matter, fer ye've niver been there, an 'tis no place to go to
unheedin'. Manny an' manny a time I'd walked wid Mary Haggarty there.
There's a steep hill betune two pints uv land. If ye go low on't ye're
safe enough--if ye go high it crumbles, an' down ye shlip a hunder fut
into the say. In me drame I saw Mary onthinkin', or thinkin' maybe about
me an' not about the high path or the low--though 'tis only the low
that's used these twinty years. Her head was down. I tried to call her.
She didn't hear, but wint an an' an. All at wanst I saw the ground give
way. She shlipped an' snatched at the spinifex. Wan minnit she held, an'
thin slid down, down into the say. An' I woke callin' 'Mary--Mary' in me
throat."

"Ye dramed it wance only, Connor?" said Coolin, with the insolent grin
gone out of his eyes.

"I dramed it three times, an' the last time, whin I waked, I felt a cold
wind go over me. Thin a hand touched me face--the same as you, Coolin,
the same as you. Drames are thrue things, Coolin."

"It was thrue, thin, Connor?"

A look of shame and a curious look of fear crept into Coolin's face; for
though it was not true he had dreamed of the hand on his face and the
cold wind blowing over him, it was true he had dreamed he saw Connor
lying on the ground with a bullet-hole in his tunic. But Coolin, being
industrious at his trencher, often had dreams, and one more or less
horrible about Connor had not seemed to him to matter at all. It had
sufficed, however, to give him a cue to chaff the man who had knocked
the wind out of Subadar Goordit Singh, and who must pay for it one hour
or another in due course, as Coolin and the Berkshires knew full well.

"It was thrue, thin, William Connor?" repeated Coolin.

"As thrue as that yander tripod pump kills wan man out uv ivery fifty.
As thrue as that y'r corn-beef from y'r commysariat tins gives William
Connor thirst, Coolin."

"She was drownded, Connor?" asked Coolin in a whisper.

"As I dramed it, an' allowin' fer difference uv time, at the very hour,
Coolin. 'Tis five years ago, an' I take it hard that Mary Haggarty
spakes to me through you. 'Tis a warnin', Coolin."

"'Twas a lie I told you, Connor--'twas a lie!" And Coolin tried to grin.

Connor's voice was like a woman's, soft and quiet, as he answered:
"Ye'll lie fast enough, Coolin, whin the truth won't sarve; but the
truth has sarved its turn this time."

"Aw, Connor dear, only wan half's thrue. As I'm a man--only wan