that wound through dead whins and boulders, up to the
cottage, where the rain was dripping from the thatch. Mick never
stopped till he was at the door. There was no answer to his knock.
"Pat," he whispered, "let me in." Still there was no answer. He
looked in at the window: the fire was out, and the place looked
deserted. "He's away," he muttered. But just then the door opened.
"Is that you?" said Pat's voice. "Come in." Mick went in, and shut
the door behind him.

"Pat," he said, "ye must be off at wanst--quick, quick--or they'll
catch ye."

"Who tould ye?" said Pat.

"Nobuddy tould me. They said he was in America an' the ould mother was
buried yesterday. But ye must be goin' this minute."

"Hould on a minute," said Pat; "do ye know what ye're sayin', do ye
know what I've done at all?"

"I do," said Mick; "ye mur---- Ye tould me yerself ye were goin' to do
me the cruel harm."

"Is that all ye know?" said Pat--"then ye know nothin'. Do ye see that
gun there?" Mick saw it was still hanging over the chimneypiece.
"Well, it was that gun shot your father. Do ye see what I mane?"

Mick stared at him in a dazed way. "My father?" he repeated.

"Your father," said Pat; "an' it was my father murdered him."

Mick was too dazed to take it in. All he could think of, all he could
see, was that thin white face before his eyes.

"Do ye think ye'll get safe to America?" he said huskily.

"My God, are ye a chile at all?" said Pat. He gave a big sob, that
made Mick jump, and then began to cry and shake all over. "What did I
do it for at all at all?" he wailed.

Mick put his arm round him. "Whist, Pat, whist, man; ye must be off,
now, at wanst."

Pat stopped crying. "I'm not goin'," he said. "I done what he bid me,
an' now I'll give myself up, an' let them hang me: it's what I disarve."

"Listen a bit, Pat," said Mick. "Ye didn't mane it, I know that. It's
not you but yer ould father that ought to be hanged----" He stopped,
something came back to his mind as though out of a far-off past; but it
was only last night Uncle Niel had said: "We do well to forgive him, as
God forgives us." "Pat," he cried, "Uncle Niel said we were to forgive
your father!" Quickly he told the whole story--what Patsy had said,
what Uncle Niel had answered, with such a sense of relief as he told it
that he felt almost glad. "An' I know he would forgive you for
murderin' him, Pat, this very minute, if he could spake." Pat