quer, and remain here by myself."

"But I have no such fears," said the priest; "I shall stay within the
shelter of this old ruin until your return, which will be as quick, I
trust, as possible."

O'Regan was about to start off at the top of his speed; and Father Roche
began to walk to and fro the old ruin, struck by the pale moonlight, as
it fell through the gray stone windows, loopholes, and breaches of
the walls, lighting up some old remnant of human ambition, or perhaps
exposing a grinning skull, bleached by time and the elements into that
pale white, which is perhaps the most ghastly exponent of death and
the dead. At this moment, however, they were each in no small
degree startled by the sound of human voices; and, to complete their
astonishment, two figures approached the humble grave on which the dead
body of Mary O'Regan lay stretched. On turning towards the moon they
were both immediately recognized by the priest and O'Regan, who looked
on in silence and wonder, and waited to hear, if possible, the object of
their visit.

"I say again," said Phil, "I say my jolly ph-foolosophy--eh
foolosopher--that is to say, you deal in foolosophy--an ex-excellent
trade for a fool--I say again, you have brought me the wrong way, or
misled me somehow--upon my honor and reputation, Rimon, I rather
think you're short of sense, my man. Come, I say, let us be off home
again--what the devil did you bring me to a church-yard for?--eh?"

"Whisht," said Raymond, "let us see--who have we here? Ah," said he,
stooping down and feeling the chill of death upon her features, "it is
Mary O'Regan, and she's dead--dead!"

"Dead," exclaimed Phil, starting, "curse you, Rimon, let us be off at
full speed, I say--Gad, I'm in a nice pickle; and these pistols are of
no use against any confounded ghost."

On hearing that Phil carried pistols, O'Regan started, and had it been
daylight, a fierce but exulting fire might have been seen to kindle in
his eyes.

"What can have brought them here?" asked Father Roche; "I cannot
understand their visit at such an hour to such a place as this."

"A few minutes, sir, will make all clear, maybe."

"And what brought poor Mary here to die, do you know?" inquired Raymond;
"no you don't," he replied, "but I will tell you--she came to die near
poor White-head that she loved so much, and near Torley, and near poor
Hugh himself, that the bloodhounds--"

"Damn my honor, Rimon, if I can stand this any longer--I