with an angry sneer on my lip that I\nmuttered as I looked at her retreating form:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhy are the happy hours so short\u2014whilst misery and anxiety spread out\nendlessly?\u201d\n\nBut as the red light of the sunset smote my face, a better and a holier\nfeeling came to me; and there on the top of the hill I knelt and\nprayed, with the directness and fervour that are the spiritual gifts\nof youth, that every blessing might light on her\u2014the _arri\u00e8re pens\u00e9e_\nbeing\u2014her, my wife. Slowly I went down the mountain after the sun had\nset; and when I got to the foot, I stood bareheaded for a long time,\nlooking at the summit which had given me so much happiness.\n\nDo not sneer or make light of such moments, ye whose lives are grey.\nWould to God that the grey-haired and grey-souled watchers of life,\ncould feel such moments once again!\n\nI walked home with rare briskness, but did not feel tired at all by\nit\u2014I seemed to tread on air. As I drew near the hotel, I had some vague\nidea of hurrying at once to my own room, and avoiding dinner altogether\nas something too gross and carnal for my present exalted condition;\nbut a moment\u2019s reflection was sufficient to reject any such folly. I\ntherefore achieved the other extreme, and made Mrs. Keating\u2019s kindly\nface beam by the vehemence with which I demanded food. I found that\nDick had not yet returned\u2014a fact which did not displease me, as it\ninsured me a temporary exemption from Andy\u2019s ill-timed banter, which I\ndid not feel in a humour to enjoy at present.\n\nI was just sitting down to my dinner when Dick arrived. He too had a\nkeen appetite; and it was not until we had finished our fish, and were\nwell into our roast duck, that conversation began. Once he was started,\nDick was full of matters to tell me. He had seen Moriarty\u2014that was\nwhat had kept him so late\u2014and had got his permission to investigate\nand experiment on the bog. He had thought out the whole method of work\nto be pursued, and had, during Murdock\u2019s dinner-time, made to scale\na rough diagram for me to work by. We had our cigars lit before he\nhad exhausted himself on this subject. He had asked me a few casual\nquestions about my walk, and, so as not to arouse any suspicions, I\nhad answered him vaguely that I had had a lovely day, had enjoyed\nmyself immensely, and had seen some very pretty things\u2014all of which\nwas literally and exactly true. I had then asked him as to how he had\ngot on with his operations in connection with the bog. It amused me to\nthink how small and secondary a place Shleenanaher, and all belonging\nto it, now had in my thoughts. He told me that they had covered a\nlarge portion of the new section of the bog\u2014that there was very little\nleft to do now, in so far as the bog was concerned; and he descanted on\nthe richness and the fine position of Murdock\u2019s new farm.\n\n\u201cIt makes me angry,\u201d said he, \u201cto think that that human-shaped wolf\nshould get hold of such a lovely spot, and oust such a good fellow as\nthe man whom he has robbed\u2014yes! it is robbery, and nothing short of it.\nI feel something like a criminal myself for working for such a wretch\nat all.\u201d\n\n\u201cNever mind, old chap,\u201d said I; \u201cyou can\u2019t help it. Whatever he may\nhave done wrong, you have had neither act nor part in it. It will all\ncome right in time!\u201d In my present state of mind I could not imagine\nthat there was, or could be, anything in the world that would not come\nall right in time.\n\nWe strolled into the street, and met Andy, who immediately hurried up\nto me:\u2014\n\n\u201cGood evenin\u2019, yer \u2019an\u2019r! An\u2019 did ye give me insthructions to me\nfather?\u201d\n\n\u201cI did, Andy; and he asked me to tell you that all shall be done\nexactly as you wish.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank yer \u2019an\u2019r.\u201d He turned away, and my heart rejoiced, for I thought\nI would be free from his badinage; but he turned and came back, and\nasked with a servility which I felt to be hypocritical and assumed:\u2014\n\n\u201cAny luck, yer \u2019an\u2019r, wid bogs to-day?\u201d I know I got red as I answered\nhim:\u2014\n\n\u201cOh, I don\u2019t know! Yes! a little\u2014not much.\u201d\n\n\u201cShure an\u2019 I\u2019m glad to hear it, surr! but I might have known be the luk\niv ye and be yer shtep. Faix! it\u2019s aisy known whin a man has been lucky\nwid bogs!\u201d The latter sentence was spoken in a pronounced \u201caside.\u201d\n\nDick laughed, for although he was not in the secret he could see that\nthere was some fun intended. I did not like his laugh, and said hotly:\u2014\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t understand you, Andy!\u201d\n\n\u201cIs it undershtand me ye don\u2019t do? Well, surr, if I\u2019ve said anythin\u2019\nthat I shouldn\u2019t, I ax yer pardon. Bogs isn\u2019t to be lightly shpoke iv\nat all, at all!\u201d then, after a pause:\u2014\u201cPoor Miss Norah!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d said I.\n\n\u201cShure yer \u2019an\u2019r, I was only pityin\u2019 the poor crathur. Poor thing,\nbut this\u2019ll be a bitther blow to her intirely!\u201d The villain was so\nmanifestly acting a part, and he grinned at me in such a provoking way,\nthat I got quite annoyed.\n\n\u201cAndy, what do you mean? out with it!\u201d I said hotly.\n\n\u201cMane, yer \u2019an\u2019r? Sure nawthin\u2019. All I mane is, poor Miss Norah! Musha,\nbut it\u2019ll be the sore thrial to her. Bad cess to Knocknacar anyhow!\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is infernal impertinence! Here\u2014\u2014\u201d I was stopped by Dick\u2019s hand on\nmy breast:\u2014\n\n\u201cEasy, easy, old chap! What is this all about? Don\u2019t get angry, old\nman. Andy is only joking, whatever it is. I\u2019m not in the secret myself,\nand so can give no opinion; but there is a joke somewhere. Don\u2019t let it\ngo beyond a joke.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right, Dick,\u201d said I, having had time to recover my temper. \u201cThe\nfact is that Andy has started some chaff on me about bogs\u2014meaning\ngirls thereby\u2014every time he mentions the word to me; and now he seems\nto accuse me in some way about a girl that came to meet her father\nthat night I left him home at Knockcalltecrore. You know, Joyce, that\nMurdock has ousted from his farm. Now, look here, Andy! You\u2019re a very\ngood fellow, and don\u2019t mean any harm; but I entirely object to the way\nyou\u2019re going on. I don\u2019t mind a button about a joke. I hope I\u2019m not\nsuch an ass as to be thin-skinned about a trifle, but it is another\nmatter when you mention a young lady\u2019s name alongside mine. You don\u2019t\nthink of the harm you may do. People are very talkative, and generally\nget a story the wrong end up. If you mention this girl\u2014whatever her\nname is\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor Miss Norah!\u201d struck in Andy, and then ostentatiously corrected\nhimself\u2014\u201cI big yer \u2019an\u2019r\u2019s pardon, Miss Norah, I mane.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis Miss Norah along with me,\u201d I went on, \u201cand especially in that\nobjectionable form, people may begin to think she is wronged in some\nway, and you may do her an evil that you couldn\u2019t undo in all your\nlifetime. As for me, I never even saw the girl. I heard her speak in\nthe dark for about half a minute, but I never set eyes on her in my\nlife. Now, let this be the last of all this nonsense! Don\u2019t worry me\nany more; but run in and tell Mrs. Keating to give you a skinful of\npunch, and to chalk it up to me.\u201d\n\nAndy grinned, ducked his head, and made his exit into the house as\nthough propelled or drawn by some unseen agency. When I remarked this\nto Dick he replied, \u201cSome spirit draws him, I dare say.\u201d\n\nDick had not said a word beyond advising me not to lose my temper. He\ndid not appear to take any notice of my lecture to Andy, and puffed\nunconcernedly at his cigar till the driver had disappeared. He then\ntook me by the arm and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cLet us stroll a bit up the road.\u201d Arm in arm we passed out of the town\nand into the silence of the common. The moon was rising, and there was\na soft, tender light over everything. Presently, without looking at me,\nDick said:\u2014\n\n\u201cArt, I don\u2019t want to be inquisitive or to press for any confidences,\nbut you and I are too old friends not to be interested in what concerns\neach other. What did Andy mean? Is there any girl in question?\u201d\n\nI was glad to have a friend to whom to open my mind, and without\nfurther thought I answered:\u2014\n\n\u201cThere is, Dick!\u201d\n\nDick grasped my arm and looked keenly into my face, and then said:\n\n\u201cArt! Answer me one question\u2014answer me truly, old fellow, by all you\nhold dear\u2014answer me on your honour!\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall, Dick! What is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cIs it Norah Joyce?\u201d I had felt some vague alarm from the seriousness\nof his manner, but his question put me at ease again, and, with a high\nheart, I answered:\u2014\n\n\u201cNo! Dick. It is not.\u201d We strolled on, and after a pause, that seemed a\nlittle oppressive to me, he spoke again:\u2014\n\n\u201cAndy mentioned a poor \u2018Miss Norah\u2019\u2014don\u2019t get riled, old man\u2014and you\nboth agreed that a certain young lady was the only one alluded to. Are\nyou sure there is no mistake? Is not your young lady called Norah?\u201d\nThis was a difficult question to answer, and made me feel rather\nawkward. Being awkward, I got a little hot:\u2014\n\n\u201cAndy\u2019s an infernal fool. What I said to him\u2014you heard me\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cYes! I heard you.\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2014\u2014 was literally and exactly true. I never set eyes on Norah Joyce\nin my life. The girl I mean, the one you mean also, was one I saw by\nchance yesterday\u2014and to-day\u2014on the top of Knocknacar.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho is she?\u201d\u2014there was a more joyous sound in Dick\u2019s voice.\n\n\u201cEh! eh!\u201d I stammered. \u201cThe fact is, Dick, I don\u2019t know.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is her name?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou don\u2019t know her name?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere does she come from?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know. I don\u2019t know anything about her, except this, Dick, that\nI love her with all my heart and soul!\u201d I could not help it\u2014I could not\naccount for it \u2014but the tears rushed to my eyes, and I had to keep my\nhead turned away from Dick lest he should notice me. He said nothing,\nand when I had surreptitiously wiped away what I thought were unmanly\ntears of emotion, I looked round at him. He, too, had his head turned\naway and, and if my eyes did not deceive me, he too had some unmanly\nsigns of emotion.\n\n\u201cDick!\u201d said I. He turned on the instant. We looked in one another\u2019s\nfaces, and the story was all told. We grasped hands warmly.\n\n\u201cWe\u2019re both in the same boat, old boy,\u201d said he.\n\n\u201cWho is it, Dick?\u201d\n\n\u201cNorah Joyce!\u201d\u2014\u2014 I gave a low whistle.\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d he went on, \u201cyou are well ahead of me. I have never even\nexchanged a word with her yet. I have only seen her a couple of times;\nbut the whole world is nothing to me beside her. There! I\u2019ve nothing\nto tell. _Veni, Vidi, Victus sum!_\u2014I came, I saw, I was conquered. She\nhas beauty enough, and if I\u2019m not an idiot, worth enough to conquer a\nnation!\u2014Now, tell me all about yours.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere\u2019s nothing to tell, Dick; as yet I have only exchanged a few\nwords. I shall hope to know more soon.\u201d We walked along in silence,\nturning our steps back to the hotel.\n\n\u201cI must hurry and finish up my plans to-night so as to be ready for you\nto-morrow. You won\u2019t look on it as a labour to go to Knocknacar, old\nchap!\u201d said he, slapping me on the back.\n\n\u201cNor you to go to Shleenanaher,\u201d said I, as we shook hands and parted\nfor the night.\n\nIt was quite two hours after this when I began to undress for bed. I\nsuppose the whole truth, however foolish, must be told, but those two\nhours were mainly spent in trying to compose some suitable verses to\nmy unknown. I had consumed a vast amount of paper\u2014consumed literally,\nfor what lover was ever yet content to trust his unsuccessful poetic\nefforts to the waste basket?\u2014and my grate was thickly strewn with filmy\nashes. Hitherto the Muse had persistently and successfully evaded me.\nShe did not even grant me a feather from her wing, and my \u2018woeful\nballad made to my mistress\u2019 eyebrow\u2019 was amongst the things that were\nnot. There was a gentle tap at the door. I opened it, and saw Dick with\nhis coat off. He came in.\n\n\u201cI thought I would look in, Art, as I saw the light under your door,\nand knew that you had not gone to bed. I only wanted to tell you this.\nYou don\u2019t know what a relief it is to me to be able to speak of it to\nany living soul\u2014how maddening it is to me to work for that scoundrel\nMurdock. You can understand now why I flared up at him so suddenly ere\nyesterday. I have a strong conviction on me that his service is devil\u2019s\nservice as far as my happiness is concerned\u2014and that I shall pay some\nterrible penalty for it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNonsense, old fellow,\u201d said I, \u201cNorah only wants to see you to know\nwhat a fine fellow you are. You won\u2019t mind my saying it, but you are\nthe class of man that any woman would be proud of!\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! old chap,\u201d he answered sadly, \u201cI\u2019m afraid it will never get that\nfar. There isn\u2019t, so to speak, a fair start for me. She has seen me\nalready\u2014worse luck!\u2014has seen me doing work which must seem to her to\naid in ruining her father. I could not mistake the scornful glance she\nhas thrown on me each time we have met. However, _che sara sara_! It\u2019s\nno use fretting beforehand. Good night!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER VII.\n\n                               VANISHED.\n\n\nWe were all astir shortly after daylight on Monday morning. Dick\u2019s foot\nwas well enough for his walk to Knockcalltecrore, and Andy came with me\nto Knocknacar, as had been arranged, for I wanted his help in engaging\nlabourers and beginning the work. We got to the shebeen about nine\no\u2019clock, and Andy having put up the mare went out to get labourers. As\nI was morally certain that at that hour in the morning there would be\nno chance of seeing my unknown on the hill-top, I went at once to the\nbog, taking my map with me and studying the ground where we were to\ncommence operations.\n\nAndy joined me in about half-an-hour with five men\u2014all he had been able\nto get in the time. They were fine strapping young fellows and seemed\ninterested in the work, so I thought the contingent would be strong\nenough. By this time I had the ground marked out according to the plan,\nand so without more ado we commenced work.\n\nWe had attacked the hill some two hundred feet lower down than the\nbog, where the land suddenly rose steeply from a wide sloping extent\nof wilderness of invincible barrenness. It was over this spot that\nSutherland hoped ultimately to send the waters of the bog. We began at\nthe foot and made a trench some four feet wide at the bottom, and with\nsloping walls, so that when we got in so far the drain would be twenty\nfeet deep, the external aperture would measure about twice as much.\n\nThe soil was heavy and full of moderate-sized boulders, but was not\nunworkable, and amongst us we came to the conclusion that a week of\nsolid work would, bar accidents and our coming across unforeseen\ndifficulties, at any rate break the back of the job. The men worked\nin sections\u2014one marking out the trench by cutting the surface to some\nfoot-and-a-half deep, and the others following in succession. Andy\nsat on a stone hard by, filled his pipe, and endeavoured in his own\ncheery way to relieve the monotony of the labour of the others. After\nabout an hour he grew tired and went away\u2014perhaps it was that he became\ninterested in a country car, loaded with persons, that came down the\nroad and stopped a few minutes at the sheebeen on its way to join the\nmain road to Carnaclif.\n\nThings went steadily on for some time. The men worked well, and I\npossessed my soul in such patience as I could, and studied the map and\nthe ground most carefully. When dinner-time came the men went off each\nto his own home, and as soon as the place was free from them I hurried\nto the top of the mountain. The prospect was the same as yesterday.\nThere was the same stretch of wild moor and rugged coast, of clustering\nislands and foam-girt rocks\u2014of blue sky laden with such masses of\nluminous clouds as are only found in Ireland. But all was to me dreary\nand desolate, for the place was empty and _she_ was not there. I\nsat down to wait with what patience I could. It was dreary work at\nbest; but at any rate there was hope\u2014and its more immediate kinsman,\nexpectation\u2014and I waited. Somehow the view seemed to tranquillize me in\nsome degree. It may have been that there was some unconscious working\nof the mind which told me in some imperfect way that in a region quite\nwithin my range of vision, nothing could long remain hidden or unknown.\nPerhaps it was the stilly silence of the place. There was hardly a\nsound\u2014the country people were all within doors at dinner, and even the\nsounds of their toil were lacking. From the west came a very faint\nbreeze, just enough to bring the far-off, eternal roar of the surf.\nThere was scarcely a sign of life. The cattle far below were sheltering\nunder trees, or in the shadows of hedges, or standing still knee-deep\nin the pools of the shallow streams. The only moving thing which I\ncould see, was the car which had left so long before, and was now far\noff, and was each moment becoming smaller and smaller as it went into\nthe distance.\n\nSo I sat for quite an hour with my heart half sick with longing, but\nshe never came. Then I thought I heard a step coming up the path\nat the far side. My heart beat strangely. I sat silent, and did not\npretend to hear. She was walking more slowly than usual, and with a\nfirmer tread. She was coming. I heard the steps on the plateau, and a\nvoice came:\u2014\n\n\u201cOch! an\u2019 isn\u2019t it a purty view, yer \u2019an\u2019r?\u201d I leaped to my feet with a\nfeeling that was positively murderous. The revulsion was too great, and\nI broke into a burst of semi-hysterical laughter. There stood Andy\u2014with\nragged red head and sun-scorched face\u2014in his garb of eternal patches,\nbleached and discoloured by sun and rain into a veritable coat of many\ncolours\u2014gazing at the view with a rapt expression, and yet with one\neye half-closed in a fixed but unmistakable wink, as though taking the\nwhole majesty of nature into his confidence.\n\nWhen he heard my burst of laughter he turned to me quizzically:\u2014\n\n\u201cMusha! but it\u2019s the merry gentleman yer \u2019an\u2019r is this day. Shure the\nview here is the laughablest thing I ever see!\u201d and he affected to\nlaugh, but in such a soulless, unspontaneous way that it became a real\nburlesque. I waited for him to go on. I was naturally very vexed, but\nI was afraid to say anything lest I might cause him to interfere in\n_this_ affair\u2014the last thing on earth that I wished for.\n\nHe did go on; no one ever found Andy abashed or ill at ease:\u2014\n\n\u201cBegor! but yer \u2019an\u2019r lepped like a deer when ye heerd me shpake. Did\nye think I was goin\u2019 to shoot ye? Faix! an\u2019 I thought that ye wor\nabout to jump from aff iv the mountain into the say, like a shtag.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, what do you know about stags, Andy? There are none in this part\nof the country, are there?\u201d I thought I would drag a new subject across\nhis path. The ruse of the red herring drawn across the scent succeeded!\n\n\u201cPhwhat do I know iv shtags? Faix, I know this, that there does be\nplinty in me Lard\u2019s demesne beyant at Wistport. Sure wan iv thim got\nout last autumn an\u2019 nigh ruined me garden. He kem in at night an\u2019 ate\nup all me cabbages an\u2019 all the vigitables I\u2019d got. I frightened him\naway a lot iv times, but he kem back all the same. At last I could\nshtand him no longer, and I wint meself an\u2019 complained to the Lard.\nHe tould me he was very sorry fur the damage he done, \u2018an\u2019,\u2019 sez he,\n\u2018Andy, I think he\u2019s a bankrup,\u2019 sez he, \u2018an\u2019 we must take his body.\u2019\n\u2018How is that, Me Lard?\u2019 sez I. Sez he, \u2018I give him to ye, Andy. Do\nwhat ye like wid him!\u2019 An\u2019 wid that I wint home an\u2019 I med a thrap iv\na clothes line wid a loop in it, an\u2019 I put it betune two threes; and\nshure enough in the night I got him.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what did you do with him, Andy?\u201d said I.\n\n\u201cFaith, surr, I shkinned him and ate him!\u201d He said this just in the\nsame tone in which he would speak of the most ordinary occurrence,\nleaving the impression on one\u2019s mind that the skinning and eating were\nmatters done at the moment and quite offhand.\n\nI fondly hoped that Andy\u2019s mind was now in quite another state from\nhis usual mental condition; but I hardly knew the man yet. He had\nthe true humorist\u2019s persistence, and before I was ready with another\nintellectual herring he was off on the original track.\n\n\u201cI thrust I didn\u2019t dishturb yer \u2019an\u2019r. I know some gintlemin likes to\nluk at views and say nothin\u2019. I\u2019m tould that a young gintleman like yer\n\u2019an\u2019r might be up on top iv a mountain like this, an\u2019 he\u2019d luk at the\nview so hard day afther day that he wouldn\u2019t even shpake to a purty\ngirrul\u2014if there was wan forninst him all the time!\u201d\n\n\u201cThen they lied to you, Andy!\u201d I said this quite decisively.\n\n\u201cFaix, yer \u2019an\u2019r, an\u2019 it\u2019s glad I am to hear that same, for I wouldn\u2019t\nlike to think that a young gintleman was afraid of a girrul, however\npurty she might be.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, tell me, Andy,\u201d I said, \u201cwhat idiot could have started such an\nidea? And even if it was told to you, how could you be such a fool as\nto believe it?\u201d\n\n\u201cMe belave it! Surr, I did\u2019t belave a wurrd iv it\u2014not until I met yer\n\u2019an\u2019r.\u201d His face was quite grave, and I was not sorry to find him in a\nsober mood, for I wanted to have a serious chat with him. It struck me\nthat he, having relatives at Knocknacar, might be able to give me some\ninformation about my unknown.\n\n\u201cUntil you met me, Andy! Surely I never gave you any ground for holding\nsuch a ridiculous idea?\u201d\n\n\u201cBegor, yer \u2019an\u2019r, but ye did. But p\u2019raps I had betther not say any\nmore\u2014yer \u2019an\u2019r mightn\u2019t like it.\u201d\n\nThis both surprised and nettled me, and I was determined now to have it\nout, so I said, \u201cYou quite surprise me, Andy. What have I ever done? Do\nnot be afraid! Out with it,\u201d for he kept looking at me in a timorous\nkind of way.\n\n\u201cWell, then, yer \u2019an\u2019r, about poor Miss Norah?\u201d\n\nThis was a surprise, but I wanted to know more.\n\n\u201cWell, Andy, what about her?\u201d\n\n\u201cShure, an\u2019 didn\u2019t you refuse to shpake iv her intirely an\u2019 sot on me\nfur only mintionin\u2019 her\u2014an\u2019 she wan iv the purtiest girruls in the\nplace.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear Andy,\u201d said I, \u201cI thought I had explained to you, last night,\nall about that. I don\u2019t suppose you quite understand; but it might do a\ngirl in her position harm to be spoken about with a\u2014a man like me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWid a man like you\u2014an\u2019 for why? Isn\u2019t she as good a girrul as iver\nbroke bread?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it\u2019s not that, Andy; people might think harm.\u201d\n\n\u201cThink harrum!\u2014phwhat harrum\u2014an\u2019 who\u2019d think it?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, you don\u2019t understand\u2014a man in your position can hardly know.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, yer \u2019an\u2019r, I don\u2019t git comprehindin\u2019! What harrum could there\nbe, an\u2019 who\u2019d think it? The people here is all somethin\u2019 iv me own\nposition\u2014workin\u2019 people\u2014an\u2019 whin they knows a girrul is a good, dacent\ngirrul, why should they think harrum because a nice young gintleman\ngoes out iv his way to shpake to her?\u2014 Doesn\u2019t he shpake to the\nquality like himself, an\u2019 no wan thinks any harrum iv ayther iv them?\u201d\n\nAndy\u2019s simple, honest argument made me feel ashamed of the finer\nsophistries belonging to the more artificial existence of those of my\nown station.\n\n\u201cSure, yer \u2019an\u2019r, there isn\u2019t a bhoy in Connaught that wouldn\u2019t like\nto be shpoke of wid Miss Norah. She\u2019s that good, that even the nuns in\nGalway, where she was at school, loves her and thrates her like wan iv\nthemselves, for all she\u2019s a Protestan\u2019.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear Andy,\u201d said I, \u201cdon\u2019t you think you\u2019re a little hard on me?\nYou\u2019re putting me in the dock, and trying me for a series of offences\nthat I never even thought of committing with regard to her or any one\nelse. Miss Norah may be an angel in petticoats, and I\u2019m quite prepared\nto take it for granted that she is so\u2014your word on the subject is quite\nenough for me. But just please to remember that I never set eyes on her\nin my life. The only time I was ever in her presence was when you were\nby yourself, and it was so dark that I could not see her, to help her\nwhen she fainted. Why, in the name of common sense, you should keep\nholding her up to me, I do not understand.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut yer \u2019an\u2019r said that it might do her harrum even to mintion her wid\nyou.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, well, Andy, I give it up\u2014it\u2019s no use trying to explain. Either you\n_won\u2019t_ understand, or I am unable to express myself properly.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurr, there can be only one harrum to a girrul from a gintleman,\u201d he\nlaid his hand on my arm, and said this impressively\u2014whatever else he\nmay have ever said in jest, he was in grim earnest now\u2014\u201can\u2019 that\u2019s whin\nhe\u2019s a villain. Ye wouldn\u2019t do the black thrick, and desave a girrul\nthat thrusted ye?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, Andy, no! God forbid! I would rather go to the highest rock on\nsome island there beyond, where the surf is loudest, and throw myself\ninto the sea, than do such a thing. No! Andy, there are lots of men\nthat hold such matters lightly, but I don\u2019t think I\u2019m one of them.\nWhatever sins I have, or may ever have upon my soul, I hope such a one\nas _that_ will never be there.\u201d\n\nAll the comment Andy made was, \u201cI thought so!\u201d Then the habitual\nquizzical look stole over his face again, and he said:\u2014\n\n\u201cThere does be some that does fear Braches iv Promise. Mind ye, a man\nhas to be mighty careful on the subject, for some weemin is that \u2019cute,\nthere\u2019s no bein\u2019 up to them.\u201d\n\nAndy\u2019s sudden change to this new theme was a little embarrassing, since\nthe idea leading to it\u2014or rather preceding it\u2014had been one purely\npersonal to myself; but he was off, and I thought it better that he\nshould go on.\n\n\u201cIndeed!\u201d said I.\n\n\u201cYes, surr. Oh, my! but they\u2019re \u2019cute. The first thing that a girrul\ndoes when a man looks twice at her, is t\u2019 ask him to write her a\nletther, an\u2019 thin she has him\u2014tight.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow so, Andy?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, ye see, surr, when you\u2019re writin\u2019 a letther to a girrul, ye\ncan\u2019t begin widout a \u2018My dear\u2019 or a \u2018My darlin\u2019\u2019\u2014an\u2019 thin she has the\ngrip iv the law onto ye! An\u2019 ye do be badgered be the councillors,\nan\u2019 ye do be frowned at be the judge, an\u2019 ye do be laughed at be the\npeople, an\u2019 ye do have to pay yer money\u2014an\u2019 there ye are!\u201d\n\n\u201cI say, Andy,\u201d said I, \u201cI think you must have been in trouble yourself\nin that way\u2014you seem to have it all off pat!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, throth, not me, yer \u2019an\u2019r. Glory be to God! but I niver was a\ndefindant in me life\u2014an\u2019 more betoken, I don\u2019t want to be\u2014but I was\nwance a witness in a case iv the kind.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what did you witness?\u201d\n\n\u201cFaix, I was called to prove that I seen the gintleman\u2019s arrum around\nthe girrul\u2019s waist. The councillors made a deal out iv that\u2014just as if\nit warn\u2019t only manners to hould up a girrul on a car!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat was the case, Andy? Tell me all about it.\u201d\n\nI did not mind his waiting, as it gave me an excuse for staying on the\ntop of the hill. I knew I could easily get rid of him when she came\u2014if\nshe came\u2014by sending him on a message.\n\n\u201cWell, this was a young woman what had an action agin Shquire Murphy\niv Ballynashoughlin himself\u2014a woman as was no more nor a mere simple\ngoverness!\u201d\n\nIt would be impossible to convey the depth of social unimportance\nconveyed by his tone and manner; and coming from a man of \u201cshreds and\npatches,\u201d it was more than comic. Andy had his good suit of frieze\nand homespun; but whilst he was on mountain duty, he spared these and\nappeared almost in the guise of a scarecrow.\n\n\u201cWell! what happened?\u201d\n\n\u201cFaix, whin she tould her shtory the shquire\u2019s councillor luked up at\nthe jury, an\u2019 he whispered a wurrd to the shquire and his \u2019an\u2019r wrote\nout a shlip iv paper an\u2019 handed it to him, an\u2019 the councillor ups an\u2019\nsays he: \u2018Me Lard and Gintlemin iv the Jury, me client is prepared to\nhave the honour iv the lady\u2019s hand if she will so, for let bygones be\nbygones.\u2019 An\u2019 sure enough they was married on the Sunday next four\nweeks; an\u2019 there she is now dhrivin\u2019 him about the counthry in her\npony-shay, an\u2019 all the quality comin\u2019 to tay in the garden, an\u2019 she as\naffable as iver to all the farmers round. Aye, an\u2019 be the hokey, the\nshquire himself sez that it was a good day for him whin he sot eyes on\nher first, an\u2019 that he don\u2019t know why he was such a dam fool as iver to\nthry to say \u2018no\u2019 to her, or to wish it.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite a tale with a moral, Andy! Bravo! Mrs. Murphy.\u201d\n\n\u201cA morial is it? Now may I make bould to ask yer \u2019an\u2019r what morial ye\ntake out iv it?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe moral, Andy, that I see is, When you see the right woman go for\nher for all you\u2019re worth, and thank God for giving you the chance.\u201d\nAndy jumped up and gave me a great slap on the back.\n\n\u201cHurro! more power to yer elbow! but it\u2019s a bhoy afther me own h\u2019arrt\ny\u2019 are. I big yer pardon, surr, for the liberty; but it\u2019s mighty glad I\nam.\u201d\n\n\u201cGranted, Andy; I like a man to be hearty, and you certainly are. But\nwhy are you so glad about me?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause I like yer \u2019an\u2019r. Shure in all me life I niver see so much\niv a young gintleman as I\u2019ve done iv yer \u2019an\u2019r. Surr, I\u2019m an ould man\ncompared wid ye\u2014I\u2019m the beginnin\u2019 iv wan, at any rate, an\u2019 I\u2019d like\nto give ye a wurrd iv advice\u2014git marrid while ye can! I tell ye this,\nsurr, it\u2019s not whin the hair is beginnin\u2019 to git thin on to the top\niv yer head that a nice young girrul \u2019ill love ye for yerself. It\u2019s\nthe people that goes all their lives makin\u2019 money and lukin\u2019 after\nall kinds iv things that\u2019s iv no kind iv use to thim, that makes the\nmishtake. Suppose ye do git marrid when ye\u2019re ould and bald, an\u2019 yer\nlegs is shaky, an\u2019 ye want to be let sit close to the fire in the\nwarrum corner, an\u2019 ye\u2019ve lashins iv money that ye don\u2019t know what to do\nwid! Do you think that it\u2019s thin that yer wives does be dhramin\u2019 iv ye\nall the time and worshippin\u2019 the ground ye thrid? Not a bit iv it! They\ndo be wantin\u2019\u2014aye and thryin\u2019 too\u2014to help God away wid ye!\u201d\n\n\u201cAndy,\u201d said I, \u201cyou preach, on a practical text, a sermon that any\nand every young man ought to hear!\u201d I thought I saw an opening here for\ngaining some information and jumped in.\n\n\u201cBy Jove! you set me off wishing to marry! Tell me, is there any pretty\ngirl in this neighbourhood that would suit a young man like me?\u201d\n\n\u201cOho! begor, there\u2019s girruls enough to shute any man.\u201d\n\n\u201cAye, Andy\u2014but pretty girls!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell surr, that depinds. Now what might be yer \u2019anr\u2019s idea iv a purty\ngirrul?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear Andy, there are so many different kinds of prettiness that it\nis hard to say.\u201d\n\n\u201cFaix, an\u2019 I\u2019ll tell ye if there\u2019s a girrul to shute in the counthry,\nfor bedad I think I\u2019ve seen thim all. But you must let me know what\nwould shute ye best?\u201d\n\n\u201cHow can I well tell that, Andy, when I don\u2019t know myself? Show me the\ngirl, and I\u2019ll very soon tell you.\u201d\n\n\u201cUnless I was to ax yer \u2019an\u2019r questions!\u201d this was said very slily.\n\n\u201cGo on, Andy! there is nothing like the Socratic method.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well thin! I\u2019ll ax two kinds iv things, an\u2019 yer \u2019an\u2019r will tell\nme which ye\u2019d like the best!\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right, go on.\u201d\n\n\u201cLong or short?\u201d\n\n\u201cTall; not short, certainly.\u201d\n\n\u201cFat or lane?\u201d\n\n\u201cFie! fie! Andy, for shame; you talk as if they were cattle or pigs.\u201d\n\n\u201cBegor, there\u2019s only wan kind iv fat an\u2019 lane that I knows of; but av\nye like I\u2019ll call it thick or thin; which is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot too fat, but certainly not skinny.\u201d Andy held up his hands in mock\nhorror:\u2014\n\n\u201cYer \u2019an\u2019r shpakes as if ye was talkin\u2019 iv powlthry.\u201d\n\n\u201cI mean Andy,\u201d said I with a certain sense of shame, \u201cshe is not to be\neither too fat or too lean, as you put it.\u201d\n\n\u201cYe mane \u2018shtreaky\u2019!\u201d\n\n\u201cStreaky!\u201d said I, \u201cwhat do you mean?\u201d He answered promptly:\u2014\n\n\u201cShtreaky,\u2014thick an\u2019 thin\u2014like belly bacon.\u201d I said nothing. I felt\ncertain it would be useless and out of place. He went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cNixt, fair or dark?\u201d\n\n\u201cDark, by all means.\u201d\n\n\u201cDark be it, surr. What kind iv eyes might she have?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! eyes like darkness on the bosom of the azure deep!\u201d\n\n\u201cMusha! but that\u2019s a quare kind iv eye fur a girrul to have intirely!\nIs she to be all dark, surr, or only the hair of her?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t mean a nigger, Andy!\u201d I thought I would be even with him for\nonce in a way. He laughed heartily.\n\n\u201cOh! my but that\u2019s a good wan. Be the hokey, a girrul can be dark\nenough fur any man widout bein\u2019 a naygur. Glory be to God, but I niver\nseen a faymale naygur meself, but I suppose there\u2019s such things; God\u2019s\nvery good to all his craythurs! But, barrin\u2019 naygurs, must she be all\ndark?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell not of necessity, but I certainly prefer what we call a brunette.\u201d\n\n\u201cA bru-net. What\u2019s that now; I\u2019ve heerd a wheen o\u2019 quare things in me\ntime, but I niver heerd a woman called that before.\u201d\n\nI tried to explain the term; he seemed to understand, but his only\ncomment was:\u2014\n\n\u201cWell, God is very good,\u201d and then went on with his queries.\n\n\u201cHow might she be dressed?\u201d he looked very sly as he asked the question.\n\n\u201cSimply! The dress is not particular\u2014that can easily be altered. For\nmyself, just at present, I should like her in the dress they all wear\nhere, some pretty kind of body and a red petticoat.\u201d\n\n\u201cThrue for ye!\u201d said Andy. Then he went over the list ticking off the\nitems on his fingers as he went along:\u2014\n\n\u201cA long, dark girrul, like belly bakin, but not a naygur, some kind iv\na net, an\u2019 wid a rid petticoat, an\u2019 a quare kind iv an eye! Is that the\nkind iv a girrul that yer \u2019an\u2019r wants to set yer eyes on?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said I, \u201citem by item, as you explain them, Andy, the\ndescription is correct; but I must say, that never in my life did I\nknow a man to so knock the bottom out of romance as you have done in\nsumming-up the lady\u2019s charms.\u201d\n\n\u201cHer charrums, is it? Be the powers! I only tuk what yer \u2019an\u2019r tould\nme. An\u2019 so that\u2019s the girrul that id shute yer?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes! Andy. I think she would.\u201d I waited in expectation, but he said\nnothing. So I jogged his memory:\u2014\n\n\u201cWell!\u201d He looked at me in a most peculiar manner, and said slowly and\nimpressively:\u2014\n\n\u201cThin I can sahtisfy yer \u2019an\u2019r. There\u2019s no such girrul in all\nKnocknacar!\u201d I smiled a smile of triumph:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re wrong for once, Andy. I saw such a girl only yesterday, here on\nthe top of this mountain, just where we\u2019re sitting now.\u201d\n\nAndy jumped up as if he had been sitting on an ant-hill, and had\nsuddenly been made aware of it. He looked all round in a frightened\nway, but I could see that he was only acting, and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cGlory be to God! but maybe it\u2019s the fairies, it was, or the pixies!\nShure they do say that there\u2019s lots an\u2019 lots an\u2019 lashins iv them on\nthis hill. Don\u2019t ye have nothin\u2019 to say to thim, surr! There\u2019s only\nsorra follys thim. Take an ould man\u2019s advice, an\u2019 don\u2019t come up here\nany more. The shpot is dangerous to ye. If ye want to see a fine girrul\ngo to Shleenanaher, an\u2019 have a good luk at Miss Norah in the daylight.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, bother Miss Norah!\u201d said I. \u201cGet along with you\u2014do! I think\nyou\u2019ve got Miss Norah on the brain; or perhaps you\u2019re in love with her\nyourself.\u201d Andy murmured _sotto voce_, but manifestly for me to hear:\u2014\n\n\u201cBegor, I am, like the rist iv the bhoys\u2014av course!\u201d\n\nHere I looked at my watch, and found it was three o\u2019clock, so thought\nit was time to get rid of him.\n\n\u201cHere,\u201d said I \u201crun down to the men at the cutting and tell them that\nI\u2019m coming down presently to measure up their work, as Mr. Sutherland\nwill want to know how they\u2019ve got on.\u201d\n\nAndy moved off. Before going, however, he had something to say, as\nusual:\u2014\n\n\u201cTell me, Misther Art\u201d\u2014this new name startled me, Andy had evidently\ntaken me into his public family\u2014\u201cdo ye think Misther Dick\u201d\u2014this was\nanother surprise\u2014\u201chas an eye on Miss Norah?\u201d There was a real shock\nthis time.\n\n\u201cI see him lukin\u2019 at her wance or twice as if he\u2019d like to ate her;\nbut, bedad, it\u2019s no use if he has, for she wouldn\u2019t luk at him. No\nwondher! an\u2019 him helpin\u2019 to be takin\u2019 her father\u2019s houldin\u2019 away from\nhim.\u201d\n\nI could not answer Andy\u2019s question as to poor old Dick\u2019s feelings, for\nsuch was his secret, and not mine; but I determined not to let there\nbe any misapprehension regarding his having a hand in Murdock\u2019s dirty\nwork, so I spoke hotly:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou tell anyone that dares to say that Dick Sutherland has any act or\npart, good or bad\u2014large or small\u2014in that dirty ruffian\u2019s dishonourable\nconduct, that he is either a knave or a fool\u2014at any rate he is a liar!\nDick is simply a man of science engaged by Murdock, as any other man of\nscience might be, to look after some operations in regard to his bog.\u201d\n\nAndy\u2019s comment was made _sotto voce_, so I thought it better not to\nnotice it.\n\n\u201cMusha! but the bogs iv all kinds is gettin\u2019 mixed up quarely. Here\u2019s\nanother iv them. Misther Dick is engaged to luk afther the bogs. An\u2019 so\nhe does, but his eyes goes wandherin\u2019 among thim. There does be bogs iv\nall kinds now all over these parts. It\u2019s quare times we\u2019re in, or I\u2019m\ngettin\u2019 ould!\u201d\n\nWith this Parthian shaft Andy took himself down the hill, and presently\nI saw the good effects of his presence in stimulating the workmen to\nmore ardent endeavours, for they all leaned on their spades whilst he\ntold them a long story, which ended in a tumult of laughter.\n\nI might have enjoyed the man\u2019s fun, but I was in no laughing humour. I\nhad got anxious long ago because _she_ had not visited the hill-top.\nI looked all round, but could see no sign of her anywhere. I waited\nand waited, and the time truly went on leaden wings. The afternoon sun\nsmote the hill-top with its glare, more oppressive always than even the\nnoontide heat.\n\nI lingered on and lingered still, and hope died within me.\n\nWhen six o\u2019clock had come I felt that there was no more chance for me\nthat day; so I went sadly down the hill, and, after a glance for Dick\u2019s\nsake at the cutting, sought the sheebeen where Andy had the horse ready\nharnessed in the car. I assumed as cheerful an aspect as I could, and\nflattered myself that I carried off the occasion very well. It was not\nat all flattering, however, to my histrionic powers to hear Andy, as\nwe were driving off, whisper in answer to a remark deploring how sad I\nlooked, made by the old lady who kept the sheebeen:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhisht! Don\u2019t appear to notice him, or ye\u2019ll dhrive him mad. Me\nopinion is that he\u2019s been wandherin\u2019 on the mountain too long, an\u2019\ntamperin\u2019 wid the rings on the grass\u2014you know\u2014an\u2019 that he has seen the\nfairies!\u201d Then he said aloud and ostentatiously:\u2014\n\n\u201cGee up! ye ould corncrake\u2014ye ought to be fresh enough\u2014ye\u2019ve niver left\nthe fut iv the hill all the day,\u201d\u2014then turning to me, \u201cAn\u2019 sure, surr,\nit\u2019s goin\u2019 to the top that takes it out iv wan\u2014ayther a horse or a man.\u201d\n\nI made no answer, and in silence we drove to Carnaclif, where I found\nDick impatiently waiting dinner for me.\n\nI was glad to find that he was full of queries concerning the cutting,\nfor it saved me from the consideration of subjects more difficult to\nanswer satisfactorily. Fortunately I was able to give a good account\nof the time spent, for the work done had far exceeded my expectations.\nI thought that Dick was in much better spirits than he had been; but\nit was not until the subject of the bog at Knocknacar was completely\nexhausted that I got any clue on the subject. I then asked Dick if he\nhad had a good time at Shleenanaher?\n\n\u201cYes!\u201d he answered. \u201cThank God! the work is nearly done. We went over\nthe whole place to-day and there was only one indication of iron. This\nwas in the bog just beside an elbow where Joyce\u2019s land\u2014his present\nland\u2014touches ours; no! I mean on Murdock\u2019s, the scoundrel!\u201d He was\nquite angry with himself for using the word \u201cours\u201d even accidentally.\n\n\u201cAnd has anything come of it?\u201d I asked him.\n\n\u201cNothing! Now that he knows it is there, he would not let me go near\nit on any account. I\u2019m in hopes he\u2019ll quarrel with me soon in order to\nget rid of me, so that he may try by himself to fish it\u2014whatever it may\nbe\u2014out of the bog. If he does quarrel with me! Well! I only hope he\nwill; I have been longing for weeks past to get a chance at him. Then\nshe\u2019ll believe, perhaps\u2014\u2014\u201d He stopped.\n\n\u201cYou saw her to-day, Dick!\u201d\n\n\u201cHow did you know that?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause you look so happy, old man!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes! I did see her; but only for a moment. She drove up in the middle\nof the day, and I saw her go up to the new house. But she didn\u2019t even\nsee me,\u201d and his face fell. Presently he asked:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou didn\u2019t see your girl?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, Dick, I did not! But how did you know?\u201d\n\n\u201cI saw it in your face when you came in!\u201d\n\nWe sat and smoked in silence. The interruption came in the shape of\nAndy:\u2014\n\n\u201cI suppose, Masther Art, the same agin to-morra\u2014unless ye\u2019d like me\nto bring ye wid Masther Dick to see Shleenanaher\u2014ye know the shpot,\nsurr\u2014where Miss Norah is!\u201d\n\nHe grinned, and as we said nothing, made his exit.\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER VIII.\n\n                           A VISIT TO JOYCE.