h weariness and pain of mind, she sank
into unconscious sleep.

As night fell, we were introduced into a comfortable parlour. There we
had tea and eggs, with some punch. The family felt the warmest interest
in us; but at the same time they occasionally manifested evident alarm.
The utmost precaution was observed so as to prevent our being noticed,
and we only retired to bed when the hour of midnight had struck, and the
house was sunk in silence and solitude. During all that night the storm
roared pitilessly and the rain fell heavily. Had it surprised us on the
bleak hill, our wandering had that night ended, and the ravens of
Cumshinane had feasted on our flesh. Next day the storm did not cease to
howl nor the rain to sweep on the angry winds. About five o'clock,
during a brief pause of the rain, preparations were made which
significantly intimated that we were expected to leave. Our host was
well acquainted with the fishermen of Dungarvan and he solemnly warned
us against treating with any of them. Betrayal, he said, would be
certain. But he promised to accompany my sister next day to the town,
where he would make every inquiry; and if he failed, as he anticipated,
would see her away on the car; in which case we were to try another and
a far remote sea-board. A certain newspaper of high Liberal character,
affected to bestow upon us intense consideration and deep compassion. It
had a guard of mobile reporters, some of whom contrived to be everywhere
and hear everything--especially what did not occur. One of them, with a
keener scent than his fellows, discovered my sister's track--made
himself familiar with her person and apparel--and announced her
movements with a mournful accuracy. He conjectured, not unjustly, that
my haunts must be near the scene of her wanderings. Completely absorbed
by the one idea of gratifying the curiosity of his readers, he seemed
indifferent to the conclusion, which, to a mind less engaged, would
appear palpable, and inevitable--namely, that what was information to
our anxious friends would equally serve the purpose of our watchful
pursuers.

It became, therefore, dangerous to have her continue any longer with or
near us. A hasty dinner was prepared, and we arranged to meet our host
next day within a mile of Dungarvan. Never did parting look more like a
last one than mine with my sister, on that occasion. For some time I
thought she would be the first victim of our hard destiny. She seemed
in