hich they drove became
precipitous and more stony than ever. Another stream, scorning its
properly appointed course, flowed down the road, rolling large stones
with it. Patsy Doolan was obliged to get down and lead the mare. After
persuading her to advance twenty yards or so he called for the help of
the police. Sergeant Rahilly took the other side of the mare's
head. Constable Malone pushed at the back of the car. Dr. Lovaway,
uncomfortable and rather nervous, wanted to get down and wade too. But
the sergeant would not hear of this.

"Let you sit still," he said. "The water's over the tops of my boots,
so it is, and where's the use of you getting a wetting that might be the
death of you?"

"Is it much farther?" asked Lovaway.

The sergeant considered the matter.

"It might be a mile and a bit," he said, "from where we are this
minute."

The mile was certainly an Irish mile, and Dr. Lovaway began to think
that there were some things in England, miles for instance, which are
better managed than they are in Ireland. "The bit" which followed the
mile belonged to a system of measurement even more generous than Irish
miles and acres.

"I suppose now," said the sergeant, "that the country you come from is a
lot different from this."

He had taken his seat again on the car after leading the mare up the
river. He spoke in a cheery, conversational tone. Dr. Lovaway thought of
Manchester and the surrounding district, thought of trams, trains, and
paved streets.

"It is different," he said, "very different indeed."

Ballygran appeared at last, dimly visible through the driving rain. It
was a miserable-looking hovel, roofed with sodden thatch, surrounded
by a sea of mud. A bare-footed woman stood in the doorway. She wore
a tattered skirt and a bodice fastened across her breast with a brass
safety-pin. Behind her stood a tall man in a soiled flannel jacket and a
pair of trousers which hung in a ragged fringe round his ankles.

"Come in," said Mrs. Finnegan, "come in the whole of yez. It's a
terrible day, sergeant, and I wonder at you bringing the doctor out in
the weather that does be it in. Michael"--she turned to her husband who
stood behind her--"let Patsy Doolan be putting the mare into the shed,
and let you be helping him. Come in now, doctor, and take an air of the
fire. I'll wet a cup of tea for you, so I will."

Dr. Lovaway passed through a low door into the cottage. His eyes
gradually became accustomed to the