\n\n\nWith renewed hope I set out in the morning for Knocknacar.\n\nIt is one of the many privileges of youth that a few hours\u2019 sleep will\nchange the darkest aspect of the entire universe to one of the rosiest\ntint. Since the previous evening, sleeping and waking, my mind had been\nframing reasons and excuses for the absence of...!\u2014it was a perpetual\ngrief to me that I did not even know her name. The journey to the\nmountain seemed longer than usual; but, even at the time, this seemed\nto me only natural under the circumstances.\n\nAndy was to-day seemingly saturated or overwhelmed with a superstitious\ngravity. Without laying any personal basis for his remarks, but\naccepting as a stand-point his own remark of the previous evening\nconcerning my having seen a fairy, he proceeded to develop his fears\non the subject. I will do him the justice to say that his knowledge\nof folklore was immense, and that nothing but a gigantic memory\nfor detail, cultivated to the full, or else an equally stupendous\nimagination working on the facts that momentarily came before his\nview, could have enabled him to keep up such a flow of narrative and\nlegend. The general result to me was, that if I had been inclined to\nbelieve such matters I would have remained under the impression that,\nalthough the whole seaboard, with adjacent mountains, from Westport\nto Galway, was in a state of plethora as regards uncanny existences,\nKnocknacar, as a habitat for such, easily bore off the palm. Indeed,\nthat remarkable mountain must have been a solid mass of gnomes,\nfairies, pixies, leprachauns, and all genii, species and varieties\nof the same. No Chicago grain-elevator in the early days of a wheat\ncorner could have been more solidly packed. It would seem that so\nmany inhabitants had been allured by fairies, and consequently had\nmysteriously disappeared, that this method of minimisation of the\ncensus must have formed a distinct drain on the local population,\nwhich, by the way, did not seem to be excessive.\n\nI reserved to myself the right of interrogating Andy on this subject\nlater in the day, if, unhappily, there should be any opportunity. Now\nthat we had drawn near the hill, my fears began to return.\n\nWhilst Andy stabled the mare I went to the cutting and found the\nmen already at work. During the night there had evidently been a\nconsiderable drainage from the cutting, not from the bog but entirely\nlocal. This was now Friday morning, and I thought that if equal\nprogress were made in the two days, it would be quite necessary that\nDick should see the working on Sunday, and advise before proceeding\nfurther.\n\nAs I knew that gossip and the requirements of his horse would keep Andy\naway for a little while, I determined to take advantage of his absence\nto run up to the top of the hill, just to make sure that no one was\nthere. It did not take long to get up, but when I arrived there was no\nreward, except in the shape of a very magnificent view. The weather was\nevidently changing, for great clouds seemed to gather from the west and\nsouth, and far away over the distant rim of the horizon the sky was as\ndark as night. Still the clouds were not hurrying as before a storm,\nand the gloom did not seem to have come shoreward as yet; it was rather\na presage of prolonged bad weather than bad itself. I did not remain\nlong, as I wished to escape Andy\u2019s scrutiny. Indeed, as I descended the\nhill I began to think that Andy had become like the \u201cOld Man of the\nSea,\u201d and that my own experience seemed likely to rival that of Sinbad.\n\nWhen I arrived at the cutting I found Andy already seated, enjoying his\npipe. When he saw me he looked up with a grin, and said audibly:\u2014\n\n\u201cThe Good People don\u2019t seem to be workin\u2019 so \u2019arly in the mornin\u2019! Here\nhe is safe an\u2019 sound amongst us.\u201d\n\nThat was a very long day. Whenever I thought I could do so, without\nattracting too much attention, I strolled to the top of the hill, but\nonly to suffer a new disappointment.\n\nAt dinner-time I went up and sat all the time. I was bitterly\ndisappointed, and also began to be seriously alarmed. I seemed to have\nlost my unknown.\n\nWhen the men got back to their work, and I saw Andy beginning to climb\nthe hill in an artless, purposeless manner, I thought I would kill\ntwo birds with one stone, and, whilst avoiding my incubus, make some\ninquiries. As I could easily see from the top of the hill, there were\nonly a few houses all told in the little hamlet; and including those\nmost isolated, there were not twenty in all. Of these I had been in the\nsheebeen and in old Sullivan\u2019s, so that a stroll of an hour or two,\nproperly organized, would cover the whole ground; and so I set out on\nmy task to try and get some sight or report of my unknown. I knew I\ncould always get an opportunity of opening conversation by asking for a\nlight for my cigar.\n\nIt was a profitless task. Two hours after I had started I returned to\nthe top of the hill as ignorant as I had gone, and the richer only by\nsome dozen or more drinks of milk, for I found that the acceptance of\nsome form of hospitality was an easy opening to general conversation.\nThe top was still empty, but I had not been there a quarter of an hour\nwhen I was joined by Andy. His first remark was evidently calculated to\nset me at ease:\u2014\n\n\u201cBegor, yer \u2019an\u2019r comes to the top iv this hill nigh as often as I do\nmeself.\u201d\n\nI felt that my answer was inconsequential as well as ill-tempered:\u2014\n\n\u201cWell, why on earth, Andy, do you come so often? Surely there is no\nneed to come, unless you like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cFaix! I came this time lest yer \u2019an\u2019r might feel lonely. I niver see a\nman yit be himself on top iv a hill that he didn\u2019t want a companion\u2014iv\nsome kind or another.\u201d\n\n\u201cAndy,\u201d I remarked, as I thought, rather cuttingly, \u201cyou judge life\nand men too much by your own experience. There are people and emotions\nwhich are quite out of your scope\u2014far too high, or perhaps too low, for\nyour psychic or intellectual grasp.\u201d\n\nAndy was quite unabashed. He looked at me admiringly.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a pity yer \u2019an\u2019r isn\u2019t a mimber iv Parlyment. Shure, wid a flow\niv language like that, ye could do anythin\u2019!\u201d\n\nAs satire was no use I thought I would draw him out on the subject of\nthe fairies and pixies.\n\n\u201cI suppose you were looking for more fairies; the supply you had this\nmorning was hardly enough to suit you, was it?\u201d\n\n\u201cBegor, it\u2019s meself is not the only wan that does be lukin\u2019 for the\nfairies!\u201d and he grinned.\n\n\u201cWell, I must say, Andy, you seem to have a good supply on hand.\nIndeed, it seems to me that if there were any more fairies to be\nlocated on this hill it would have to be enlarged, for it\u2019s pretty\nsolid with them already, so far as I can gather.\u201d\n\n\u201cAugh! there\u2019s room for wan more! I\u2019m tould there\u2019s wan missin\u2019 since\nere yistherday.\u201d\n\nIt was no good trying to beat Andy at this game, so I gave it up and\nsat silent. After a while he asked me:\u2014\n\n\u201cWill I be dhrivin\u2019 yer \u2019an\u2019r over to Knockcalltecrore?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy do you ask me?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m thinking it\u2019s glad yer \u2019an\u2019r will be to see Miss Norah.\u201d\n\n\u201cUpon my soul, Andy, you are too bad. A joke is a joke, but there are\nlimits to it; and I don\u2019t let any man joke with me when I prefer not.\nIf you want to talk of your Miss Norah, go and talk to Mr. Sutherland\nabout her. He\u2019s there every day and can make use of your aid! Why on\nearth do you single me out as your father confessor? You\u2019re unfair to\nthe girl, after all, for if I ever do see her I\u2019m prepared to hate her.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! yer \u2019an\u2019r wouldn\u2019t be that hard! What harrum has the poor crathur\ndone that ye\u2019d hate her\u2014a thing no mortial man iver done yit?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, go on! don\u2019t bother me any more; I think it\u2019s about time we were\ngetting home. You go down to the sheebeen and rattle up that old\ncorncrake of yours; I\u2019ll come down presently and see how the work goes\non.\u201d\n\nHe went off, but came back as usual; I could have thrown something at\nhim.\n\n\u201cTake me advice, surr\u2014pay a visit to Shleenanaher, an\u2019 see Miss Norah!\u201d\nand he hurried down the hill.\n\nHis going did me no good; no one came, and after a lingering glance\naround, and noting the gathering of the rain clouds, I descended the\nhill.\n\nWhen I got up on the car I was not at all in a talkative humour, and\nsaid but little to the group surrounding me. I heard Andy account for\nit to them:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhisht! don\u2019t notice his \u2019an\u2019r\u2019s silence! It\u2019s stupid wid shmokin\u2019\nhe is. He lit no less nor siventeen cigars this blissed day. Ax the\nneighbours av ye doubt me. Gee up!\u201d\n\nThe evening was spent with Dick as the last had been. I knew that he\nhad seen his girl; he knew that I had not seen mine, but neither had\nanything to tell. Before parting he told me that he expected to shortly\nfinish his work at Knockcalltecrore, and asked me if I would come over.\n\n\u201cDo come,\u201d he said, when I expressed a doubt. \u201cDo come, I may want a\nwitness,\u201d so I promised to go.\n\nAndy had on his best suit, and a clean wash, when he met us smiling in\nthe early morning, \u201cLook at him,\u201d I said, \u201cwouldn\u2019t you know he was\ngoing to meet his best girl?\u201d\n\n\u201cBegor,\u201d he answered, \u201cmayhap we\u2019ll all do that same!\u201d\n\nIt was only ten o\u2019clock when we arrived at Knockcalltecrore, and went\nup the boreen to Murdock\u2019s new farm. The Gombeen Man was standing at\nthe gate with his watch in his hand. When we came up, he said:\u2014\n\n\u201cI feared you would be late. It\u2019s just conthract time now. Hadn\u2019t\nye betther say good-bye to your frind an\u2019 git to work?\u201d He was so\ntransparently inclined to be rude, and possibly to pick a quarrel, that\nI whispered a warning to Dick. To my great satisfaction he whispered\nback:\u2014\n\n\u201cI see he wants to quarrel; nothing in the world will make me lose\ntemper to-day.\u201d Then he took out his pocket-book, searched for and\nfound a folded paper; opening this he read: \u201c\u2018and the said Richard\nSutherland shall be at liberty to make use of such assistant as he may\nchoose or appoint whensoever he may wish during the said engagement\nat his own expense.\u2019 You see, Mr. Murdock, I am quite within the four\nwalls of the agreement, and exercise my right. I now tell you formally\nthat Mr. Arthur Severn has kindly undertaken to assist me for to-day.\u201d\nMurdock glared at him for a minute, and then opened the gate and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cCome in, gintlemin.\u201d We entered.\n\n\u201cNow, Mr. Murdoch!\u201d said Dick, briskly, \u201cwhat do you wish done to-day?\nShall we make further examination of the bog where the iron indication\nis, or shall we finish the survey of the rest of the land?\u201d\n\n\u201cFinish the rough survey!\u201d\n\nThe operation was much less complicated than when we had examined the\nbog. We simply \u201cquartered\u201d the land, as the Constabulary say when they\nmake search for hidden arms; and taking it bit by bit, passed the\nmagnet over its surface. We had the usual finds of nails, horseshoes,\nand scrap iron, but no result of importance. The last place we examined\nwas the house. It was a much better built and more roomy structure\nthan the one he had left. It was not, however, like the other, built\non a rock, but in a sheltered hollow. Dick pointed out this to me, and\nremarked:\u2014\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know but that Joyce is better off, all told, in the exchange.\nI wouldn\u2019t care myself to live in a house built in a place like this,\nand directly in the track of the bog.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot even,\u201d said I, \u201cif Norah was living in it too?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, that\u2019s another thing! With Norah I\u2019d take my chance and live in\nthe bog itself, if I could get no other place.\u201d\n\nWhen this happened, our day\u2019s work was nearly done, and very soon we\ntook our leave for the evening, Murdock saying, as I thought rather\noffensively:\u2014\n\n\u201cNow, you, sir, be sure to be here in time on Monday morning.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right!\u201d said Dick, nonchalantly; and we passed out. In the boreen,\nhe said to me:\u2014\n\n\u201cLet us stroll up this way, Art,\u201d and we walked up the hill towards\nJoyce\u2019s house, Murdock coming down to his gate and looking at us. When\nwe came to Joyce\u2019s gate, we stopped. There was no sign of Norah; but\nJoyce himself stood at his door. I was opening the gate when he came\nforward.\n\n\u201cGood evening, Mr. Joyce,\u201d said I. \u201cHow is your arm? I hope quite well\nby this time. Perhaps you don\u2019t remember me\u2014I had the pleasure of\ngiving you a seat up here in my car, from Mrs. Kelligan\u2019s, the night\nof the storm.\u201d\n\n\u201cI remember well,\u201d he said; \u201cand I was thankful to you, for I was in\ntrouble that night\u2014it\u2019s all done now.\u201d And he looked round the land\nwith a sneer, and then he looked yearningly towards his old farm.\n\n\u201cLet me introduce my friend, Mr. Sutherland,\u201d said I.\n\n\u201cI ask yer pardon, sir. An\u2019 I don\u2019t wish to be rude\u2014but I don\u2019t want to\nknow him. He\u2019s no frind to me and mine!\u201d\n\nDick\u2019s honest, manly face grew red with shame. I thought he was going\nto say something angrily, so cut in as quickly as I could:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou are sadly mistaken, Mr. Joyce; Dick Sutherland is too good a\ngentleman to do wrong to you or any man. How can you think such a\nthing?\u201d\n\n\u201cA man what consorts wid me enemy can be no frind of mine!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut he doesn\u2019t consort with him; he hates him. He was simply engaged\nto make certain investigations for him as a scientific man. Why, I\ndon\u2019t suppose you yourself hate Murdock more than Dick does.\u201d\n\n\u201cThin I ax yer pardon, sir,\u201d said Joyce. \u201cI like to wrong no man, an\u2019\nI\u2019m glad to be set right.\u201d\n\nThings were going admirably, and we were all beginning to feel at ease,\nwhen we saw Andy approach. I groaned in spirit\u2014Andy was gradually\ntaking shape to me as an evil genius. He approached, and making his\nbest bow, said:\u2014\n\n\u201cFine evenin\u2019, Misther Joyce. I hope yer arrum is betther\u2014an\u2019 how is\nMiss Norah?\u201d\n\n\u201cThank ye kindly, Andy; both me arm and the girl\u2019s well.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs she widin?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! she wint this mornin\u2019 to stay over Monday in the convent. Poor\ngirl! she\u2019s broken-hearted, lavin\u2019 her home and gettin\u2019 settled here. I\nmed the changin\u2019 as light for her as I could\u2014but weemin takes things to\nheart more nor min does, an\u2019 that\u2019s bad enough, God knows!\u201d\n\n\u201cThrue for ye,\u201d said Andy. \u201cThis gintleman here, Masther Art, says he\nhasn\u2019t seen her since the night she met us below in the dark.\u201d\n\n\u201cI hope,\u201d said Joyce, \u201cyou\u2019ll look in and see us, if you\u2019re in these\nparts, sir, whin she comes back. I know she thought a dale of your\nkindness to me that night.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll be here for some days, and I\u2019ll certainly come, if I may.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I hope I may come, too, Mr. Joyce,\u201d said Dick, \u201cnow that you know\nme.\u201d\n\n\u201cYe\u2019ll be welkim, sir.\u201d\n\nWe all shook hands, coming away; but as we turned to go home, at the\ngate we had a surprise. There, in the boreen, stood Murdock\u2014livid with\nfury. He attacked Dick with a tirade of the utmost virulence. He called\nhim every name he could lay his tongue to\u2014traitor, liar, thief, and\nindeed exhausted the whole terminology of abuse, and accused him of\nstealing his secrets and of betraying his trust. Dick bore the ordeal\nsplendidly; he never turned a hair, but calmly went on smoking his\ncigar. When Murdock had somewhat exhausted himself and stopped, he said\ncalmly:\u2014\n\n\u201cMy good fellow, now that your ill-manners are exhausted, perhaps you\nwill tell me what it is all about?\u201d\n\nWhereupon Murdock opened again the vials of his wrath. This time he\ndragged us all into it\u2014I had been brought in as a spy, to help in\nbetraying him, and Joyce had suborned him to the act of treachery. For\nmyself I fired up at once, and would have struck him, only that Dick\nlaid his hand on me, and in a whisper cautioned me to desist.\n\n\u201cEasy, old man\u2014easy! Don\u2019t spoil a good position. What does it matter\nwhat a man like that can say? Give him rope enough! we\u2019ll have our turn\nin time, don\u2019t fear!\u201d\n\nI held back, but unfortunately Joyce pressed forwards. He had his say\npretty plainly.\n\n\u201cWhat do ye mane, ye ill-tongued scoundhrel, comin\u2019 here to make a\nquarrel? Why don\u2019t ye shtay on the land you have robbed from me, and\nlave us alone? I am not like these gintlemen here, that can afford to\nhould their tongues and despise ye\u2014I\u2019m a man like yerself, though I\nhope I\u2019m not the wolf that ye are\u2014fattenin\u2019 on the blood of the poor!\nHow dare you say I suborned any one\u2014me that never told a lie, or done a\ndirty thing in me life? I tell you, Murtagh Murdock, I put my mark upon\nye once\u2014I see it now comin\u2019 up white through the red of yer passion!\nDon\u2019t provoke me further, or I\u2019ll put another mark on ye that ye\u2019ll\ncarry to yer grave!\u201d\n\nNo one said a word more. Murdock moved off and entered his own house;\nDick and I said \u201cgood night\u201d to Joyce again, and went down the boreen.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER IX.\n\n                           MY NEW PROPERTY.\n\n\nThe following week was a time to me of absolute bitterness. I went each\nday to Knocknacar, where the cutting was proceeding at a rapid rate. I\nhaunted the hill-top, but without the slightest result. Dick had walked\nover with me on Sunday, and had been rejoiced at the progress made; he\nsaid that if all went well we could about Friday next actually cut into\nthe bog. Already there was a distinct infiltration through the cutting,\nand we discussed the best means to achieve the last few feet of the\nwork so as not in any way to endanger the safety of the men working.\n\nAll this time Dick was in good spirits. His meeting with Norah\u2019s father\nhad taken a great and harrowing weight off his mind, and to him all\nthings were now possible in the future. He tried his best to console\nme for my disappointment. He was full of hope\u2014indeed he refused to\nsee anything but a delay, and I could see that in his secret heart he\nwas not altogether sorry that my love affair had received a temporary\ncheck. This belief was emphasized by the tendency of certain of\nhis remarks to the effect that marriages between persons of unequal\nsocial status were inadvisable\u2014he, dear old fellow, seemingly in his\ntransparent honesty unaware that he was laying himself out with all his\npower to violate his own principles.\n\nBut all the time I was simply heartbroken. To say that I was consumed\nwith a burning anxiety would be to understate the matter; I was simply\nin a fever. I could neither eat nor sleep satisfactorily, and\u2014sleeping\nor waking\u2014my brain was in a whirl of doubts, conjectures, fears and\nhopes. The most difficult part to bear was my utter inability to do\nanything. I could not proclaim my love or my loss on the hill-top; I\ndid not know where to make inquiries, and I had no idea who to inquire\nfor. I did not even like to tell Dick the full extent of my woes.\n\nLove has a modesty of its own, whose lines are boldly drawn, and whose\nrules are stern.\n\nOn more than one occasion I left the hotel secretly\u2014after having\nostensibly retired for the night\u2014and wended my way to Knocknacar. As\nI passed through the sleeping country I heard the dogs bark in the\ncottages as I went by, but little other sound I ever heard except the\nbooming of the distant sea. On more than one of these occasions I was\ndrenched with rain\u2014for the weather had now become thoroughly unsettled.\nBut I heeded it not; indeed the physical discomfort\u2014when I felt it\u2014was\nin some measure an anodyne to the torture of my restless soul.\n\nI always managed to get back before daylight, so as to avoid any\nquestioning. After three or four days, however, the \u201cboots\u201d of the\nhotel began evidently to notice the state of my clothes and boots, and\nventured to speak to me. He cautioned me against going out too much\nalone at night, as there were two dangers\u2014one from the moonlighters\nwho now and again raided the district, and who, being composed of the\nscum of the country-side\u2014\u201ccorner-boys\u201d and loafers of all kinds\u2014would\nbe only too glad to find an unexpected victim to rob; and the other,\nlest in wandering about I should get into trouble with the police under\nsuspicion of being one of these very ruffians.\n\nThe latter difficulty seemed to me to be even more obnoxious than\nthe former; and to avoid any suspicion I thought it best to make my\nnight wanderings known to all. Accordingly, I asked Mrs. Keating\nto have some milk and bread and butter left in my room each night,\nas I would probably require something after my late walk. When she\nexpressed surprise as to my movements, I told her that I was making a\nstudy of the beauty of the country by night, and was much interested\nin moonlight effects. This last was an unhappy setting forth of my\ndesires, for it went round in a whisper amongst the servants and others\noutside the hotel, until at last it reached the ears of an astute\nUlster-born policeman, from whom I was much surprised to receive a\nvisit one morning. I asked him to what the honour was due. His answer\nspoke for itself:\u2014\n\n\u201cFrom information received A come to talk till ye regardin\u2019 the\ninterest ye profess to take in moon-lichtin\u2019.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat on earth do you mean?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u201cA hear ye\u2019re a stranger in these parts\u2014an\u2019 as ye might take away a\nwrong impression weth ye\u2014A thenk it ma duty to tell ye that the people\nround here are nothin\u2019 more nor less than leears\u2014an\u2019 that ye mustn\u2019t\nbelieve a sengle word they say.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally,\u201d said I, \u201cI am quite in the dark. Do try and explain. Tell me\nwhat it is all about.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, A larn that ye\u2019re always out at nicht all over the country,\nand that ye\u2019ve openly told people here that ye\u2019re interested in\nmoon-lichtin\u2019.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear sir, some one is quite mad! I never said such a thing\u2014indeed,\nI don\u2019t know anything about moon-lighting.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen why do ye go out at nicht?\u201d\n\n\u201cSimply to see the country at night\u2014to look at the views\u2014to enjoy\neffects of moonlight.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere ye are, ye see\u2014ye enjoy the moonlicht effect.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood lord! I mean the view\u2014the purely \u00e6sthetic effect\u2014the\nchiaroscuro\u2014the pretty pictures!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, aye! A see now\u2014A ken weel! Then A needn\u2019t trouble ye further.\nBut let ma tell ye that it\u2019s a dangerous practice to walk out be\nnicht. There\u2019s many a man in these parts watched and laid for. Why in\nKnockcalltecrore there\u2019s one man that\u2019s in danger all the time. An\u2019 as\nfor ye\u2014why ye\u2019d better be careful that yer nicht wanderins doesn\u2019t\nbring ye ento trouble,\u201d and he went away.\n\nAt last I got so miserable about my own love affair that I thought I\nmight do a good turn to Dick; and so I determined to try to buy from\nMurdock his holding on Knockcalltecrore, and then to give it to my\nfriend, as I felt that the possession of the place, with power to\nre-exchange with Joyce, would in no way militate against his interests\nwith Norah.\n\nWith this object in view I went out one afternoon to Knockcalltecrore,\nwhen I knew that Dick had arranged to visit the cutting at Knocknacar.\nI did not tell anyone where I was going, and took good care that Andy\nwent with Dick. I had acquired a dread of that astute gentleman\u2019s\ninferences.\n\nIt was well in the afternoon when I got to Knockcalltecrore. Murdock\nwas out at the edge of the bog making some investigations on his own\naccount with the aid of the magnets. He flew into a great rage when he\nsaw me, and roundly accused me of coming to spy upon him. I disclaimed\nany such meanness, and told him that he should be ashamed of such a\nsuspicion. It was not my cue to quarrel with him, so I restrained\nmyself as well as I could, and quietly told him that I had come on a\nmatter of business.\n\nHe was anxious to get me away from the bog, and took me into the house;\nhere I broached my subject to him, for I knew he was too astute a man\nfor my going round the question to be of any use.\n\nAt first my offer was a confirmation of his suspicion of me as a spy;\nand, indeed, he did not burke this aspect of the question in expressing\nhis opinion.\n\n\u201cOh, aye!\u201d he sneered. \u201cIsn\u2019t it likely I\u2019m goin\u2019 to give up me land\nto ye, so that ye may hand it over to Mr. Sutherland\u2014an\u2019 him havin\u2019\nsaycrets from me all the time\u2014maybe knowin\u2019 where what I want to find\nis hid. Didn\u2019t I know it\u2019s a thraitor he is, an\u2019 ye a shpy.\u201d\n\n\u201cDick Sutherland is no traitor and I am no spy. I wouldn\u2019t hear such\nwords from anyone else; but, unfortunately, I know already that your\nideas regarding us both are so hopelessly wrong that it\u2019s no use trying\nto alter them. I simply came here to make you an offer to buy this\npiece of land. The place is a pretty one, and I, or some friend of\nmine, may like some day to put up a house here. Of course if you don\u2019t\nwant to sell there\u2019s an end to the matter; but do try to keep a decent\ntongue in your head\u2014if you can.\u201d\n\nMy speech had evidently some effect on him, for he said:\u2014\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t mane any offinse\u2014an\u2019 as for sellin\u2019, I\u2019d sell anything in the\nwurrld av I got me price fur it!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell! why not enter on this matter? You\u2019re a man of the world, and so\nam I. I want to buy; I have money and can afford to give a good price,\nas it is a fancy with me. What objection have you to sell?\u201d\n\n\u201cYe know well enough I\u2019ll not sell\u2014not yit, at all evints. I wouldn\u2019t\npart wid a perch iv this land fur all ye cud offer\u2014not till I\u2019m done\nwid me sarch. I mane to get what I\u2019m lukin\u2019 fur\u2014if it\u2019s there!\u201d\n\n\u201cI quite understand! Well! I am prepared to meet you in the matter. I\nam willing to purchase the land\u2014it to be given over to me at whatever\ntime you may choose to name. Would a year suit you to make your\ninvestigations?\u201d\n\nHe thought for a moment\u2014then took out an old letter, and on the back of\nit made some calculations. Then he said:\u2014\n\n\u201cI suppose ye\u2019d pay the money down at wanst?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly,\u201d said I, \u201cthe very day I get possession.\u201d I had intended\npaying the money down, and waiting for possession as a sort of\ninducement to him to close with me; but there was so much greed in his\nmanner that I saw I would do better by holding off payment until I got\npossession. My judgment was correct, for his answer surprised me:\u2014\n\n\u201cA month \u2019ll do what I wanted; or, to be certain, say five weeks from\nto-day. But the money would have to be payed to the minit.\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly!\u201d said I. \u201cSuit yourself as to time, and let me know the\nterms, so that I can see if we agree. I suppose you will want to see\nyour attorney, so name any day to suit you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m me own attorney! Do ye think I\u2019d thrust any iv them wid me\naffairs? Whin I have a law suit I\u2019ll have thim, but not before. If ye\nwant to know me price I\u2019ll tell it to ye now.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo on,\u201d said I, concealing my delight as well as I could.\n\nHe accordingly named a sum which, to me, accustomed only as I had\nhitherto been to the price of land in a good English county, seemed\nvery small indeed.\n\n\u201cHe evidently thought he was driving a hard bargain, for he said with a\ncunning look:\u2014\n\n\u201cI suppose ye\u2019ll want to see lawyers and the like. So you may; but\nonly to see that ye get ye bargin hard and fast. I\u2019ll not discuss the\nterrums wid anyone else; an\u2019 if y\u2019 accept, ye must sign me a writin\u2019\nnow, that ye buy me land right here, an\u2019 that ye\u2019ll pay the money widin\na month before ye take possession on the day we fix.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right,\u201d said I. \u201cThat will suit me quite well. Make out your\npaper in duplicate, and we will both sign. Of course, you must put in\na clause guaranteeing title, and allowing the deed to be made with\nthe approval of my solicitor, not as to value, but as to form and\ncompleteness.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s fair!\u201d he said, and sat down to draw up his papers. He was\nevidently a bit of a lawyer\u2014a gombeen man must be\u2014and he knew the\npractical matters of law affecting things in which he was himself\ninterested. His Memorandum of Agreement was, so far as I could judge,\nquite complete and as concise as possible. He designated the land sold,\nand named the price which was to be paid into the account in his name\nin the Galway Bank before twelve o\u2019clock noon on the 27th September,\nor which might be paid in at an earlier date, with the deduction of\ntwo per cent. per annum as discount\u2014in which case the receipt was to be\ngiven in full and an undertaking to give possession at the appointed\ntime, namely Wednesday, 27 Oct., at 12 noon.\n\nWe both signed the memorandum, he having sent the old woman who came up\nfrom the village to cook for him for the old schoolmaster to witness\nthe signatures. I arranged that when I should have seen my solicitor\nand have had the deed proper drafted, I would see him again. I then\ncame away, and got back at the hotel a little while before Dick arrived.\n\nDick was in great spirits; his experiment with the bog had been quite\nsuccessful. The cutting had advanced so far that the clay wall hemming\nin the bog was actually weakened, and with a mining cartridge, prepared\nfor the purpose, he had blown up the last bit of bank remaining. The\nbog had straightway begun to pour into the opening, not merely from the\ntop, but simultaneously to the whole depth of the cutting.\n\n\u201cThe experience of that first half-hour of the rush,\u201d went on Dick,\n\u201cwas simply invaluable. I do wish you had been there, old fellow. It\nwas in itself a lesson on bogs and their reclamation.\u201d\n\nIt just suited my purpose that he should do all the talking at present,\nso I asked him to explain all that happened. He went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cThe moment the cartridge exploded the whole of the small clay bank\nremaining was knocked to bits and was carried away by the first rush.\nThere had evidently been a considerable accumulation of water just\nbehind the bank; and at the first rush this swept through the cutting\nand washed it clean. Then the bog at the top, and the water in the\nmiddle, and the ooze below all struggled for the opening. I could see\nthat the soft part of the bog actually floated. Naturally the water got\naway first. The bog proper, which was floating, jammed in the opening,\nand the ooze began to drain out below it. Of course, this was only the\nfirst rush; it will be running for days before things begin to settle;\nand then we shall be able to make some openings in the bog and see if\nmy theories are tenable, in so far as the solidification is concerned.\nI am only disappointed in one thing.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is that?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat it will not enlighten us much regarding the bog at Shleenanaher,\nfor I cannot find any indication here of a shelf of rock such as I\nimagine to be at the basis of the shifting bog. If I had had time I\nwould like to have made a cutting into some of the waste where the bog\nhad originally been. I daresay that Joyce would let me try now if I\nasked him.\u201d\n\nI had my own fun out of my answer:\u2014\n\n\u201cOh! I\u2019m sure he will; but even if he won\u2019t let you now, he may be\ninclined to in a month or two when things have settled down a bit.\u201d\n\nHis answer startled me.\n\n\u201cDo you know, Art, I fear it\u2019s quite on the cards that in a month or\ntwo there may be some settling down up there that may be serious for\nsome one.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow do you mean?\u201d\n\n\u201cSimply this\u2014that I am not at all satisfied about Murdock\u2019s house.\nThere is every indication of it being right in the track of the bog\nin case it should shift again; and I would not be surprised if that\nhollow where it stands was right over the deepest part of the natural\nreservoir, where the rock slopes into the ascending stratum. This wet\nweather looks bad; and already the bog has risen somewhat. If the rain\nlasts I wouldn\u2019t like to live in that house after five or six weeks.\u201d\n\nA thought struck me:\u2014\n\n\u201cDid you tell this to Murdock?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly! the moment the conviction was in my mind.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen was that now? just for curiosity!\u201d\n\n\u201cLast night, before I came away.\u201d A light began to dawn on me, as to\nMurdock\u2019s readiness to sell the land. I did not want to have to explain\nanything, so I did not mention the subject of my purchase, but simply\nasked Dick:\u2014\n\n\u201cAnd what did our upright friend say?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe said, in his own sweet manner, that it would last as long as he\nwanted it, and that after that it might go to hell\u2014and me too, he\nadded, with a thoughtfulness that was all his own.\u201d\n\nWhen I went to my room that night I thought over the matter. For good\nor ill I had bought the property, and there was no going back now;\nindeed I did not wish to go back, for I thought that it would be a fine\nopportunity for Dick to investigate the subject. If we could succeed in\ndraining the bog and reclaiming it, it would be a valuable addition to\nthe property.\n\nThat night I arranged to go over on the following day to Galway, my\nprivate purpose being to consult a solicitor; and I wrote to my bankers\nin London, directing that an amount something over the sum required\nto effect my purchase should be lodged forthwith to an account to be\nopened for me at the Galway Bank.\n\nNext day I drove to Galway, and there, after a little inquiry, found\na solicitor, Mr. Caicy, of whom every one spoke well. I consulted him\nregarding the purchase. He arranged to do all that was requisite,\nand to have the deed of purchase drawn. I told him that I wished the\nmatter kept a profound secret. He agreed to meet my wishes in this\nrespect, even to the extent that when he should come to Carnaclif to\nmake the final completion with Murdock, he would not pretend to know\nme. We parted on the best of terms, after I had dined with him, and had\nconsumed my share of a couple of bottles of as fine old port as is to\nbe had in all the world.\n\nNext day I returned to Carnaclif in the evening and met Dick.\n\nEverything had gone right during the two days. Dick was in great\nspirits; he had seen his Norah during the day, and had exchanged\nsalutations with her. Then he had gone to Knocknacar, and had seen a\ngreat change in the bog, which was already settling down into a more\nsolid form. I simply told him I had been to Galway to do some banking\nand other business. It was some consolation to me in the midst of my\nown unhappiness to know that I was furthering the happiness of my\nfriend.\n\nOn the third day from this Mr. Caicy was to be over with the deed,\nand the following day the sale was to be completed, I having arranged\nwith the bank to transfer on that day the purchase money for the\nsale to the account of Mr. Murdock. The two first days I spent\nmainly on Knocknacar, going over each day ostensibly to look at the\nprogress made in draining the bog, but in reality in the vain hope of\nseeing my unknown. Each time I went, my feet turned naturally to the\nhill-top; but on each visit I felt only a renewal of my sorrow and\ndisappointment. I walked on each occasion to and from the hill, and\non the second day\u2014which was Sunday\u2014went in the morning and sat on the\ntop many hours, in the hope that some time during the day, it being a\nholiday, she might be able to find her way there once again!\n\nWhen I got to the top, the chapel bells were ringing in all the\nparishes below me to the west, and very sweetly and peacefully the\nsounds came through the bright crisp September air. And in some degree\nthe sound brought peace to my soul, for there is so large a power in\neven the aspirations and the efforts of men towards good, that it\nradiates to unmeasurable distance. The wave theory that rules our\nknowledge of the distribution of light and sound, may well be taken\nto typify, if it does not control the light of divine love, and the\nbeating in unison of human hearts.\n\nI think that during these days I must have looked, as well as felt,\nmiserable; for even Andy did not make any effort to either irritate\nor draw me. On the Sunday evening, when I was on the strand behind\nthe hotel, he lounged along, in his own mysterious fashion, and after\nlooking at me keenly for a few moments, came up close, and said to me\nin a grave, pitying half-whisper:\u2014\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be afther breakin\u2019 yer harrt, yer \u2019an\u2019r. Divil mend the fairy\ngirrul. Sure isn\u2019t she vanished intirely? Mark me now! there\u2019s no\nsahtisfaction at all, at all, in them fairy girruls. Faix! but I\nwouldn\u2019t like to see a fine young gintleman like yer \u2019an\u2019r, become like\nYeoha, the Sigher, as they called him in the ould times.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who might that gentleman be, Andy?\u201d I asked, with what appearance\nof cheerful interest I could muster up.\n\n\u201cBegor! it\u2019s a prince he was that married onto a fairy girrul, what\nwint an\u2019 was tuk off be a fairy man what lived in the same mountain as\nshe done herself. Sure thim fairy girruls has mostly a fairy man iv\ntheir own somewheres, that they love betther nor they does mortials.\nJist you take me advice, Master Art, fur ye might do worser! Go an take\na luk at Miss Norah, an ye\u2019ll soon forgit the fairies. There\u2019s a rale\ngirrul av ye like!\u201d\n\nI was too sad to make any angry reply, and before I could think of any\nother kind, Andy lounged away whistling softly\u2014for he had, like many of\nhis class, a very sweet whistle\u2014the air of _Savourneen Deelish_.\n\nThe following day Mr. Caicy turned up at the hotel according to his\npromise. He openly told Mrs. Keating, of whom he had often before\nbeen a customer, that he had business with Mr. Murdock. He was, as\nusual with him, affable to all, \u201cpassing the time of day\u201d with the\nvarious inhabitants of all degrees, and, as if a stranger, entering\ninto conversation with me as we sat at lunch in the coffee-room. When\nwe were alone he whispered to me that all was ready; that he had\nmade an examination of the title, for which Murdock had sent him all\nthe necessary papers, and that the deed was complete and ready to be\nsigned. He told me he was going over that day to Knockcalltecrore, and\nwould arrange that he would be there the next day, and that he would\ntake care to have some one to witness the signatures.\n\nOn the following morning, when Dick went off with Andy to Knocknacar,\nand Mr. Caicy drove over to Knockcalltecrore, where I also shortly took\nmy way on another car.\n\nWe met at Murdock\u2019s house. The deed was duly completed, and Mr. Caicy\nhanded over to Murdock the letter from the bank that the lodgment had\nbeen made.\n\nThe land was now mine; and I was to have possession on the 27th of\nOctober. Mr. Caicy took the deed with him; and with it took also\ninstructions to draw out a deed making the property over to Richard\nSutherland. He went straight away to Galway; whilst I, in listless\ndespair, wandered out on the hillside to look at the view.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER X.\n\n                         IN THE CLIFF FIELDS.\n\n\nI went along the mountain-side until I came to the great ridge of\nrocks which, as Dick had explained to me, protected the lower end of\nMurdock\u2019s farm from the westerly wind. I climbed to the top to get a\nview, and then found that the ridge was continuous, running as far as\nthe Snake\u2019s Pass where I had first mounted it. Here, however, I was\nnot as then above the sea, for I was opposite what they had called the\nCliff Fields, and a very strange and beautiful sight it was.\n\nSome hundred and fifty feet below me was a plateau of seven or eight\nacres in extent, and some two hundred and fifty feet above the sea. It\nwas sheltered on the north by a high wall of rock like that I stood\non, serrated in the same way, as the strata ran in similar layers. In\nthe centre there rose a great rock with a flat top some quarter of an\nacre in extent. The whole plateau, save this one bare rock, was a mass\nof verdure. It was watered by a small stream which fell through a deep\nnarrow cleft in the rocks, where the bog drained itself from Murdock\u2019s\npresent land. The after-grass was deep, and there were many clumps\nof trees and shrubs\u2014none of them of considerable height except a few\ngreat stone-pines which towered aloft and dared the fury of the western\nbreeze. But not all the beauty of the scene could hold my eyes\u2014for\nseated on the rocky table in the centre, just as I had seen her on\nthe hill-top at Knocknacar, sat a girl to all intents the ditto of my\nunknown.\n\nMy heart gave a great bound, and in the tumult of hope that awoke\nwithin my breast the whole world seemed filled with sunshine. For an\ninstant I almost lost my senses; my knees shook, and my eyes grew dim.\nThen came a horrible suspense and doubt. It was impossible to believe\nthat I should see my unknown here when I least expected to see her. And\nthen came the man\u2019s desire of action.\n\nI do not know how I began. To this day I cannot make out whether I took\na bee-line for that isolated table of rock, and from where I was, slid\nor crawled down the face of the rock, or whether I made a detour to the\nsame end. All I can recollect is that I found myself scrambling over\nsome large boulders, and then passing through the deep heavy grass at\nthe foot of the rock.\n\nHere I halted to collect my thoughts\u2014a moment sufficed. I was too much\nin earnest to need any deliberation, and there was no choice of ways. I\nonly waited to be sure that I would not create any alarm by unnecessary\nviolence.\n\nThen I ascended the rock. I did not make more noise than I could help;\nbut I did not try to come silently. She had evidently heard steps, for\nshe spoke without turning round:\u2014\n\n\u201cAm I wanted?\u201d Then, as I was passing across the plateau, my step\nseemed to arouse her attention; for at a bound she leaped to her feet,\nand turned with a glad look that went through the shadow on my soul, as\nthe sunshine strikes through the mist.\n\n\u201cArthur!\u201d She almost rushed to meet me; but stopped suddenly\u2014for an\ninstant grew pale\u2014and then a red flush crimsoned her face and neck.\nShe put up her hands before her face, and I could see the tears drop\nthrough her fingers.\n\nAs for myself, I was half-dazed. When I saw that it was indeed my\nunknown, a wild joy leaped to my heart; and then came the revulsion\nfrom my long pent-up sorrow and anxiety; and as I faltered out\u2014\u201cAt\nlast! at last!\u201d\u2014the tears sprang unbidden to my eyes. There is, indeed,\na dry-eyed grief, but its corresponding joy is as often smit with\nsudden tears.\n\nIn an instant I was by her side, and had her hand in mine. It was only\nfor a moment, for she withdrew it with a low cry of maidenly fear\u2014but\nin that moment of gentle, mutual pressure, a whole world had passed,\nand we knew that we loved.\n\nWe were silent for a time, and then we sat together on a boulder\u2014she\nedging away from me shyly.\n\nWhat matters it of what we talked? There was not much to say\u2014nothing\nthat was new\u2014the old, old story that has been told since the days when\nAdam, waking, found that a new joy had entered into his life. For those\nwhose feet have wandered in Eden, there is no need to speak; for those\nwho are yet to tread the hallowed ground, there is no need either\u2014for\nin the fulness of time their knowledge will come.\n\nIt was not till we had sat some time that we exchanged any sweet\nwords\u2014they were sweet, although to any one but ourselves they would\nhave seemed the most absurd and soulless commonplaces.