that laid his head open--it just come, like
yer own, down to that--'Ayeh!' says she, 'but he's the fine corpse; and
wasn't it the Lord spared his eye!'"

"Stop, and good luck to you, Freney, and don't be making me laugh; the
pain goes through my brain like the stick of a knife," said Owen, as he
lifted his trembling hands and pressed them on either side of his head.

They wetted his lips with water, and resumed their way, not speaking
aloud as before, but in a low undertone, only audible to Owen at
intervals; for he had sunk into a half-stupid state, they believed to be
sleep. The path each moment grew steeper; for, leaving the wild "boreen"
road, which led to a large bog on the mountainside, it wound now
upwards, zigzaging between masses of granite rock and deep tufts of
heather, where sometimes the foot sunk to the instep. The wet and spongy
soil increased the difficulty greatly; and although all strong and
powerful men, they were often obliged to halt and rest themselves.

"It's an elegant view, sure enough," said one, wiping his dripping
forehead with the tail of his coat. "See there! look down where the fair
is, now! it isn't the size of a good griddle, the whole of it. How purty
the lights look shining in the water!"

"And the boats, too! Musha! they're coming up more of them. There'll be
good divarshin there, this night." These last words, uttered with a half
sigh, shewed with what a heavy heart the speaker saw himself debarred
from participating in the festivity.

"'Twas a dhroll place to build a house then, up there," said another,
pointing to the dark speck, far, far away on the mountain, where Owen
Connor's cabin stood.

"Owen says yez can see Galway of a fine day, and the boats going out
from the Claddagh; and of an evening, when the sun is going down, you'll
see across the bay, over to Clare, the big cliffs of Mogher."

"Now, then! are ye in earnest? I don't wonder he's so fond of the
place after all. It's an elegant thing to see the whole world, and fine
company besides. Look at Lough Mask! Now, boys, isn't that beautiful
with the sun on it?"

"Come, it's getting late, Freney, and the poor boy ought to be at home
before night;" and once more they lifted their burden and moved forward.

For a considerable time they continued to ascend without speaking, when
one of the party in a low cautious voice remarked, "Poor Owen will think
worse of it, when he hears the reason of the fight, than for the cut o