ly under the influence of wildness and distraction, or
rather as if she felt there was something either mortal or spectral in
pursuit of her. He hailed her by her name as she passed him, for he knew
her, but received no reply. To Tom, who had, as the reader knows, been
a witness of the scene we have described, this fearful glimpse of Nannie
Morrissey's desolation and misery, under the pelting of the pitiless
storm and the angry roar of the I elements, was distressing in the
highest degree, and filled his honest heart with compassion for her
sufferings.

He was now making his way home at his utmost speed, when he heard the
trampling of a horse's feet coming on at a rapid pace behind him, and on
looking back he saw a horseman making his way in the same direction
with himself. As he advanced, the repeated flashes made them distinctly
visible to each other.

"I say," shouted the horseman at the top of his lungs, "can you direct
me to any kind of a habitation, where I may take shelter?"

"Speak louder," shouted Tom; "I can't hear you for the wind."

The other, in a voice still more elevated, repeated the question, "I
want to get under the roof of some human habitation, if there be one
left standing. I feel that I have gone astray, and this is no night to
be out in."

"Faith, sir," again shouted Tom, "it's pure gospel you're spakin', at
any rate. A habitation! Why, upon my credibility, they'd not deserve a
habitation that 'ud refuse to open the door for a dog on such a night
as this, much less to a human creature with a sowl to be saved. A
habitation! Well, I think I can, and one where you'll be well treated. I
suppose, sir, you're a gentleman?"

"Speak out," shouted the traveller in his turn; "I can't hear you."

Tom shaded his mouth with his hand, and shouted again, "I suppose, sir,
you're a gentleman?"

"Why, I suppose I am," replied the stranger, rather haughtily.

"Becaise," shouted Tom, "devil a traneen it 'ud signify to them I'm
bringing you to whether you are or not. The poorest man in the parish
would be sheltered as well as you, or maybe a betther man."

"Are we near the house?" said the other.

"It's just at hand, sir," replied Tom, "and thanks be to God for it; for
if ever the devil was abroad on mischief, he is this night, and may the
Lord save us! It's a night for a man to tell his grandchildre about, and
he may call it the 'night o' the big storm.'"

A lull had now taken place, and Tom heard a lau