\n\nWe spoke, and that was all. It is of the nature of love that it can\nfrom airy nothings win its own celestial food!\n\nPresently I said\u2014and I pledge my word that this was the first speech\nthat either of us had made, beyond the weather and the view, and such\nlighter topics:\u2014\n\n\u201cWon\u2019t you tell me your name? I have so longed to know it, all these\nweary days.\u201d\n\n\u201cNorah\u2014Norah Joyce! I thought you knew.\u201d\n\nThis was said with a shy lifting of the eyelashes, which were as\nsuddenly and as shyly dropped again.\n\n\u201cNorah!\u201d As I spoke the word\u2014and my whole soul was in its speaking\u2014the\nhappy blush overspread her face again. \u201cNorah! What a sweet name!\nNorah! No, I did not know it; if I had known it, when I missed you from\nthe hill-top at Knocknacar, I should have sought you here.\u201d\n\nSomehow her next remark seemed to chill me:\u2014\n\n\u201cI thought you remembered me, from that night when father came home\nwith you?\u201d\n\nThere seemed some disappointment that I had so forgotten.\n\n\u201cThat night,\u201d I said, \u201cI did not see you at all. It was so dark, that I\nfelt like a blind man\u2014I only heard your voice.\u201d\n\n\u201cI thought you remembered my voice.\u201d\n\nThe disappointment was still manifest. Fool that I was!\u2014that voice,\nonce heard, should have sunk into my memory for ever.\n\n\u201cI thought your voice was familiar when I heard you on the hill-top;\nbut when I saw you, I loved you from that moment\u2014and then every other\nwoman\u2019s voice in the world went, for me, out of existence!\u201d She half\narose, but sat down again, and the happy blush once more mantled her\ncheek\u2014I felt that my peace was made. \u201cMy name is Arthur.\u201d Here a\nthought struck me\u2014struck me for the first time, and sent through me\na thrill of unutterable delight. The moment she had seen me she had\nmentioned my name\u2014all unconsciously, it is true\u2014but she had mentioned\nit. I feared, however, to alarm her by attracting her attention to it\nas yet, and went on:\u2014\u201cArthur Severn\u2014but I think you know it.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; I heard it mentioned up at Knocknacar.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho by?\u201d\n\n\u201cAndy the driver. He spoke to my aunt and me when we were driving down,\nthe day after we\u2014after we met on the hill-top the last time.\u201d\n\nAndy! And so my jocose friend knew all along! Well, wait! I must be\neven with him!\n\n\u201cYour aunt?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; my aunt Kate. Father sent me up to her, for he knew it would\ndistress me to see all our things moved from our dear old home\u2014all\nmy mother\u2019s things. And father would have been distressed to see me\ngrieved, and I to see him. It was kind of him; he is always so good to\nme.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is a good man, Norah\u2014I know that; I only hope he won\u2019t hate me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\u2014This was said very faintly.\n\n\u201cFor wanting to carry off his daughter. Don\u2019t go, Norah. For God\u2019s\nsake, don\u2019t go! I shall not say anything you do not wish; but if you\nonly knew the agony I have been in since I saw you last\u2014when I thought\nI had lost you\u2014you would pity me\u2014indeed you would! Norah, I love you!\nNo! you must listen to me\u2014you must! I want you to be my wife\u2014I shall\nlove and honour you all my life! Don\u2019t refuse me, dear; don\u2019t draw\nback\u2014for I love you!\u2014I love you!\u201d\n\nThere, it was all out. The pent-up waters find their own course.\n\nFor a minute, at least, Norah sat still. Then she turned to me very\ngravely, and there were tears in her eyes:\u2014\n\n\u201cOh, why did you speak like that, sir?\u2014why did you speak like that? Let\nme go!\u2014let me go! You must not try to detain me!\u201d\u2014I stood back, for we\nhad both risen\u2014\u201cI am conscious of your good intention\u2014of the honour\nyou do me\u2014but I must have time to think. Good-bye!\u201d\n\nShe held out her hand. I pressed it gently\u2014I dared not do more\u2014true\nlove is very timid at times!\u2014She bowed to me, and moved off.\n\nA sudden flood of despair rushed over me\u2014the pain of the days when I\nthought I had lost her could not be soon forgotten, and I feared that I\nmight lose her again.\n\n\u201cStay, Norah!\u2014stay one moment!\u201d She stopped and turned round. \u201cI may\nsee you again, may I not? Do not be cruel!\u2014may I not see you again?\u201d\n\nA sweet smile lit up the perplexed sadness of her face:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou may meet me here to-morrow evening, if you will,\u201d and she was gone.\n\nTo-morrow evening! Then there was hope; and with gladdened heart I\nwatched her pass across the pasture and ascend a path over the rocks.\nHer movements were incarnate grace; her beauty and her sweet presence\nfilled the earth and air. When she passed from my sight, the sunlight\nseemed to pale and the warm air to grow chill.\n\nFor a long while I sat on that table-rock, and my thoughts were of\nheavenly sweetness\u2014all, save one which was of earth\u2014one brooding fear\nthat all might not be well\u2014some danger I did not understand.\n\nAnd then I too arose, and took my way across the plateau, and climbed\nthe rock, and walked down the boreen on my way for Carnaclif.\n\nAnd then, and for the first time, did a thought strike me\u2014one which for\na moment made my blood run cold\u2014Dick!\n\nAye\u2014Dick! What about him? It came to me with a shudder, that my\nhappiness\u2014if it should be my happiness\u2014must be based on the pain of\nmy friend. Here, then, there was perhaps a clue to Norah\u2019s strange\ngravity! Could Dick have made a proposal to her? He admitted having\nspoken to her\u2014why should he, too, not have been impulsive? Why should\nit not be that he, being the first to declare himself, had got a\nfavourable answer, and that now Norah was not free to choose?\n\nHow I cursed the delay in finding her\u2014how I cursed and found fault with\neveryone and everything! Andy especially came in for my ill-will. He,\nat any rate, knew that my unknown of the hill-top at Knocknacar was\nnone other than Norah!\n\nAnd yet, stay! who but Andy persisted in turning my thoughts to Norah,\nand more than once suggested my paying a visit to Shleenanaher to see\nher? No! Andy must be acquitted at all points: common justice demanded\nthat. Who, then, was I to blame? Not Andy\u2014not Dick, who was too noble\nand too loyal a friend to give any cause for such a thought. Had he\nnot asked me at the first if the woman of my fancy was not, this very\nwoman; and had he not confessed his own love only when I answered him\nthat it was not? No! Dick must be acquitted from blame!\n\nAcquitted from blame! Was that justice? At present he was in the\nposition of a wronged man, and it was I who had wronged him\u2014in\nignorance certainly, but still the wrong was mine. And now what could\nI do? Should I tell Dick? I shrank from such a thing; and as yet\nthere was little to tell. Not till to-morrow evening should I know my\nfate; and might not that fate be such that it would be wiser not to\ntell Dick of it? Norah had asked for time to consider my offer. If it\nshould be that she had already promised Dick, and yet should have taken\ntime to consider another offer, would it be fair to tell Dick of such\nhesitation, even though the result was a loyal adherence to her promise\nto him? Would such be fair either to him or to her? No! he must not be\ntold\u2014as yet, at all events.\n\nHow, then, should I avoid telling him, in case the subject should crop\nup in the course of conversation? I had not told him of any of my late\nvisits to Knockcalltecrore, although, God knows! they were taken not\nin my own interest, but entirely in his; and now an explanation seemed\nimpossible.\n\nThus revolving the situation in my mind as I walked along, I came\nto the conclusion that the wisest thing I could do was to walk to\nsome other place and stay there for the night. Thus I might avoid\nquestioning altogether. On the morrow I could return to Carnaclif, and\ngo over to Shleenanaher at such a time that I might cross Dick on\nthe way, so that I might see Norah and get her answer without anyone\nknowing of my visit. Having so made up my mind, I turned my steps\ntowards Roundwood, and when I arrived there in the evening sent a wire\nto Dick:\u2014\n\n\u201cWalked here, very tired; sleep here to-night; probably return\nto-morrow.\u201d\n\nThe long walk did me good, for it made me thoroughly tired, and that\nnight, despite my anxiety of mind, I slept well\u2014I went to sleep with\nNorah\u2019s name on my lips.\n\nThe next day I arrived at Carnaclif about mid-day. I found that Dick\nhad taken Andy to Knockcalltecrore. I waited until it was time to\nleave, and then started off. About half a mile from the foot of the\nboreen I went and sat in a clump of trees, where I could not be seen,\nbut from which I could watch the road; and presently saw Dick passing\nalong on Andy\u2019s car. When they had quite gone out of sight, I went on\nmy way to the Cliff Fields.\n\nI went with mingled feelings. There was hope, there was joy at the\nremembrance of yesterday, there was expectation that I would see her\nagain\u2014even though the result might be unhappiness, there was doubt,\nand there was a horrible, haunting dread. My knees shook, and I felt\nweak as I climbed the rocks. I passed across the field and sat on the\ntable-rock.\n\nPresently she came to join me. With a queenly bearing she passed over\nthe ground, seeming to glide rather than to walk. She was very pale,\nbut as she drew near I could see in her eyes a sweet calm.\n\nI went forward to meet her, and in silence we shook hands. She motioned\nto the boulder, and we sat down. She was less shy than yesterday, and\nseemed in many subtle ways to be, though not less girlish, more of a\nwoman.\n\nWhen we sat down I laid my hand on hers and said\u2014and I felt that my\nvoice was hoarse:\u2014\n\n\u201cWell!\u201d\n\nShe looked at me tenderly, and said in a sweet, grave voice:\u2014\n\n\u201cMy father has a claim on me that I must not overlook. He is all alone;\nhe has lost my mother, and my brother is away, and is going into a\ndifferent sphere of life from us. He has lost his land that he prized\nand valued, and that has been ours for a long, long time; and now that\nhe is sad and lonely, and feels that he is growing old, how could I\nleave him? He that has always been so good and kind to me all my life!\u201d\nHere the sweet eyes filled with tears. I had not taken away my hand,\nand she had not removed hers; this negative of action gave me hope and\ncourage.\n\n\u201cNorah! answer me one thing. Is there any other man between your heart\nand me?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no! no!\u201d Her speech was impulsive; she stopped as suddenly as she\nbegan. A great weight seemed lifted from my heart; and yet there came a\nqualm of pity for my friend. Poor Dick! poor Dick!\n\nAgain we were silent for a minute. I was gathering courage for another\nquestion.\n\n\u201cNorah!\u201d\u2014I stopped; she looked at me.\n\n\u201cNorah! if your father had other objects in life, which would leave you\nfree, what would be your answer to me?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, do not ask me! Do not ask me!\u201d Her tone was imploring; but there\nare times when manhood must assert itself, even though the heart be\ntorn with pity for woman\u2019s weakness. I went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cI must, Norah! I must! I am in torture till you tell me. Be pitiful\nto me! Be merciful to me! Tell me, do you love me? You know I love\nyou, Norah. Oh God! how I love you! The world has but one being in it\nfor me; and you are that one! With every fibre of my being\u2014with all my\nheart and soul, I love you! Won\u2019t you tell me, then, if you love me?\u201d\n\nA flush as rosy as dawn came over her face, and timidly she asked me,\n\u201cMust I answer? Must I?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou must, Norah!\u201d\n\n\u201cThen, I do love you! God help us both! but I love you! I love you!\u201d\nand tearing away her hand from mine, she put both hands before her face\nand burst into a passionate flood of tears.\n\nThere could be but one ending to such a scene. In an instant she was in\nmy arms. Her will and mine went down before the sudden flood of passion\nthat burst upon us both. She hid her face upon my breast, but I raised\nit tenderly, and our lips met in one long, loving, passionate kiss.\n\nWe sat on the boulder, hand in hand, and whispering confessed to each\nother, in the triumph of our love, all those little secrets of the\ngrowth of our affection that lovers hold dear. That final separation,\nwhich had been spoken of but a while ago, was kept out of sight by\nmutual consent; the dead would claim its dead soon enough. Love lives\nin the present and in the sunshine finds its joy.\n\nWell, the men of old knew the human heart, when they fixed upon the\nbutterfly as the symbol of the soul; for the rainbow is but sunshine\nthrough a cloud, and love, like the butterfly, takes the colours of the\nrainbow on its aery wings!\n\nLong we sat in that beauteous spot. High above us towered the\neverlasting rocks; the green of nature\u2019s planting lay beneath our feet;\nand far off the reflection of the sunset lightened the dimness of the\nsoft twilight over the wrinkled sea.\n\nWe said little, as we sat hand in hand; but the silence was a poem,\nand the sound of the sea, and the beating of our hearts were hymns of\npraise to nature and to nature\u2019s God.\n\nWe spoke no more of the future; for now that we knew that we were each\nbeloved, the future had but little terror for us. We were content!\n\nWhen we had taken our last kiss, and parted beneath the shadow of the\nrock, I watched her depart through the gloaming to her own home; and\nthen I too took my way. At the foot of the Boreen I met Murdock, who\nlooked at me in a strange manner, and merely growled some reply to my\nsalutation.\n\nI felt that I could never meet Dick to-night. Indeed, I wished to see\nno human being, and so I sat for long on the crags above the sounding\nsea; and then wandered down to the distant beach. To and fro I went all\nthe night long, but ever in sight of the hill, and ever and anon coming\nnear to watch the cottage where Norah slept.\n\nIn the early morning, I took my way to Roundwood, and going to bed,\nslept until late in the day.\n\nWhen I woke, I began to think of how I could break my news to Dick. I\nfelt that the sooner it was done the better. At first I had a vague\nidea of writing to him from where I was, and explaining all to him; but\nthis, I concluded, would not do\u2014it seemed too cowardly a way to deal\nwith so true and loyal a friend\u2014I would go now and await his arrival at\nCarnaclif, and tell him all, at the earliest moment when I could find\nan opportunity.\n\nI drove to Carnaclif, and waited his coming impatiently, for I\nintended, if it were not too late, to afterwards drive over to\nShleenanaher, and see Norah\u2014or at least the house she was in.\n\nDick arrived a little earlier than usual, and I could see from the\nwindow that he was grave and troubled. When he got down from the car,\nhe asked if I were in, and being answered in the affirmative, ordered\ndinner to be put on the table as soon as possible, and went up to his\nroom.\n\nI did not come down until the waiter came to tell me that dinner was\nready. Dick had evidently waited also, and followed me down. When he\ncame into the room, he said heartily:\u2014\n\n\u201cHallo! Art, old fellow, welcome back, I thought you were lost,\u201d and\nshook hands with me warmly.\n\nNeither of us seemed to have much appetite, but we pretended to eat,\nand sent away platesfull of food, cut up into the smallest proportions.\nWhen the apology for dinner was over, Dick offered me a cigar, lit his\nown, and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cCome out for a stroll on the sand, Art; I want to have a chat with\nyou.\u201d I could feel that he was making a great effort to appear hearty,\nbut there was a hollowness about his voice, which was not usual. As we\nwent through the hall, Mrs. Keating handed me my letters, which had\njust arrived.\n\nWe walked out on the wide stretch of fine hard sand, which lies\nwestwards from Carnaclif when the tide is out, and were a considerable\ndistance from the town before a word was spoken. Dick turned to me, and\nsaid:\u2014\n\n\u201cArt! what does it all mean?\u201d\n\nI hesitated for a moment, for I hardly knew where to begin\u2014the\nquestion, so comprehensive and so sudden, took me aback. Dick went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cArt! two things I have always believed; and I won\u2019t give them up\nwithout a struggle. One is that there are very few things that, no\nmatter how strange or wrong they look, won\u2019t bear explanation of some\nkind; and the other is that an honourable man does not grow crooked in\na moment. Is there anything, Art, that you would like to tell me?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is, Dick! I have a lot to tell; but won\u2019t you tell me what you\nwish me to speak about?\u201d I was just going to tell him all, but it\nsuddenly occurred to me that it would be wise to know something of what\nwas amiss with him first.\n\n\u201cThen I shall ask you a few questions! Did you not tell me that the\ngirl you were in love with was not Norah Joyce?\u201d\n\n\u201cI did; but I was wrong. I did not know it at the time\u2014I only found it\nout, Dick, since I saw you last!\u201d\n\n\u201cSince you saw me last! Did you not then know that I loved Norah Joyce,\nand that I was only waiting a chance to ask her to marry me?\u201d\n\n\u201cI did!\u201d I had nothing to add here; it came back to me that I had\nspoken and acted all along without a thought of my friend.\n\n\u201cHave you not of late payed many visits to Shleenanaher; and have you\nnot kept such visits quite dark from me?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have, Dick.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you keep me ignorant on purpose?\u201d\n\n\u201cI did! But those visits were made entirely on your account.\u201d\u2014I\nstopped, for a look of wonder and disgust spread over my companion\u2019s\nface.\n\n\u201cOn my account! on my account! And was it, Arthur Severn, on my account\nthat you asked, as I presume you did, Norah Joyce to marry you\u2014I take\nit for granted that your conduct was honourable, to her at any rate\u2014the\nwoman whom I had told you I loved, and that I wished to marry, and\nthat you assured me that you did not love, your heart being fixed on\nanother woman? I hate to speak so, Art! but I have had black thoughts,\nand am not quite myself\u2014was this all on my account?\u201d It was a terrible\nquestion to answer, and I paused; Dick went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cWas it on my account that you, a rich man, purchased the home that\nshe loved; whilst I, a poor one, had to stand by and see her father\ndespoiled day by day, and, because of my poverty, had to go on with a\nhateful engagement, which placed me in a false position in her eyes?\u201d\n\nHere I saw daylight. I could answer this scathing question:\u2014\n\n\u201cIt was, Dick\u2014entirely on your account!\u201d He drew away from me, and\nstood still, facing me in the twilight as he spoke:\u2014\n\n\u201cI should like you to explain, Mr. Severn\u2014for your own sake\u2014a statement\nlike that.\u201d\n\nThen I told him, with simple earnestness, all the truth. How I had\nhoped to further his love, since my own seemed so hopeless\u2014how I had\nbought the land intending to make it over to him, so that his hands\nmight be strong to woo the woman he loved\u2014how this and nothing else\nhad taken me to Shleenanaher; and that whilst there I had learned that\nmy own unknown love and Norah were one and the same\u2014of my proposal to\nher; and here I told him humbly how in the tumult of my own passion\nI had forgotten his\u2014whereat he shrugged his shoulders\u2014and of my long\nanxiety till her answer was given. I told him that I had stayed away\nthe first night at Roundwood, lest I should be betrayed into any speech\nwhich would lack in loyalty to him as well as to her. And then I told\nhim of her decision not to leave her father\u2014touching but lightly on the\nconfession of her love, lest I should give him needless pain; I did not\ndare to avoid it lest I should mislead him to his further harm. When I\nhad finished he said softly:\u2014\n\n\u201cArt, I have been in much doubt!\u201d\n\nI thought a moment, and then remembered that I had in my pocket the\nletters which had been handed to me at the hotel, and that amongst them\nthere was one from Mr. Caicy at Galway. This letter I took out and\nhanded to Dick.\n\n\u201cThere is a letter unopened. Open it and it may tell you something. I\nknow my word will suffice you; but this is in justice to us both.\u201d\n\nDick took the letter and broke the seal. He read the letter from Caicy,\nand then holding up the deed so that the dying light of the west should\nfall on it, read it. The deed was not very long. When he finished it\nhe stood for a moment with his hands down by his sides; then he came\nover to me, and laying his hands, one of which grasped the deed, on my\nshoulders, said:\u2014\n\n\u201cThank God, Art, there need be no bitterness between me and thee\u2014all\nis as you say, but oh! old fellow!\u201d\u2014and here he laid his head on my\nshoulder and sobbed\u2014\u201cmy heart is broken! All the light has gone out of\nmy life!\u201d\n\nHis despair was only for a moment. Recovering himself as quickly as he\nhad been overcome, he said:\u2014\n\n\u201cNever mind, old fellow, only one of us must suffer; and, thank God! my\nsecret is with you alone\u2014no one else in the wide world even suspects.\nShe must never know! Now tell me all about it; don\u2019t fear that it will\nhurt me. It will be something to know that you are both happy. By the\nway, this had better be torn up; there is no need for it now!\u201d Having\ntorn the paper across, he put his arm over my shoulder as he used to do\nwhen we were boys; and so we passed into the gathering darkness.\n\nThank God for loyal and royal manhood! Thank God for the heart of a\nfriend that can suffer and remain true! And thanks, above all, that the\nlessons of tolerance and forgiveness, taught of old by the Son of God,\nare now and then remembered by the sons of men.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER XI.\n\n                      _UN MAUVAIS QUART D\u2019HEURE._\n\n\nWhen we were strolling back to the hotel Dick said to me:\u2014\n\n\u201cCheer up, old fellow! You needn\u2019t be the least bit downhearted. Go\nsoon and see Joyce. He will not stand in the girl\u2019s way, you may be\nsure. He is a good fellow, and loves Norah dearly\u2014who could help it!\u201d\nHe stopped for a moment here, and choked a great sob, but went on\nbravely:\u2014\n\n\u201cIt is only like her to be willing to sacrifice her own happiness; but\nshe must not be let do that. Settle the matter soon! Go to-morrow to\nsee Joyce. I shall go up to Knocknacar instead of working with Murdock;\nit will leave the coast clear for you.\u201d Then we went into the hotel;\nand I felt as if a great weight had been removed.\n\nWhen I was undressing I heard a knock. \u201cCome in,\u201d I called, and Dick\nentered. Dear old fellow! I could see that he had been wrestling\nwith himself, and had won. His eyes were red, but there was a noble\nmanliness about him which was beyond description.\n\n\u201cArt,\u201d said he, \u201cI wanted to tell you something, and I thought it\nought to be told now. I wouldn\u2019t like the night to close on any wrong\nimpression between you and me. I hope you feel that my suspicion about\nfair-play and the rest of it is all gone.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do! old fellow! quite.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, you are not to get thinking of me as in any way wronged in the\nmatter, either by accident or design. I have been going over the whole\nmatter to try and get the heart of the mystery; and I think it only\nfair to say that no wrong could be done to me. I never spoke a single\nword to Norah in my life. Nor did she to me. Indeed, I have seen her\nbut seldom, though the first time was enough to finish me. Thank God!\nwe have found out the true state of affairs before it was too late. It\nmight have been worse, old lad! it might have been worse! I don\u2019t think\nthere\u2019s any record\u2014even in the novels\u2014of a man\u2019s life being wrecked\nover a girl he didn\u2019t know. We don\u2019t get hit to death at sight, old\nboy! It\u2019s only skin deep this time, and though skin deep hurts the\nmost, it doesn\u2019t kill! I thought I would tell you what I had worked\nout, for I knew we were such old friends that it would worry you and\nmar your happiness to think I was wretched. I hope\u2014and I honestly\nexpect\u2014that by to-morrow I shall be all right, and able to enjoy the\nsight of both your happiness\u2014as, please God! I hope such is to be.\u201d\n\nWe wrung each other\u2019s hands; and I believe that from that moment we\nwere closer friends than ever. As he was going out Dick turned to me,\nand said:\u2014\n\n\u201cIt is odd about the legend, isn\u2019t it! The Snake is in the Hill still,\nif I am not mistaken. He told me all about your visits and the sale of\nthe land to you, in order to make mischief. But his time is coming; St.\nPatrick will lift that crozier of his before long!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut the Hill holds us all!\u201d said I; and as I spoke there was an\nominous feeling over me. \u201cWe\u2019re not through yet; but it will be all\nright now.\u201d\n\nThe last thing I saw was a smile on his face as he closed the door.\n\nThe next morning Dick started for Knocknacar. It had been arranged the\nnight before that he should go on Andy\u2019s car, as I preferred walking to\nShleenanaher. I had more than one reason for so doing, but that which\nI kept in the foreground of my own mind\u2014and which I almost persuaded\nmyself was the chief\u2014if not the only reason\u2014was that I did not wish to\nbe troubled with Andy\u2019s curiosity and impertinent badinage. My real and\nsecret reason, however, was that I wished to be alone so that I might\ncollect my thoughts, and acquire courage for what the French call _un\nmauvais quart d\u2019heure_.\n\nIn all classes of life, and under all conditions, this is an ordeal\neminently to be dreaded by young men. No amount of reason is of\nthe least avail to them\u2014there is some horrible, lurking, unknown\npossibility which may defeat all their hopes, and may, in addition,\nadd the flaming aggravation of making them appear ridiculous! I\nsummed up my own merits, and, not being a fool, found considerable\nground for hope. I was young, not bad looking\u2014Norah loved me; I had no\ngreat bogey of a past secret or misdeed to make me feel sufficiently\nguilty to fear a just punishment falling upon me; and, considering all\nthings, I was in a social position and of wealth beyond the dreams of a\npeasant\u2014howsoever ambitious for his daughter he might be.\n\nAnd yet I walked along those miles of road that day with my heart\nperpetually sinking into my boots, and harassed with a vague dread\nwhich made me feel at times an almost irresistible inclination to run\naway. I can only compare my feelings, when I drew in sight of the\nhill-top, with those which animate the mind of a young child when\ncoming in sight of the sea in order to be dipped for the first time.\n\nThere is, however, in man some wholesome fear of running away, which\nat times either takes the place of resolution, or else initiates\nthe mechanical action of guiding his feet in the right direction\u2014of\nprompting his speech and regulating his movement. Otherwise no young\nman, or very few at least, would ever face the ordeal of asking the\nconsent of the parents of his _inamorata_. Such a fear stood to me now;\nand with a seeming boldness I approached Joyce\u2019s house. When I came to\nthe gate I saw him in the field not far off, and went up to speak to\nhim.\n\nEven at that moment, when the dread of my soul was greatest, I could\nnot but recall an interview which I had had with Andy that morning, and\nwhich was not of my seeking, but of his.\n\nAfter breakfast I had been in my room, making myself as smart as I\ncould, for of course I hoped to see Norah\u2014when I heard a knock at\nthe door, timid but hurried. When I called to \u201ccome in,\u201d Andy\u2019s head\nappeared; and then his whole body was by some mysterious wriggle\nconveyed through the partial opening of the door. When within, he\nclosed it, and, putting a finger to his lip, said in a mysterious\nwhisper:\u2014\n\n\u201cMasther Art!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell Andy! what is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhisper me now! Shure I don\u2019t want to see yer \u2019an\u2019r so onasy in yer\nmind.\u201d\n\nI guessed what was coming, so interrupted him, for I was determined to\nget even with him.\n\n\u201cNow, Andy! if you have any nonsense about your \u2018Miss Norah,\u2019 I don\u2019t\nwant to hear it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhisht! surr; let me shpake. I mustn\u2019t kape Misther Dick waitin\u2019. Now\ntake me advice! an\u2019 take a luk out to Shleenanaher. Ye may see some wan\nthere what ye don\u2019t ixpect!\u201d\u2014this was said with a sly mysteriousness,\nimpossible to describe.\n\n\u201cNo! no! Andy,\u201d said I, looking as sad as I could, \u201cI can see no one\nthere that I don\u2019t expect.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey do say, surr, that the fairies does take quare shapes; and your\nfairy girrul may have gone to Shleenanaher. Fairies may want to take\nthe wather like mortials.\u201d\n\n\u201cTake the water, Andy! what do ye mean?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do I mane! why what the quality does call say-bathin\u2019. An\u2019 maybe,\nthe fairy girrul has gone too!\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! no, Andy,\u201d said I, in as melancholy a way as I could, \u201cmy fairy\ngirl is gone. I shall never see her again!\u201d\n\nAndy looked at me very keenly; and then a twinkle came in his eye and\nhe said, slapping his thigh:\u2014\n\n\u201cBegor! but I believe yer \u2019an\u2019r is cured! Ye used to be that melancholy\nthat bedad it\u2019s meself what was gettin\u2019 sarious about ye; an\u2019 now it\u2019s\nonly narvous ye are! Well! if the fairy is gone, why not see Miss\nNorah? Sure wan sight iv her \u2019d cure all the fairy spells what iver was\ncast. Go now, yer \u2019an\u2019r, an\u2019 see her this day!\u201d\n\nI said with decision, \u201cNo, Andy, I will not go to-day to see Miss\nNorah. I have something else to do!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, very well!\u201d said he with simulated despondency. \u201cIf yer \u2019an\u2019r\nwon\u2019t, of course ye won\u2019t! but ye\u2019re wrong. At any rate, if ye\u2019re in\nthe direction iv Shleenanaher, will ye go an\u2019 see th\u2019 ould man? Musha!\nbut I\u2019m thinkin\u2019 it\u2019s glad he\u2019d be to see yer \u2019an\u2019r.\u201d\n\nDespite all I could do, I felt blushing up to the roots of my hair.\nAndy looked at me quizzically; and said oracularly, and with sudden\nseriousness:\u2014\n\n\u201cBegor! if yer fairy girrul is turned into a fairy complately, an\u2019 has\nflew away from ye, maybe ould Joyce too \u2019d become a leprachaun! Hould\nhim tight whin ye catch him! Remimber, wid leprachauns, if ye wance let\nthim go ye may niver git thim agin. But if ye hould thim tight, they\nmust do whatsumiver ye wish! So they do say\u2014but maybe I\u2019m wrong\u2014I\u2019m\nitherfarin\u2019 wid a gintleman as was bit be a fairy, and knows more nor\nmortials does about thim! There\u2019s the masther callin\u2019. Good bye, surr,\nan\u2019 good luck!\u201d and with a grin at me over his shoulder, Andy hurried\naway. I muttered to myself:\u2014\n\n\u201cIf anyone is a fairy, my bold Andy, I think I can name him. You seem\nto know everything!\u201d\n\nThis scene came back to me with renewed freshness. I could not but\nfeel that Andy was giving me some advice. He evidently knew more than\nhe pretended; indeed, he must have known all along of the identity of\nmy unknown of Knocknacar with Norah. He now also evidently knew of my\nknowledge on the subject; and he either knew or guessed that I was off\nto see Joyce on the subject of his daughter.\n\nIn my present state of embarrassment, his advice was a distinct light.\nHe knew the people, and Joyce especially; he also saw some danger\nto my hopes, and showed me a way to gain my object. I knew already\nthat Joyce was a proud man, and I could quite conceive that he was an\nobstinate one; and I knew from general experience of life that there is\nno obstacle so difficult to surmount as the pride of an obstinate man.\nWith all the fervour of my heart I prayed that, on this occasion, his\npride might not in any way be touched, or arrayed against me.\n\nWhen I saw him I went straight towards him, and held out my hand. He\nseemed a little surprised, but took it. Like Bob Acres, I felt my\ncourage oozing out of the tips of my fingers, but with the remnant of\nit threw myself into the battle:\u2014\n\n\u201cMr. Joyce, I have come to speak to you on a very serious subject.\u201d\n\n\u201cA sarious subject! Is it concarnin\u2019 me?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo on! More throuble, I suppose?\u201d\n\n\u201cI hope not, most sincerely. Mr. Joyce, I want to have your permission\nto marry your daughter!\u201d If I had suddenly turned into a bird and flown\naway, I do not think I could have astonished him more. For a second or\ntwo he was speechless, and then said, in an unconscious sort of way:\u2014\n\n\u201cWant to marry me daughter!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Mr. Joyce! I love her very dearly! She is a pearl amongst women;\nand if you will give your permission, I shall be the happiest man on\nearth. I can quite satisfy you as to my means. I am well to do; indeed,\nas men go, I am a rich man.\u201d\n\n\u201cAye! sir, I don\u2019t doubt. I\u2019m contint that you are what you say. But\nyou never saw me daughter\u2014except that dark night when you took me home.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh yes, I have seen her several times, and spoken with her; but,\nindeed, I only wanted to see her once to love her!\u201d\n\n\u201cYe have seen her\u2014and she never tould me! Come wid me!\u201d He beckoned me\nto come with him, and strode at a rapid pace to his cottage, opened\nthe door, and motioned me to go in. I entered the room\u2014which was both\nkitchen and living room\u2014to which he pointed. He followed.\n\nAs I entered, Norah, who was sewing, saw me and stood up. A rosy blush\nran over her face; then she grew as white as snow as she saw the stern\nface of her father close behind me. I stepped forward, and took her\nhand; when I let it go, her arm fell by her side.\n\n\u201cDaughter!\u201d\u2014Joyce spoke very sternly, but not unkindly. \u201cDo you know\nthis gentleman?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, father!\u201d\n\n\u201cHe tells me that you and he have met several times. Is it thrue?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, father; but\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cYe never tould me! How was that?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was by accident we met.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlways be accident?\u201d Here I spoke:\u2014\n\n\u201cAlways by accident\u2014on her part.\u201d He interrupted me:\u2014\n\n\u201cYer pardon, young gentleman! I wish me daughter to answer me! Shpeak,\nNorah!\u201d\n\n\u201cAlways, father!\u2014except once, and then I came to give a message\u2014yes! it\nwas a message, although from myself.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat missage?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh father! don\u2019t make me speak! We are not alone! Let me tell you,\nalone! I am only a girl\u2014and it is hard to speak.\u201d\n\nHis voice had a tear in it, for all its sternness, as he answered:\u2014\n\n\u201cIt is on a subject that this gentleman has spoke to me about\u2014as mayhap\nhe has spoke to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh father!\u201d\u2014she took his hand, which he did not withdraw, and, bending\nover, kissed it and hugged it to her breast. \u201cOh father! what have I\ndone that you should seem to mistrust me? You have always trusted me;\ntrust me now, and don\u2019t make me speak till we are alone!\u201d\n\nI could not be silent any longer. My blood began to boil, that she I\nloved should be so distressed\u2014whatsoever the cause, and at the hands of\nwhomsoever, even her father.\n\n\u201cMr. Joyce, you must let me speak! You would speak yourself to save\npain to a woman you loved.\u201d He turned to tell me to be silent, but\nsuddenly stopped; I went on:\u2014\u201cNorah,\u201d he winced as I spoke her name,\n\u201cis entirely blameless. I met her quite by chance at the top of\nKnocknacar when I went to see the view. I did not know who she was\u2014I\nhad not the faintest suspicion; but from that moment I loved her. I\nwent next day, and waited all day in the chance of seeing her; I did\nsee her, but again came away in ignorance even of her name. I sought\nher again, day after day, day after day, but could get no word of\nher; for I did not know who she was, or where she came from. Then, by\nchance, and after many weary days, again I saw her in the Cliff Fields\nbelow, three days ago. I could no longer be silent, but told her that\nI loved her, and asked her to be my wife. She asked a while to think,\nand left me, promising to give me an answer on the next evening. I came\nagain; and I got my answer.\u201d Here Norah, who was sobbing, with her face\nturned away, looked round, and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cHush! hush! You must not let father know. All the harm will be done!\u201d\nHer father answered in a low voice:\u2014\n\n\u201cAll that could be done is done already, daughter. Ye never tould me!\u201d\n\n\u201cSir! Norah is worthy of all esteem. Her answer to me was that she\ncould not leave her father, who was all alone in the world!\u201d Norah\nturned away again, but her father\u2019s arm went round her shoulder. \u201cShe\ntold me I must think no more of her; but, sir, you and I, who are men,\nmust not let a woman, who is dear to us both make such a sacrifice.\u201d\nJoyce\u2019s face was somewhat bitter as he answered me:\u2014\n\n\u201cYe think pretty well of yerself, young sir, whin ye consider it a\nsacrifice for me daughter to shtay wid the father, who loves her, and\nwho she loves. There was never a shadda on her life till ye came!\u201d This\nwas hard to hear, but harder to answer, and I stammered as I replied:\u2014\n\n\u201cI hope I am man enough to do what is best for her, even if it were\nto break my heart. But she must marry some time; it is the lot of the\nyoung and beautiful!\u201d Joyce paused a while, and his look grew very\ntender as he made answer softly:\u2014\n\n\u201cAye! thrue! thrue! the young birds lave the nist in due sayson\u2014that\u2019s\nonly natural.\u201d This seemed sufficient concession for the present; but\nAndy\u2019s warning rose before me, and I spoke:\u2014\n\n\u201cMr. Joyce, God knows! I don\u2019t want to add one drop of bitterness to\neither of your lives! only tell me that I may have hope, and I am\ncontent to wait and to try to win your esteem and Norah\u2019s love.\u201d\n\nThe father drew his daughter closer to him, and with his other hand\nstroked her hair, and said, whilst his eyes filled with tears:\u2014\n\n\u201cYe didn\u2019t wait for me esteem to win her love!\u201d Norah threw herself\ninto his arms and hid her face on his breast. He went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cWe can\u2019t undo what is done. If Norah loves ye\u2014and it seems to me\nthat she does\u2014do I shpeak thrue, daughter?\u201d The girl raised her face\nbravely, and looked in her father\u2019s eyes:\u2014\n\n\u201cYes! father.\u201d A thrill of wild delight rushed through me. As she\ndropped her head again, I could see that her neck had\n\n    \u201cThe colour of the budding rose\u2019s crest.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell! well!\u201d Joyce went on, \u201cYe are both young yit. God knows what\nmay happen in a year! Lave the girl free a bit to choose. She has not\nmet many gentlemen in her time; and she may desave herself. Me darlin\u2019!\nwhativer is for your good shall be done, plase God!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd am I to have her in time?\u201d The instant I had spoken I felt that I\nhad made a mistake; the man\u2019s face grew hard as he turned to me:\u2014\n\n\u201cI think for me daughter, sir, not for you! As it is, her happiness\nseems to be mixed up with yours\u2014lucky for ye. I suppose ye must meet\nnow and thin; but ye must both promise me that ye\u2019ll not meet widout me\nlave, or, at laste, me knowin\u2019 it. We\u2019re not gentlefolk, sir, and we\ndon\u2019t undherstand their ways. If ye were of Norah\u2019s and me own kind, I\nmightn\u2019t have to say the same; but ye\u2019re not.\u201d\n\nThings were now so definite that I determined to make one more effort\nto fix a time when my happiness might be certain, so I asked:\u2014\n\n\u201cThen if all be well, and you agree\u2014as please God you shall when you\nknow me better\u2014when may I claim her?\u201d\n\nWhen he was face to face with a definite answer Joyce again grew stern.\nHe looked down at his daughter and then up at me, and said, stroking\nher hair:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhin the threasure of Knockcalltecrore is found, thin ye may claim her\nif ye will, an\u2019 I\u2019ll freely let her go!\u201d As he spoke, there came before\nmy mind the strong idea that we were all in the power of the Hill\u2014\nthat it held us; however, as lightly as I could I spoke:\u2014\n\n\u201cThen I would claim her now!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do ye mane?\u201d\u2014this was said half anxiously, half fiercely.\n\n\u201cThe treasure of Knockcalltecrore is here; you hold her in your arms!\u201d\nHe bent over her:\u2014\n\n\u201cAye! the threasure sure enough\u2014the threasure ye would rob me of!\u201d Then\nhe turned to me, and said sternly, but not unkindly:\u2014\n\n\u201cGo, now! I can\u2019t bear more at prisent; and even me daughter may wish\nto be for a while alone wid me!\u201d I bowed my head and turned to leave\nthe room; but as I was going out, he called me back:\u2014\n\n\u201cShtay! Afther all, the young is only young. Ye seem to have done but\nlittle harm\u2014if any.\u201d He held out his hand; I grasped it closely, and\nfrom that instant it seemed that our hearts warmed to each other.\nThen I felt bolder, and stepping to Norah took her hand\u2014she made no\nresistance\u2014and pressed it to my lips, and went out silently. I had\nhardly left the door when Joyce came after me.\n\n\u201cCome agin in an hour,\u201d he said, and went in and shut the door.\n\nThen I wandered to the rocks and climbed down the rugged path into the\nCliff Fields. I strode through the tall grass and the weeds, rank with\nthe continuous rain, and gained the table rock. I climbed it, and sat\nwhere I first had met my love, after I had lost her; and, bending,\nI kissed the ground where her feet had rested. And then I prayed as\nfervent a prayer as the heart of a lover can yield, for every blessing\non the future of my beloved; and made high resolves that whatsoever\nmight befall, I would so devote myself that, if a man\u2019s efforts could\naccomplish it, her feet should never fall on thorny places.\n\nI sat there in a tumult of happiness. The air was full of hope, and\nlove, and light; and I felt that in all the wild glory and fulness of\nnature the one unworthy object was myself.\n\nWhen the hour was nearly up I went back to the cottage; the door was\nopen, but I knocked on it with my hand. A tender voice called to me to\ncome in, and I entered.\n\nNorah was standing up in the centre of the room. Her face was radiant,\nalthough her sweet eyes were bright with recent tears; and I could see\nthat in the hour which I had passed on the rock, the hearts of the\nfather and the child had freely spoken. The old love between them had\ntaken a newer and fuller and more conscious life\u2014based, as God has\nwilled it with the hearts of men, on the parent\u2019s sacrifice of self for\nthe happiness of the child.\n\nWithout a word I took her in my arms. She came without bashfulness\nand without fear; only love and trust spoke in every look, and every\nmoment. The cup of our happiness was full to the brim; and it seemed as\nthough God saw, and, as of old with His completed plan of the world,\nwas satisfied that all was good.\n\nWe sat, hand in hand, and told again and again the simple truths that\nlovers tell; and we built bright mansions of future hope. There was no\nshadow on us, except the shadow that slowly wrapped the earth in the\nwake of the sinking sun. The long, level rays of sunset spread through\nthe diamond panes of the lattice, grew across the floor, and rose on\nthe opposite wall; but we did not heed them until we heard Joyce\u2019s\nvoice behind us:\u2014\n\n\u201cI have been thinkin\u2019 all the day, and I have come to believe that it\nis a happy day for us all, sir. I say, though she is my daughter, that\nthe man that won her heart should be a proud man, for it is a heart\nof gold. I must give her to ye. I was sorry at the first, but I do it\nfreely now. Ye must guard and kape, and hould her as the apple of your\neye. If ye should ever fail or falter, remimber that ye took a great\nthrust in takin\u2019 her from me that loved her much, and in whose heart\nshe had a place\u2014not merely for her own sake, but for the sake of the\ndead that loved her.\u201d He faltered a moment, but then coming over, put\nhis hand in mine, and while he held it there, Norah put her arm around\nhis neck, and laying her sweet head on his broad, manly breast, said\nsoftly:\u2014\n\n\u201cFather, you are very good, and I am very, very happy!