gates my father would be
alive to this day. I ast him what his manin' was; but another man
tould him to hould his tongue, an' tould me not to heed him, for he had
drink on him."

"Well, don't think about it any more, Patsy," Uncle Niel said; he was
not laughing now. "You and I have a lot to forgive when we think of
Patrick M'Garvey, but we do well to forgive, as God forgives us."

Mick could not go to sleep that night thinking of what Uncle Niel and
Patsy had said. It was a wet night, and the rain beat against the
windows. After a bit Jane came into his room from the nursery; she
could not sleep either, and she thought she had heard the banshee
crying. But there was no sound except the pelting of heavy rain when
they listened. Mick made her crawl into his bed, and then they must
have fallen asleep. They were waked by the sound of voices downstairs.
The rain was over, but the wind was up, and the voices seemed to die
away and rise again every time there was a lull in the storm. They
both got up, and dressed hurriedly, without waking the others.
Something must have happened, they thought, and on such a dismal
morning it could only be something bad. All the village was gathered
in the kitchen when they got downstairs. Some of the women were
crying, and there was a scared look on the men's faces. Mick and Jane
were sure their mother must be dead. But no one took any notice of
them, and they could not see Lull anywhere.

"The dog was howlin' at half-past eleven," Mick heard a man say, "an'
the dour was locked and boulted when the polis tuk the body home."

Then the back door opened, and Father Ryan, the parish priest, came in.

"Go home, every one of you," he said; "talkin' won't give the man his
life back."

The kitchen was soon cleared. Mick saw Lull sitting by the table, her
head on her hands. Father Ryan put his hand on her shoulder.

"I've lost my best friend, Lull," he said. Lull looked up; Mick hardly
knew her face, it was so small and old.

"God help us, Father," she said, and then began to cry wildly. "Miss
Mary, poor Miss Mary; it'll be the death of her."

"You are right, Lull," Father Ryan said; "she'll never get over it.
I've just come from her. It will just be the mistress over again----
What are the children doing here?" he added quickly.

"God forgive me, I niver seen them to this minute," said Lull.

Father Ryan called them over to him. "Do you know what's come to you?"
he said