rady. Hence, for
a short distance, they followed the same road.

Young Maylands would have passed the house, but as Grady was an intimate
friend of George Aspel, he agreed to stop just to shake hands.

Patrick Grady was the soul of hospitality. He was not to be put off
with a mere shake of the hand, not he--telegrams meant nothing
now-a-days, he said, everybody sent them. No cause for alarm. They
must stop and have a glass of mountain dew.

Aspel was resolute, however; he would not sit down, though he had no
objection to the mountain dew. Accordingly, the bottle was produced,
and a full glass was poured out for Aspel, who quaffed off the pure
spirit with a free-and-easy toss and smack of the lips, that might have
rendered one of the beery old sea-kings envious.

"No, sur, I thank ye," said Mike, when a similar glass was offered to
him.

"What! ye haven't taken the pledge, have ye?" said Grady.

"No, sur; but I've had three glasses already on me walk, an' that's as
much as I can rightly carry."

"Nonsense, Mike. You've a stiff climb before you--here, take it off."

The facile postman did take it off without further remonstrance.

"Have a dhrop, Phil?"

"No, thank ee," said Phil, firmly, but without giving a reason for
declining.

Being a boy, he was not pressed to drink, and the party left the house.
A short distance farther on the road forked, and here the post-runner
turned off to the right, taking the path which led towards the hill
whose rugged shoulder he had yet to scale.

Mike Kenny breasted it not only with the energy of youth and strength,
but with the additional and artificial energy infused by the spirits, so
that, much to his own surprise, his powers began to fail prematurely.
Just then a storm of wind and sleet came down from the heights above,
and broke with bitter fury in his face. He struggled against it
vigorously for a time till he gained a point whence he saw the dark blue
sea lashing on the cliffs below. He looked up at the pass which was
almost hid by the driving sleet. A feeling of regret and
self-condemnation at having so readily given in to Grady was mingled
with a strong sense of the duty that he had to discharge as he once more
breasted the steep. The bitter cold began to tell on his exhausted
frame. In such circumstances a small matter causes a man to stumble.
Kenny's foot caught on something--a root it might be--and he fell
headlong into a ditch and was stunned. The