\u201d Then she took\nmy hand and her father\u2019s together, and said to me:\u2014\n\n\u201cRemember, he is to be as your father, too; and that you owe him all\nthe love and honour that I do!\u201d\n\n\u201cAmen,\u201d I said, solemnly; and we three wrung each others\u2019 hands.\n\nBefore I went away, I said to Joyce:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou told me I might claim her when the treasure of the Hill was found.\nWell! give me a month, and perhaps, if I don\u2019t have the one you mean, I\nmay have another.\u201d I wanted to keep, for the present, the secret of my\npurchase of the old farm, so as to make a happy surprise when I should\nhave actual possession.\n\n\u201cWhat do ye mane?\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cI shall tell you when the month is up,\u201d I answered; \u201cor if the\ntreasure is found sooner\u2014but you must trust me till then.\u201d\n\nJoyce\u2019s face looked happy as he strolled out, evidently leaving me a\nchance of saying good-bye alone to Norah; she saw it too, and followed\nhim.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t go father!\u201d she said. At the door she turned her sweet face to\nme, and with a shy look at her father, kissed me, and blushed rosy red.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s right, me girl,\u201d said Joyce, \u201chonest love is without shame! Ye\nneed never fear to kiss your lover before me.\u201d\n\nAgain we stayed talking for a little while. I wanted to say good-bye\nagain; but this last time I had to give the kiss myself. As I looked\nback from the gate, I saw father and daughter standing close together;\nhe had his arm round her shoulder, and the dear head that I loved lay\nclose on his breast, as they both waved me farewell.\n\nI went back to Carnaclif, feeling as though I walked on air; and\nmy thoughts were in the heaven that lay behind my footsteps as I\nwent\u2014though before me on the path of life.\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER XII.\n\n                      BOG-FISHING AND SCHOOLING.\n\n\nWhen I got near home, I met Dick, who had strolled out to meet me.\nHe was looking much happier than when I had left him in the morning.\nI really believe that now that the shock of his own disappointment\nhad passed, he was all the happier that my affair had progressed\nsatisfactorily. I told him all that had passed, and he agreed with\nthe advice given by Joyce, that for a little while, nothing should be\nsaid about the matter. We walked together to the hotel, I hurrying the\npace somewhat, for it had begun to dawn upon me that I had eaten but\nlittle in the last twenty-four hours. It was prosaic, but true; I was\nexceedingly hungry. Joy seldom interferes with the appetite; it is\nsorrow or anxiety which puts it in deadly peril.\n\nWhen we got to the hotel, we found Andy waiting outside the door. He\nimmediately addressed me:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Och musha! but it\u2019s the sad man I am this day! Here\u2019s Masther Art giv\nover intirely to the fairies. An\u2019 its leprachaun catchin\u2019, he has been\nonto this blissed day. Luk at him! isn\u2019t it full iv sorra he is. Give\nup the fairies, Masther Art!\u2014Do thry an make him, Misther Dick!\u2014an\u2019\ntake to fallin\u2019 head over ears in love wid some nice young girrul.\nSure, Miss Norah herself, bad as she is, \u2019d be betther nor none at all,\nthough she doesn\u2019t come up to Masther Art\u2019s rulin\u2019!\u201d\n\nThis latter remark was made to Dick, who immediately asked him:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhat is that, Andy?\u201d\n\n\u201cBegor! yer \u2019an\u2019r, Masther Art has a quare kind iv a girrul in his eye\nintirely, wan he used to be lukin\u2019 for on the top iv Knocknacar\u2014the\nfairy girrul yer \u2019an\u2019r,\u201d he added to me in an explanatory manner.\n\n\u201cI suppose, yer \u2019an\u2019r,\u201d turning to me, \u201cye haven\u2019t saw her this day?\u201d\n\n\u201cI saw nobody to answer your description, Andy; and I fear I wouldn\u2019t\nknow a fairy girl if I saw one,\u201d said I, as I passed into the house\nfollowed by Dick, whilst Andy, laughing loudly, went round to the back\nof the house, where the bar was.\n\nThat was, for me at any rate, a very happy evening. Dick and I sat\nup late and smoked, and went over the ground that we had passed, and\nthe ground that we were, please God, to pass in time. I felt grateful\nto the dear old fellow, and spoke much of his undertakings both at\nKnocknacar and at Knokcalltecrore. He told me that he was watching\ncarefully the experiment at the former place as a guide to the latter.\nAfter some explanations, he said:\u2014\n\n\u201cThere is one thing there which rather disturbs me. Even with the\nunusual amount of rain which we have had lately, the flow or drain of\nwater from the bog is not constant; it does not follow the rains as I\nexpected. There seems to be some process of silting, or choking, or\ndamming up the walls of what I imagine to be the different sections or\nreservoirs of the bog. I cannot make it out, and it disturbs me; for\nif the same process goes on at Knockcalltecrore, there might be any\nkind of unforeseen disaster in case of the shifting of the bog. I am\nnot at all easy about the way Murdock is going on there. Ever since\nwe found the indication of iron in the bog itself, he has taken every\noccasion when I am not there to dig away at one of the clay banks that\njut into it. I have warned him that he is doing a very dangerous thing,\nbut he will not listen. To-morrow, when I go up, I shall speak to him\nseriously. He went into Galway with a cart the night before last, and\nwas to return by to-morrow morning. Perhaps he has some game on. I must\nsee what it is.\u201d\n\nBefore we parted for the night we had arranged to go together in the\nmorning to Knockcalltecrore, for of course I had made up my mind that\neach day should see me there.\n\nIn the morning, early, we drove over. We left Andy, as usual, in the\nboreen at the foot of the hill, and walked up together. I left Dick at\nMurdock\u2019s gate, and then hurried as fast as my legs could carry me to\nJoyce\u2019s.\n\nNorah must have had wonderful ears. She heard my footsteps in the\nlane, and when I arrived at the gate she was there to meet me. She\nsaid, \u201cGood morning,\u201d shyly, as we shook hands. For an instant she\nevidently feared that I was going to kiss her, there in the open where\nsomeone might see; but almost as quickly she realized that she was safe\nso far, and we went up to the cottage together. Then came my reward;\nfor, when the door was closed, she put her arms round my neck as I took\nher in my arms, and our lips met in a sweet, long kiss. Our happiness\nwas complete. Anyone who has met the girl he loved the day after\nhis engagement to her, can explain why or how\u2014if any explanation be\nrequired.\n\nJoyce was away in the fields. We sat hand in hand, and talked for a\ngood while; but I took no note of time.\n\nSuddenly Norah looked up. \u201cHush!\u201d she said. \u201cThere is a step in the\nboreen; it is your friend, Mr. Sutherland.\u201d We sat just a little\nfurther apart and let go hands. Then the gate clicked, and even I heard\nDick\u2019s steps as he quickly approached. He knocked at the door; we both\ncalled out \u201cCome in\u201d simultaneously, and then looked at each other and\nblushed. The door opened and Dick entered. He was very pale, but in a\ncouple of seconds his pallor passed away. He greeted Norah cordially,\nand she sweetly bade him welcome; then he turned to me:\u2014\n\n\u201cI am very sorry to disturb you, old fellow, but would you mind coming\ndown to Murdock\u2019s for a bit? There is some work which I wish you to\ngive me a hand with.\u201d\n\nI started up and took my hat, whispered good-bye to Norah, and went\nwith him. She did not come to the door; but from the gate I looked back\nand saw her sweet face peeping through the diamond pane of the lattice.\n\n\u201cWhat is it, Dick?\u201d I asked, as we went down the lane.\n\n\u201cA new start to-day. Murdock evidently thinks we have got on the track\nof something. He went into Galway for a big grapnel; and now we are\nmaking an effort to lift it\u2014whatever \u2018it\u2019 is\u2014out of the bog.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy Jove!\u201d said I, \u201cthings are getting close.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Dick. \u201cAnd I am inclined to think he is right. There is\nmost probably a considerable mass of iron in the bog. We have located\nthe spot, and are only waiting for you, so as to be strong enough to\nmake a cast.\u201d\n\nWhen we got to the edge of the bog we found Murdock standing beside a\ntemporary jetty, arranged out of a long plank, with one end pinned to\nthe ground and the centre supported on a large stone, placed on the\nvery edge of the solid ground, where a rock cropped up. Beside him was\na very large grappling-iron, some four feet wide, attached to a coil of\nstrong rope. When we came up, he saluted me in a half surly manner, and\nwe set to work, Dick saying, as we began:\u2014\n\n\u201cMr. Severn, Mr. Murdock has asked us to help in raising something\nfrom the bog. He prefers to trust us, whom he knows to be gentlemen,\nthan to let his secret be shared in with anyone else.\u201d\n\nDick got out on the end of the plank, holding the grapnel and a coil of\nthe rope in his hand, whilst the end of the coil was held by Murdock.\n\nI could see from the appearance of the bog that someone had been lately\nworking at it, for it was all broken about as though to make a hole in\nit, and a long pole that lay beside where I stood was covered with wet\nand slime.\n\nDick poised the grapnel carefully, and then threw it out. It sank into\nthe bog, slowly at first, but then more quickly; an amount of rope ran\nout which astonished me, for I knew that the bog must be at least so\ndeep.\n\nSuddenly the run of the rope ceased, and we knew that the grapnel had\ngone as far as it could. Murdock and I then held the rope, and Dick\ntook the pole and poked and beat a passage for it through the bog up to\nthe rock where we stood. Then he, too, joined us, and we all began to\npull.\n\nFor a few feet we pulled in the slack of the rope. Then there was a\nlittle more resistance for some three or four feet, and we knew that\nthe grapnel was dragging on the bottom. Suddenly there was a check, and\nMurdock gave a suppressed shout:\u2014\n\n\u201cWe have got it! I feel it! Pull away for your lives!\u201d\n\nWe kept a steady pull on the rope. At first there was simply a dead\nweight, and in my own mind I was convinced that we had caught a piece\nof projecting rock. Murdock would have got unlimited assistance and\ntorn out of the bog whatever it was that we had got hold of, even if\nhe had to tear up the rocks by the roots; but Dick kept his head, and\ndirected a long steady pull.\n\nThere was a sudden yielding, and then again resistance. We continued\nto pull, and then the rope began to come, but very slowly, and there\nwas a heavy weight attached to it. Even Dick was excited now. Murdock\nshut his teeth, and scowled like a demon; it would have gone hard with\nanyone who came then between him and his prize. As for myself, I was in\na tumult. In addition to the natural excitement of the time, there rose\nto my memory Joyce\u2019s words:\u2014\u201cWhen the treasure is found you may claim\nher if you will;\u201d\u2014and, although the need for such an occasion passed\naway with his more free consent, the effect that they had at the time\nproduced on me remained in my mind.\n\nHere, then, was the treasure at last; its hiding for a century in the\nbog had come to an end.\n\nWe pulled and pulled. Heavens! how we tugged at that rope. Foot after\nfoot it came up through our hands, wet and slimy, and almost impossible\nto hold. Now and again it slipped from each of us in turns a few\ninches, and a muttered \u201csteady! steady!\u201d was all the sound heard. It\ntook all three of us to hold the weight, and so no one could be spared\nto make an effort to further aid us by any mechanical appliance. The\nrope lay beside us in seemingly an endless coil. I began to wonder if\nit would ever end. Our breath began to come quickly, our hands were\ncramped. There came a new and more obstinate resistance. I could not\naccount for it. Dick cried out:\u2014\n\n\u201cIt is under the roots of the bog; we must now take it up straight. Can\nyou two hold on for a moment? and I shall get on the plank.\u201d We nodded,\nbreath was too precious for unnecessary speech.\n\nDick slacked out after we had got our feet planted for a steady\nresistance. He then took a handful of earth, and went out on the plank\na little beyond the centre and caught the rope. When he held it firmly\nwith his clay-covered hands, he said:\u2014\n\n\u201cCome now, Art. Murdock, you stay and pull.\u201d I ran to him, and, taking\nmy hands full of earth, caught the rope also.\n\nThe next few minutes saw a terrible struggle. Our faces were almost\nblack with the rush of blood in stooping and lifting so long and so\nhard, our hands and backs ached to torture, and we were almost in\ndespair, when we saw the bog move just under us. This gave us new\ncourage and new strength, and with redoubled effort we pulled at the\nrope.\n\nThen up through the bog came a large mass. We could not see what\nit was, for the slime and the bog covered it solidly; but with a\nfinal effort we lifted it. Each instant it grew less weighty as the\nresistance of the bog was overcome, and the foul slimy surface fell\nback into its place and became tranquil. When we lifted and pulled the\nmass on the rock bank, Murdock rushed forward in a frenzied manner, and\nshouted to us:\u2014\n\n\u201cKape back! Hands off! It\u2019s mine, I say, all mine! Don\u2019t dar even to\ntouch it, or I\u2019ll do ye a harrum! Here, clear off! this is my land!\nGo!\u201d and he turned on us with the energy of a madman and the look of a\nmurderer.\n\nI was so overcome with my physical exertions that I had not a word to\nsay, but simply in utter weariness threw myself upon the ground; but\nDick, with what voice he could command, said:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re a nice grateful fellow to men who have helped you! Keep your\nfind to yourself, man alive; we don\u2019t want to share. You must know that\nas well as I do, unless your luck has driven you mad. Handle the thing\nyourself, by all means. Faugh! how filthy it is!\u201d and he too sat down\nbeside me.\n\nIt certainly was most filthy. It was a shapeless irregular mass, but\nmade solid with rust and ooze and the bog surface through which it had\nbeen dragged. The slime ran from it in a stream; but its filth had\nno deterring power for Murdock, who threw himself down beside it and\nactually kissed the nauseous mass as he murmured:\u2014\n\n\u201cAt last! at last! me threasure! All me own!\u201d\n\nDick stood up with a look of disgust on his handsome face:\u2014\n\n\u201cCome away, Art; it\u2019s too terrible to see a man degraded to this pitch.\nLeave the wretch alone with his god!\u201d Murdock turned to us, and said\nwith savage glee:\u2014\n\n\u201cNo! shtay! Sthay an\u2019 see me threasure! It\u2019ll make ye happy to think of\nafther! An\u2019 ye can tell Phelim Joyce what I found in me own land\u2014the\nland what I tuk from him.\u201d We stayed.\n\nMurdock took his spade and began to remove the filth and rubbish from\nthe mass. And in a very few moments his discovery proclaimed itself.\n\nThere lay before us a rusty iron gun-carriage! This was what we had\ndragged with so much effort from the bottom of the bog; and beside it\nMurdock sat down with a scowl of black disappointment.\n\n\u201cCome away!\u201d said Dick. \u201cPoor devil, I pity him! It is hard to find\neven a god of that kind worthless!\u201d And so we turned and left Murdock\nsitting beside the gun-carriage and the slime, with a look of baffled\ngreed which I hope never to see on any face again.\n\nWe went to a brook at the foot of the hill, Andy being by this time\nin the sheebeen about half a mile off. There we cleansed ourselves as\nwell as we could from the hideous slime and filth of the bog, and then\nwalked to the top of the hill to let the breeze freshen us up a bit if\npossible. After we had been there for a while, Dick said:\u2014\n\n\u201cNow, Art, you had better run back to the cottage. Miss Joyce will be\nwondering what has become of you all this time, and may be frightened.\u201d\nIt was so strange to hear her\u2014Norah, my Norah\u2014called \u201cMiss Joyce,\u201d that\nI could not help smiling\u2014and blushing whilst I smiled. Dick noticed and\nguessed the cause. He laid his hand on my shoulder, and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou will hear it often, old lad. I am the only one of all your friends\nprivileged to hear of her by the name you knew her by at first. She\ngoes now into your class and amongst your own circle; and, by George!\nshe will grace it too\u2014it or any circle\u2014and they will naturally give to\nher folk the same measure of courtesy that they mete to each other. She\nis Miss Joyce\u2014until she shall be Mrs. Arthur Severn!\u201d\n\nWhat a delicious thrill the very thought sent through me!\n\nI went up to the cottage, and on entering found Norah still alone.\nShe knew that I was under promise not to tell anything of Murdock\u2019s\nproceedings, but noticing that I was not so tidy as before\u2014for my\ncleansing at the brook-side was a very imperfect one\u2014went quietly and\ngot a basin with hot water, soap, and a towel, and clothes brush, and\nsaid I must come and be made very tidy.\n\nThat toilet was to me a sweet experience, and is a sweet remembrance\nnow. It was so wifely in its purpose and its method, that I went\nthrough it in a languorous manner\u2014like one in a delicious dream. When,\nwith a blush, she brought me her own brush and comb and began to\nsmooth my hair, I was as happy as it is given to a man to be. There\nis a peculiar sensitiveness in their hair to some men, and to have\nit touched by hands that they love is a delicious sensation. When my\ntoilet was complete Norah took me by the hand and made me sit down\nbeside her. After a pause, she said to me with a gathering blush:\u2014\n\n\u201cI want to ask you something.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I want to ask you something,\u201d said I. \u201cNorah, dear! there is one\nthing I want much to ask you.\u201d\n\nShe seemed to suspect or guess what I was driving at, for she said:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou must let me ask mine first.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no!\u201d I replied. \u201cYou must answer me; and then, you know, you will\nhave the right to ask what you like.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I do not want any right.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen it will be all the more pleasure to me to give a favour\u2014if there\ncan be any such from me to you.\u201d\n\nMasculine persistence triumphed\u2014men are always more selfish than\nwomen\u2014and I asked my question:\u2014\n\n\u201cNorah, darling\u2014tell me when will you be mine\u2014my very own? When shall\nwe be married?\u201d\n\nThe love-light was sweet in her eyes as she answered me with a blush\nthat made perfect the smile on her lips:\u2014\n\n\u201cNay! You should have let me ask my question first.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy so, dearest?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause, dear, I am thinking of the future. You know, Arthur, that I\nlove you, and that whatever you wish, I would and shall gladly do; but\nyou must think for me too. I am only a peasant girl\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cPeasant!\u201d I laughed. \u201cNorah, you are the best lady I have ever seen!\nWhy, you are like a queen\u2014what a queen ought to be!\u201d\n\n\u201cI am proud and happy, Arthur, that you think so; but still I am only a\npeasant! Look at me\u2014at my dress. Yes! I know you like it, and I shall\nalways prize it because it found favour in your eyes!\u201d She smiled\nhappily, but went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cDear, I am speaking very truly. My life and surroundings are not\nyours. You are lifting me to a higher grade in life, Arthur, and I want\nto be worthy of it and of you. I do not want any of your family or your\nfriends to pity you and say, \u2018Poor fellow, he has made a sad mistake.\nLook at her manners\u2014she is not of us.\u2019 I could not bear to hear or to\nknow that such was said\u2014that anyone should have to pity the man I love,\nand to have that pity because of me. Arthur, it would break my heart!\u201d\n\nAs she spoke the tears welled up in the deep dark eyes and rolled\nunchecked down her cheeks. I caught her to my breast with the sudden\ninstinct of protection, and cried out:\u2014\n\n\u201cNorah! no one on earth could say such a thing of you\u2014you who would\nlift a man, not lower him. You could not be ungraceful if you tried;\nand as for my family and friends, if there is one who will not hold out\nboth hands to you and love you, he or she is no kin or friend of mine.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Arthur, they might be right! I have learned enough to know that\nthere is so much more to learn\u2014that the great world you live in is so\ndifferent from our quiet, narrow life here. Indeed, I do not mean to\nbe nervous as to the future, or to make any difficulties; but, dear, I\nshould like to be able to do all that is right and necessary as your\nwife. Remember, that when I leave here I shall not have one of my own\nkin or friends to tell me anything\u2014from whom I could ask advice. They\ndo not themselves even know what I might want\u2014not one of them all! Your\nworld and mine, dear, are so different\u2014as yet.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Norah, shall I not be always by your side to ask?\u201d\u2014I felt very\nsuperior and very strong as well as very loving as I spoke.\n\n\u201cYes, yes; but oh! Arthur\u2014can you not understand\u2014I love you so that I\nwould like to be, even in the eyes of others, all that you could wish.\nBut, dear, you must understand and help me here. I cannot reason with\nyou. Even now I feel my lack of knowledge, and it makes me fearful.\nEven now\u201d\u2014her voice died away in a sob, and she hid her beautiful eyes\nwith her hand.\n\n\u201cMy darling! my darling!\u201d I said to her passionately\u2014all the true lover\nin me awake\u2014\u201cTell me what it is that you wish, so that I may try to\njudge with all my heart.\u201d\n\n\u201cArthur! I want you to let me go to school\u2014to a good school for a\nwhile\u2014a year or two before we are married. Oh! I should work so hard! I\nshould try so earnestly to improve\u2014for I should feel that every hour of\nhonest work brought me higher and nearer to your level!\u201d\n\nMy heart was more touched than even my passion gave me words to\ntell\u2014and I tried, and tried hard, to tell her what I felt\u2014and in my\nsecret heart a remorseful thought went up: \u201cWhat have I done in my life\nto be worthy of so much love!\u201d\n\nThen, as we sat hand in hand, we discussed how it was to be done\u2014for\nthat it was to be done we were both agreed. I had told her that we\nshould so arrange it that she should go for awhile to Paris, and then\nto Dresden, and finish up with an English school. That she could learn\nlanguages, and that amongst them would be Italian; but that she would\nnot go to Italy until we went together\u2014on our honeymoon. She bent her\nhead and listened in silent happiness; and when I spoke of our journey\ntogether to Italy, and how we would revel in old-world beauty\u2014in the\nsoftness and light and colour of that magic land\u2014the delicate porcelain\nof her shell-like ear became tinged with pink, and I bent over and\nkissed it. And then she turned and threw herself on my breast, and hid\nher face.\n\nAs I looked I saw the pink spread downward and grow deeper and deeper,\ntill her neck and all became flushed with crimson. And then she put\nme aside, rose up, and with big brave eyes looked me full in the face\nthrough all her deep embarrassment, and said to me:\u2014\n\n\u201cArthur, of course I don\u2019t know much of the great world, but I suppose\nit is not usual for a man to pay for the schooling of a lady before she\nis his wife\u2014whatever might be arranged between them afterwards. You\nknow that my dear father has no money for such a purpose as we have\nspoken of, and so if you think it is wiser, and would be less hardly\nspoken of in your family, I would marry you before I went\u2014if\u2014if you\nwished it. But we would wait till after I came from school to\u2014to\u2014to go\nto Italy,\u201d and whilst the flush deepened almost to a painful degree,\nshe put her hands before her face and turned away.\n\nSuch a noble sacrifice of her own feelings and her own wishes\u2014and\nalthough I felt it in my heart of hearts I am sure none but a woman\ncould fully understand it\u2014put me upon my mettle, and it was with truth\nI spoke:\u2014\n\n\u201cNorah, if anything could have added to my love and esteem for you,\nyour attitude to me in this matter has done it. My darling, I shall try\nhard all my life to be worthy of you, and that you may never, through\nany act of mine, decline for a moment from the standard you have fixed.\nGod knows I could have no greater pride or joy than that this very\nmoment I should call you my wife. My dear! my dear! I shall count the\nvery hours until that happy time shall come. But all shall be as you\nwish. You will go to the schools we spoke of, and your father shall pay\nfor them. He will not refuse, I know, and what is needed he shall have.\nIf there be any way that he would prefer\u2014that suits your wishes\u2014it\nshall be done. More than this! if he thinks it right, we can be married\nbefore you go, and you can keep your own name until my time comes to\nclaim you.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! no! Arthur. When once I shall bear your name I shall be too proud\nof it to be willing to have any other. But I want, when I do bear it,\nto bear it worthily\u2014I want to come to you as I think your wife should\ncome.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear, dear Norah\u2014my wife to be\u2014all shall be as you wish.\u201d\n\nHere we heard the footsteps of Joyce approaching.\n\n\u201cI had better tell him,\u201d she said.\n\nWhen he came in she had his dinner ready. He greeted me warmly.\n\n\u201cWon\u2019t ye stay?\u201d he said. \u201cDon\u2019t go unless ye wish to!\u201d\n\n\u201cI think, sir, Norah wants to have a chat with you when you have had\nyour dinner.\u201d\n\nNorah smiled a kiss at me as I went out. At the door I turned and said\nto her:\u2014\n\n\u201cI shall be in the Cliff Field in case I am wanted.\u201d\n\nI went there straightway, and sat on the table rock in the centre of\nthe fields, and thought and thought. In all my thought there was no\ncloud. Each day\u2014each hour seemed to reveal new beauties in the girl I\nloved, and I felt as if all the world were full of sunshine, and all\nthe future of hope; and I built new resolves to be worthy of the good\nfortune which had come upon me.\n\nIt was not long before Norah came to me, and said that she had told her\nfather, and that he wished to speak with me. She said that he quite\nagreed about the school, and that there would be no difficulty made by\nhim on account of any false pride about my helping in the task. We had\nbut one sweet minute together on the rock, and one kiss; and then, hand\nin hand, we hurried back to the cottage, and found Joyce waiting for\nus, smoking his pipe.\n\nNorah took me inside, and, after kissing her father, came shyly and\nkissed me also, and went out. Joyce began:\u2014\n\n\u201cMe daughter has been tellin\u2019 me about the plan of her goin\u2019 to school,\nan\u2019 her an\u2019 me\u2019s agreed that it\u2019s the right thing to do. Of coorse,\nwe\u2019re not of your class, an\u2019 if ye wish for her it is only right an\u2019\nfair that she should be brought up to the level of the people that\nshe\u2019s goin\u2019 into. It\u2019s not in me own power to do all this for her, an\u2019\nalthough I didn\u2019t give her the schoolin\u2019 that the quality has, I\u2019ve\ndone already more nor min like me mostly does. Norah knows more nor\nany girl about here\u2014an\u2019 as ye\u2019re to have the benefit of yer wife\u2019s\nschoolin\u2019, I don\u2019t see no rayson why ye shouldn\u2019t help in it. Mind\nye this\u2014if I could see me way to do it meself, I\u2019d work me arms off\nbefore I\u2019d let you or any one else come between her an\u2019 me in such\na thing. But it\u2019d be only a poor kind of pride that\u2019d hurt the poor\nchild\u2019s feelins, an\u2019 mar her future\u2014an\u2019 so it\u2019ll be as ye both wish. Ye\nmust find out the schools an\u2019 write me about them when ye go back to\nLondon.\u201d I jumped up and shook his hand.\n\n\u201cMr. Joyce, I am more delighted than I can tell you; and I promise, on\nmy honour, that you shall never in your life regret what you have done.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sure of that\u2014Mr.\u2014Mr.\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cCall me Arthur!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell! I must do it some day\u2014Arthur\u2014an\u2019 as to the matther that Norah\ntold me ye shpoke of\u2014that, if I\u2019d wish it, ye\u2019d be married first. Well!\nme own mind an\u2019 Norah\u2019s is the same\u2014I\u2019d rather that she come to you as\na lady at wance\u2014though God knows! it\u2019s a lady she is in all ways I iver\nsee one in me life\u2014barrin\u2019 the clothes!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s true, Mr. Joyce! there is no better lady in all the land.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s all settled. Ye\u2019ll let me know in good time about the\nschools, won\u2019t ye? an\u2019 now I must get back to me work,\u201d and he passed\nout of the house, and went up the hillside.\n\nThen Norah came back, and with joy I told her that all had been\nsettled; and somehow, we seemed to have taken another step up the\nascent that leads from earth to heaven\u2014and that all feet may tread,\nwhich are winged with hope.\n\nPresently Norah sent me away for a while, saying that she had some work\nto do, as she expected both Dick and myself to come back to tea with\nthem; and I went off to look for Dick.\n\nI found him with Murdock. The latter had got over his disappointment,\nand had evidently made up his mind to trust to Dick\u2019s superior\nknowledge and intelligence. He was feverishly anxious to continue his\nsearch, and when I came up we held a long discussion as to the next\nmeasure to be taken. The afternoon faded away in this manner before\nMurdock summed up the matter thus:\u2014\n\n\u201cThe chist was carried on the gun-carriage, and where wan is th\u2019 other\nis not far off. The min couldn\u2019t have carried the chist far, from what\nould Moynahan sez. His father saw the min carryin\u2019 the chist only a wee\nbit.\u201d Dick said:\u2014\n\n\u201cThere is one thing, Murdock, that I must warn you about. You have been\ndigging in the clay bank by the edge of the bog. I told you before\nhow dangerous this is; now, more than ever, I see the danger of it.\nIt was only to-day that we got an idea of the depth of the bog, and\nit rather frightens me to think that with all this rain falling you\nshould be tampering with what is more important to you than even the\nfoundations of your house. The bog has risen far too much already,\nand you have only to dig perhaps one spadeful too much in the right\nplace and you\u2019ll have a torrent that will sweep away all you have. I\nhave told you that I don\u2019t like the locality of your house down in the\nhollow. If the bog ever moves again, God help you! You seem also to\nhave been tampering with the stream that runs into the Cliff Fields.\nIt is all very well for you to try to injure poor Joyce more than you\nhave done\u2014and that\u2019s quite enough, God knows!\u2014but here you are actually\nimperilling your own safety. That stream is the safety valve of the\nbog, and if you continue to dam up that cleft in the rock you will\nhave a terrible disaster. Mind now! I warn you seriously against what\nyou are doing. And besides, you do not even know for certain that the\ntreasure is here. Why, it may be anywhere on the mountain, from the\nbrook below the boreen to the Cliff Fields; is the off chance worth the\nrisk you run?\u201d Murdock started when he mentioned the Cliff Fields, and\nthen said suddenly:\u2014\n\n\u201cIf ye\u2019re afraid ye can go. I\u2019m not.\u201d\n\n\u201cMan alive!\u201d said Dick, \u201cwhy not be afraid if you see cause for fear?\nI don\u2019t suppose I\u2019m a coward any more than you are, but I can see a\ndanger, and a very distinct one, from what you are doing. Your house\nis directly in the track in which the bog has shifted at any time this\nhundred years; and if there should be another movement, I would not\nlike to be in the house when the time comes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right!\u201d he returned doggedly, \u201cI\u2019ll take me chance; and I\u2019ll find\nthe threasure, too, before many days is over!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell; but be reasonable also, or you may find your death!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, if I do that\u2019s me own luk out. Ye may find yer death first!\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course I may, but I see it my duty to warn you. The weather these\nlast few weeks back has been unusually wet. The bog is rising as it is.\nAs a matter of fact, it is nearly a foot higher now than it was when I\ncame here first; and yet you are doing what must help to rise it higher\nstill, and are weakening its walls at the same time.\u201d He scowled at me\nas he sullenly answered:\u2014\n\n\u201cWell, all I say is I\u2019ll do as I like wid me own. I wouldn\u2019t give up me\nchance iv findin\u2019 the threasure now\u2014no, not for God himself!\u201d\n\n\u201cHush! man; hush!\u201d said Dick sternly, as we turned away. \u201cDo not tempt\nHim, but be warned in time!\u201d\n\n\u201cLet Him look out for Himself, an\u2019 I\u2019ll look out for meself,\u201d he\nanswered with a sneer. \u201cI\u2019ll find the threasure\u2014an\u2019 if need be in spite\niv God an\u2019 iv the Divil too!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER XIII.\n\n                           MURDOCK\u2019S WOOING.\n\n\nI think it was a real pleasure to Dick to get Norah\u2019s message that he\nwas expected to tea that evening. Like the rest of his sex, he was not\nquite free from vanity; for when I told him, his first act was to look\ndown at himself ruefully, and his first words were:\u2014\n\n\u201cBut I say, old lad! look at the mess I\u2019m in; and these clothes are not\nmuch, anyhow.\u201d\n\n\u201cNever mind, Dick, you are as good as I am.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, well!\u201d he laughed, \u201cif you\u2019ll do, I suppose I needn\u2019t mind. We\u2019re\nboth pretty untidy. No, begad,\u201d he added, looking me all over, \u201cyou\u2019re\nnot out of the perpendicular with regard to cleanliness, anyhow. I say,\nArt! who\u2019s been tidying you up? Oh! I see! Forgive me, old lad; and\nquite natural, too! Miss Joyce should see you blush, Art! Why, you are\nas rosy as a girl!\u201d\n\n\u201cCall her \u2018Norah,\u2019 Dick! it is more natural, and I am sure she will\nlike it better. She is to look on you as a brother, you know!\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right, Art,\u201d he answered heartily, \u201cbut you must manage it for\nme, for I think I should be alarmed to do so unless I got a lead; but\nit will come easy enough after the first go off. Remember, we both\nalways thought of her as \u2018Norah!\u2019\u201d\n\nWe went down towards the brook and met with Andy, who had the car all\nready for us.\n\n\u201cBegor yer \u2019an\u2019rs,\u201d said he, \u201cI thought yez was lost intirely, or that\nthe fairies had carried yez off; both iv yez this time.\u201d\u2014This with\na sly look at me, followed by a portentous wink to Dick. \u201cAn\u2019 I\u2019m\nthinkin\u2019 it\u2019s about time fur somethin\u2019 to ate. Begor! but me stummick\nis cryin\u2019 out that me throat is cut!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re quite right, Andy, as to the fact,\u201d said Dick, \u201cbut you are a\nlittle antecedent.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 now what\u2019s that, surr? Begor! I niver was called that name afore.\nShure, an\u2019 I always thry to be dacent\u2014divvle a man but can tell ye\nthat! Antidacent indeed! Well now! what nixt?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt means, Andy, that we are going to be carried off by the fairies,\nand to have some supper with them too; and that you are to take this\nhalf-crown, and go over to Mother Kelligan\u2019s, and get her to try to\ndissipate that unnatural suspicion of capital offence wreaked on your\nthoracic region. Here, catch! and see how soon you can be off!\u201d\n\n\u201cHurroo! Begor, yer \u2019an\u2019r, it\u2019s the larned gintleman y\u2019 are! Musha! but\nye ought to be a councillor intirely! Gee-up! ye ould corncrake!\u201d and\nAndy was off at full speed.\n\nWhen we had got rid of him, Dick and I went down to the brook, and\nmade ourselves look as tidy as we could. At least Dick did; for, as to\nmyself, I purposely disarranged my hair\u2014unknown to Dick\u2014in the hope\nthat Norah would take me in hand again, and that I might once more\nexperience the delicious sensation of a toilet aided by her sweet\nfingers.\n\nYoung men\u2019s ideas, however, are very crude; no one who knew either the\nSex or the World would have fallen into such an absurd hope. When I\ncame in with Dick, Norah\u2014in spite of some marked hints, privately and\nsecretly given to her\u2014did not make either the slightest remark on my\nappearance, or the faintest suggestion as to improving it.\n\nShe had not been idle in the afternoon. The room, which was always\ntidy, was as prettily arranged as the materials would allow. There were\nsome flowers, and flag-leaves, and grasses tastefully placed about;\nand on the table, in a tumbler, was a bunch of scarlet poppies. The\ntablecloth, although of coarse material, was as white as snow, and the\nplates and cups, of common white and blue, were all that was required.\n\nWhen Joyce came in from his bedroom, where he had been tidying himself,\nhe looked so manly and handsome in his dark frieze coat with horn\nbuttons, his wide unstarched shirt-collar, striped waistcoat, and cord\nbreeches, with grey stockings, that I felt quite proud of him. There\nwas a natural grace and dignity about him which suited him so well,\nthat I had no wish to see him other than a peasant. He became the\nstation, and there was no pretence. He made a rough kind of apology to\nus both:\u2014\n\n\u201cI fear ye\u2019ll find things a bit rough, compared with what you\u2019re\naccustomed to, but I know ye\u2019ll not mind. We have hardly got settled\ndown here yit; and me sisther, who always lives with us, is away with\nme other sisther that is sick, so Norah has to fare by herself; but\ngentlemen both\u2014you, Mr. Sutherland; and you, Arthur\u2014you\u2019re welcome!\n\nWe sat down to table, and Norah insisted on doing all the attendance\nherself. I wanted to help her, and, when she was taking up a plate of\ncakes from the hearth, stooped beside her and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cMay not I help, Norah? Do let me!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo\u2014no, dear,\u201d she whispered. \u201cDon\u2019t ask me now\u2014I\u2019m a little strange\nyet\u2014another time. You\u2019ll be very good, won\u2019t you, and help me not to\nfeel awkward?\u201d\n\nNeedless to say I sat at table for the rest of the meal, and feasted my\neyes on my darling, whilst in common with the others I enjoyed the good\nthings placed before us. But when she saw that I looked too long and\ntoo lovingly, she gave me such an imploring glance from her eloquent\neyes, that for the remainder of the time I restrained both the ardour\nof my glance and its quantity within modest bounds.\n\nOh! but she was fair and sweet to look upon! Her dark hair was plainly\ncombed back, and coiled modestly round her lovely head. She had on her\nred petticoat and chintz body, that she knew I admired so much; and on\nher breast she wore a great scarlet poppy, whose splendid colour suited\nwell her dark and noble beauty. At the earliest opportunity, when tea\nwas over, I whispered to her:\u2014\n\n\u201cMy darling, how well the poppy suits you. How beautiful you are. You\nare like the Goddess of Sleep!\u201d She put her finger to her lips with a\nhappy smile, as though to forbid me to pay compliments\u2014before others. I\nsuppose the woman has never yet been born\u2014and never shall be\u2014who would\nnot like to hear her praises from the man she loves.\n\nI had eaten potato-cakes before, but never such as Norah had made for\nus; possibly they seemed so good to me because I knew that her hands\nhad made them. The honey, too, was the nicest I had tasted\u2014for it was\nmade by Norah\u2019s bees. The butter was perfect\u2014for it was the work of her\nhands!\n\nI do not think that a happier party ever assembled round a tea-table.\nJoyce was now quite reconciled to the loss of his daughter, and was\nbeaming all over; and Dick\u2019s loyal nature had its own reward, for he\ntoo was happy in the happiness of those he loved\u2014or else I was, and am,\nthe most obtuse fool, and he the most consummate actor, that has been.\nAs for Norah and myself, I know we were happy\u2014as happy as it is given\nto mortals to be.\n\nWhen tea was over, and Norah fetched her father\u2019s pipe and lighted it\nfor him, she said to me with a sweet blush, as she called me by my name\nfor the first time before a stranger:\u2014\n\n\u201cI suppose, Arthur, you and Mr. Sutherland would like your own cigars\nbest; but if you care for a pipe there are some new ones here,\u201d and she\npointed them out. We lit our cigars, and sat round the fire; for in\nthis damp weather the nights were getting a little chilly. Joyce sat\non one side of the fire and Dick on the other. I sat next to Dick, and\nNorah took her place between her father and me, sitting on a little\nstool beside her father and leaning, her head against his knees, whilst\nshe took the hand that was fondly laid over her shoulder and held it in\nher own. Presently, as the grey autumn twilight died away, and as the\nlight from the turf fire rose and fell, throwing protecting shadows,\nher other hand stole towards my own\u2014which was waiting to receive it;\nand we sat silent for a spell, Norah and I in an ecstasy of quiet\nhappiness.\n\nBy-and-by we heard a click at the latch of the gate, and firm, heavy\nfootsteps coming up the path. Norah jumped up, and peeped out of the\nwindow.\n\n\u201cWho is it, daughter?\u201d said Joyce.\n\n\u201cOh father! it is Murdock! What can he want?\u201d\n\nThere was a knock at the door. Joyce rose up, motioning to us to sit\nstill, laid aside his pipe, and went to the door and opened it. Every\nword that was spoken was perfectly plain to us all.\n\n\u201cGood evenin\u2019, Phelim Joyce!\u201d\n\n\u201cGood evenin\u2019! You want me?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do.\u201d Murdock\u2019s voice was fixed and firm, as of one who has made up\nhis mind.\n\n\u201cWhat is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cMay I come in? I want to shpake to ye particular.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, Murtagh Murdock! Whin a man comes undher me roof by me own\nconsint, I\u2019m not free wid him to spake me mind the same as whin he\u2019s\noutside. Ye haven\u2019t thrated me well, Murdock. Ye\u2019ve been hard wid me;\nand there\u2019s much that I can\u2019t forgive!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell! if I did, ye gev me what no other man has ever gave me yit\nwidout repintin\u2019 it sore. Ye sthruck me a blow before all the people,\nan\u2019 I didn\u2019t strike ye back.\u201d\n\n\u201cI did, Murtagh; an\u2019 I\u2019m sorry for it. That blow has been hangin\u2019 on me\nconscience iver since. I would take it back if I could; God knows that\nis thrue. Much as ye wronged me, I don\u2019t want such a thing as that to\nremimber when me eyes is closin\u2019. Murtagh Murdock, I take it back, an\u2019\ngladly. Will ye let me?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will\u2014on wan condition.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s what I\u2019ve kem here to shpake about; but I\u2019d like to go in.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! ye can\u2019t do that\u2014not yit, at any rate, till I know what ye want.\nYe must remimber, Murtagh, that I\u2019ve but small rayson to thrust ye!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, Phelim, I\u2019ll tell ye; tho\u2019 it\u2019s mortial hard to name it\nshtandin\u2019 widout the door like a thramp! I\u2019m a warrum man; I\u2019ve a power\niv money put by, an\u2019 it brings me in much.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know! I know!\u201d said the other bitterly. \u201cGod help me! but I know too\nwell how it was gother up.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell! niver mind that now; we all know that. Anyhow, it _is_ gother\nup. An\u2019 them as finds most fault wid the manes, mayhap \u2019d be the first\nto get hould iv it av they could. Well, anyhow, I\u2019m warrum enough to\nask any girrul in these parts to share it wid me. There\u2019s many min and\nweemin between this and Galway, that\u2019d like to talk over the fortin iv\ntheir daughter wid Murtagh Murdock\u2014for all he\u2019s a gombeen man.\u201d\n\nAs he spoke, the clasp of Norah\u2019s hand and mine grew closer. I could\nfeel in her clasp both a clinging, as for protection, and a restraining\npower on myself. Murdock went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cBut there\u2019s none of thim girls what I\u2019ve set me harrt on\u2014except wan!\u201d\nHe paused. Joyce said quietly:\u2014\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 who, now, might that be?