leave word at Mary M'Kelly's, in the glen below,
and I'll hear of it."

"But don't you think you had better remain here with us? you could help
in the garden and the walks."

"No; I never do be working at all--I hate work."

"Yes, but easy work, Terry," said Miss Travers, "among the flowers and
shrubs here."

"No--I'd be quite low and sorrowful if I was to be staying in one place,
and maybe--maybe"--here he whispered so low, as only to be heard by
her--"maybe they'd find me out."

"No; there's no fear of that," said she, "we'll take care no one shall
trouble you--stay here, Terry."

"Well, I believe I will," said he, after a pause, "I may go away when I
like."

"To be sure, and now let us see how you are to be lodged," said Sir
Marmaduke, who already, interested by that inexplicable feeling which
grows out of our pity for idiotcy, entered into his daughter's schemes
for poor Terry's welfare.

A small cottage near the boat-house on the verge of the lake, inhabited
by a labourer and his children, offered the wished-for asylum, and
there Terry was at once installed, and recognised as a member of the
household.

CHAPTER VI. THE BLACK VALLEY.

Although deferred by the accidents of the morning, Sir Marmaduke's visit
to the priest was not abandoned, and at length, he and his daughter
set out on their excursion up the glen. Their road, after pursuing the
highway for about two miles, diverged into a narrow valley, from which
there was no exit save by the mode in which it was entered. Vast masses
of granite rock, piled heap above heap, hung as it were suspended over
their heads, the tangled honey-suckle falling in rich festoons from
these, and the purple arbutus glowing like grape-clusters among the
leaves. It was a mellow, autumnal day, when the warmth of colouring is
sobered down by massive shadows--the impress of the clouds which moved
slowly above. The air was hot and thick, and save when an occasional
breeze came, wafted from the water, was even oppressive.

The silence of the glen was profound--not a bird was heard, nor was
there in the vast expanse of air, a single wing seen floating. As they
rode, they often stopped to wonder at the strange but beautiful effects
of light that glided now slowly along the mountains--disappeared--then
shone again; the giant shadows seeming to chase each other through the
dreary valley. Thus, sauntering along they took no note of time, when at
last the long low cottage, w