t, and stayed with him a few moments,
after which he returned to Raymond and the priest, who were now in the
ruin.

"I think he will be well enough shortly," he observed, "but the truth
is, Raymond, that he wasn't worth your vengeance. I will now go and
fetch a few of the neighbors to assist in bringing my poor mother down
from this lonely spot, that she may at least have a Christian roof over
her."

He accordingly departed, and Father Roche in a few minutes had Phil's
mind completely disentangled from the train of dark thoughts and
affectionate impulses by which it had been for some time past
alternately influenced.

"Raymond," said the priest, "how could you think of committing such a
frightful act as murder?"

"Ha, ha!" he replied, "sure i'twas when I thought of Mary M'Loughlin and
poor White-head."

"And how did it happen that, of all places in the world, you both came
here?"

"Becaise White-head and the rest are here. Sure he thought he was comin'
to a poor creature upon no good, and when he was drunk it was aisey to
bring him anywhere--ha, ha! that's one too--for I--can manage him."

"I thank the Almighty Father," ejaculated the priest, "that I was able
to prevent another murder this night--for most assuredly, Raymond, you
would have taken his life."

"Ho, ho!" exclaimed the fool, with a little of his former ferocity,
"sure it was for that I brought him here--aye, aye, nothin' else."

"Well, while you live," continued the old man, "never attempt to have
the blood of a fellow creature on your soul. I must go over and see how
he feels--I perceive he is able to sit up. Young man," he proceeded,
addressing Phil, "I render God thanks that I have been instrumental in
saving your life this night."

"That's more than I know," replied this grateful youth; "I neither saw
nor heard you, if you were."

"It matters not," replied the other, "let me assist you to rise."

"I can rise myself now," said he, getting up and staggering; "I'll
transport you and that d----d savage, Rimon the hatter. You are a
po-popish priest, and you cannot be he-here at this time of night for
much good. Never fear but I'll make you give an account of yourself, my
old buck."

The, reader is already aware that Phil had been far advanced in
intoxication previously; but when we take into account the fearful
throttling he received, and the immense rush of blood which must have
taken place to the brain, we need not be surprised that he sho