\u201d\n\n\u201cYer own daughther, Norah Joyce!\u201d Norah\u2019s hand restrained me as I was\ninstinctively rising.\n\n\u201cGo on!\u201d said Joyce, and I could notice that there was a suppressed\npassion in his voice:\u2014\n\n\u201cWell, I\u2019ve set me harrt on her; and I\u2019m willin\u2019 to settle a fortin on\nher, on wan condition.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what, now, might that be?\u201d\u2014the tone was of veiled sarcasm.\n\n\u201cShe\u2019ll have all the money that I settle on her to dale wid as she\nlikes\u2014that is, the intherest iv it\u2014as long as she lives; an\u2019 I\u2019m to\nhave the Cliff Fields that is hers, as me own to do what I like wid,\nan\u2019 that them an\u2019 all in them belongs to me.\u201d Joyce paused a moment\nbefore answering:\u2014\n\n\u201cIs that all ye have to say?\u201d Murdock seemed nonplussed, but after a\nslight pause he answered:\u2014\n\n\u201cYis!\u201d\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 ye want me answer?\u201d\n\n\u201cIv coorse!\u201d\n\n\u201cThin, Murtagh Murdock, I\u2019d like to ask ye for why me daughter would\nmarry you or the like of you? Is it because that yer beauty \u2019d take a\nyoung girl\u2019s fancy\u2014you that\u2019s known as the likest thing to a divil in\nthese parts! Or is it because of yer kind nature? You that tried to\nruin her own father, and that drove both her and him out of the home\nshe was born in, and where her poor mother died! Is it because yer\ncharacther is respicted in the counthry wheriver yer name is known?\u2014\u2014\u201d\nHere Murdock interrupted him:\u2014\n\n\u201cI tould ye it\u2019s a warrum man I am\u201d\u2014he spoke decisively, as if his\nwords were final\u2014\u201can\u2019 I can, an\u2019 will, settle a fortin on her.\u201d Joyce\nanswered slowly and with infinite scorn:\u2014\n\n\u201cThank ye, Mr. Murtagh Murdock, but me daughter is not for sale!\u201d\n\nThere was a long pause. Then Murdock spoke again, and both suppressed\nhate and anger were in his voice:\u2014\n\n\u201cYe had betther have a care wid me. I\u2019ve crushed ye wance, an\u2019 I\u2019ll\ncrush ye agin! Ye can shpake scornful yerself, but mayhap the girrul\nwould give a different answer.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen, ye had betther hear her answer from herself. Norah! Come here,\ndaughter! Come here!\u201d\n\nNorah rose, making an imperative sign to me to keep my seat, and with\nthe bearing of an empress passed across to the door and stood beside\nher father. She took no notice whatever of her wooer.\n\n\u201cWhat is it, father?\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, Murdock, spake away! Say what ye have to say; an\u2019 take yer answer\nfrom her own lips.\u201d Murdock spoke with manifest embarrassment:\u2014\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve been tellin\u2019 yer father that I\u2019d like ye for me wife!\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve heard all you said!\u201d\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 yer answer?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy father has answered for me!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I want me answer from yer own lips. My! but it\u2019s the handsome\ngirrul ye are this night!\u201d\n\n\u201cMy answer is \u2018No!\u2019\u201d and she turned to come back.\n\n\u201cShtay!\u201d Murdock\u2019s voice was nasty, so nasty that instinctively I\nstood up. No person should speak like that to the woman I loved. Norah\nstopped. \u201cI suppose ye won\u2019t luk at me because ye have a young shpark\non yer hands. I\u2019m no fool! an\u2019 I know why ye\u2019ve been down in the\nFields. I seen yez both more nor wance; an\u2019 I\u2019m makin\u2019 me offer knowin\u2019\nwhat I know. I don\u2019t want to be too hard on ye, an\u2019 I\u2019ll say nothin\u2019 if\nye don\u2019t dhrive me to. But remimber ye\u2019re in me power; an\u2019 ye\u2019ve got to\nplase me in wan way or another. I knew what I was doin\u2019 whin I watched\nye wid yer young shpark! Ye didn\u2019t want yer father to see him nigh the\nhouse! Ye\u2019d betther be careful, the both of ye. If ye don\u2019t intind to\nmarry me, well, ye won\u2019t; but mind how ye thrate me or shpake to me,\nhere or where there\u2019s others by; or be th\u2019 Almighty! I\u2019ll send the ugly\nwhisper round the counthry about ye\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\nFlesh and blood could not stand this. In an instant I was out in the\nporch, and ready to fly at his throat; but Norah put her arm between us.\n\n\u201cMr. Severn!\u201d she said in a voice which there was no gainsaying, \u201cmy\nfather is here. It is for him to protect me here, if any protection\nis required from a thing like that!\u201d The scorn of her voice made even\nMurdock wince, and seemed to cool both Joyce and myself, and also Dick,\nwho now stood beside us.\n\nMurdock looked from one to another of us for a moment in amazement, and\nthen with a savage scowl, as though he were looking who and where to\nstrike with venom, he fixed on Norah\u2014God forgive him!\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 so ye have him at home already, have ye! An\u2019 yer father prisent\ntoo, an\u2019 a witness. It\u2019s the sharp girrul ye are, Norah Joyce, but I\nsuppose this wan is not the first!\u201d I restrained myself simply because\nNorah\u2019s hand was laid on my mouth; Murdock went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 so ye thought I wanted ye for yerself! Oh no! It\u2019s no bankrup\u2019s\ndaughther for me; but I may as well tell ye why I wanted ye. It was\nbecause I\u2019ve had in me hands, wan time or another, ivery inch iv this\nmountain, bit be bit, all except the Cliff Fields; and thim I wanted\nfor purposes iv me own\u2014thim as knows why, has swore not to tell\u201d\u2014this\nwith a scowl at Dick and me\u2014\u201cBut I\u2019ll have thim yit; an\u2019 have thim too\nwidout thinkin\u2019 that me wife likes sthrollin\u2019 there wid sthrange min!\u201d\n\nHere I could restrain myself no longer; and to my joy on the\ninstant\u2014and since then whenever I have thought of it\u2014Norah withdrew\nher hand as if to set me free. I stepped forward, and with one blow\nfair in the lips knocked the foul-mouthed ruffian head over heels. He\nrose in an instant, his face covered with blood, and rushed at me.\nThis time I stepped out, and with an old football trick, taking him on\nthe breast-bone with my open hand, again tumbled him over. He arose\nlivid\u2014but this time his passion was cold\u2014and standing some yards off,\nsaid, whilst he wiped the blood from his face:\u2014\n\n\u201cWait! Ye\u2019ll be sorry yit ye shtruck that blow! Aye! ye\u2019ll both be\nsorry\u2014sad an\u2019 sorry\u2014an\u2019 for shame that ye don\u2019t reckon on! Wait!\u201d\u2014I\nspoke out:\u2014\n\n\u201cWait! yes, I shall wait, but only till the time comes to punish you.\nAnd let me warn you to be careful how you speak of this lady! I have\nshown you already how I can deal with you personally; next time\u2014if\nthere be a next time\u2014\u2014\u201d Here Murdock interrupted _sotto voce_\u2014\n\n\u201cThere \u2019ll be a next time; don\u2019t fear! Be God but there will!\u201d I went\non:\u2014\n\n\u201cI shall not dirty my hands with you but I shall have you in gaol for\nslander.\u201d\n\n\u201cGaol me, is it?\u201d he sneered. \u201cWe\u2019ll see. An\u2019 so ye think ye\u2019re going\nto marry a lady, whin ye make an honest woman iv Norah Joyce, do ye?\nLuk at her! an\u2019 it\u2019s a lady ye\u2019re goin\u2019 to make iv her, is it? An\u2019 thim\nhands iv hers, wid the marks iv the milkin\u2019 an\u2019 the shpade on to them.\nMy! but they\u2019ll luk well among the quality! won\u2019t they?\u201d I was going to\nstrike him again, but Norah laid her hand on my arm; so smothering my\nanger as well as I could, I said:\u2014\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t dare to speak ill of people whose shoes you are not worthy to\nblack; and be quick about your finishing your work at Shleenanaher, for\nyou\u2019ve got to go when the time is up. I won\u2019t have the place polluted\nby your presence a day longer than I can help.\u201d\n\nNorah looked wonderingly at me and at him, for he had given a manifest\nstart. I went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cAnd as for these hands\u201d\u2014I took Norah\u2019s hands in mine\u2014\u201cperhaps the time\nmay come when you will pray for the help of their honest strength\u2014pray\nwith all the energy of your dastard soul! But whether this may be or\nnot, take you care how you cross her path or mine again, or you shall\nrue it to the last hour of your life. Come, Norah, it is not fit that\nyou should contaminate your eyes or your ears with the presence of this\nwretch!\u201d and I led her in. As we went I heard Joyce say:\u2014\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 listen to me! Niver you dare to put one foot across me mearin\u2019\nagain; or I\u2019ll take the law into me own hands!\u201d\n\nThen Dick spoke:\u2014\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 hark ye, Mr. Murdock! remember that you have to deal with me also\nin any evil that you attempt!\u201d Murdock turned on him savagely:\u2014\n\n\u201cAs for you, I dismiss ye from me imploymint. Ye\u2019ll niver set foot on\nme land agin! Away wid ye!\u201d\n\n\u201cHurrah!\u201d shouted Dick. \u201cMr. Joyce, you\u2019re my witness that he has\ndischarged me, and I am free.\u201d Then he stepped down from the porch, and\nsaid to Murdock, in as exasperating a way as he could:\u2014\n\n\u201cAnd, dear Mr. Murdock, wouldn\u2019t it be a pleasure to you to have it\nout with me here, now? Just a simple round or two\u2014to see which is the\nbest man? I am sure it would do you good\u2014and me too! I can see you are\nsimply spoiling for a fight. I promise you that there will be no legal\nconsequences if you beat me, and if I beat you I shall take my chance.\nDo let me persuade you! Just one round;\u201d and he began to take off his\ncoat. Joyce, however, stopped him, speaking gravely:\u2014\n\n\u201cNo! Mr. Sutherland, not here! and let me warn ye, for ye\u2019re a younger\nman nor me, agin such anger. I sthruck that man wance, an\u2019 it\u2019s sorry I\nam for that same! No! not that I\u2019m afeered of him\u201d\u2014answering the query\nin Dick\u2019s face\u2014\u201cbut because, for a full-grown man to sthrike in anger\nis a sarious thing. Arthur there sthruck not for himself, but for an\naffront to his wife that\u2019s promised, an\u2019 he\u2019s not to be blamed.\u201d Norah\nhere took my arm and held it tight; \u201cbut I say, wid that one blow that\nI\u2019ve sthruck since I was a lad on me mind, \u2018Never sthrike a blow in\nanger all yer life long, unless it be to purtect one ye love!\u2019\u201d Dick\nturned to him, and said heartily:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re quite right, Mr. Joyce, and I\u2019m afraid I acted like a cad.\nHere! you clear off! Your very presence seems to infect better men than\nyourself, and brings them something nearer to your level. Mr. Joyce,\nforgive me! I promise I\u2019ll take your good lesson to heart.\u201d\n\nThey both came into the room; and Norah and I looking out of the\nwindow\u2014my arm being around her\u2014saw Murdock pass down the path and out\nat the gate.\n\nWe all took our places once again around the fire. When we sat down\nNorah instinctively put her hands behind her, as if to hide them\u2014that\nruffian\u2019s words had stung her a little; and as I looked, without,\nhowever, pretending to take any notice, I ground my teeth. But with\nNorah such an ignoble thought could be but a passing one; with a quick\nblush she laid her hand open on my knee, so that, as the firelight\nfell on it, it was shown in all its sterling beauty. I thought the\nopportunity was a fair one, and I lifted it to my lips and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cNorah! I think I may say a word before your father and my friend. This\nhand\u2014this beautiful hand,\u201d and I kissed it again, \u201cis dearer to me a\nthousand times, because it can do, and has done, honest work; and I\nonly hope that in all my life I may be worthy of it.\u201d I was about to\nkiss it yet again, but Norah drew it gently away. Then she shifted her\nstool a little, and came closer to me. Her father saw the movement, and\nsaid simply:\u2014\n\n\u201cGo to him, daughter. He is worth it!\u2014he sthruck a good blow for ye\nthis night.\u201d And so we changed places, and she leaned her head against\nmy knee; her other hand\u2014the one not held in mine\u2014rested on her father\u2019s\nknee.\n\nThere we sat and smoked and talked for an hour or more. Then Dick\nlooked at me and I at him, and we rose. Norah looked at me lovingly as\nwe got our hats. Her father saw the look, and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cCome, daughter! if you\u2019re not tired, suppose we see them down the\nboreen.\u201d\n\nA bright smile and a blush came in her face; she threw a shawl over her\nhead, and we went all together. She held her father\u2019s arm and mine; but\nby-and-by the lane narrowed, and her father went in front with Dick,\nand we two followed.\n\nWas it to be wondered at, if we did lag a little behind them?\u2014and if\nwe spoke in whispers?\u2014or, if now and again, when the lane curved and\nkindly bushes projecting threw dark shadows, our lips met?\n\nWhen we came to the open space before the gate, we found Andy. He\npretended to see only Dick and Joyce, and saluted them:\u2014\n\n\u201cBegor! but it\u2019s the fine night, it is, Misther Dick, though more\nbetoken the rain is comin\u2019 on agin soon. A fine night, Misther Joyce!\nand how\u2019s Miss Norah?\u2014God bless her! Musha! but it\u2019s sorry I am that\nshe didn\u2019t walk down wid ye this fine night! An\u2019 poor Masther Art\u2014I\nsuppose the fairies has got him agin?\u201d Here he pretended to just catch\nsight of me. \u201cYer \u2019an\u2019r, but it\u2019s the sorraful man I was\u2014shure, an\u2019 I\nthought ye was tuk aff be the fairies\u2014or, mayhap, it was houldin\u2019 a\nleprachaun that ye wor. An\u2019 my! but there\u2019s Miss Norah, too, comin\u2019 to\ntake care iv her father! God bless ye, Miss Norah, Acushla!\u2014but it\u2019s\nglad I am to see ye!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I\u2019m always glad to see you, Andy,\u201d she said, and shook hands with\nhim.\n\nAndy took her aside, and said, in a staccato whisper intended for us\nall:\u2014\n\n\u201cMusha! Miss Norah, dear, may I ax ye somethin\u2019?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed you may, Andy. What is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, now, it\u2019s throubled in me mind I am about Masther Art\u2014that young\ngintleman beyant ye, talkin\u2019 t\u2019 yer father!\u201d the hypocritical villain\npointed me out, as though she did not know me. I could see in the\nmoonlight the happy smile on her face as she turned towards me.\n\n\u201cYes, I see him!\u201d she answered.\n\n\u201cWell, Miss Norah, the fairies got him on the top iv Knocknacar, and\nivir since he\u2019s been wandherin\u2019 round lukin\u2019 fur wan iv thim. I thried\nto timpt him away be tellin\u2019 him iv nice girruls iv these parts\u2014real\ngirruls, not fairies. But he\u2019s that obstinate he wouldn\u2019t luk at wan iv\nthim\u2014no, nor listen to me, ayther.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed!\u201d she said, her eyes dancing with fun.\n\n\u201cAn\u2019, Miss Norah, dear, what kind iv a girrul d\u2019ye think he wanted to\nfind?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know, Andy\u2014what kind?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, begor! but it\u2019s meself can tell ye! Shure, it\u2019s a long, yalla,\ndark girrul, shtreaky\u2014like\u2014like he knows what\u2014not quite a faymale\nnagur, wid a rid petticoat, an\u2019 a quare kind iv an eye!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Andy!\u201d was all she said, as she turned to me smiling.\n\n\u201cGet along, you villain!\u201d said I, and I shook my fist at him in fun;\nand then I took Norah aside, and told her what the \u201cquare kind iv an\neye\u201d was that I had sought\u2014and found.\n\nThen we two said \u201cGood-night\u201d in peace, whilst the others in front\nwent through the gate. We took\u2014afterwards\u2014a formal and perfectly\ndecorous farewell, only shaking hands all round, before Dick and I\nmounted the car. Andy started off at a gallop, and his \u201cGit up, ye\nould corncrake!\u201d was lost in our shouts of \u201cGood-bye!\u201d as we waved our\nhats. Looking back, we saw Norah\u2019s hands waving as she stood with her\nfather\u2019s arm around her, and her head laid back against his shoulder,\nwhilst the yellow moonlight bathed them from head to foot in a sea of\ncelestial light.\n\nAnd then we sped on through the moonlight and the darkness alike, for\nthe clouds of the coming rain rolled thick and fast across the sky.\n\nBut for me the air was all aglow with rosy light, and the car was a\nchariot flying swiftly to the dawn!\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER XIV.\n\n                           A TRIP TO PARIS.\n\n\nThe next day was Sunday; and after church I came over early to\nKnockcalltecrore, and had a long talk with Norah about her school\nproject. We decided that the sooner she began the better\u2014she because,\nas she at first alleged, every month of delay made school a less\nsuitable place for her\u2014I because, as I took care not only to allege but\nto reiterate, as the period had to be put in, the sooner it was begun\nthe sooner it would end, and so the sooner would my happiness come.\n\nNorah was very sweet, and shyly told me that if such was my decided\nopinion, she must say that she too had something of the same view.\n\n\u201cI do not want you to be pained, dear, by any delay,\u201d she said, \u201cmade\nby your having been so good to me; and I love you too well to want\nmyself to wait longer than is necessary,\u201d\u2014an admission that was an\nintoxicating pleasure to me.\n\nWe agreed that our engagement was, if not to be kept a secret, at least\nnot to be spoken of unnecessarily. Her father was to tell her immediate\nrelatives, so that there would not be any gossip at her absence, and\nI was to tell one or two of my own connexions\u2014for I had no immediate\nrelatives\u2014and perhaps one or two friends who were rather more closely\nconnected with me than those of my own blood. I asked to be allowed to\ntell also my solicitor, who was an old friend of my father\u2019s, and who\nhad always had more than merely professional relations with me. I had\nreasons of my own for telling him of the purposed change in my life,\nfor I had important matters to execute through him, so as to protect\nNorah\u2019s future in case my own death should occur before the marriage\nwas to take place. But of this, of course, I did not tell her.\n\nWe had a happy morning together, and when Joyce came in we told him\nof the conclusion we had arrived at. He fully acquiesced; and then,\nwhen he and I were alone, I asked him if he would prefer to make the\narrangements about the schools himself or by some solicitor he would\nname, or that should all be done by my solicitor? He told me that my\nLondon solicitor would probably know what to do better than anyone in\nhis own part of the world; and we agreed that I was to arrange it with\nhim.\n\nAccordingly I settled with Norah that the next day but one I should\nleave for London, and that when I had put everything on a satisfactory\nfooting I should return to Carnaclif, and so be for a little longer\nable to see my darling. Then I went back to the hotel to write my\nletters in time for post.\n\nThat afternoon I wrote to my solicitor, Mr. Chapman, and asked him to\nhave inquiries made, without the least delay, as to what was the best\nschool in Paris to which to send a young lady, almost grown up, but\nwhose education had been neglected. I added that I should be myself\nin London within two days of my letter, and would hope to have the\ninformation.\n\nThat evening I had a long talk on affairs with Dick, and opened to him\na project I had formed regarding Knockcalltecrore. This was that I\nshould try to buy the whole of the mountain, right away from where the\nsandy peninsula united it to the mainland\u2014for evidently it had ages ago\nbeen an isolated sea-girt rock-bound island. Dick knew that already we\nheld a large part of it\u2014Norah the Cliff Fields, Joyce the upper land\non the sea side, and myself the part that I had already bought from\nMurdock. He quite fell in with the idea, and as we talked it over he\ngrew more and more enthusiastic.\n\n\u201cWhy, my dear fellow,\u201d he said, as he stood up and walked about the\nroom, \u201cit will make the most lovely residence in the world, and will\nbe a fine investment for you. Holding long leases, you will easily be\nable to buy the freehold, and then every penny spent will return many\nfold. Let us once be able to find the springs that feed the bog, and\nget them in hand, and we can make the place a paradise. The springs\nare evidently high up on the hill, so that we can not only get water\nfor irrigating and ornamental purposes, but we can get power also!\nWhy, you can have electric light, and everything else you like, at the\nsmallest cost. And if it be, as I suspect, that there is a streak of\nlimestone in the hill, the place might be a positive mine of wealth as\nwell! We have not lime within fifty miles, and if once we can quarry\nthe stone here we can do anything. We can build a harbour on the south\nside, which would be the loveliest place to keep a yacht in that ever\nwas known\u2014quite big enough for anything in these parts\u2014as safe as\nPortsmouth, and of fathomless depth.\n\n\u201cEasy, old man!\u201d I cried, for the idea made me excited too.\n\n\u201cBut I assure you Art, I am within the truth!\u201d\n\n\u201cI know it, Dick\u2014and now I want to come to business!\u201d\n\n\u201cEh! how do you mean?\u201d he said, looking puzzled.\n\nThen I told him of the school project, and that I was going to London\nafter another day to arrange it. He was delighted, and quite approved.\n\n\u201cIt is the wisest thing I ever heard of!\u201d was his comment. \u201cBut how do\nyou mean about business?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cDick, this has all to be done; and it needs some one to do it. I am\nnot a scientist nor an engineer, and this project wants the aid of\nboth, or of one man who is the two. Will you do it for me\u2014and for\nNorah?\u201d\n\nHe seemed staggered for a moment, but said heartily:\n\n\u201cThat I will\u2014but it will take some time!\u201d\n\n\u201cWe can do it within two years,\u201d I answered, \u201cand that is the time\nthat Norah will be away. It will help to pass it!\u201d and I sighed.\n\n\u201cA long time, indeed, but oh, what a time, Art! Just fancy what you are\nwaiting for; there need be no unhappy moment, please God, in all those\nmonths.\u201d\n\nThen I made him a proposition, to which he, saying that my offer was\ntoo good, at first demurred. I reasoned with him, and told him that\nthe amount was little to me, as, thanks to my Great Aunt, I had more\nthan I ever could use; and that I wanted to make Norah\u2019s country home\na paradise on earth\u2014so far as love and work and the means at command\ncould do it; that it would take up all Dick\u2019s time, and keep him for\nthe whole period from pursuing his studies; and that he would have to\nbe manager as well as engineer, and would have to buy the land for\nme. I told him also my secret hope that in time he would take all my\naffairs in hand and manage everything for me.\n\n\u201cBuying the land will, I fancy, be easy enough,\u201d he said. \u201cTwo of the\nfarms are in the market now, and all round here land is literally going\nabegging. However, I shall take the matter in hand at once, and write\nyou to London, in case there should be anything before you get back.\u201d\nAnd thus we settled that night that I was, if possible, to buy the\nwhole mountain. I wrote by the next post to Mr. Caicy, telling him that\nI had a project of purchase in hand, and that Mr. Sutherland would do\neverything for me during my absence, and that whatever he wished was to\nbe done. I asked him to come over and see Dick before the week was out.\n\nThe next day I spoke to Joyce, and asked him if he would care to sell\nme the lease of the land he now held. He seemed rejoiced at the chance\nof being able to get away.\n\n\u201cI will go gladly, though, sure enough, I\u2019ll be sad for a while to lave\nthe shpot where I was born, and where I\u2019ve lived all me life. But whin\nNorah is gone\u2014an\u2019 sure she\u2019ll never be back, for I\u2019m thinkin\u2019 that\nafter her school ye\u2019ll want to get married at once\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cThat we shall!\u201d I interrupted.\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 right enough too! But widout her the place will be that lonesome\nthat I don\u2019t think I could abear it! Me sister \u2019ll go over to\nKnocknacar to live wid me married sister there, that\u2019ll be only too\nhappy to have her with her; and I\u2019ll go over to Glasgow where Eugene\nis at work. The boy wants me to come, and whin I wrote and tould him\nof Norah\u2019s engagement, he wrote at once askin\u2019 me to lave the Hill and\ncome to him. He says that before the year is out he hopes to be able to\nkeep himself\u2014an\u2019 me, too, if we should want it\u2014an\u2019 he wrote such a nice\nletter to Norah\u2014but the girl will like to tell ye about that herself! I\ncan\u2019t sell ye the Cliff Fields meself, for they belong to Norah; but if\nye like to ask her I\u2019m sure she\u2019ll make no objection.\u201d\n\n\u201cI should be glad to have them,\u201d I said, \u201cbut all shall be hers in two\nyears!\u201d\n\nAnd then and there we arranged for the sale of the property. I made\nJoyce the offer; he accepted at once, but said it was more than it was\nworth.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said I, \u201cI shall take the chance! I intend to make improvements.\u201d\n\nNorah did not make any objection to her father selling the Cliff\nFields. She told me that as I wanted to have them, I might, of course;\nbut she hoped I would never sell the spot, as it was very dear to her.\nI assured her that in this as in all other matters I would do as she\nwished, and we sealed the assurance with\u2014\u2014. Never mind! we sealed it!\n\nI spent the afternoon there, for it was to be my last afternoon with\nNorah until I came back from Paris. We went down for a while to the\nCliff Fields and sat on the table rock and talked over all our plans.\nI told her I had a scheme regarding Knockcalltecrore, but that I did\nnot wish to tell her about it as it was to be a surprise. It needed a\npretty hard struggle to be able to keep her in the dark even to this\nextent\u2014there is nothing more sweet to young lovers than to share a\nsecret. She knew that my wishes were all for her, and was content.\n\nWhen we got back to the cottage I said good-bye. This naturally took\nsome time\u2014a first good-bye always does!\u2014and went home to get my\ntraps packed ready for an early start in the morning\u2014more especially\nas I wished, when in Galway, to give Mr. Caicy instructions as to\ntransferring the two properties\u2014Norah\u2019s and her father\u2019s.\n\nWhen Dick came home, he and I had a long talk on affairs; and I saw\nthat he thoroughly understood all about the purchase of the whole\nmountain. Then we said good-night, and I retired.\n\nI did not sleep very well. I think I was too happy, and out of the\ncompleteness of my happiness there seemed to grow a fear\u2014some dim\nhaunting dread of a change\u2014something which would reverse the existing\norder of things. And so in dreams the Drowsy God played at ball with\nme; now throwing me to a dizzy height of joy, and then, as I fell\nswiftly through darkness, arresting my flight into the nether gloom\nwith some new sweet hope. It seemed to me that I was awake all the\nnight\u2014and yet I knew I must have slept for I had distinct recollections\nof dreams in which all the persons and circumstances lately present to\nmy mind were strangely jumbled together. The jumble was kaleidoscopic;\nthere was an endless succession of its phases, but the pieces all\nremained the same. There were moments when all seemed aglow with rosy\nlight, and hard on them, others horrid with the gloom of despair or\nfear; but in all, the dominating idea was the mountain standing against\nthe sunset, always as the embodiment of the ruling emotion of the\nscene\u2014and always Norah\u2019s beautiful eyes shone upon me. I seemed to live\nover again in isolated moments all the past weeks; but in such a way\nthat the legends and myths and stories of Knockcalltecrore which I had\nheard were embodied in each moment. Thus, Murdock had always a part in\nthe gloomy scenes, and got inextricably mixed up with the King of the\nSnakes. They freely exchanged personalities, and at one time I could\nsee the Gombeen Man defying St. Patrick, whilst at another the Serpent\nseemed to be struggling with Joyce, and, after twisting round the\nmountain, being only beaten off by a mighty blow from Norah\u2019s father,\nrushing to the sea through the Shleenanaher.\n\nTowards morning, as I suppose the needs of the waking day became more\npresent to my mind in the gradual process of awakening, the bent of\nmy thoughts began to be more practical; the Saint and His Majesty of\nthe Serpents began to disappear, and the two dim cuirassiers who,\nwith the money chest, had through the earlier hours of the night been\npassing far athwart my dreams\u2014appearing and disappearing equally\nmysteriously\u2014took a more prominent, or, perhaps, a more real part.\nThen I seemed to see Murdock working in a grave, whose sides were ever\ncrumbling in as he frantically sought the treasure chest, whilst the\ngun-carriage, rank with the slime of the bog, was high above him on the\nbrink of the grave, projected blackly against the yellow moon. Every\ntime this scene in its myriad variations came round, it changed to one\nwhere the sides of the grave began to tumble in, and Murdock in terror\ntried to scream out, but could make no sound, nor could he make any\neffort to approach Norah, whose strong hands were stretched out to aid\nhim.\n\nWith such a preparation for waking is it any wonder that I suddenly\nstarted broad awake with a strong sense of something forgotten, and\nfound that it was four o\u2019clock, and time to get ready for my journey.\nI did not lose any time, and after a hot cup of tea, which the cheery\nMrs. Keating had herself prepared for me, was on my way under Andy\u2019s\ncare to Recess, where we were to meet the \u201clong car\u201d to Galway.\n\nAndy was, for a wonder, silent, and as I myself felt in a most active\nframe of mind, this rather gave me an opportunity for some amusement.\nI waited for a while to see if he would suggest any topic in his usual\nstyle; but as there was no sign of a change, I began:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou are very silent to-day, Andy. You are sad! What is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m thinkin\u2019!\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I thought, Andy. But who are you thinking of?\u201d\n\n\u201cFaix, I\u2019m thinkin\u2019 iv poor Miss Norah there wid ne\u2019er a bhoy on\nthe flure at all, at all; an\u2019 iv the fairy girrul at Knocknacar\u2014the\npoor craythur waitin\u2019 for some kind iv a leprachaun to come back to\nher. They do say, yer \u2019an\u2019r, that the fairies is mighty fond iv thim\nleprachauns intirely. Musha! but it\u2019s a quare thing that weemen of all\nnatures thinks a power more iv minkind what is hard to be caught nor iv\nthim that follys thim an\u2019 is had aisy!\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed! Andy.\u201d I felt he was getting on dangerous ground, and thought\nit would be as well to keep him to generalities if I could.\n\n\u201cShure they do tell me so; that the girruls, whether fairies or weemen,\nis more fond iv lukin\u2019 out fur leprachauns, or min if that\u2019s their\nkind, than the clargy is iv killin\u2019 the divil\u2014an\u2019 they\u2019ve bin at him\nfur thousands iv years, an\u2019 him not turned a hair.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell! Andy, isn\u2019t it only natural, too? If we look at the girls and\nmake love to them, why shouldn\u2019t they have a turn too, poor things, and\nmake love to us? Now you would like to have a wife, I know; only that\nyou\u2019re too much afraid of any woman.\u201d\n\n\u201cThrue for ye! But shure an\u2019 how could I go dhrivin\u2019 about the counthry\nav I had a wife iv me own in wan place? It\u2019s meself that\u2019s welkim\neverywhere, jist because any wan iv the weemen might fear I\u2019d turn the\nlaugh on her whin I got her home; but a car-dhriver can no more shpake\nsoft to only wan girrul nor he can dhrive his car in his own shanty.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell! but Andy, what would you do if you were to get married?\u201d\n\n\u201cFaix, surr, an\u2019 the woman must settle that whin she comes. But, begor!\nit\u2019s not for a poor man like me\u2014nor for the likes iv me\u2014that the\nfairies does be keepin\u2019 their eyes out. I tell yer \u2019an\u2019r that poor min\nisn\u2019t iv much account anyhow! Shure poverty is the worst iv crimes; an\u2019\nthere\u2019s no hidin\u2019 it like th\u2019 others. Patches is saw a mighty far way\noff; and shure enough they\u2019re more frightfuller nor even the polis!\u201d\n\n\u201cBy George! Andy,\u201d said I, \u201cI\u2019m afraid you\u2019re a cynic.\u201d\n\n\u201cA cynic, sir; an\u2019, faix, what sin am I up to now?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou say poverty is a crime.\u201d\n\n\u201cBegor! but it\u2019s worse! Most crimes is forgave afther a bit; an\u2019 the\nlaw is done wid ye whin ye\u2019re atin\u2019 yer skilly. But there\u2019s some\npeople\u2014aye! an\u2019 lashins iv thim too\u2014what\u2019d rather see ye in a good\nshute iv coffin than in a bad shute iv clothes!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, Andy, you\u2019re quite a philosopher!\u201d\n\n\u201cBedad, that\u2019s quare; but whisper me now, surr, what kind iv a thing\u2019s\nthat?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell! it\u2019s a very wise man\u2014one who loves wisdom.\u201d\n\n\u201cBegor! yer \u2019an\u2019r, lovin\u2019 girruls is more in my shtyle; but I thought\nmaybe it was some new kind iv a Protestan\u2019.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy a Protestant?\u201d\n\n\u201cSorra wan iv me knows! I thought maybe they can believe even less nor\nthe ould wans.\u201d\n\nAndy\u2019s method of theological argument was quite too difficult for me,\nso I was silent; but my companion was not. He, however, evidently felt\nthat theological disquisition was no more his _forte_ than my own, for\nhe instantly changed to another topic:\u2014\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll be goin\u2019 back to Knockcalltecrore to-morra, yer \u2019an\u2019r. I\u2019ve been\ntould to call fur Mr. Caicy, th\u2019 attorney\u2014savin\u2019 yer prisence\u2014to take\nhim back to Carnaclif. Is there any missage ye\u2019d like to send to any\nwan?\u201d He looked at me so slyly that his meaning was quite obvious.\n\n\u201cThanks, Andy, but I think not; unless you tell Mr. Dick that we have\nhad a pleasant journey this morning.\u201d\n\n\u201cNothin\u2019 but that?\u2014to nobody?\u201d\n\n\u201cWho to, for instance, Andy?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere\u2019s Miss Norah, now! Shure girruls is always fond iv gettin\u2019\nmissages, an\u2019 most iv all from people what they\u2019re not fond iv!\u201d\n\n\u201cMeaning me?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yis! oh, yis! if there\u2019s wan more nor another what she hates the\nsight iv, it\u2019s yer \u2019an\u2019r! Shure didn\u2019t I notice it in her eye ere\nyistherday night, beyant at the boreen gate? Faix! but it\u2019s a nice eye\nMiss Norah has! Now, yer \u2019an\u2019r, wouldn\u2019t an eye like that be betther\nfor a young gintleman to luk into, than the quare eye iv yer fairy\ngirrul\u2014the wan that ye wor lukin\u2019 for, an\u2019 didn\u2019t find!\u201d\n\nThe sly way in which Andy looked at me as he said this was quite\nindescribable. I have seen sly humour in the looks of children where\nthe transparent simplicity of their purpose was a foil to their\nmanifest intention to pretend to deceive. I have seen the arch glances\nof pretty young women when their eyes contradicted with resistless\nforce the apparent meaning of their words; but I have never seen any\nslyness which could rival that of Andy. However, when he had spoken\nas above, he seemed to have spent the last bolt in his armoury; and\nfor the remainder of the drive to Recess he did not touch again on the\ntopic, or on a kindred one.\n\nWhen I was in the hotel porch waiting the arrival of the long car, Andy\ncame up to me:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhat day will I be in Galway for yer \u2019an\u2019r?\u201d\n\n\u201cHow do you mean, Andy? I didn\u2019t tell you I was coming back.\u201d\n\nAndy laughed a merry, ringing laugh:\u2014\n\n\u201cBegor! yer \u2019an\u2019r, d\u2019ye think there\u2019s only wan way iv tellin\u2019 things?\nMusha! but spache \u2019d be a mighty precious kind iv a thing if that was\nthe way!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Andy, is not speech the way to make known what you wish other\npeople to know?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, go to God! I\u2019d like to know if ye take it for granted whin ye\nask a girrul a question an\u2019 she says \u2018no,\u2019 that she manes it\u2014or that\nshe intends ayther that ye should think she manes it. Faix! it \u2019d be\na harrd wurrld to live in, if that was so; an\u2019 there \u2019d be mighty few\nwiddys in it ayther!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy widows, Andy?\u201d\n\n\u201cShure, isn\u2019t wives the shtuff that widdys is made iv!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! I see. I\u2019m learning, Andy\u2014I\u2019m getting on!\u201d\n\n\u201cYis! yer \u2019an\u2019r. Ye haven\u2019t got on the long cap now; but I\u2019m afeerd\nit\u2019s only a leather medal ye\u2019d get as yit. Niver mind! surr. Here\u2019s the\nlong car comin\u2019; an\u2019 whin ye tellygraph to Misther Dick to sind me over\nto Galway fur to bring ye back, I\u2019ll luk up Miss Norah an\u2019 ax her to\ncondescind to give ye some lessons in the differ betwixt \u2018yes\u2019 an\u2019 \u2018no\u2019\nas shpoke by girruls. I\u2019m tould now, it\u2019s a mighty intherestin\u2019 kind iv\na shtudy for a young gintleman!\u201d\n\nThere was no answering this Parthian shaft.\n\n\u201cGood-bye! Andy,\u201d I said, as I left a sovereign in his hand.\n\n\u201cGood luck! yer \u2019an\u2019r; though what\u2019s the use iv wishin\u2019 luck to a man,\nwhin the fairies is wid him!\u201d\n\nThe last thing I saw was Andy waving his ragged hat as we passed the\ncurve of the road round the lake before Recess was hidden from our view.\n\nWhen I got to Galway I found Mr. Caicy waiting for me. He was most\nhearty in his welcome; and told me that as there was nearly an hour to\nwait before the starting of the Dublin express, he had luncheon on the\ntable, and that we could discuss our business over it. We accordingly\nadjourned to his house, and after explaining to him what I wanted done\nwith regard to the purchase of the property at Knockcalltecrore, I told\nhim that Dick knew all the details, and would talk them over with him\nwhen he saw him on the next evening.\n\nI began my eastward journey with my inner man in a most comfortable\ncondition. Indeed, I concluded that there was no preparation for a\njourney like a bottle of \u2018Sneyd\u2019s 47\u2019 between two. I got to Dublin in\ntime for the night mail, and on the following morning walked into Mr.\nChapman\u2019s office at half-past ten o\u2019clock.\n\nHe had all the necessary information for me; indeed, his zeal and his\nkindness were such that then and there I opened my heart to him, and\nwas right glad that I had done so when I felt the hearty grasp of\nhis hand as he wished me joy and all good fortune. He was, of course,\non the side of prudence. He was my own lawyer and my father\u2019s friend;\nand it was right and fitting that he should be. But it was quite\nevident that in the background of his musty life there was some old\nromance\u2014musty old attorneys always have romances\u2014so at least say the\nbooks. He entered heartily into my plan; and suggested that, if I\nchose, he would come with me to see the school and the schoolmistress\nin Paris.\n\n\u201cIt will be better, I am sure,\u201d he said, \u201cto have an old man like\nmyself with you, and who can in our negotiations speak for her father.\nIndeed, my dear boy, from being so old a friend of your father\u2019s, and\nhaving no children of my own, I have almost come to look on you as my\nson, so it will not be much of an effort to regard Miss Norah as my\ndaughter. The schoolmistress will, in the long run, be better satisfied\nwith my standing _in loco parentis_ than with yours.\u201d It was a great\nrelief to me to find my way thus smoothed, for I had half expected some\nobjection or remonstrance on his part. His kind offer was, of course,\naccepted; and the next morning found us in Paris.\n\nWe went to see the school and the schoolmistress. All was arranged as\nwe wished. Mr. Chapman did not forget that Norah wished to have all the\nextra branches of study, or that I wished to add all that could give a\ncharm to her life. The schoolmistress opened her eyes at the total of\nNorah\u2019s requirements, which Mr. Chapman summed up as \u201call extras\u201d\u2014the\nsame including the use of a saddle-horse, and visits to the opera and\nsuch performances as should be approved of, under the special care and\nwith the special accompaniment of Madame herself.\n\nI could see that for the coming year Norah\u2019s lines would lie in\npleasant places in so far as Madame Lepecheaux could accomplish it. The\ndate of her coming was to be fixed by letter, and as soon as possible.\n\nMr. Chapman had suggested that it might be well to arrange with Madame\nLepecheaux that Norah should be able to get what clothes she might\nrequire, and such matters as are wanted by young ladies of the position\nwhich she was entering. The genial French woman quite entered into the\nidea, but insisted that the representative of Norah\u2019s father should\ncome with her to the various _magasins_ and himself make arrangements.\nHe could not refuse; and as I was not forbidden by the unsuspecting\nlady, I came too.\n\nThese matters took up some time, and it was not until the fifth day\nafter I had left Connemara that we were able to start on our return\njourney. We left at night, and after our arrival in the early morning\nwent, as soon as we had breakfasted, to Mr. Chapman\u2019s office to get our\nletters.\n\nI found two. The first I took to the window to read, where I was\nhidden behind a curtain, and where I might kiss it without being seen;\nfor, although the writing was strange to me\u2014for I had never seen her\nhandwriting\u2014I knew that it was from Norah.\n\nDo any of us who arrive at middle life ever attempt to remember our\nfeelings on receiving the first letter from the woman or the man of\nour love? Can there come across the long expanse of commonplace life,\nstrewn as it is with lost beliefs and shattered hopes, any echo\u2014any\nafter-glow\u2014of that time, any dim recollection of the thrill of pride\nand joy that flashed through us at such a moment? Can we rouse\nourselves from the creeping lethargy of the contented acceptance of\nthings, and feel the generous life-blood flowing through us once again?\n\nI held Norah\u2019s letter in my hand, and it seemed as though with but one\nmore step, I should hold my darling herself in my arms. I opened her\nletter most carefully; anything that her hands had touched was sacred\nto me. And then her message\u2014the message of her heart to mine\u2014sent\ndirect and without intermediary, reached me:\u2014\n\n       \u201cMY DEAR ARTHUR,\u2014\n\n    \u201cI hope you had a good journey, and that you enjoyed your trip\n    to Paris. Father and I are both well; and we have had excellent\n    news of Eugene, who has been promoted to more important work.\n    We have seen Mr. Sutherland every day. He says that everything\n    is going just as you wish it. Mr. Murdock has taken old Bat\n    Moynahan to live with him since you went; they are always\n    together, and Moynahan seems to be always drunk. Father thinks\n    that Mr. Murdock has some purpose on foot, and that it cannot\n    be a good one. We shall all be glad to see you soon again. I\n    am afraid this letter must seem very odd to you; but you know\n    I am not accustomed to writing letters. You must believe one\n    thing\u2014that whatever I say to you, I feel and believe with\n    all my heart. I got your letters, and I cannot tell you what\n    pleasure they gave me, or how I treasure them. Father sends his\n    love and duty. What could I send that words could carry? I may\n    not try yet. Perhaps I shall be more able to do what I wish,\n    when I know more.\n\n                                                            \u201cNORAH.\u201d\n\nThe letter disappointed me! Was any young man ever yet satisfied with\nwritten words, when his medium had hitherto been rosy lips, with the\nadded commentary of loving eyes? And yet when I look back on that\nletter from a peasant girl, without high education or knowledge of the\nworld, and who had possibly never written a letter before except to her\nfather or brother, or a girl friend, and but few even of these\u2014when I\nread in every word its simplicity and truth, and recognise the _arri\u00e8re\npens\u00e9e_ of that simple phrase, \u201cwhatever I say to you I feel and think\nwith all my heart,\u201d I find it hard to think that any other letter that\nshe or anyone else could have written, could have been more suitable,\nor could have meant more.\n\nWhen I had read Norah\u2019s letter over a few times, and feared that Mr.\nChapman would take humorous notice of my absorption, I turned to the\nother letter, which I knew was from Dick. I brought this from the\nwindow to the table, beside which I sat to read it, Mr. Chapman being\nstill deep in his own neglected correspondence.\n\nI need not give his letter in detail. It was long and exhaustive, and\ntold me accurately of every step taken and everything accomplished\nsince I had seen him. Mr. Caicy had made his appearance, as arranged,\nand the two had talked over and settled affairs. Mr. Caicy had lost\nno time, and fortune had so favoured him that he found that nearly\nall the tenants on the east side of the hill wished to emigrate, and\nso were anxious to realize on their holdings. The estate from which\nthey held was in bankruptcy; and as a sale was then being effected,\nMr. Caicy had purchased the estate, and then made arrangements for all\nwho wished to purchase to do so on easy terms from me. The nett result\nwas, that when certain formalities should be complied with, and certain\nmoneys paid, I should own the whole of Knockcalltecrore and the land\nimmediately adjoining it, together with certain other parcels of land\nin the neighbourhood. There were other matters of interest also in his\nletter. He told me that Murdock, in order to spite and injure Joyce,\nhad completed the damming up of the stream which ran from his land into\nthe Cliff Fields by blocking with great stones the narrow chine in the\nrocks through which it fell; that this, coupled with the continuous\nrains had made the bog rise enormously, and that he feared much there\nwould be some disaster. His fear was increased by what had taken place\nat Knocknacar. Even here the cuttings had shown some direful effects\nof the rain; the openings, made with so much trouble, had become\nchoked, and as a consequence the bog had risen again, and had even\nspread downwards on its original course. Alarmed by these things,\nDick had again warned Murdock of the danger in which he stood from\nthe position of his house; and further, from tampering with the solid\nbounds of the bog itself. Murdock had not taken his warnings in good\npart\u2014not any better than usual\u2014and the interview had, as usual, ended\nin a row. Murdock had made the quarrel the occasion of ventilating his\ngrievance against me for buying the whole mountain, for by this time it\nhad leaked out that I was the purchaser. His language, Dick said, was\nawful. He cursed me and all belonging to me. He cursed Joyce and Norah,\nand Dick himself, and swore to be revenged on us all, and told Dick\nthat he would balk me of finding the treasure\u2014even if I were to buy\nup all Ireland, and if he had to peril his soul to forestall me. Dick\nended his description of his proceedings characteristically:\u2014\u201cIn fact,\nhe grew so violent, and said such insulting things of you and others,\nthat I had to give him a good sound thrashing.\u201d\n\n\u201cOthers\u201d\u2014that meant Norah, of course\u2014good old Dick! It was just as\nwell for Mr. Murdock\u2019s physical comfort, and for the peace of the\nneighbourhood, that I did not meet him then and there; for, under\nthese favouring conditions, there would have been a continuance of his\nexperiences under the hands of Dick Sutherland.\n\nThen Dick went on to tell me at greater length what Norah had conveyed\nin her letter\u2014that, since I had left, Murdock had taken Bat Moynahan\nto live with him, and kept him continually drunk; that the two of them\nwere evidently trying to locate the whereabouts of the treasure; and\nthat, whenever they thought they were not watched, they trespassed on\nJoyce\u2019s land, to get near a certain part of the bog.\n\n\u201cI mean to watch them the first dark night,\u201d wrote Dick, at the close\nof his letter; \u201cfor I cannot help thinking that there is some devilment\non foot. I don\u2019t suppose you care much for the treasure\u2014you\u2019ve got\na bigger treasure from Knockcalltecrore than ever was hidden in it\nby men\u2014but, all the same, it is yours after Murdock\u2019s time is up;\nand, as the guardian of your interest, I feel that I have a right\nto do whatever may be necessary to protect you. I have seen, at\ntimes, Murdock give such a look at Moynahan out of the corners of\nhis eyes\u2014when he thought no one was looking\u2014that, upon my soul, I am\nafraid he means\u2014if he gets the chance\u2014to murder the old man, after he\nhas pumped him of all he knows. I don\u2019t want to accuse a man of such\nan intention, without being able to prove it, and of course have said\nnothing to a soul; but I shall be really more comfortable in my mind\nwhen the man has gone away.\u201d\n\nBy the time I had finished the letter, Mr. Chapman had run through\nhis correspondence\u2014vacation business was not much in his way\u2014and we\ndiscussed affairs.\n\nThe settlement of matters connected with my estate, and the\npurchase of Knockcalltecrore, together with the making of certain\npurchases\u2014including a ring for Norah\u2014kept me a few days in London;\nbut at length all was complete, and I started on my trip to the\nWest of Ireland. Before leaving, I wrote to Norah that I would be\nat Knockcalltecrore on the morning of the 20th October; and also to\nDick, asking him to see that Andy was sent to meet me at Galway on\nthe morning of the 19th\u2014for I preferred rather to have the drive\nin solitude, than to be subjected to the interruptions of chance\nfellow-passengers.\n\nAt Dublin Mr. Caicy met me, as agreed; and together we went to various\ncourts, chambers, offices, and banks\u2014completing the purchase with\nall the endless official formalities and eccentricities habitual to\na country whose administration has traditionally adopted and adapted\nevery possible development of all belonging to red-tape.\n\nAt last, however, all was completed; and very early the next morning\nMr. Caicy took his seat in the Galway express, in a carriage with the\nowner of Knockcalltecrore, to whom he had been formally appointed Irish\nlaw agent.\n\nThe journey was not a long one, and it was only twelve o\u2019clock when we\nsteamed into Galway. As we drew up at the platform, I saw Dick, who\nhad come over to meet me. He was, I thought, looking a little pale and\nanxious; but as he did not say anything containing the slightest hint\nof any cause for such a thing, I concluded that he wished to wait until\nwe were alone. This, however, was not to be for a little while; for Mr.\nCaicy had telegraphed to order lunch at his house, and thither we had\nto repair. We walked over; although Andy, who was in waiting outside\nthe station, grinning from ear to ear, offered to \u201crowl our \u2019an\u2019rs over\nin half a jiffey.\u201d\n\nLunch over, and our bodies the richer for some of Mr. Caicy\u2019s excellent\nport, we prepared to start. Dick took occasion to whisper to me:\u2014\n\n\u201cSome time on the road propose to walk for a bit, and send on the car.\nI want a talk with you alone, without making a mystery!\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right, Dick. Is it a serious matter?\u201d\n\n\u201cVery serious!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER XV.\n\n                       A MIDNIGHT TREASURE HUNT.\n\n\nWhen, some miles on our road, we came to a long stretch of moorland, I\ntold Andy to stop till we got off. This being done, I told him to go on\nand wait for us at the next house, as we wished to have a walk.\n\n\u201cThe nixt house?\u201d queried Andy, \u201cthe very nixt house? Must it be that\nsame?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, Andy!\u201d I answered, \u201cthe next after that will do equally well, or\nthe third if it is not too far off. Why do you want to change?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, yer \u2019an\u2019r, to tell ye the thruth there\u2019s a girrul at the house\nbeyant what thinks it\u2019s a long time on the road I am widout doin\u2019\nanythin\u2019 about settlin\u2019 down, an\u2019 that its time I asked her fortin,\nanyhow. Musha! but it\u2019s afeerd I am to shtop there, fur maybe she\u2019d\ntake advantage iv me whin she got me all alone, an\u2019 me havin\u2019 to wait\nthere till yez come. An\u2019 me so softhearted, that maybe I\u2019d say too much\nor too little.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy too much or too little?\u201d\n\n\u201cFaix! if I said too much I might be settled down before the month was\nout; an\u2019 if I said too little I might have a girrul lukin\u2019 black at\nme iv\u2019ry time I dhruv by. The house beyant it is a public, an\u2019 shure I\nknow I\u2019m safe there anyhow\u2014if me dhrouth\u2019ll only hould out!\u201d\n\nI took the hint, and Andy spun my shilling in the air as he drove off.\nDick and I walked together, and when he was out of earshot I said:\u2014\n\n\u201cNow, old fellow, we are alone! What is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s about Murdock.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot more than you told me in your letter, I hope. I owe you a good\nturn for that thrashing you gave him!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, that was nothing; it was a labour of love! What I want to speak of\nis a much more serious affair.\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing to touch Norah, I hope?\u201d I said anxiously.\n\n\u201cThis individual thing is not, thank God! but everything which that\nruffian can do to worry her or any of us will be done. We\u2019ll have to\nwatch him closely.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is this new thing?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is about old Moynahan. I am in serious doubt and anxiety as to what\nI should do. At present I have only suspicion to go on, and not the\nfaintest shadow of proof, and I really want help and advice.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me all about it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall! exactly as I remember it; and when I have told you, you may\nbe able to draw some conclusion which can help us.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo on! but remember I am, as yet, in ignorance of what it is all\nabout. You must not take any knowledge on my part for granted.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll bear it in mind. Well! you remember what I said in my letter,\nthat I had a suspicion of Murdock, and intended watching him?\u201d I\nnodded. \u201cTwo nights after I had written that, the evening was dark\nand wet\u2014just the weather I would have chosen myself had I had any\nmysterious purpose on hand. As soon as it got dark I put on my black\nwaterproof and fishing boots and a sou\u2019wester, and then felt armed for\nany crouching or lying down that might be required. I waited outside\nMurdock\u2019s house in the laneway, where I could see from the shadows on\nthe window that both men were in the house. I told you that old Bat\nMoynahan had taken up his residence entirely with the Gombeen Man\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd that he was always drunk!\u201d\n\n\u201cExactly! I see you understand the situation. Presently I heard a\nstumble on the stone outside the porch, and peeping in through the\nhedge I saw Murdock holding up old Moynahan. Then he shut the door\nand they came down the path. The wind was by this time blowing pretty\nstrongly, and made a loud noise in the hedgerows, and bore in the roar\nof the surf. Neither of the men could hear me, for I took care as I\nfollowed them to keep on the leeward side, and always with something\nbetween us. Murdock did not seem to have the slightest suspicion that\nany one was even on the hill side, let alone listening, and he did not\neven lower his tone as he spoke. Moynahan was too drunk to either know\nor care how loud he spoke, and indeed both had to speak pretty loud\nin order to be heard through the sound of the growing storm. The rain\nfell in torrents, and the men passed down the boreen stumbling and\nslipping. I followed on the other side of the hedge, and I can tell you\nI felt grateful to the original Mackintosh, or Golosh, or whatever was\nthe name of the Johnny who invented waterproof. When they had reached\nthe foot of the hill, they went on the road which curves round by the\nsouth-east, and I managed to scramble through the fir wood without\nlosing sight of them. When they came to the bridge over the stream,\nwhere it runs out on the north side of the Peninsula, they turned up\non the far bank. I slipped over the bridge behind them, and got on the\nfar side of the fringe of alders. Here they stopped and sheltered for a\nwhile, and as I was but a few feet from them I heard every word which\npassed. Murdock began by saying to Moynahan:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Now, keep yer wits about ye, if ye can. Ye\u2019ll get lashins iv dhrink\nwhin we get back, but remimber ye promised to go over the ground where\nyer father showed ye that the Frinchmin wint wid the gun carriage an\u2019\nthe horses. Where was it now that he tuk ye?\u2019 Moynahan evidently made\nan effort to think and speak:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018It was just about this shpot wheer he seen thim first. They crast\nover the sthrame\u2014there wor no bridge thin nigher nor Galway\u2014an\u2019 wint up\nthe side iv the hill sthraight up.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Now, couldn\u2019t ye folla the way yer father showed ye? Jist think. It\u2019s\nall dark, and there\u2019s nothin\u2019 that ye know to confuse ye\u2014no threes what\nhas growed up since thin. Thry an\u2019 remimber, an\u2019 ye\u2019ll have lashins iv\ndhrink this night, an\u2019 half the goold whin we find it.\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2018I can go! I can show the shpot! Come on.\u2019 He made a sudden bolt down\ninto the river, which was running unusually high. The current almost\nswept him away; but Murdock was beside him in a moment, crying out:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Go an! the wather isn\u2019t deep! don\u2019t be afeerd! I\u2019m wid ye.\u2019 When I\nheard this I ran round and across the bridge, and was waiting behind\nthe hedge on the road when they came up again. The two men went up the\nhill straight for perhaps a hundred yards, I still close to them; then\nMoynahan stopped:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Here\u2019s about the shpot me father tould me that he seen the min whin\nthe moon shone out. Thin they went aff beyant,\u2019 and he pointed to\nthe south. The struggle through the stream had evidently sobered him\nsomewhat, for he spoke much more clearly.\n\n\u201c\u2018Come on thin,\u2019 cried Murdock, and they moved off.\n\n\u201c\u2018Here\u2019s wheer they wint to, thin,\u2019 said Moynahan, as he stopped on the\nsouth side of the hill\u2014as I knew it to be from the louder sound of the\nsurf which was borne in by the western gale. \u2018Here they wor, jist about\nhere, an\u2019 me father wint away to hide from thim beside the big shtone\nat the Shleenanaher so that they wouldn\u2019t see him.\u2019 Then he paused,\nand went on in quite a different voice:\u2014\n\n\u201cThere, now I\u2019ve tould ye enough for wan night. Come home! for it\u2019s\nchilled to the harrt I am, an\u2019 shtarved wid the cowld. Come home! I\u2019ll\ntell no more this night.\u2019 The next sound I heard was the popping of a\ncork, and then the voice of Murdock in a cheery tone:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Here, take a sup of this, ould man. It\u2019s chilled we both are, an\u2019\ncramped wid cowld. Take a good dhraw, ye must want it if ye\u2019re as bad\nas I am!\u2019 The gurgle that followed showed that he had obeyed orders;\nthis was confirmed within an incredibly short time by his voice as he\nspoke again.\n\n\u201c\u2018Me father hid there beyant. Come on!\u2019 We all, each in his own way,\nmoved down to the Shleenanaher, and stood there. Moynahan spoke first.\n\n\u201c\u2018From here, he seen them jist over the ridge iv the hill. I can go\nthere now; come on!\u2019 He hurried up the slope, Murdock holding on to\nhim. I followed, now crouching low, for there was but little shelter\nhere. Moynahan stopped and said:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018It was just here!\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018How do ye know?\u2019 asked Murdock doubtfully.\n\n\u201c\u2018How do I know! Hasn\u2019t me father been over the shpot wid me a score iv\ntimes; aye, an\u2019 a hundhred times afore that be himself. It was here, I\ntell ye, that he seen the min wid the gun carriage for the last time.\nDo ye want to arguey it?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Not me!\u2019 said Murdock, and as he spoke I saw him stoop\u2014for as I was\nat the time lying on the ground I could see his outline against the\ndark sky. He was looking away from me, and as I looked too I could see\nhim start as he whispered to himself:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Be God! but it\u2019s thrue! there\u2019s the gun carriage!\u2019 There it was! Art,\ntrue enough before my eyes, not ten feet away on the edge of the bog!\nMoynahan went on:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Me father tould me that the mountain was different at that time; the\nbog only kem down about as low as this. Musha! but its the quare lot\nit has shifted since thin!\u2019 There was a pause, broken by Murdock, who\nspoke in a hoarse, hard voice:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018An\u2019 where did he see them nixt?\u2019 Moynahan seemed to be getting\ndrunker and drunker, as was manifest in his later speech; his dose of\nwhiskey had no doubt been a good one.\n\n\u201c\u2018He seen them next to the north beyant\u2014higher up towards Murdock\u2019s\nhouse.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Towards Murdock\u2019s house! Ye mane Joyce\u2019s?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018No, I mane Black Murdock\u2019s; the wan he had before he robbed Joyce.\nBut begor! he done himself! It\u2019s on Joyce\u2019s ground the money is! He\u2019s\na nagur, anyhow\u2014Black Murdock the Gombeen\u2014bloody end to him!\u2019 and he\nrelapsed into silence. I could hear Murdock grind his teeth; then after\na pause he spoke as the bottle popped again.\n\n\u201c\u2018Have a sup; it\u2019ll kape out the cowld.\u2019 Moynahan took the bottle.\n\n\u201c\u2018Here\u2019s death and damnation to Black Gombeen!\u2019 and the gurgling was\nheard again.\n\n\u201c\u2018Come! now, show me the shpot where yer father last saw the min!\u2019\nMurdock spoke authoritatively, and the other responded mechanically,\nand ran rather than walked along the side of the hill. Suddenly he\nstopped.\n\n\u201c\u2018Here\u2019s the shpot!\u2019 he said, and incontinently tumbled down.\n\n\u201c\u2018Git up! Wake up!\u2019 shouted Murdock in his ear. But the whiskey had\ndone its work; the man slept, breathing heavily and stentoriously,\nheedless of the storm and the drenching rain. Murdock gathered a few\nstones and placed them together\u2014I could hear the sound as they touched\neach other. Then he, too, took a pull at the bottle, and sat down\nbeside Moynahan. I moved off a little, and when I came to a whin bush\ngot behind it for a little shelter, and raising myself looked round. We\nwere quite close to the edge of the bog, about half way between Joyce\u2019s\nhouse and Murdock\u2019s, and well in on Joyce\u2019s land. I was not satisfied\nas to what Murdock would do, so I waited.\n\n\u201cFully an hour went by without any stir, and then I heard Murdock\ntrying to awaken old Moynahan. I got down on the ground again and\ncrawled over close to them. I heard Murdock shake the old man, and\nshout in his ear; presently the latter awoke, and the Gombeen Man gave\nhim another dose of whiskey. This seemed to revive him a little as well\nas to complete his awakening.\n\n\u201c\u2018Musha! but it\u2019s cowld I am!\u2019 he shivered.\n\n\u201c\u2018Begor it is\u2014git up and come home!\u2019 said Murdock, and he dragged the\nold man to his feet.\n\n\u201c\u2018Hould me up, Murtagh,\u2019 said the latter, \u2018I\u2019m that cowld I can\u2019t\nshtand, an\u2019 me legs is like shtones\u2014I can\u2019t feel them at all, at all!\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018All right!\u2019 said the other, \u2018walk on a little bit\u2014sthraight\u2014as ye\u2019re\ngoin\u2019 now\u2014I\u2019ll just shtop to cork the bottle.\u2019\n\n\u201cFrom my position I could see their movements, and as I am a living\nman, Art! I saw Murdock turn him with his face to the bog, and send him\nto walk straight to his death!\u201d\n\n\u201cGood God! Dick\u2014are you quite certain?\u201d\n\n\u201cI haven\u2019t the smallest doubt on my mind. I wish I could have, for\nit\u2019s a terrible thing to remember! That attempt to murder in the dark\nand the storm, comes between me and sleep! Moreover, Murdoch\u2019s action\nthe instant after showed only too clearly what he intended. He turned\nquickly away, and I could hear him mutter as he moved past me on his\nway down the hill:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018He\u2019ll not throuble me now\u2014curse him! an\u2019 his share won\u2019t be\nrequired,\u2019 and then he laughed a low horrible laugh, slow and harsh,\nand as though to himself; and I heard him say:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018An\u2019 whin I do get the chist, Miss Norah, ye\u2019ll be the nixt!\u2019\u201d\n\nMy blood began to boil as I heard of the villain\u2019s threat:\u2014\u201cWhere is\nhe Dick? He must deal with me for that.\u201d\n\n\u201cSteady, Art! steady!\u201d and Dick laid his hand on me.\n\n\u201cGo on!\u201d I said.\n\n\u201cI couldn\u2019t go after him, for I had to watch Moynahan, whom I followed\nclose, and I caught hold of as soon as I thought Murdock was too far\nto see me. I was only just in time, for as I touched him he staggered,\nlurched forward, and was actually beginning to sink in the bog. It was\nat one of those spots where the rock runs sheer down into the morass.\nIt took all my strength to pull him out, and when I did get him on the\nrock he sank down again into his drunken sleep. I thought the wisest\nthing I could do was to go to Joyce\u2019s for help; and as, thanks to my\nexperiments with the magnets all those weeks, I knew the ground fairly\nwell, I was able to find my way\u2014although the task was a slow and\ndifficult one.\n\nWhen I got near I saw a light at the window. My rubber boots, I\nsuppose, and the plash of the falling rain dulled my footsteps, for as\nI drew near I could see that a man was looking in at the window, but he\ndid not hear me. I crept up behind the hedge and watched him. He went\nto the door and knocked\u2014evidently not for the first time; then the door\nwas opened, and I could see Joyce\u2019s figure against the light that came\nfrom the kitchen.\n\n\u201c\u2018Who\u2019s there? What is it?\u2019 he asked. Then I heard Murdock\u2019s voice:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018I\u2019m lookin\u2019 for poor ould Moynahan. He was out on the hill in the\nevenin\u2019, but he hasn\u2019t kem home, an\u2019 I\u2019m anxious about him, for he had\na sup in him, an\u2019 I fear he may have fallen into the bog. I\u2019ve been out\nlukin\u2019 for him, but I can\u2019t find him. I thought he might have kem in\nhere.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018No, he has not been here. Are you sure he was on the hill?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Well, I thought so\u2014but what ought I to do? I\u2019d be thankful if ye\u2019d\nadvise me. Be the way, what o\u2019clock might it be now?\u2019\n\n\u201cNorah, who had joined her father, ran in and looked at the clock.\n\n\u201c\u2018It is just ten minutes past twelve,\u2019 she said.\n\n\u201c\u2018I don\u2019t know what\u2019s to be done,\u2019 said Joyce. \u2018Could he have got to\nthe shebeen?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018That\u2019s a good idea! I suppose I\u2019d betther go there an\u2019 luk afther\nhim. Ye see, I\u2019m anxious about him, for he\u2019s been livin\u2019 wid me, an\u2019 if\nanythin\u2019 happened to him, people might say I done it!\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018That\u2019s a queer thing for him to say!\u2019 said Norah to her father.\n\n\u201cMurdock turned on her at once.\n\n\u201c\u2018Quare thing\u2014no more quare than the things they\u2019ll be sayin\u2019 about you\nbefore long.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018What do you mean?\u2019 said Joyce, coming out.\n\n\u201c\u2018Oh, nawthin\u2019, nawthin\u2019! I must look for Moynahan.\u2019 And without a word\nhe turned and ran. Joyce and Norah went into the house. When Murdock\nhad quite gone I knocked at the door, and Joyce came out like a\nthunderbolt.\n\n\u201c\u2018I\u2019ve got ye now ye ruffian\u2019\u2014he shouted\u2014\u2018what did ye mean to say to me\ndaughter?\u2019 but by this time I stood in the light, and he recognized me.\n\n\u201c\u2018Hush!\u2019 I said, \u2018let me in quietly\u2019\u2014and when I passed in we shut\nthe door. Then I told them that I had been out on the mountain, and\nhad found Moynahan. I told them both that they must not ask me any\nquestions, or let on to a soul that I had told them anything\u2014that much\nmight depend on it\u2014for I thought, Art, old chap, that they had better\nnot be mixed up in it, however the matter might end. So we all three\nwent out with a lantern, and I brought them to where the old man was\nasleep. We lifted him, and between us carried him to the house; Joyce\nand I undressed him and put him in bed, between warm blankets. Then I\ncame away and went over to Mrs. Kelligan\u2019s, where I slept in a chair\nbefore the fire.\n\n\u201cThe next morning when I went up to Joyce\u2019s I found that Moynahan\nwas all right\u2014that he hadn\u2019t even got a cold, but that he remembered\nnothing whatever about his walking into the bog. He had even expressed\nhis wonder at seeing the state his clothes were in. When I went into\nthe village I found that Murdock had been everywhere and had told\neveryone of his fears about Moynahan. I said nothing of his being\nsafe, but tried quietly to arrange matters so that I might be present\nwhen Murdock should set his eyes for the first time on the man he had\ntried to murder. I left him with a number of others in the shebeen,\nand went back to bring Moynahan, but found, when I got to Joyce\u2019s that\nhe had already gone back to Murdock\u2019s house. Joyce had told him, as we\nhad arranged, that when Murdock had come asking for him he had been\nalarmed, and had gone out to look for him; had found him asleep on the\nhillside, and had brought him home with him. As I found that my scheme\nof facing Murdock with his victim was frustrated, I took advantage of\nMurdock\u2019s absence to remove the stones which he had placed to mark the\nspot where the treasure was last seen. I found them in the form of a\ncross, and moving them, replaced them at a spot some distance lower\ndown the line of the bog. I marked the place, however, with a mark of\nmy own\u2014four stones put widely apart at the points of a letter Y\u2014the\ncentre marking the spot where the cross had been. Murdock returned to\nhis house not long after, and within a short time ran down to tell that\nMoynahan had found his way home, and was all safe. They told me that he\nwas then white and scared-looking.\u201d Here Dick paused:\u2014\n\n\u201cNow, my difficulty is this. I know he tried to murder the man, but\nI am not in a position to prove it. No man could expect his word to\nbe taken in such a matter and under such circumstances. And yet I am\nmorally certain that he intends to murder him still. What should I do?\nTo take any preventive steps would involve making the charge which I\ncannot prove. As yet neither of the men has the slightest suspicion\nthat I am concerned in the matter in any way\u2014or that I even know of it.\nNow may I not be most useful by keeping a watch and biding my time?\u201d\n\nI thought a moment, but there seemed to be only one answer:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou are quite right, Dick! We can do nothing just at present. We\nmust keep a sharp look out, and get some tangible evidence of his\nintention\u2014something that we can support\u2014and then we can take steps\nagainst him. As to the matter of his threat to harm Norah, I shall\ncertainly try to bring that out in a way we can prove, and then he\nshall have the hottest corner he ever thought of in his life.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite right that he should have it, Art; but we must think of her too.\nIt would not do to have her name mixed up with any gossip. She will be\ngoing away very shortly, I suppose, and then his power to hurt her will\nbe nil. In the mean time everything must be done to guard her.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall get a dog\u2014a good savage one\u2014this very day; that ruffian must\nnot be able to even get near the house again\u2014\u2014\u201d Dick interrupted me:\u2014\n\n\u201cOh, I quite forgot to tell you about that. The very day after that\nnight I got a dog and sent it up. It is the great mastiff that\nMeldon, the dispensary doctor, had\u2014the one that you admired so much.\nI specially asked Norah to keep it for you, and train it to be always\nwith her. She promised that she would always feed him herself and take\nhim about with her. I am quite sure she understood that he was to be\nher protector.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you, Dick,\u201d I said, and I am sure he knew I was grateful.\n\nBy this time we had come near the house, outside which the car stood.\nAndy was inside, and evidently did not expect our coming so soon, for\nhe sat with a measure of stout half emptied before him on the table,\nand on each of his knees sat a lady\u2014one evidently the mother of the\nother. As we appeared in the doorway he started up.\n\n\u201cBe the powdhers, there\u2019s the masther! Git up, acushla!\u201d\u2014this to the\nyounger woman, for the elder had already jumped up. Then to me:\u2014\n\n\u201cWon\u2019t ye sit down, yer \u2019an\u2019r\u2014there\u2019s only the wan chair, so ye see the\nshifts we\u2019re dhruv to, whin there\u2019s three iv us. I couldn\u2019t put Mrs.\nDempsey from off iv her own shtool, an\u2019 she wouldn\u2019t sit on me knee\nalone\u2014the dacent woman!\u2014so we had to take the girrul on too. They all\nsit that way in these parts!\u201d The latter statement was made with brazen\nopenness and shameless effrontery. I shook my finger at him:\u2014\n\n\u201cTake care, Andy. You\u2019ll get into trouble one of these days!\u201d\n\n\u201cInto throuble! for a girrul sittin\u2019 on me knee! Begor! the\nGovermint\u2019ll have to get up more coorts and more polis if they want\nto shtop that ould custom. An\u2019 more betoken, they\u2019ll have to purvide\nmore shtools, too. Mrs. Dempsey, whin I come round agin, mind ye kape\na govermint shtool for me! Here\u2019s the masther wouldn\u2019t let any girrul\nsit on any wan\u2019s knee. Begor! not even the quality nor the fairies! All\nright, yer \u2019an\u2019r, the mare\u2019s quite ready. Good-bye, Mrs. Dempsey. Don\u2019t\nforgit the shtool\u2014an\u2019 wan too for Biddy! Gee up, ye ould corncrake!\u201d\nand so we resumed our journey.\n\nAs we went along Dick gave me all details regarding the property which\nhe and Mr. Caicy had bought for me. Although I had signed deeds and\npapers without number, and was owner in the present or in future of the\nwhole hill, I had not the least idea of either the size or disposition\nof the estate. Dick had been all over it, and was able to supply me\nwith every detail. As he went on he grew quite enthusiastic\u2014everything\nseemed to be even more favourable than he had at first supposed. There\nwas plenty of clay; and he suspected that in two or three places there\nwas pottery clay, such as is found chiefly in Cornwall. There was any\namount of water; and when we should be able to control the whole hill\nand regulate matters as we wished, the supply would enable us to do\nanything in the way of either irrigation or ornamental development. The\nonly thing we lacked, he said, was limestone, and he had a suspicion\nthat limestone was to be found somewhere on the hill.\n\n\u201cI cannot but think,\u201d said he, \u201cthat there must be a streak of\nlimestone somewhere. I cannot otherwise account for the subsidence\nof the lake on the top of the hill. I almost begin to think that\nthat formation of rock to which the Snake\u2019s Pass is due runs right\nthrough the hill, and that we shall find that the whole top of it has\nsimilar granite cliffs, with the hollow between them possibly filled\nin with some rock of one of the later formations. However, when we get\npossession I shall make accurate search. I tell you, Art, it will well\nrepay the trouble if we can find it. A limestone quarry here would be\npretty well as valuable as a gold mine. Nearly all these promontories\non the western coast of Ireland are of slate or granite, and here we\nhave not got lime within thirty miles. With a quarry on the spot, we\ncan not only build cheap and reclaim our own bog, but we can supply\nfive hundred square miles of country with the rudiments of prosperity,\nand at a nominal price compared with what they pay now!\u201d\n\nThen he went on to tell me of the various arrangements effected\u2014how\nthose who wished to emigrate were about to do so, and how others who\nwished to stay were to have better farms given them on what we called\n\u201cthe mainland\u201d; and how he had devised a plan for building houses for\nthem\u2014good solid stone houses, with proper offices and farmyards. He\nconcluded what seemed to me like a somewhat modified day-dream:\u2014\n\n\u201cAnd if we can find the limestone\u2014well! the improvements can all be\ndone without costing you a penny; and you can have around you the most\nprosperous set of people to be found in the country.\u201d\n\nIn such talk as this the journey wore on till the evening came upon\nus. The day had been a fine one\u2014one of those rare sunny days in a wet\nautumn. As we went I could see everywhere the signs of the continuous\nrains. The fields were sloppy and sodden, and the bottoms were flooded;\nthe bogs were teeming with water; the roads were washed clean\u2014not only\nthe mud but even the sand having been swept away, and the road metal\nwas everywhere exposed. Often, as we went along, Dick took occasion to\nillustrate his views as to the danger of the shifting of the bog at\nKnockalltecrore by the evidence around us of the destructive power of\nthe continuous rain.\n\nWhen we came to the mountain gap where we got our first and only view\nof Knockalltecrore from the Galway road, Andy reined in the mare, and\nturned to me, pointing with his whip:\u2014\n\n\u201cThere beyant, yer \u2019an\u2019r, is Knockalltecrore\u2014the hill where the\nthreasure is. They do say that a young English gintleman has bought up\nthe hill, an\u2019 manes to git the threasure for himself. Begor! perhaps he\nhas found it already. Here! Gee up! ye ould corncrake! What the divil\nare ye kapin\u2019 the quality waitin\u2019 for?\u201d and we sped down the road.\n\nThe sight of the hill filled me with glad emotion, and I do not think\nthat it is to be wondered at. And yet my gladness was followed by an\nunutterable gloom\u2014a gloom that fell over me the instant after my eyes\ntook in the well-known hill struck by the falling sunset from the west.\nIt seemed to me that all had been so happy and so bright and so easy\nfor me, that there must be in store some terrible shock or loss to make\nthe balance even, and, to reduce my satisfaction with life to the\nlevel above which man\u2019s happiness may not pass.\n\nThere was a curse on the hill! I felt it and realized it at that\nmoment for the first time. I suppose I must have shown something of my\nbrooding fear in my face, for Dick, looking round at me after a period\nof silence, said suddenly:\u2014\n\n\u201cCheer up Art, old chap! Surely you, at any rate, have no cause to be\ndown on your luck! Of all men that live, I should think you ought to be\nabout the very happiest!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s it, old fellow,\u201d I answered. \u201cI fear that there must be\nsomething terrible coming. I shall never be quite happy till Norah and\nall of us are quite away from the Hill.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat on earth do you mean? Why, you have just bought the whole place!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt may seem foolish, Dick; but the words come back to me and keep\nringing in my ears\u2014\u2018The Mountain holds\u2014and it holds tight.\u2019\u201d Dick\nlaughed:\u2014\n\n\u201cWell, Art, it is not my fault, or Mr. Caicy\u2019s, if you don\u2019t hold it\ntight. It is yours now, every acre of it; and, if I don\u2019t mistake,\nyou are going to make it in time\u2014and not a long time either\u2014into the\nfairest bower to which the best fellow ever brought the fairest lady!\nThere now, Art, isn\u2019t that a pretty speech?\u201d\n\nDick\u2019s words made me feel ashamed of myself, and I made an effort to\npull myself together, which lasted until Dick and I said good-night.\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER XVI.\n\n                            A GRIM WARNING.\n\n\nI cannot say the night was a happy one. There were moments when I\nseemed to lose myself and my own anxieties in thoughts of Norah and the\nfuture, and such moments were sweet to look back on\u2014then as they are\nnow; but I slept only fitfully and dreamt frightfully.\n\nIt was natural enough that my dreams should centre around\nKnockcalltecrore; but there was no good reason why they should all\nbe miserable or terrible. The Hill seemed to be ever under some\nuncomfortable or unnatural condition. When my dreams began, it was\nbathed in a flood of yellow moonlight, and at its summit was the giant\nSnake, the jewel of whose crown threw out an unholy glare of yellow\nlight, and whose face and form kept perpetually changing to those of\nMurtagh Murdock.\n\nI can now, with comparatively an easy effort, look back on it all, and\ndisentangle or give a reason for all the phases of my thought. The\nsnake \u201cwid side whiskers\u201d was distinctly suggested the first night I\nheard the legend at Mrs. Kelligan\u2019s; the light from the jewel was a\npart of the legend itself; and so on with every fact and incident.\nPresently, as I dreamt, the whole Mountain seemed to writhe and shake\nas though the great Snake was circling round it, deep under the earth;\nand again this movement changed into the shifting of the bog. Then\nthrough dark shadows that lay athwart the hill I could see the French\nsoldiers, with their treasure-chest, pass along in dusky, mysterious\nsilence, and vanish in the hill side. I saw Murdock track them; and,\nwhen they were gone, he and old Moynahan\u2014who suddenly and mysteriously\nappeared beside him\u2014struggled on the edge of the bog, and, with a\nshuddering wail, the latter threw up his arms and sank slowly into the\ndepths of the morass. Again Norah and I were wandering together, when\nsuddenly Murdock\u2019s evil face, borne on a huge serpent body, writhed up\nbeside us; and in an instant Norah was whirled from my side and swept\ninto the bog, I being powerless to save her or even help her.\n\nThe last of all my dreams was as follows:\u2014Norah and I were sitting on\nthe table rock in the Cliff Fields; all was happy and smiling around\nus. The sun shone and the birds sang, and as we sat hand in hand, the\nbeating of our hearts seemed a song also. Suddenly there was a terrible\nsound\u2014half a roar, as of an avalanche, and half a fluttering sound,\nas of many great wings. We clung together in terror, waiting for the\nportent which was at hand. And then over the cliff poured the whole\nmass of the bog, foul-smelling, f\u0153tid, terrible, and of endless might.\nJust as it was about to touch us, and as I clasped Norah to me, so\nthat we might die together, and whilst her despairing cry was in my\near, the whole mighty mass turned into loathsome, writhing snakes,\nsweeping into the sea!\n\nI awoke with a scream which brought nearly every one in the hotel into\nmy bedroom. Dick was first, and found me standing on the floor, white\nand drunk with terror.\n\n\u201cWhat is it, old fellow?\u2014oh! I see, only a nightmare! Come on! he\u2019s all\nright; it\u2019s only a dream!\u201d and almost before I had realized that the\nwaking world and not the world of shadows was around me, the room was\ncleared and I was alone. I lit a candle and put on some clothes; as it\nwas of no use trying to sleep again after such an experience, I got a\nbook and resolutely set to reading. The effort was successful, as such\nefforts always are, and I quite forgot the cause of my disturbance in\nwhat I read. Then the matter itself grew less interesting....\n\nThere was a tap at my door. I started awake\u2014it was broad daylight, and\nthe book lay with crumpled leaves beside me on the floor. It was a\nmessage to tell me that Mr. Sutherland was waiting breakfast for me.\nI called out that I would be down in a few minutes, which promise I\ncarried out as nearly as was commensurate with the requirements of the\ntub and the toilet. I found Dick awaiting me; he looked at me keenly as\nI came in, and then said heartily:\u2014\n\n\u201cI see your nightmare has not left any ill-effects. I say! old chap, it\nmust have been a whopper\u2014a regular Derby winner among nightmares\u2014worse\nthan Andy\u2019s old corncrake. You yelled fit to wake the dead. I would\nhave thought the contrast between an ordinary night and the day you are\ngoing to have would have been sufficient to satisfy anyone without such\nan addition to its blackness.\u201d Then he sung out in his rich voice:\u2014\n\n    \u201cOch, Jewel, kape dhramin\u2019 that same till ye die,\n    For bright mornin\u2019 will give dirty night the black lie.\u201d\n\nWe sat down to breakfast, and I am bound to say, from the trencher\nexperience of that meal, that there is nothing so fine as an appetiser\nfor breakfast, as a good preliminary nightmare.\n\nWe drove off to Knockcalltecrore. When we got to the foot of the hill\nwe stopped as usual. Andy gave me a look which spoke a lot, but he did\nnot say a single word\u2014for which forbearance I owed him a good turn.\nDick said:\u2014\n\n\u201cI want to go round to the other side of the hill, and shall cross over\nthe top. I shall look you up, if I may, at Joyce\u2019s about two o\u2019clock.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right,\u201d I said; \u201cwe shall expect you,\u201d and I started up the hill.\n\nWhen I got to the gate, and opened it, there was a loud, deep barking,\nwhich, however, was instantly stilled. I knew that Norah had tied up\nthe mastiff, and I went to the door. I had no need to knock; for as I\ncame near, it opened, and in another instant Norah was in my arms. She\nwhispered in my ear when I had kissed her:\u2014\n\n\u201cI would like to have come out to meet you, but I thought you would\nrather meet me here!\u201d Then, as we went into the sitting-room,\nhand-in-hand, she whispered again:\u2014\n\n\u201cAunt has gone to buy groceries, so we are all alone. You must tell me\nall about everything.\u201d\n\nWe sat down close together, still hand-in-hand, and I told her all that\nwe had done since I had left. When I had finished the Paris part of the\nstory, she put up her hands before her face, and I could see the tears\ndrop through her fingers.\n\n\u201cNorah! Norah! Don\u2019t cry, my darling! What is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Arthur, I can\u2019t help it! It is so wonderful\u2014more than all I ever\nlonged or wished for!\u201d Then she took her hands away, and put them in\nmine, and looked me bravely in the face, with her eyes half-laughing\nand half-crying, and her cheeks wet, and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cArthur, you are the Fairy Prince! There is nothing that I can wish\nfor that you have not done\u2014even my dresses are ready by your sweet\nthoughtfulness. It needs an effort, dear, to let you do all this\u2014but\nI see it is quite right\u2014I must be dressed like one who is to be your\nwife. I shall think I am pleasing you afresh, every time I put one of\nthem on; but I must pay for them myself. You know I am quite rich now.\nI have all the money you paid for the Cliff Fields; father says it\nought to go in such things as will fit me for my new position, and will\nnot hear of taking any of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is quite right, Norah, my darling\u2014and you are quite right, too\u2014all\nshall be just as you wish. Now tell me all about everything since I\nwent away.\u201d\n\n\u201cMay I bring in Turco? he is so quiet with me; and he must learn to\nknow you and love you, or he wouldn\u2019t be any friend of mine.\u201d She\nlooked at me lovingly, and went and brought in the mastiff, by whom I\nwas forthwith received into friendship.\n\nThat was indeed a happy day! We had a family consultation about the\nschool; the time of beginning was arranged, and there was perfect\naccord amongst us. As Dick and I drove back through the darkness, I\ncould not but feel that, even if evil were looming ahead of us, at\nleast some of us had experienced what it is to be happy.\n\nIt had been decided that after a week\u2019s time\u2014on the 28th October\u2014Norah\nwas to leave for school. Her father was to bring her as far as London,\nand Mr. Chapman was to take her over to Paris. This was Joyce\u2019s own\nwish; he said:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Twill be betther for ye, darlin\u2019, to go widout me. Ye\u2019ll have quite\nenough to do for a bit, to keep even wid the girls that have been\nreared in betther ways nor you, widout me there to make little iv ye.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, father,\u201d she remonstrated, \u201cI don\u2019t want to appear any different\nfrom what I am! And I am too fond of you, and too proud of you, not to\nwant to appear as your daughter.\u201d\n\nHer father stroked her hair gently as he answered:\u2014\n\n\u201cNorah! my darlin\u2019, it isn\u2019t that. Ye\u2019ve always been the good and\ndutiful daughter to me; an\u2019 in all your pretty life there\u2019s not wan\nthing I wish undone or unsaid. But I\u2019m older than you, daughter, an\u2019\nI know more iv the world; an\u2019 what I say, is best for ye\u2014now, and in\nyer future. I\u2019m goin\u2019 to live wid Eugene; an\u2019 afther a while I suppose\nI, too, \u2019ll be somethin\u2019 different from what I am. An\u2019 thin, whin I\u2019ve\nlived awhile in a city, and got somethin\u2019 of city ways, I\u2019ll come an\u2019\nsee ye, maybe. Ye must remimber, that it\u2019s not only of you we\u2019ve to\nthink, but of th\u2019 other girls in the school. I don\u2019t want to have any\nof them turnin\u2019 up their noses at ye\u2014that\u2019s not the way to get the best\nout iv school, me dear; for I suppose school is like everywhere else in\nthe world\u2014the higher ye\u2019re able to hould yer head, the more others\u2019ll\nlook up to ye!\u201d\n\nHis words were so obviously true, that not one of us had a word to\nsay, and the matter was acquiesced in _nem. con._ I myself got leave\nto accompany the party as far as London\u2014but not beyond. It was further\narranged that Joyce should take his daughter to Galway, to get some\nclothes for her\u2014just enough to take her to Paris\u2014and that when in Paris\nshe should have a full outfit under the direction of Madame Lepechaux.\nThey were to leave on Friday, so as to have the Saturday in Galway; and\nas Norah wanted to say good-bye on the Sunday to old schoolfellows and\nfriends in the convent, they would return on Monday, the 25th October.\nAccordingly, on the morning after next, Joyce took a letter for me to\nMr. Caicy, who was to pay to him whatever portion of the purchase-money\nof his land he should require, and whom I asked to give all possible\nassistance in whatever matters either he or Norah might desire. I would\nhave dearly liked to have gone myself with them, but the purpose and\nthe occasion were such that I could not think of offering to go. On the\nday fixed they left on the long car from Carnaclif. They started in\ntorrents of rain, but were as well wrapped up as the resources of Dick\nand myself would allow.\n\nWhen they had gone, Dick and I drove over to Knockcalltecrore. Dick\nwished to have an interview with Murdock, regarding his giving up\npossession of the land on the 27th, as arranged.\n\nWe left Andy as usual at the foot of the hill, and went up to Murdock\u2019s\nhouse. The door was locked; and although we knocked several times, we\ncould get no answer. We came away, therefore, and went up the hill, as\nDick wished me to see where, according to old Moynahan, was the last\nplace at which the Frenchmen had been seen. As we went on and turned\nthe brow of the mound, which lay straight up\u2014for the bog-land lay in a\ncurve round its southern side\u2014we saw before us two figures at the edge\nof the bog. They were those of Murdock and old Moynahan. When we saw\nwho they were, Dick whispered to me:\u2014\n\n\u201cThey are at the place to which I changed the mark, but are still on\nJoyce\u2019s land.\u201d\n\nThey were working just as Dick and I had worked with Murdock, when\nwe had recovered the gun-carriage, and were so intent on the work at\nwhich they toiled with feverish eagerness, that they did not see us\ncoming; and it was only when we stood close beside them that they were\nconscious of our presence. Murdock turned at once with a scowl and a\nsort of snarl. When he saw who it was, he became positively livid with\npassion, and at once began to bombard us with the foulest vituperation.\nDick pressed my arm, as a hint to keep quiet and leave the talking to\nhim, and I did nothing; but he opposed the Gombeen Man\u2019s passion with\nan unruffled calm. Indeed, he seemed to me to want even to exasperate\nMurdock to the last degree. When the latter paused for a second for\nbreath, he quietly said:\u2014\n\n\u201cKeep your hair on, Murdock! and just tell me quietly why you are\ntrespassing; and why, and what, you are trying to steal from this\nproperty?\u201d\n\nMurdock made no answer, so Dick went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cLet me tell you that I act for the owner of this land, who bought it\nas it is, and I shall hold you responsible for your conduct. I don\u2019t\nwant to have a row needlessly, so if you go away quietly, and promise\nto not either trespass here again, or try to steal anything, I shall\nnot take any steps. If not, I shall do as the occasion demands.\u201d\n\nMurdock answered him with the most manifestly intentional insolence:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou! ye tell me to go away! I don\u2019t ricognize ye at all. This land\nbelongs to me frind, Mr. Joyce, an\u2019 I shall come on it whin I like,\nand do as I like. Whin me frind tells me not to come here, I shall\nshtay away. Till then I shall do as I like!\u201d\n\nSaid Dick:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou think that will do to bluff me because you know Joyce is away\nfor the day, and that, in the meantime, you can do what you want, and\nperhaps get out of the bog some property that does not belong to you. I\nshall not argue with you any more; but I warn you that you will have to\nanswer for your conduct.\u201d\n\nMurdock and Moynahan continued their pulling at the rope. We waited\ntill the haul was over, and saw that the spoil on this occasion was a\npart of the root of a tree. Then, when both men were sitting exhausted\nbeside it, Dick took out his note-book, and began to make notes of\neverything. Presently he turned to Murdock, and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cHave you been fishing, Mr. Murdock? What a strange booty you have\nbrought up! It is really most kind of you to be aiding to secure the\nwinter firing for Mr. Joyce and my friend. Is there anything but\nbogwood to be found here?\u201d\n\nMurdock\u2019s reply was a curse and a savage scowl; but old Moynahan joined\nin the conversation:\u2014\n\n\u201cNow, I tould ye, Murtagh, that we wur too low down!\u201d\n\n\u201cShut up!\u201d shouted the other, and the old man shrank back as if he had\nbeen struck. Dick looked down, and seemed to be struck by the cross of\nloose stones at his feet, and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cDear me! that is very strange\u2014a cross of stones. It would almost seem\nas if it were made here to mark something; but yet\u201d\u2014here he lifted one\nof the stones\u2014\u201cit cannot have been long here; the grass is fresh under\nthe stones.\u201d Murdock said nothing, but clenched his hands and ground\nhis teeth. Presently, however, he sent Moynahan back to his house to\nget some whiskey. When the latter was out of earshot, Murdock turned to\nus, and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 so, ye think to baffle me! do ye? Well! I\u2019ll have that money\nout\u2014if I have to wade in yer blood. I will, by the livin\u2019 God!\u201d and he\nburst into a string of profanities that made us shudder.\n\nHe was in such deadly earnest that I felt a pity for him, and said\nimpulsively:\u2014\n\n\u201cLook here! if you want to get it out, you can have a little more time\nif you like, if only you will conduct yourself properly. I don\u2019t want\nto be bothered looking for it. Now, if you\u2019ll only behave decently, and\nbe something like a civilized being, I\u2019ll give you another month if you\nwant it!\u201d\n\nAgain he burst out at me with still more awful profanities. He didn\u2019t\nwant any of my time! He\u2019d take what time he liked! God Himself\u2014and\nhe particularized the persons of the Trinity\u2014couldn\u2019t balk him, and\nhe\u2019d do what he liked; and if I crossed his path it would be the worse\nfor me! And, as for others, that he would send the hard word round\nthe country about me and my leman!\u2014I couldn\u2019t be always knocking the\nruffian down, so I turned away and called to Dick:\u2014\n\n\u201cComing!\u201d said Dick, and he walked up to Murdock and knocked him down.\nThen, as the latter lay dazed on the grass, he followed me.\n\n\u201cReally,\u201d he said, apologetically, \u201cthe man wants it. It will do him\ngood!\u201d\n\nThen we went back to Carnaclif.\n\nThese three days were very dreary ones for me: we spent most of the\ntime walking over Knockcalltecrore and making plans for the future.\nBut, without Norah, the place seemed very dreary!\n\nWe did not go over on the Monday, as we knew that Joyce and Norah would\nnot get home until late in the evening, and would be tired. Early,\nhowever, on the day after\u2014Tuesday\u2014we drove over. Joyce was out, and\nDick left me at the foot of the boreen, so when I got to the house I\nfound Norah alone.\n\nThe dear girl showed me her new dresses with much pride; and presently\ngoing to her room put on one of them, and came back to let me see how\nshe looked. Her face was covered with blushes. Needless to say that I\nadmired the new dress, as did her father, who just then came in.\n\nWhen she went away to take off the dress Joyce beckoned me outside.\nWhen we got away from the house he turned to me; his face was very\ngrave, and he seemed even more frightened than angry.\n\n\u201cThere\u2019s somethin\u2019 I was tould while I was away, that I think ye ought\nto know.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo on, Mr. Joyce!\u201d\n\n\u201cSomebody has been sayin\u2019 hard things about Norah!\u201d\n\n\u201cAbout Norah! Surely there is nobody mad enough or bad enough to speak\nevil of her.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere\u2019s wan!\u201d He turned as he spoke, and looked instinctively in the\ndirection of Murdock\u2019s house.\n\n\u201cOh, Murdock! as he threatened\u2014what did he say?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know. I could only get it that somebody was sayin\u2019\nsomethin\u2019, an\u2019 that it would be well to have things so that no wan\ncould say anythin\u2019 that we couldn\u2019t prove. It was a frind tould me\u2014and\nthat\u2019s all he would tell! Mayhap he didn\u2019t know any more himself; but I\nknew him to be a frind!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd it was a friendly act, Mr. Joyce. I have no doubt that Murdock has\nbeen sending round wicked lies about us all! But thank God! in a few\ndays we will be all moving, and it doesn\u2019t matter much what he can do.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! it won\u2019t matter much in wan way, but he\u2019s not goin\u2019, all the same,\nto throw dirt on me child. If he goes on I\u2019ll folly him up!\u201d\n\n\u201cHe won\u2019t go on, Mr. Joyce. Before long, he\u2019ll be out of the\nneighbourhood altogether. To tell you the truth, I have bought the\nwhole of his land, and I get possession of it to-morrow; and then I\u2019ll\nnever let him set foot here again. When once he is out of this, he\nwill have too much other wickedness on hand to have time to meddle with\nus!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s thrue enough! Well! we\u2019ll wait an\u2019 see what happens\u2014but we\u2019ll\nbe mighty careful all the same.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite right,\u201d I said, \u201cwe cannot be too careful in such a matter!\u201d\nThen we went back to the house, and met Norah coming into the room in\nher red petticoat, which she knew I liked. She whispered to me! oh so\nsweetly:\u2014\n\n\u201cI thought, dear, you would like me to be the old Norah, to-day. It is\nour last day together in the old way.\u201d Then hand-in-hand we went down\nto the Cliff Fields, and sat on the table-rock for the last time, and\nfeasted our eyes on the glorious prospect, whilst we told each other\nour bright dreams of the future.\n\nIn the autumn twilight we came back to the house; Dick had, in the\nmeantime, come in, and we both stayed for tea. I saw that Dick had\nsomething to tell me, but he waited until we were going home before he\nspoke.\n\nIt was a sad parting with Norah that night; for it was the last day\ntogether before she went off to school. For myself, I felt that\nwhatever might be in the future\u2014and I hoped for much\u2014it was the last\ntime that I might sit by the firelight with the old Norah. She, too,\nwas sad, and when she told me the cause of her sadness, I found that it\nwas the same as my own.\n\n\u201cBut oh! Arthur, my darling, I shall try\u2014I shall try to be worthy of my\ngreat good fortune\u2014and of you!\u201d she said, as she put her arms round my\nneck, and leaning her head on my bosom, began to cry.\n\n\u201cHush! Norah. Hush, my darling!\u201d I said, \u201cyou must not say such things\nto me. You, who are worthy of all the good gifts of life. Oh, my dear!\nmy dear! I am only fearful that you may be snatched away from me by\nsome terrible misfortune\u2014I shall not be happy till you are safely away\nfrom the shadow of this fateful mountain and are beginning your new\nlife.\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly one more day!\u201d she said. \u201cTo-morrow we must settle up\neverything\u2014and I have much to do for father\u2014poor father! how good he is\nto me. Please God! Arthur, we shall be able some day to repay him for\nall his goodness to me!\u201d How inexpressibly sweet it was to me to hear\nher say \u201cwe\u201d shall be able, as she nestled up close to me.\n\nAh! that night! Ah! that night!\u2014the end of the day when, for the last\ntime, I sat on the table-rock with the old Norah that I loved so well.\nIt almost seemed as if Fate, who loves the keen contrasts of glare and\ngloom, had made on purpose that day so bright, and of such flawless\nhappiness!\n\nAs we went back to Carnaclif Dick told me what had been exercising his\nmind all the afternoon. When he had got to the bog he found that it had\nrisen so much that he thought it well to seek the cause. He had gone at\nonce to the place where Murdock had dammed up the stream that ran over\ninto the Cliff Fields, and had found that the natural position of the\nground had so far aided his efforts that the great stones thrown into\nthe chine had become solidified with the rubbish by the new weight of\nthe risen bog into a compact mass, and unless some heroic measure, such\nas blowing up the dam, should be taken, the bog would continue to rise\nuntil it should flow over the lowest part of the solid banks containing\nit.\n\n\u201cAs sure as we are here, Art,\u201d he said, \u201cthat man will do himself to\ndeath. I am convinced that if the present state of things goes on, with\nthe bog at its present height, and with this terrible rainfall, there\nwill be another shifting of the bog\u2014and then, God help him, and perhaps\nothers too! I told him of the danger, and explained it to him\u2014but he\nonly laughed at me and called me a fool and a traitor\u2014that I was doing\nit to prevent him getting his treasure\u2014his treasure, forsooth!\u2014and then\nhe went again into those terrible blasphemies\u2014so I came away; but he is\na lost man, and I don\u2019t see how we can stop him.\u201d I said earnestly:\u2014\n\n\u201cDick, there\u2019s no danger to them\u2014the Joyces\u2014is there?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d he answered, \u201cnot the slightest\u2014their house is on the rock, high\nover the spot, and quite away from any possible danger.\u201d\n\nThen we relapsed into silence, as we each tried to think out a solution.\n\nThat night it rained more heavily than ever. The downfall was almost\ntropical\u2014as it can be on the West Coast\u2014and the rain on the iron roof\nof the stable behind the hotel sounded like thunder; it was the last\nthing in my ears before I went to sleep.\n\nThat night again I kept dreaming\u2014dreaming in the same nightmare fashion\nas before. But although the working of my imagination centred round\nKnockcalltecrore and all it contained, and although I suffered dismal\ntortures from the hideous dreams of ruin and disaster which afflicted\nme, I did not on this occasion arouse the household. In the morning\nwhen we met, Dick looked at my pale face and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cDreaming again, Art! Well, please God, it\u2019s all nearly over now. One\nmore day, and Norah will be away from Knockcalltecrore.\u201d\n\nThe thought gave me much relief. The next morning\u2014on Thursday, 28th of\nOctober\u2014we should be on our way to Galway _en route_ for London, whilst\nDick would receive on my behalf possession of the property which I had\npurchased from Murdock. Indeed his tenure ended at noon this very day;\nbut we thought it wiser to postpone taking possession until after Norah\nhad left. Although Norah\u2019s departure meant a long absence from the\nwoman I loved, I could not regret it, for it was after all but a long\nroad to the end I wished for. The two years would soon be over. And\nthen!\u2014and then life would begin in real earnest, and along its paths of\nsorrow as of joy Norah and I should walk with equal steps.\n\nAlas! for dreaming! The dreams of the daylight are often more delusive\nthan even those born of the glamour of moonlight or starlight, or of\nthe pitchy darkness of the night!\n\nIt had been arranged that we were not on this day to go over to\nKnockcalltecrore, as Norah and her father wanted the day together.\nMiss Joyce, Norah\u2019s aunt, who usually had lived with them, was coming\nback to look after the house. So after breakfast Dick and I smoked and\nlounged about, and went over some business matters, and we arranged\nmany things to be done during my absence. The rain still continued to\npour down in a perfect deluge\u2014the roadway outside the hotel was running\nlike a river, and the wind swept the rain-clouds so that the drops\nstruck like hail. Every now and again, as the gusts gathered in force,\nthe rain seemed to drive past like a sheet of water; and looking out of\nthe window, we could see dripping men and women trying to make headway\nagainst the storm. Dick said to me:\u2014\n\n\u201cIf this rain holds on much longer it will be a bad job for Murdock.\nThere is every fear that if the bog should break under the flooding\nhe will suffer at once. What an obstinate fool he is\u2014he won\u2019t take\nany warning! I almost feel like a criminal in letting him go to his\ndeath\u2014ruffian though he is; and yet what can one do? We are all\npowerless if anything should happen.\u201d After this we were silent. I\nspoke the next:\u2014\n\n\u201cTell me, Dick, is there any earthly possibility of any harm coming to\nJoyce\u2019s house in case the bog should shift again? Is it quite certain\nthat they are all safe?\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite certain, old fellow. You may set your mind at rest on that\nscore. In so far as the bog is concerned, she and her father are in\nno danger. The only way they could run any risk of danger would be by\ntheir going to Murdock\u2019s house, or by being by chance lower down on the\nhill, and I do not think that such a thing is likely to happen.\u201d\n\nThis set my mind more at ease, and while Dick sat down to write some\nletters I continued to look at the rain.\n\nBy-and-by I went down to the tap-room, where there were always a lot\nof peasants, whose quaint speech amused and interested me. When I came\nin one of them, whom I recognized as one of our navvies at Knocknacar,\nwas telling something, for the others all stood round him. Andy was the\nfirst to see me, and said as I entered:\u2014\n\n\u201cYe\u2019ll have to go over it all agin, Mike. Here\u2019s his \u2019an\u2019r, that is\njust death on to bogs\u2014an\u2019 the like,\u201d he added, looking at me slyly.\n\n\u201cWhat is it?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u201cOh, not much, yer \u2019an\u2019r, except that the bog up at Knocknacar has run\naway intirely. Whin the wather rose in it, the big cuttin\u2019 we med tuk\nit all out, like butthermilk out iv a jug. Begor! there never was seen\nsuch a flittin\u2019 since the wurrld begun. An\u2019 more betoken, the quare\npart iv it is that it hasn\u2019t left the bit iv a hole behind it at all,\nbut it\u2019s all mud an\u2019 wather at the prisint minit.\u201d\n\nI knew this would interest Dick exceedingly, so I went for him. When\nhe heard it he got quite excited, and insisted that we should go off\nto Knocknacar at once. Accordingly Andy was summoned, the mare was\nharnessed, and with what protection we could get in the way of wraps,\nwe went off to Knocknacar through the rain storm.\n\nAs we went along we got some idea of the damage done\u2014and being done\u2014by\nthe wonderful rainfall. Not only the road was like a river, and the\nmountain streams were roaring torrents, but in places the road was\nflooded to such a dangerous depth that we dared not have attempted the\npassage only that, through our repeated journeys, we all knew the road\nso well.\n\nHowever, we got at last to Knocknacar, and there found that the\nstatement we heard was quite true. The bog had been flooded to such a\ndegree that it had burst out through the cutting which we had made, and\nhad poured in a great stream over all the sloping moorland on which we\nhad opened it. The brown bog and black mud lying all over the stony\nspace looked like one of the lava streams which mark the northern side\nof Vesuvius. Dick went most carefully all over the ground wherever\nwe could venture, and took a number of notes. Indeed, the day was\nbeginning to draw in, when, dripping and chilled, we prepared for our\nreturn journey through the rain. Andy had not been wasting his time in\nthe sheebeen, and was in one of his most jocular humours; and when we\ntoo were fortified with steaming hot punch we were able to listen to\nhis fun without wanting to kill him.\n\nOn the journey back, Dick\u2014when Andy allowed him speech\u2014explained to me\nthe various phenomena which we had noticed. When we got back to the\nhotel it was night. Had the weather been fine we might have expected\na couple more hours of twilight; but with the mass of driving clouds\noverhead, and the steady downpour of rain, and the fierce rush of the\nwind, there was left to us not the slightest suggestion of day.\n\nWe went to bed early, for I had to rise by daylight for our journey on\nthe morrow. After lying awake for some time listening to the roar of\nthe storm and the dash of the rain, and wondering if it were to go on\nfor ever, I sank into a troubled sleep.\n\nIt seemed to me that all the nightmares which had individually\nafflicted me during the last week returned to assail me collectively\non the present occasion. I was a sort of Mazeppa in the world of\ndreams. Again and again the fatal hill and all its mystic and terrible\nassociations haunted me!\u2014Again the snakes writhed around and took\nterrible forms! Again she I loved was in peril! Again Murdock seemed to\narise in new forms of terror and wickedness! Again the lost treasure\nwas sought under terrible conditions; and once again I seemed to sit\non the table-rock with Norah, and to see the whole mountain rush down\non us in a dread avalanche, and turn to myriad snakes as it came! And\nagain Norah seemed to call to me, \u201cHelp! help! Arthur! Save me! Save\nme!\u201d And again, as was most natural, I found myself awake on the floor\nof my room\u2014though this time I did not scream\u2014wet and quivering with\nsome nameless terror, and with Norah\u2019s despairing cry in my ears.\n\nBut even in the first instant of my awakening I had taken a resolution\nwhich forthwith I proceeded to carry into effect. These terrible\ndreams\u2014whencesoever they came\u2014must not have come in vain! The grim\nwarning must not be despised! Norah was in danger, and I must go to her\nat all hazards!\n\nI threw on my clothes and went and woke Dick. When I told him my\nintention he jumped up at once and began to dress, whilst I ran\ndownstairs and found Andy, and set him to get out the car at once.\n\n\u201cIs it goin\u2019 out agin in the shtorm ye are? Begor! ye\u2019d not go widout\nsome rayson, an\u2019 I\u2019m not the bhoy to be behind whin ye want me. I\u2019ll be\nready, yer \u2019an\u2019r, in two skips iv a dead salmon!\u201d and Andy proceeded\nto make, or rather complete, his toilet, and hurried out to the stable\nto get the car ready. In the mean time Dick had got two lanterns and a\nflask, and showed them to me.\n\n\u201cWe may as well have them with us. We do not know what we may want in\nthis storm.\u201d\n\nIt was now past one o\u2019clock, and the night was pitchy dark. The rain\nstill fell, and high overhead we could hear the ceaseless rushing of\nthe wind. It was a lucky thing that both Andy and the mare knew the\nroad thoroughly, for otherwise we never could have got on that night.\nAs it was, we had to go much more slowly than we had ever gone before.\n\nI was in a perfect fever. Every second\u2019s delay seemed to me like an\nhour. I feared\u2014nay more, I had a deep conviction\u2014that some dreadful\nthing was happening, and I had over me a terrible dread that we should\narrive too late.\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER XVII.\n\n                           THE CATASTROPHE.\n\n\nAs we drew closer to the mountain, and recognized our whereabouts by\nthe various landmarks, my dread seemed to grow. The night was now well\non, and there were signs of the storm abating; occasionally the wind\nwould fall off a little, and the rain beat with less dreadful violence.\nIn such moments some kind of light would be seen in the sky\u2014or, to\nspeak more correctly, the darkness would be less complete\u2014and then the\nnew squall which followed would seem by contrast with the calm to smite\nus with renewed violence. In one of these lulls we saw for an instant\nthe mountain rise before us, its bold outline being shown darkly\nagainst a sky less black. But the vision was swept away an instant\nafter by a squall and a cloud of blinding rain, leaving only a dreadful\nmemory of some field for grim disaster. Then we went on our way even\nmore hopelessly; for earth and sky, which in that brief instant we had\nbeen able to distinguish, were now hidden under one unutterable pall of\ngloom.\n\nOn we went slowly. There was now in the air a thunderous feeling, and\nwe expected each moment to be startled by the lightning\u2019s flash or the\nroar of Heaven\u2019s artillery. Masses of mist or sea fog now began to be\nborne landward by the passing squalls. In the time that elapsed between\nthat one momentary glimpse of Knockcalltecrore and our arrival at the\nfoot of the boreen a whole lifetime seemed to me to have elapsed, and\nin my thoughts and harrowing anxieties I recalled\u2014as drowning men are\nsaid to do before death\u2014every moment, every experience since I had\nfirst come within sight of the western sea. The blackness of my fears\nseemed only a carrying inward of the surrounding darkness, which was\nmade more pronounced by the flickering of our lanterns, and more dread\nby the sounds of the tempest with which it was laden.\n\nWhen we stopped in the boreen, Dick and I hurried up the hill, whilst\nAndy, with whom we left one of the lanterns, drew the horse under\nthe comparative shelter of the wind-swept alders, which lined the\nentrance to the lane. He wanted a short rest before proceeding to Mrs.\nKelligan\u2019s, where he was to stop the remainder of the night, so as to\nbe able to come for us in the morning.\n\nAs we came near Murdock\u2019s cottage Dick pressed my arm.\n\n\u201cLook!\u201d he called to me, putting his mouth to my ear so that I could\nhear him, for the storm swept the hill fiercely here, and a special\ncurrent of wind came whirling up through the Shleenanaher. \u201cLook! he\nis up even at this hour. There must be some villainy afloat!\u201d\n\nWhen we got up a little farther he called to me again in the same way.\n\n\u201cThe nearest point of the bog is here; let us look at it.\u201d We diverged\nto the left, and in a few minutes were down at the edge of the bog.\n\nIt seemed to us to be different from what it had been. It was raised\nconsiderably above its normal height, and seemed quivering all over in\na very strange way. Dick said to me very gravely:\u2014\n\n\u201cWe are just in time. There\u2019s something going to happen here.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us hurry to Joyce\u2019s,\u201d I said, \u201cand see if all is safe there.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe should warn them first at Murdock\u2019s,\u201d he said. \u201cThere may not be a\nmoment to lose.\u201d We hurried back to the boreen and ran on to Murdock\u2019s,\nopened the gate, and ran up the path. We knocked at the door, but there\nwas no answer. We knocked more loudly still, but there came no reply.\n\n\u201cWe had better make certain,\u201d said Dick, and I could hear him more\neasily now, for we were in the shelter of the porch. We opened the\ndoor, which was only on the latch, and went in. In the kitchen a candle\nwas burning, and the fire on the hearth was blazing, so that it could\nnot have been long since the inmates had left. Dick wrote a line of\nwarning in his pocket-book, tore out the leaf, and placed it on the\ntable where it could not fail to be seen by anyone entering the room.\nWe then hurried out, and up the lane to Joyce\u2019s.\n\nAs we drew near we were surprised to find a light in Joyce\u2019s window\nalso. I got to the windward side of Dick, and shouted to him:\u2014\n\n\u201cA light here also! there must be something strange going on.\u201d We\nhurried as fast as we could up to the house. As we drew close the door\nwas opened, and through a momentary lull we heard the voice of Miss\nJoyce, Norah\u2019s aunt:\u2014\n\n\u201cIs that you, Norah?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d I answered.\n\n\u201cOh! is it you, Mr. Arthur? Thank God ye\u2019ve come! I\u2019m in such terror\nabout Phelim an\u2019 Norah. They\u2019re both out in the shtorm, an\u2019 I\u2019m nigh\ndisthracted about them.\u201d\n\nBy this time we were in the house, and could hear each other speak,\nalthough not too well even here, for again the whole force of the gale\nstruck the front of the house, and the noise was great.\n\n\u201cWhere is Norah? Is she not here?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no! God help us! Wirrastru! wirrastru!\u201d The poor woman was in such\na state of agitation and abject terror that it was with some difficulty\nwe could learn from her enough to understand what had occurred. The\nsuspense of trying to get her to speak intelligibly was agonizing, for\nnow every moment was precious; but we could not do anything or make any\neffort whatever until we had learned all that had occurred. At last,\nhowever, it was conveyed to us that early in the evening Joyce had\ngone out to look after the cattle, and had not since returned. Late at\nnight old Moynahan had come to the door half drunk, and had hiccoughed\na message that Joyce had met with an accident and was then in Murdock\u2019s\nhouse. He wanted Norah to go to him there, but Norah only was to go\nand no one else. She had at once suspected that it was some trap of\nMurdock\u2019s for some evil purpose, but still she thought it better to go,\nand accordingly called to Hector, the mastiff, to come with her, she\nremarking to her aunt \u201cI am safe with him, at any rate.\u201d But Hector\ndid not come. He had been restless, and groaning for an hour before,\nand now on looking for him they had found him dead. This helped to\nconfirm Norah\u2019s suspicions, and the two poor women were in an agony of\ndoubt as to what they should do. Whilst they were discussing the matter\nMoynahan had returned\u2014this time even drunker than before\u2014and repeated\nhis message, but with evident reluctance. Norah had accordingly set to\nwork to cross-examine him, and after a while he admitted that Joyce was\nnot in Murdock\u2019s house at all\u2014that he had been sent with the message\nand told when he had delivered it to go away to mother Kelligan\u2019s and\nnot to ever tell anything whatever of the night\u2019s proceedings\u2014no matter\nwhat might happen or what might be said. When he had admitted this\nmuch he had been so overcome with fright at what he had done that he\nbegan to cry and moan, and say that Murdock would kill him for telling\non him. Norah had told him he could remain in the cottage where he\nwas, if he would tell her where her father was, so that she could go\nto look for him; but that he had sworn most solemnly that he did not\nknow, but that Murdock knew, for he told him that there would be no\nchance of seeing him at his own house for hours yet that night. This\nhad determined Norah that she would go out herself, although the storm\nwas raging wildly, to look for her father. Moynahan, however, would not\nstay in the cottage, as he said he would be afraid to, unless Joyce\nhimself were there to protect him; for if there were no one but women\nin the house Murdock would come and murder him and throw his body into\nthe bog, as he had often threatened. So Moynahan had gone out into the\nnight by himself, and Norah had shortly after gone out also, and from\nthat moment she\u2014Miss Joyce\u2014had not set eyes on her, and feared that\nsome harm had happened.\n\nThis the poor soul told us in such an agony of dread and grief that\nit was pitiful to hear her, and we could not but forgive the terrible\ndelay. I was myself in deadly fear, for every kind of harrowing\npossibility rose before me as the tale was told. It was quite evident\nthat Murdock was bent on some desperate scheme of evil; he either\nintended to murder Norah or to compromise her in some terrible way. I\nwas almost afraid to think of the subject. It was plain to me that by\nthis means he hoped, not only to gratify his revenge, but to get some\nlever to use against us, one and all, so as to secure his efforts in\nsearching for the treasure. In my rage against the cowardly hound,\nI almost lost sight of the need of thankfulness for one great peril\navoided.\n\nHowever, there was no time at present for further thought\u2014action,\nprompt and decisive, was vitally necessary. Joyce was absent\u2014we had no\nclue to where he could be. Norah was alone on the mountain, and with\nthe possibility of Murdock assailing her, for he, too, was abroad\u2014as we\nknew from the fact of his being away from his house.\n\nWe lost not a moment, but went out again into the storm. We did not,\nhowever, take the lantern with us, as we found by experience that its\noccasional light was in the long run an evil, as we could not by its\nlight see any distance, and the grey of the coming dawn was beginning\nto show through the abating storm, with a faint indication that before\nlong we should have some light.\n\nWe went down the hill westward until we came near the bog, for we had\ndetermined to make a circuit of it as our first piece of exploration,\nsince we thought that here lay the most imminent danger. Then we\nseparated, Dick following the line of the bog downward whilst I went\nnorth, intending to cross at the top and proceed down the farther side.\nWe had agreed on a signal, if such could be heard through the storm,\nchoosing the Australian \u201ccoo-ee,\u201d which is the best sound to travel\nknown.\n\nI hurried along as fast as I dared, for I was occasionally in utter\ndarkness. Although the morning was coming with promise of light, the\nsea-wind swept inland masses of swiftly-driving mist, which, whilst\nthey encompassed me, made movement not only difficult and dangerous,\nbut at times almost impossible. The electric feeling in the air had\nbecome intensified, and each moment I expected the thunderstorm to\nburst.\n\nEvery little while I called, \u201cNorah! Norah!\u201d in the vain hope that,\nwhilst returning from her search for her father, she might come within\nthe sound of my voice. But no answering sound came back to me, except\nthe fierce roar of the storm laden with the wild dash of the breakers\nhurled against the cliffs and the rocks below.\n\nEven then, so strangely does the mind work, the words of the old song,\n\u201cThe Pilgrim of Love,\u201d came mechanically to my memory, as though I had\ncalled \u201cOrinthia\u201d instead of \u201cNorah:\u201d\u2014\n\n    \u201cTill with \u2018Orinthia\u2019 all the rocks resound.\u201d\n\nOn, on I went, following the line of the bog, till I had reached the\nnorthern point, where the ground rose and began to become solid. I\nfound the bog here so swollen with rain that I had to make a long\ndetour so as to get round to the western side. High up on the hill\nthere was, I knew, a rough shelter for the cattle; and as it struck\nme that Joyce might have gone here to look after his stock, and that\nNorah had gone hither to search for him, I ran up to it. The cattle\nwere there, huddled together in a solid mass behind the sheltering wall\nof sods and stones. I cried out as loudly as I could from the windward\nside, so that my voice would carry:\u2014\n\n\u201cNorah! Norah! Joyce! Joyce! Are you there? Is anyone there?\u201d\n\nThere was a stir amongst the cattle and one or two low \u201cmoos\u201d as they\nheard the human voice, but no sound from either of those I sought; so I\nran down again to the further side of the bog. I knew now that neither\nNorah nor her father could be on this point of the hill, or they would\nhave heard my voice; and as the storm came from the west, I made a\nzigzag line going east to west as I followed down the bog so that I\nmight have a chance of being heard\u2014should there be anyone to hear. When\nI got near to the entrance to the Cliff Fields I shouted as loudly as\nI could, \u201cNorah! Norah!\u201d but the wind took my voice away as it would\nsweep thistles down, and it was as though I made the effort but no\nvoice came, and I felt awfully alone in the midst of a thick pall of\nmist.\n\nOn, on I went, following the line of the bog. Lower down there was some\nshelter from the storm, for the great ridge of rocks here rose between\nme and the sea, and I felt that my voice could be heard further off.\nI was sick at heart and chilled with despair, till I felt as if the\nchill of my soul had extended even to my blood; but on I went with set\npurpose, the true doggedness of despair.\n\nAs I went I thought I heard a cry through the mist\u2014Norah\u2019s voice! It\nwas but an instant, and I could not be sure whether my ears indeed\nheard, or if the anguish of my heart had created the phantom of a\nvoice to deceive me. However, be it what it might, it awoke me like\na clarion; my heart leaped and the blood surged in my brain till I\nalmost became dizzy. I listened to try if I could distinguish from what\ndirection the voice had come.\n\nI waited in agony. Each second seemed a century, and my heart beat like\na trip-hammer. Then again I heard the sound\u2014faint, but still clear\nenough to hear. I shouted with all my power, but once again the roar of\nthe wind overpowered me; however, I ran on towards the voice.\n\nThere was a sudden lull in the wind\u2014a blaze of lightning lit up the\nwhole scene, and, some fifty yards before me, I saw two figures\nstruggling at the edge of the rocks. In that welcome glance,\ninfinitesimal though it was, I recognized the red petticoat which,\nin that place and at that time, could be none other than Norah\u2019s. I\nshouted as I leapt forward; but just then the thunder broke overhead,\nand in the mighty and prolonged roll every other sound faded into\nnothingness, as though the thunderclap had come on a primeval\nstillness. As I drew near to where I had seen the figures, the thunder\nrolled away, and through its vanishing sound I heard distinctly Norah\u2019s\nvoice:\u2014\n\n\u201cHelp! Help! Arthur! Father! Help! Help!\u201d Even in that wild moment my\nheart leaped, that of all names, she called on mine the first\u2014Whatever\nmen may say, Love and Jealousy are near kinsmen!\n\nI shouted in return, as I ran, but the wind took my voice away\u2014and then\nI heard her voice again, but fainter than before:\u2014\n\n\u201cHelp! Arthur\u2014Father! Is there no one to help me now!\u201d And then the\nlightning flashed again, and in the long jagged flash we saw each\nother, and I heard her glad cry before the thunderclap drowned all\nelse. I had seen that her assailant was Murdock, and I rushed at him,\nbut he had seen me too, and before I could lay hands on him he had let\nher go, and with a mighty oath which the roll of the thunder drowned,\nhe struck her to the earth and ran.\n\nI raised my poor darling, and, carrying her a little distance, placed\nher on the edge of the ridge of rocks beside us, for by the light in\nthe sky, which grew paler each second, I saw that a stream of water\nrising from the bog, was flowing towards us. She was unconscious\u2014so I\nran to the stream and dipped my hat full of water to bring to revive\nher. Then I remembered the signal of finding her, and putting my hands\nto my lips I sounded the \u201cCoo-ee,\u201d once, twice. As I stood I could\nsee Murdock running to his house, for every instant it seemed to grow\nlighter, and the mist to disperse. The thunder had swept away the\nrain-clouds, and let in the light of the coming dawn.\n\nBut even as I stood there\u2014and I had not delayed an unnecessary\nsecond\u2014the ground under me seemed to be giving way. There was a strange\nshudder or shiver below me, and my feet began to sink. With a wild\ncry\u2014for I felt that the fatal moment had come\u2014that the bog was moving,\nand had caught me in its toils, I threw myself forward towards the\nrock. My cry seemed to arouse Norah like the call of a trumpet. She\nleaped to her feet, and in an instant seemed to realize my danger, and\nrushed towards me. When I saw her coming I shouted to her:\u2014\n\n\u201cKeep back! keep back.\u201d But she did not pause an instant, and the only\nwords she said were:\u2014\n\n\u201cI am coming, Arthur! I am coming!\u201d\n\nHalf way between us there was a flat-topped piece of rock, which raised\nits head out of the surrounding bog. As she struggled towards it, her\nfeet began to sink, and a new terror for her was added to my own. But\nshe did not falter a moment, and, as her lighter weight was in her\nfavour, with a great effort she gained it. In the meantime I struggled\nforward. There was between me and the rock a clump of furze bushes; on\nthese I threw myself, and for a second or two they supported me. Then\neven these began to sink with me, for faster and faster, with each\nsucceeding second, the earth seemed to liquify and melt away.\n\nUp to now I had never realized the fear, or even the possibility, of\ndeath to myself\u2014hitherto all my fears had been for Norah. But now came\nto me the bitter pang which must be for each of the children of men on\nwhom Death has laid his icy hand. That this dread moment had come there\nwas no doubt; nothing short of a miracle could save me!\n\nNo language could describe the awful sensation of that melting away of\nthe solid earth\u2014the most dreadful nightmare would be almost a pleasant\nmemory compared with it.\n\nI was now only a few feet from the rock whose very touch meant safety\nto me\u2014but it was just beyond my reach! I was sinking to my doom!\u2014I\ncould see the horror in Norah\u2019s eyes, as she gained the rock and\nstruggled to her feet.\n\nBut even Norah\u2019s love could not help me\u2014I was beyond the reach of her\narms, and she no more than I could keep a foothold on the liquifying\nearth. Oh! that she had a rope and I might be saved! Alas! she had\nnone\u2014even the shawl that might have aided me had fallen off in her\nstruggle with Murdock.\n\nBut Norah had, with her woman\u2019s quick instinct, seen a way to help me.\nIn an instant she had had torn off her red petticoat of heavy homespun\ncloth and thrown one end to me. I clutched and caught it with a\ndespairing grasp\u2014for by this time only my head and hands remained above\nthe surface.\n\n\u201cNow, O God! for strength!\u201d was the earnest prayer of her heart, and my\nthought was:\u2014\n\n\u201cNow, for the strong hands that that other had despised!\u201d\n\nNorah threw herself backward with her feet against a projecting piece\nof the rock, and I felt that if we could both hold out long enough I\nwas saved.\n\nLittle by little I gained! I drew closer and closer to the rock!\nCloser! closer still! till with one hand I grasped the rock itself,\nand hung on, breathless, in blind desperation. I was only just able to\nsupport myself, for there was a strange dragging power in the viscous\nmass that held me, and greatly taxed my strength, already exhausted\nin the terrible struggle for life. The bog was beginning to move! But\nNorah bent forward, kneeling on the rock, and grasped my coat collar in\nher strong hands. Love and despair lent her additional strength, and\nwith one last great effort she pulled me upward\u2014and in an instant more\nI lay on the rock safe and in her arms.\n\nDuring this time, short as it was, the morning had advanced, and the\ncold grey mysterious light disclosed the whole slope before us dim in\nthe shadow of the hill. Opposite to us, across the bog, we saw Joyce\nand Dick watching us, and between the gusts of wind we faintly heard\ntheir shouts.\n\nTo our right, far down the hill, the Shleenanaher stood out boldly,\nits warder rocks struck by the grey light falling over the hill-top.\nNearer to us, and something in the same direction, Murdock\u2019s house rose\na black mass in the centre of the hollow.\n\nBut as we looked around us, thankful for our safety, we grasped\neach other more closely, and a low cry of fear emphasized Norah\u2019s\nshudder\u2014for a terrible thing began to happen.\n\nThe whole surface of the bog, as far as we could see it in the dim\nlight, became wrinkled, and then began to move in little eddies, such\nas one sees in a swollen river. It seemed to rise and rise till it grew\nalmost level with where we were, and instinctively we rose to our feet\nand stood there awestruck, Norah clinging to me, and with our arms\nround each other.\n\nThe shuddering surface of the bog began to extend on every side to even\nthe solid ground which curbed it, and with relief we saw that Dick and\nJoyce stood high up on a rock. All things on its surface seemed to\nmelt away and disappear, as though swallowed up. This silent change or\ndemoralization spread down in the direction of Murdock\u2019s house\u2014but when\nit got to the edge of the hollow in which the house stood, it seemed to\nmove as swiftly forward as water leaps down a cataract.\n\nInstinctively we both shouted a warning to Murdock\u2014he, too, villain\nthough he was, had a life to lose. He had evidently felt some kind of\nshock or change, for he came rushing out of the house full of terror.\nFor an instant he seemed paralyzed with fright as he saw what was\nhappening. And it was little wonder! for in that instant the whole\nhouse began to sink into the earth\u2014to sink as a ship founders in a\nstormy sea, but without the violence and turmoil that marks such a\ncatastrophe. There was something more terrible\u2014more deadly in that\nsilent, causeless destruction than in the devastation of the earthquake\nor the hurricane.\n\nThe wind had now dropped away; the morning light struck full over the\nhill, and we could see clearly. The sound of the waves dashing on the\nrocks below, and the booming of the distant breakers filled the air\u2014but\nthrough it came another sound, the like of which I had never heard,\nand the like of which I hope, in God\u2019s providence, I shall never hear\nagain\u2014a long, low gurgle, with something of a sucking sound; something\nterrible\u2014resistless\u2014and with a sort of hiss in it, as of seething\nwaters striving to be free.\n\nThen the convulsion of the bog grew greater; it almost seemed as if\nsome monstrous living thing was deep under the surface and writhing to\nescape.\n\nBy this time Murdock\u2019s house had sunk almost level with the bog. He had\nclimbed on the thatched roof, and stood there looking towards us, and\nstretching forth his hands as though in supplication for help. For a\nwhile the superior size and buoyancy of the roof sustained it, but then\nit too began slowly to sink. Murdock knelt, and clasped his hands in a\nfrenzy of prayer.\n\nAnd then came a mighty roar and a gathering rush. The side of the hill\nbelow us seemed to burst. Murdock threw up his arms\u2014we heard his wild\ncry as the roof of the house, and he with it, was in an instant sucked\nbelow the surface of the heaving mass.\n\nThen came the end of the terrible convulsion. With a rushing sound, and\nthe noise of a thousand waters falling, the whole bog swept, in waves\nof gathering size, and with a hideous writhing, down the mountain-side\nto the entrance of the Shleenanaher\u2014struck the portals with a sound\nlike thunder, and piled up to a vast height. And then the millions\nof tons of slime and ooze, and bog and earth, and broken rock swept\nthrough the Pass into the sea.\n\nNorah and I knelt down, hand-in-hand, and with full hearts thanked God\nfor having saved us from so terrible a doom.\n\nThe waves of the torrent rushing by us at first came almost level with\nus; but the stream diminished so quickly, that in an incredibly short\ntime we found ourselves perched on the top of a high jutting rock,\nstanding sharply up from the sloping sides of a deep ravine, where but\na few minutes before the bog had been. Carefully we climbed down, and\nsought a more secure place on the base of the ridge of rocks behind\nus. The deep ravine lay below us, down whose sides began to rattle\nominously, here and there, masses of earth and stones deprived of their\nsupport below where the torrent had scoured their base.\n\nLighter and lighter grew the sky over the mountain, till at last one\nred ray shot up like a crack in the vault of heaven, and a great light\nseemed to smite the rocks that glistened in their coat of wet. Across\nthe ravine we saw Joyce and Dick beginning to descend, so as to come\nover to us. This aroused us, and we shouted to them to keep back, and\nwaved our arms to them in signal; for we feared that some landslip\nor some new outpouring of the bog might sweep them away, or that the\nbottom of the ravine might be still only treacherous slime. They saw\nour gesticulations, if they did not hear our voices, and held back.\nThen we pointed up the ravine, and signalled them that we would move up\nthe edge of the rocks. This we proceeded to do, and they followed on\nthe other side, watching us intently. Our progress was slow, for the\nrocks were steep and difficult, and we had to keep eternally climbing\nup and descending the serrated edges, where the strata lapped over each\nother; and besides we were chilled and numbed with cold.\n\nAt last, however, we passed the corner where was the path down to the\nCliff Fields, and turned eastwards up the hill. Then in a little while\nwe got well above the ravine, which here grew shallower, and could\nwalk on more level ground. Here we saw that the ravine ended in a deep\ncleft, whence issued a stream of water. And then we saw hurrying up\nover the top of the cleft Joyce and Dick.\n\nUp to now, Norah and I had hardly spoken a word. Our hearts were too\nfull for speech; and, indeed, we understood each other, and could\ninterpret our thoughts by a subtler language than that formulated by\nman.\n\nIn another minute Norah was clasped in her father\u2019s arms. He held her\nclose, and kissed her, and cried over her; whilst Dick wrung my hand\nhard. Then Joyce left his daughter, and came and flung his arms round\nme, and thanked God that I had escaped; whilst Norah went up to Dick,\nand put her arms round him, and kissed him as a sister might.\n\nWe all went back together as fast as we could; and the sun that rose\nthat morning rose on no happier group\u2014despite the terror and the\ntrouble of the night. Norah walked between her father and me, holding\nus both tightly, and Dick walked on my other side with his arm in\nmine. As we came within sight of the house, we met Miss Joyce\u2014her face\ngrey with anxiety. She rushed towards us, and flung her arms round\nNorah, and the two women rocked each other in their arms; and then we\nall kissed her\u2014even Dick, to her surprise. His kiss was the last, and\nit seemed to pull her together; for she perked up, and put her cap\nstraight\u2014a thing which she had not done for the rest of us. Then she\nwalked beside us, holding her brother\u2019s hand.\n\nWe all talked at once and told the story over and over again of the\ndeadly peril I had been in, and how Norah had saved my life; and here\nthe brave girl\u2019s fortitude gave way. She seemed to realize all at once\nthe terror and the danger of the long night, and suddenly her lips grew\nwhite, and she would have sunk down to the ground only that I had seen\nher faint coming and had caught her and held her tight. Her dear head\nfell over on my shoulder, but her hands never lost their grasp of my\narm.\n\nWe carried her down toward the house as quickly as we could; but before\nwe had got to the door she had recovered from her swoon, and her first\nlook when her eyes opened was for me, and the first word she said was\u2014\n\n\u201cArthur! Is he safe?\u201d\n\nAnd then I laid her in the old arm-chair by the hearth-place, and took\nher cold hands in mine, and kissed them and cried over them\u2014which\nI hoped vainly that no one saw. Then Miss Joyce, like a true\nhousekeeper, stirred herself, and the flames roared up the chimney, and\nthe slumbering kettle on the chain over the fire woke and sang again;\nand it seemed like magic, for all at once we were all sipping hot\nwhiskey punch, and beginning to feel the good effects of it.\n\nThen Miss Joyce hurried away Norah to change her clothes, and Dick\nand I went with Joyce, and we all rigged ourselves out with whatever\ncame to hand; and then we came back to the kitchen and laughed at each\nother\u2019s appearance. We found Miss Joyce already making preparations for\nbreakfast, and succeeding pretty well, too.\n\nAnd then Norah joined us, but she was not the least grotesque; she\nseemed as though she had just stepped out of a band-box\u2014she seemed so\ntrim and neat, with her grey jacket and her Sunday red petticoat. Her\nblack hair was coiled in one glorious roll round her noble head, and\nthere was but one thing which I did not like, and which sent a pang\nthrough my heart\u2014a blue and swollen bruise on her ivory forehead where\nMurdock had struck her that dastard blow! She saw my look and her eyes\nfell, and when I went to her and kissed the wound and whispered to her\nhow it pained me, she looked up at me and whispered so that none of the\nothers could hear:\u2014\n\n\u201cHush! hush! Poor soul, he has paid a terrible penalty; let us forget\nas we forgive!\u201d And then I took her hands in mine and stooped to kiss\nthem, whilst the others all smiled happily as they looked on; but she\ntried to draw them away, and a bright blush dyed her cheeks as she\nmurmured to me:\u2014\n\n\u201cNo! no, Arthur! Arthur dear, not now! I only did what anyone would do\nfor you!\u201d and the tears rushed to her eyes.\n\n\u201cI must! Norah,\u201d said I, \u201cI must! for I owe these brave hands my life!\u201d\nand I kissed them and she made no more resistance. Her father\u2019s voice\nand words sounded very true as he said:-\n\n\u201cNay, daughter, it is right that he should kiss those hands this\nblessed mornin\u2019, for they took a true man out of the darkness of the\ngrave!\u201d\n\nAnd then my noble old Dick came over too, and he raised those dear\nhands reverently to his lips, and said very softly:\u2014\n\n\u201cFor he is dear to us all!\u201d\n\nBy this time Miss Joyce had breakfast well under way, and one and all\nwe thought that it was time we should let the brightness of the day and\nthe lightness of our hearts have a turn; and Joyce said heartily:\u2014\n\n\u201cCome now! Come now! Let us sit down to breakfast; but first let us\ngive thanks to Almighty God that has been so good to us, and let us\nforgive that poor wretch that met such a horrible death. Rest to his\nsoul!\u201d\n\nWe were all silent for a little bit, for the great gladness of our\nhearts, that came through the terrible remembrance thus brought home to\nus, was too deep for words. Norah and I sat hand in hand, and between\nus was but one heart, and one soul, and one thought\u2014and all were\nfilled with gratitude.\n\nWhen once we had begun breakfast in earnest a miniature babel broke\nout. We had each something to tell and much to hear; and for the latter\nreason we tacitly arranged, after the first outbreak, that each should\nspeak in turn.\n\nMiss Joyce told us of the terrible anxiety she had been in ever since\nshe had seen us depart, and how every sound, great or small\u2014even the\ngusts of wind that howled down the chimney and made the casements\nrattle\u2014had made her heart jump into her mouth, and brought her out\nto the door to see if we or any of us were coming. Then Dick told us\nhow, on proceeding down the eastern side of the bog, he had diverged\nso as to look in at Murdock\u2019s house to see if he were there, but had\nfound only old Moynahan lying on the floor in a state of speechless\ndrunkenness, and so wet that the water running from his clothes had\nformed a pool of water on the floor. He had evidently only lately\nreturned from wandering on the hillside. Then as he was about to go on\nhis way he had heard, as he thought, a noise lower down the hill, and\non going towards it had met Joyce carrying a sheep which had its leg\nbroken, and which he told him had been blown off a steep rock on the\nsouth side of the hill. Then they two had kept together after Dick had\ntold him of our search for Norah, until we had seen them in the coming\ngrey of the dawn. Next Joyce took up the running, and told us how he\nhad been working on the top of the mountain when he saw the signs of\nthe storm coming so fast that he thought it would be well to look after\nthe sheep and cattle, and see them in some kind of shelter before the\nmorning. He had driven all the cattle which were up high on the hill\ninto the shelter where I had found them, and then had gone down the\nsouthern shoulder of the hill, placing all the sheep and cattle in\nplaces of shelter as well as he could, until he had come across the\nwounded one, which he took on his shoulders to bring it home, but which\nhad since been carried away in the bursting of the bog. He finished by\nreminding me jocularly that I owed him something for his night\u2019s work,\nfor the stock was now all mine.\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d said I, \u201cnot for another day. My purchase of your ground and\nstock was only to take effect from after noon of the 28th, and we are\nnow only at the early morning of that day; but at any rate I must thank\nyou for the others,\u201d for I had a number of sheep and cattle which Dick\nhad taken over from the other farmers whose land I had bought.\n\nThen I told over again all that had happened to me. I had to touch on\nthe blow which Norah had received, but I did so as lightly as I could;\nand when I said \u201cGod forgive him!\u201d they all added softly, \u201cAmen!\u201d\n\nThen Dick put in a word about poor old Moynahan:\u2014\n\n\u201cPoor old fellow, he is gone also. He was a drunkard, but he wasn\u2019t all\nbad. Perhaps he saved Norah last night from a terrible danger. His\nlife mayhap may leaven the whole lump of filth and wickedness that went\nthrough the Shleenanaher into the sea last night!\u201d\n\nWe all said \u201cAmen\u201d again, and I have no doubt that we all meant it with\nall our hearts.\n\nThen I told again of Norah\u2019s brave struggle and how, by her courage and\nher strength, she took me out of the very jaws of a terrible death. She\nput one hand before her eyes\u2014for I held the other close in mine\u2014and\nthrough her fingers dropped her welling tears.\n\nWe sat silent for a while, and we felt that it was only right and\nfitting when Joyce came round to her and laid his hand on her head and\nstroked her hair as he said:\u2014\n\n\u201cYe have done well, daughter\u2014ye have done well!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n                            CHAPTER XVIII.\n\n                            THE FULFILMENT.\n\n\nWhen breakfast was finished, Dick proposed that we should go now and\nlook in the full daylight at the effect of the shifting of the bog. I\nsuggested to Norah that perhaps she had better not come as the sight\nmight harrow her feelings, and, besides, that she would want some rest\nand sleep after her long night of terror and effort. She point blank\nrefused to stay behind, and accordingly we all set out, having now had\nour clothes dried and changed, leaving only Miss Joyce to take care of\nthe house.\n\nThe morning was beautiful and fresh after the storm. The deluge of rain\nhad washed everything so clean that already the ground was beginning\nto dry, and as the morning sun shone hotly there was in the air that\nmurmurous hum that follows rain when the air is still. And the air was\nnow still\u2014the storm seemed to have spent itself, and away to the West\nthere was no sign of its track, except that the great Atlantic rollers\nwere heavier and the surf on the rocks rose higher than usual.\n\nWe took our way first down the hill, and then westward to the\nShleenanaher, for we intended, under Dick\u2019s advice, to follow, if\npossible, up to its source the ravine made by the bog. When we got to\nthe entrance of the Pass we were struck with the vast height to which\nthe bog had risen when its mass first struck the portals. A hundred\nfeet overhead there was the great brown mark, and on the sides of the\nPass the same mark was visible, declining quickly as it got seaward and\nthe Pass widened, showing the track of its passage to the sea.\n\nWe climbed the rocks and looked over. Norah clung close to me, and my\narm went round her and held her tight as we peered over and saw where\nthe great waves of the Atlantic struck the rocks three hundred feet\nbelow us, and were for a quarter of a mile away still tinged with the\nbrown slime of the bog.\n\nWe then crossed over the ravine, for the rocky bottom was here laid\nbare, and so we had no reason to fear waterholes or pitfalls. A small\nstream still ran down the ravine and, shallowing out over the shelf\nof rock, spread all across the bottom of the Pass, and fell into the\nsea\u2014something like a miniature of the Staubach Fall, as the water\nwhitened in the falling.\n\nWe then passed up on the west side of the ravine, and saw that the\nstream which ran down the centre was perpetual\u2014a live stream, and not\nmerely the drainage of the ground where the bog had saturated the\nearth. As we passed up the hill we saw where the side of the slope had\nbeen torn bodily away, and the great chasm where once the house had\nbeen which Murdock took from Joyce, and so met his doom. Here there was\na great pool of water\u2014and indeed all throughout the ravine were places\nwhere the stream broadened into deep pools, and again into shallow\npools where it ran over the solid bed of rock. As we passed up, Dick\nhazarded an explanation or a theory:\u2014\n\n\u201cDo you know it seems to me that this ravine or valley was once before\njust as it is now. The stream ran down it and out at the Shleenanaher\njust as it does now. Then by some landslips, or a series of them, or\nby a falling tree, the passage became blocked, and the hollow became\na lake, and its edges grew rank with boggy growth; and then, from one\ncause and another\u2014the falling in of the sides, or the rush of rain\nstorms carrying down the detritus of the mountain, and perpetually\nwashing down particles of clay from the higher levels\u2014the lake became\nchoked up; and then the lighter matter floated to the top, and by\ntime and vegetable growth became combined. And so the whole mass\ngrew cohesive and floated on the water and slime below. This may\nhave occurred more than once. Nay, moreover, sections of the bog may\nhave become segregated or separated by some similarity of condition\naffecting its parts, or by some formation of the ground, as by the\nvalley narrowing in parts between walls of rock so that the passage\ncould be easily choked. And so, solid earth formed to be again softened\nand demoralized by the later mingling with the less solid mass above\nit. It is possible, if not probable, that more than once, in the\ncountless ages that have passed, this ravine has been as we see it\u2014and\nagain as it was but a few hours ago!\u201d\n\nNo one had anything to urge against this theory, and we all proceeded\non our way.\n\nWhen we came to the place where Norah had rescued me, we examined the\nspot most carefully, and again went over the scene and the exploit.\nIt was almost impossible to realize that this great rock, towering\nstraight up from the bottom of the ravine, had, at the fatal hour,\nseemed only like a tussock rising from the bog. When I had climbed to\nthe top I took my knife and cut a cross on the rock, where my brave\ngirl\u2019s feet had rested, to mark the spot.\n\nThen we went on again. Higher up the hill we came to a place, where, on\neach side a rocky promontory, with straight deep walls, jutted into the\nravine, making a sort of narrow gateway or gorge in the valley. Dick\npointed it out:\u2014\n\n\u201cSee! here is one of the very things I spoke of, that made the bog\ninto sections or chambers, or tanks, or whatever we should call them.\nMore than that, here is an instance of the very thing I hinted at\nbefore\u2014that the peculiar formation of the Snake\u2019s Pass runs right\nthrough the hill! If this be so!\u2014but we shall see later on.\u201d\n\nOn the other side was, we agreed, the place where old Moynahan had said\nthe Frenchmen had last been seen. Dick and I were both curious about\nthe matter, and we agreed to cross the ravine and make certain, for,\nif it were the spot, Dick\u2019s mark of the stones in the Y shape would be\na proof. Joyce and Norah both refused to let us go alone, so we all\nwent up a little further, where the sides of the rock sloped on each\nside, and where we could pass safely, as the bed was rock and quite\nsmooth with the stream flowing over it in a thin sheet.\n\nWhen we got to the bottom, Joyce, who was looking round, said suddenly:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhat is that like a square block behind the high rock on the other\nside?\u201d He went over to it, and an instant after, gave a great cry and\nturned and beckoned to us. We all ran over\u2014and there before us, in\na crescent-shaped nook, at the base of the lofty rock, lay a wooden\nchest. The top was intact, but one of the lower corners was broken,\nas though with a fall; and from the broken aperture had fallen out a\nnumber of coins, which we soon found to be of gold.\n\nOn the top of the chest we could make out the letters R. F. in some\nmetal, discoloured and corroded with a century of slime, and on its\nends were great metal handles\u2014to each of which something white was\nattached. We stooped to look at them, and then Norah, with a low cry,\nturned to me, and laid her head on my breast, as though to shut out\nsome horrid sight. Then we investigated the mass that lay there.\n\nAt each end of the chest lay a skeleton\u2014the fleshless fingers grasping\nthe metal handle. We recognized the whole story at a glance, and our\nhats came off.\n\n\u201cPoor fellows!\u201d said Dick, \u201cthey did their duty nobly. They guarded\ntheir treasure to the last.\u201d Then he went on. \u201cSee! they evidently\nstepped into the bog, straight off the rock, and were borne down\nat once, holding tight to the handles of the chest they carried\u2014or\nstay\u201d\u2014and he stooped lower and caught hold of something:\u2014\n\n\u201cSee how the bog can preserve! this leather strap attached to the\nhandles of the chest each had round his shoulder, and so, willy nilly,\nthey were dragged to their doom. Never mind! they were brave fellows\nall the same, and faithful ones\u2014they never let go the handles\u2014look!\ntheir dead hands clasp them still. France should be proud of such sons!\nIt would make a noble coat of arms, this treasure chest sent by freemen\nto aid others\u2014and with two such supporters!\u201d\n\nWe looked at the chest and the skeletons for a while, and then Dick\nsaid:\u2014\n\n\u201cJoyce, this is on your land\u2014for it is yours till to-morrow\u2014and you may\nas well keep it\u2014possession is nine points of the law\u2014and if we take the\ngold out, the government can only try to claim it. But if they take it,\nwe may ask in vain!\u201d Joyce answered:\u2014\n\n\u201cTake it I will, an\u2019 gladly; but not for meself. The money was sent for\nIreland\u2019s good\u2014to help them that wanted help, an\u2019 plase God! I\u2019ll see\nit doesn\u2019t go asthray now!\u201d\n\nDick\u2019s argument was a sensible one, and straightway we wrenched the top\noff the chest, and began to remove the gold; but we never stirred the\nchest or took away those skeleton hands from the handles which they\ngrasped.\n\nIt took us all, carrying a good load each, to bring the money to\nJoyce\u2019s cottage. We locked it in a great oak chest, and warned Miss\nJoyce not to say a word about it. I told Miss Joyce that if Andy came\nfor me he was to be sent on to us, explaining that we were going back\nto the top of the new ravine.\n\nWe followed it up further, till we reached a point much higher up on\nthe hill, and at last came to the cleft in the rock whence the stream\nissued. The floor here was rocky, and it being so, we did not hesitate\nto descend, and even to enter the chine. As we did so, Dick turned to\nme:\u2014\n\n\u201cWell! it seems to me that the mountain is giving up its secrets\nto-day. We have found the Frenchmen\u2019s treasure, and now we may expect,\nI suppose, to find the lost crown! By George! though, it is strange!\nthey said the Snake became the Shifting Bog, and that it went out, by\nthe Shleenanaher!\u2014as we saw the bog did.\u201d\n\nWhen we got well into the chine, we began to look about us curiously.\nThere was something odd\u2014something which we did not expect. Dick was the\nmost prying, and certainly the most excited of us all. He touched some\nof the rock, and then almost shouted:\u2014\n\n\u201cHurrah! this a day of discoveries.\u2014Hurrah! hurrah!\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, Dick, what is it?\u201d I asked\u2014myself in a tumult, for his\nenthusiasm, although we did not know the cause, excited as all.\n\n\u201cWhy! man, don\u2019t you see! this is what we have wanted all along.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is? Speak out, man dear! We are all in ignorance!\u201d Dick laid his\nhand impressively on the rock:\u2014\n\n\u201cLimestone! There is a streak of it here, right through the\nmountain\u2014and, moreover, look! look!\u2014this is not all nature\u2019s work\u2014these\nrocks have been cut in places by the hands of men!\u201d We all got very\nexcited, and hurried up the chine; but the rocks now joined over our\nheads, and all was dark beyond, and the chine became a cave.\n\n\u201cHas anyone a match\u2014we must have a light of some kind here,\u201d said Joyce.\n\n\u201cThere is the lantern in the house. I shall run for it. Don\u2019t stir\nuntil I get back,\u201d I cried; and I ran out and climbed the side of the\nravine, and got to Joyce\u2019s house as soon as I could. My haste and\nimpetuosity frightened Miss Joyce, who called in terror:\u2014\n\n\u201cIs there anything wrong\u2014not an accident I hope?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! no! we only want to examine a rock, and the place is dark. Give us\nthe lantern quick, and some matches.\u201d\n\n\u201cAisy! aisy, alanna!\u201d she said. \u201cThe rock won\u2019t run away!\u201d\n\nI took the lantern and matches and ran back. When we had lit the\nlantern, Norah suggested that we should be very careful, as there might\nbe foul air about. Dick laughed at the idea.\n\n\u201cNo foul air here, Norah; it was full of water a few hours ago,\u201d and\ntaking the lantern, he went into the narrow opening. We all followed,\nNorah clinging tightly to me. The cave widened as we entered, and we\nstood in a moderate sized cavern, partly natural and partly hollowed\nout by rough tools. Here and there, were inscriptions in strange\ncharacter, formed by straight vertical lines something like the old\ntelegraph signs, but placed differently.\n\n\u201cOgham!-one of the oldest and least known of writings,\u201d said Dick, when\nthe light fell on them as he raised the lantern.\u201d\n\nAt the far end of the cave was a sort of slab or bracket, formed of a\npart of the rock carven out. Norah went towards it, and called us to\nher with a loud cry. We all rushed over, and Dick threw the light of\nthe lantern on her; and then exclamations of wonder burst from us also.\n\nIn her hand she held an ancient crown of strange form. It was composed\nof three pieces of flat gold joined all along one edge, like angle\niron, and twisted delicately. The gold was wider and the curves bolder\nin the centre, from which they were fined away to the ends and then\ncurved into a sort of hook. In the centre was set a great stone, that\nshone with the yellow light of a topaz, but with a fire all its own!\n\nDick was the first to regain his composure and, as usual, to speak:\u2014\n\n\u201cThe Lost Crown of Gold!\u2014the crown that gave the hill its name, and was\nthe genesis of the story of St. Patrick and the King of the Snakes!\nMoreover, see, there is a scientific basis for the legend. Before this\nstream cut its way out through the limestone, and made this cavern,\nthe waters were forced upwards to the lake at the top of the hill, and\nso kept it supplied; but when its channel was cut here\u2014or a way opened\nfor it by some convulsion of nature, or the rending asunder of these\nrocks\u2014the lake fell away.\u201d\n\nHe stopped, and I went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cAnd so, ladies and gentlemen, the legend is true, that the Lost Crown\nwould be discovered when the water of the lake was found again.\u201d\n\n\u201cBegor! that\u2019s thrue, anyhow!\u201d said the voice of Andy in the entrance.\n\u201cWell, yer \u2019an\u2019r, iv all the sthrange things what iver happened, this\nis the most sthrangest! Fairies isn\u2019t in it this time, at all, at all!\u201d\n\nI told Andy something of what had happened, including the terrible\ndeaths of Murdock and Moynahan, and sent him off to tell the head\nconstable of police, and any one else he might see. I told him also of\nthe two skeletons found beside the chest.\n\nAndy was off like a rocket. Such news as he had to tell would not come\ntwice in a man\u2019s lifetime, and would make him famous through all the\ncountry-side. When he was gone, we decided that we had seen all that\nwas worth while, and agreed to go back to the house, where we might be\non hand to answer all queries regarding the terrible occurrences of\nthe night. When we got outside the cave, and had ascended the ravine,\nI noticed that the crown in Norah\u2019s hands had now none of the yellow\nglare of the jewel, and feared the latter had been lost. I said to her:\u2014\n\n\u201cNorah, dear! have you dropped the jewel from the crown?\u201d\n\nShe held it up, startled, to see; and then we all wondered again\u2014for\nthe jewel was still there, but it had lost its yellow colour, and\nshone with a white light, something like the lustre of a pearl seen in\nthe midst of the flash of diamonds. It looked like some kind of uncut\ncrystal, but none of us had ever seen anything like it.\n\nWe had hardly got back to the house when the result of Andy\u2019s mission\nbegan to be manifested. Every soul in the country-side seemed to come\npouring in to see the strange sights at Knockcalltecrore. There was a\nperfect babel of sounds; and every possible and impossible story, and\ntheory, and conjecture was ventilated at the top of the voice of every\none, male and female.\n\nThe head constable was one of the first to arrive. He came into the\ncottage, and we gave him all the required details of Murdock\u2019s and\nMoynahan\u2019s death, which he duly wrote down, and then went off with Dick\nto go over the ground.\n\nPresently there was a sudden silence amongst the crowd outside, the\ngeneral body of which seemed to continue as great as ever from the\nnumber of new arrivals\u2014despite the fact that a large number of those\npresent had followed Dick and the head constable in their investigation\nof the scene of the catastrophe. The silence was as odd as noise would\nhave been under ordinary circumstances, so I went to the door to see\nwhat it meant. In the porch I met Father Ryan, who had just come from\nthe scene of the disaster. He shook me warmly by the hand, and said\nloudly, so that all those around might hear:\u2014\n\n\u201cMr. Severn, I\u2019m real glad and thankful to see ye this day. Praise be\nto God, that watched over ye last night, and strengthened the arms of\nthat brave girl to hold ye up.\u201d Here Norah came to join us; and he took\nher warmly by both hands, whilst the people cheered:\u2014\n\n\u201cMy! but we\u2019re all proud of ye! Remember that God has given a great\nmercy through your hands\u2014and ye both must thank Him all the days of\nyour life! And those poor men that met their death so horribly\u2014poor\nMoynahan, in his drunken slumber! Men! it\u2019s a warning to ye all!\nWhenever ye may be tempted to take a glass too much, let the fate of\nthat poor soul rise up before ye and forbid ye to go too far. As for\nthat unhappy Murdock, may God forgive him and look lightly on his sins!\nI told him what he should expect\u2014that the fate of Ahab and Jezebel\nwould be his. For as Ahab coveted the vineyard of his neighbour\nNaboth, and as Jezebel wrought evil to aid him to his desire, so this\nman hath coveted his neighbour\u2019s goods and wrought evil to ruin him.\nAnd now behold his fate, even as the fate of Ahab and Jezebel! He went\nwithout warning and without rites\u2014and no man knows where his body lies.\nThe fishes of the sea have preyed on him, even as the dogs on Jezebel.\u201d\nHere Joyce joined us, and he turned to him:\u2014\n\n\u201cAnd do you, Michael Joyce, take to heart the lesson of God\u2019s goodness!\nYe thought when yer land and yer house was taken that a great wrong was\ndone ye, and that God had deserted ye; and yet so inscrutable are His\nways that these very things were the salvation of ye and all belonging\nto ye. For in his stead you and yours would have been swept in that\nawful avalanche into the sea!\u201d\n\nAnd now the head constable returned with Dick, and the priest went\nout. I took the former aside and asked him if there would be any need\nfor Norah to remain, as there were other witnesses to all that had\noccurred. He told me that there was not the slightest need. Then he\nwent away after telling the people that we all had had a long spell of\ntrouble and labour, and would want to be quiet and have some rest. And\nso, with a good feeling and kindness of heart which I have never seen\nlacking in this people, they melted away; and we all came within the\nhouse, and shut the door, and sat round the fire to discuss what should\nbe done. Then and there we decided that the very next day Norah should\nstart with her father, for the change of scene would do her good, and\ntake her mind off the terrible experiences of last night.\n\nSo that day we rested. The next morning Andy was to drive Joyce and\nNorah and myself off to Galway, en route for London and Paris.\n\nIn the afternoon Norah and I strolled out together for one last look\nat the beautiful scene from our table-rock in the Cliff Fields. Close\nas we had been hitherto, there was now a new bond between us; and when\nwe were out of sight of prying eyes\u2014on the spot where we had first\ntold our loves, I told her of my idea of the new bond. She hung down\nher head, but drew closer to me as I told her how much more I valued\nmy life since she had saved it for me\u2014and how I should in all the two\nyears that were to come try hard that every hour should be such as she\nwould like me to have passed.\n\n\u201cNorah, dear!\u201d I said, \u201cthe bar you place on our seeing each other in\nall that long time will be hard to bear, but I shall know that I am\nenduring for your sake.\u201d She turned to me, and with earnest eyes looked\nlovingly into mine as she said:\u2014\n\n\u201cArthur! dear Arthur, God knows I love you! I love you so well that I\nwant to come to you, if I can, in such a way that I may never do you\ndiscredit; and I am sure that when the two years are over\u2014and, indeed,\nthey will not go lightly for me\u2014you will not be sorry that you have\nmade the sacrifice for me. Dear! I shall ask you when we meet on our\nwedding morning if you are satisfied.\u201d\n\nWhen it was time to go home we rose up, and\u2014it might have been that\nthe evening was chilly\u2014a cold feeling came over me, as though I still\nstood in the shadow of the fateful hill. And there in the Cliff Fields\nI kissed Norah Joyce for the last time!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe two years sped quickly enough, although my not being able to see\nNorah at all was a great trial to me. Often and often I felt tempted\nalmost beyond endurance to go quietly and hang round where she was\nso that I might get even a passing glimpse of her; but I felt that\nsuch would not be loyal to my dear girl. It was hard not to be able\nto tell her, even now and again, how I loved her, but it had been\nexpressly arranged\u2014and wisely enough too\u2014that I should only write\nin such a manner as would pass, if necessary, the censorship of the\nschoolmistress. \u201cI must be,\u201d said Norah to me, \u201cexactly as the other\ngirls are\u2014and, of course, I must be subject to the same rules.\u201d And so\nit was that my letters had to be of a tempered warmth, which caused me\nnow and again considerable pain.\n\nMy dear girl wrote to me regularly, and although there was not any of\nwhat her schoolmistress would call \u201clove\u201d in her letters, she always\nkept me posted in all her doings; and with every letter it was borne in\non me that her heart and feelings were unchanged.\n\nI had certain duties to attend to with regard to my English property,\nand this kept me fairly occupied.\n\nEach few months I ran over to the Knockcalltecrore, which Dick was\ntransforming into a fairyland. The discovery of the limestone had, as\nhe had conjectured, created possibilities in the way of building and of\nwaterworks of which at first we had not dreamed. The new house rose on\nthe table-rock in the Cliff Fields. A beautiful house it was, of red\nsandstone with red tiled roof and quaint gables, and jutting windows\nand balustrades of carven stone. The whole Cliff Fields were laid out\nas exquisite gardens, and the murmur of water was everywhere. None of\nthis I ever told Norah in my letters, as it was to be a surprise to her.\n\nOn the spot where she had rescued me we had reared a great stone\u2014a\nmonolith whereon a simple legend told the story of a woman\u2019s strength\nand bravery. Round its base were sculptured the history of the mountain\nfrom its legend of the King of Snakes down to the lost treasure and the\nrescue of myself. This was all carried out under Dick\u2019s eye. The legend\non the stone was:\u2014\n\n                              NORAH JOYCE\n                             a Brave Woman\n                             on this spot\n                      by her Courage and Devotion\n                          saved a man\u2019s life.\n\nAt the end of the first year Norah went to another school at Dresden\nfor six months; and then, by her own request to Mr. Chapman, was\ntransferred to an English school at Brighton, one justly celebrated\namongst Englishwomen.\n\nThese last six months were very, very long to me; for as the time drew\nnear when I might claim my darling the suspense grew very great, and I\nbegan to have harrowing fears lest her love might not have survived the\nlong separation and the altered circumstances.\n\nI heard regularly from Joyce. He had gone to live with his son\nEugene, who was getting along well, and was already beginning to\nmake a name for himself as an engineer. By his advice his father had\ntaken a sub-section of the great Ship Canal, then in progress of\nconstruction, and with the son\u2019s knowledge and his own shrewdness and\nenergy was beginning to realize what to him was a fortune. So that the\npurchase-money of Shleenanaher, which formed his capital, was used to a\ngood purpose.\n\nAt last the long period of waiting came to an end. A month before\nNorah\u2019s school was finished, Joyce went to Brighton to see her, having\ncome to visit me beforehand. His purpose and mine was to arrange all\nabout the wedding, which we wanted to be exactly as she wished. She\nasked her father to let it be as quiet as possible, with absolutely no\nfuss\u2014no publicity, and in some quiet place where no one knew us.\n\n\u201cTell Arthur,\u201d she said, \u201cthat I should like it to be somewhere near\nthe sea, and where we can get easily on the Continent.\u201d\n\nI fixed on Hythe, which I had been in the habit of visiting\noccasionally, as the place where we were to be married. Here, high\nover the sea level, rises the grand old church where the bones of so\nmany brave old Norsemen rest after a thousand years. The place was so\nnear to Folkestone that after the wedding and an informal breakfast we\ncould drive over to catch the mid-day boat. I lived the requisite time\nin Hythe, and complied with all the formalities.\n\nI did not see my darling until we met in the church-porch, and then\nI gazed on her with unstinted admiration. Oh! what a peerless beauty\nshe was! Every natural grace and quality seemed developed to the full.\nEvery single grace of womanhood was there\u2014every subtle manifestation of\nhigh breeding\u2014every stamp of the highest culture. There was no one in\nthe porch\u2014for those with me delicately remained in the church when they\nsaw me go out to meet my bride\u2014and I met her with a joy unspeakable.\nJoyce went in and left her with me a moment\u2014they had evidently arranged\nto do so\u2014but when we were quite alone she said to me with a very\nserious look:\u2014\n\n\u201cMr. Severn, before we go into the church answer me one question\u2014answer\nme truthfully, I implore you!\u201d A great fear came upon me that at the\nlast I was to suffer the loss of her I loved\u2014that at the moment when\nthe cup of happiness was at my lips it was to be dashed aside\u2014and it\nwas with a hoarse voice and a beating heart I answered:\u2014\n\n\u201cI shall speak truly, Norah! What is it?\u201d She said very demurely:\u2014\n\n\u201cMr. Severn! are you satisfied with me?\u201d I looked up and caught the\nhappy smile in her eyes, and for answer took her in my arms to kiss\nher: but she said:\u2014\n\n\u201cNot yet, Arthur! not yet! What would they say? And besides, it would\nbe unlucky.\u201d So I released her, and she took my arm, and as we came up\nthe aisle together I whispered to her:\u2014\n\n\u201cYes, my darling! Yes! yes! a thousand times. The time has been long,\nlong; but the days were well spent!\u201d She looked at me with a glad,\nhappy look as she murmured in my ear:\u2014\n\n\u201cWe shall see Italy soon, dear, together. I am so happy!\u201d and she\npinched my arm.\n\nThat was a very happy wedding, and as informal as it was happy. As\nNorah had no bridesmaid, Dick, who was to have been my best man, was\nnot going to act; but when Norah knew this she insisted on it, and said\nsweetly:\u2014\n\n\u201cI should not feel I was married properly unless Dick took his place.\nAnd as to my having no bridesmaid, all I can say is, if we had half so\ngood a girl friend, she would be here, of course!\u201d\n\nThis settled the matter, and Dick with his usual grace and energy\ncarried out the best man\u2019s chief duty of taking care of his principal\u2019s\nhat.\n\nThere were only our immediate circle present, Joyce and Eugene, Miss\nJoyce\u2014who had come all the way from Knocknacar, Mr. Chapman, and Mr.\nCaicy\u2014who had also come over from Galway specially. There was one\nother old friend also present, but I did not know it until I came out\nof the vestry, after signing the register, with my wife on my arm.\n\nThere, standing modestly in the background, and with a smile as\nmanifest as a ten acre field, was none other than Andy\u2014Andy so well\ndressed and smart that there was really nothing to distinguish him from\nany other man in Hythe. Norah saw him first, and said heartily:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhy, there is Andy! How are you, Andy?\u201d and held out her hand. Andy\ntook it in his great fist, and stooped and kissed it as if it had been\na saint\u2019s hand and not a woman\u2019s:\u2014\n\n\u201cGod bless and keep ye, Miss Norah darlin\u2019\u2014an\u2019 the Virgin and the\nsaints watch over ye both.\u201d Then he shook hands with me.\n\n\u201cThank you, Andy!\u201d we said both together, and then I beckoned Dick and\nwhispered to him.\n\nWe went back to breakfast in my rooms, and sat down as happy a party as\ncould be\u2014the only one not quite comfortable at first being Andy. He and\nDick both came in quite hot and flushed. Dick pointed to him:\u2014\n\n\u201cHe\u2019s an obstinate, truculent villain, is Andy. Why, I had to almost\nfight him to make him come in. Now, Andy, no running away\u2014it is Miss\nNorah\u2019s will!\u201d and Andy subsided bashfully into a seat. It was fully\nseveral minutes before he either smiled or winked. We had a couple of\nhours to pass before it became time to leave for Folkestone; and when\nbreakfast was over, one and then another said a few kindly words. Dick\nopened the ball by speaking most beautifully of our own worthiness,\nand of how honestly and honourably each had won the other, and of the\nlong life and happiness that lay, he hoped and believed, before us.\nThen Joyce spoke a few manly words of his love for his daughter and\nhis pride in her. The tears were in his eyes when he said how his one\nregret in life was that her dear mother had to look down from Heaven\nher approval on this day, instead of sharing it amongst us as the best\nof mothers and the best of women. Then Norah turned to him and laid her\nhead on his breast and cried a little\u2014not unhappily, but happily, as a\nbride should cry at leaving those she loves for one she loves better\nstill.\n\nOf course both the lawyers spoke, and Eugene said a few words\nbashfully. I was about to reply to them all, when Andy got up and\ncrystallized the situation in a few words:\u2014\n\n\u201cMiss Norah an\u2019 yer \u2019an\u2019r, I\u2019d like, if I might make so bould, to say\na wurrd fur all the men and weemen in Ireland that ayther iv yez iver\nkem across. I often heerd iv fairies, an\u2019 Masther Art knows well how he\nhunted wan from the top iv Knocknacar to the top iv Knockcalltecrore,\nand I won\u2019t say a wurrd about the kind iv a fairy he wanted to find\u2014not\neven in her quare kind iv an eye\u2014bekase I might be overlooked, as the\nmasther was; and more betoken, since I kem here Masther Dick has tould\nme that I\u2019m to be yer \u2019an\u2019r\u2019s Irish coachman. Hurroo! an\u2019 I might get\nevicted from that same houldin\u2019 fur me impidence in tellin\u2019 tales iv\nthe Masther before he was married; but I\u2019ll promise yez both that\nthere\u2019ll be no man from the Giant\u2019s Causeway to Cape Clear what\u2019ll\nthry, an\u2019 thry hardher, to make yer feet walk an\u2019 yer wheels rowl in\naisy ways than meself. I\u2019m takin\u2019 a liberty, I know, be sayin\u2019 so much,\nbut plase God! ye\u2019ll walk yer ways wid honour an\u2019 wid peace, believin\u2019\nin aich other an\u2019 in God\u2014an\u2019 may He bless ye both, an\u2019 yer childher,\nand yer childher\u2019s childher to folly ye. An\u2019 if iver ayther iv yez\nwants to shtep into glory over a man\u2019s body, I hope ye\u2019ll not look past\npoor ould Andy Sullivan!\u201d\n\nAndy\u2019s speech was quaint, but it was truly meant, for his heart was\nfull of quick sympathy, and the honest fellow\u2019s eyes were full of tears\nas he concluded.\n\nThen Miss Joyce\u2019s health was neatly proposed by Mr. Chapman and\nresponded to in such a way by Mr. Caicy that Norah whispered me that\nshe would not be surprised if Aunt took up her residence in Galway\nbefore long.\n\nAnd now the hour was come to say good-bye to all friends. We entered\nour carriage and rolled away, leaving behind us waving hands, loving\neyes, and hearts that beat most truly.\n\nAnd the great world lay before us with all the possibilities of\nhappiness that men and women may win for themselves. There was never a\ncloud to shadow our sun-lit way; and we felt that we were one.\n\n\n                              [Colophon]\n\n\n         CHISWICK PRESS:\u2014C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT,\n                            CHANCERY LANE.","title":"The Snake's Pass","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":93969}