“Well,” replied the other, “what more can you say, indeed?  I’m thankful to you, Jerry, an’ I’ll accept your kind offer.”

The night had set in when they reached the house, where the traces of poverty were as visible upon the inmates as upon the furniture.

Sullivan was strangely excited—­he had discovered a stolen interview outside between his eldest daughter and young Condy Dalton.

Mave Sullivan—­a young creature of nineteen, of rare natural beauty and angelic purity—­turned deadly pale when her father spoke.

“Bridget,” Sullivan said, turning to his wife, “I tell you that I came upon that undutiful daughter of ours coortin’ wid the son of the man that murdhered her uncle, my only brother—­coortin’ wid a fellow that Dan M’Gowan here knows will be hanged yet, for he’s jist afther tellin’ him so.”

“You’re ravin’, Jerry,” exclaimed his wife.  “You don’t mean to tell me that she’d spake to, or make any freedoms whatsomever wid young Condy Dalton?  Hut, no, Jerry; don’t say that, at all events!”

But Sullivan’s indignation passed quickly to alarm and distress, for his daughter tottered, and would have fallen to the ground if Donnel had not caught her.

“Save me from that man!” she shrieked at Donnel, clinging to her mother.  “Don’t let him near me!  I can’t tell why, but I am deadly afraid of him!”

Her parents, already sorry for their harsh words, tried their utmost to console her.

“Don’t be alarmed, my purty creature,” said the Black Prophet softly.  “I see a great good fortune before you.  I see a grand and handsome husband, and a fine house to live in.  Grandeur and wealth is before her, for her beauty an’ her goodness will bring it all about.”

When the family, after the father had offered up a few simple prayers, retired to rest, Sullivan took down his brother’s old great coat, and placed it over M’Gowan, who was already in bed.  But the latter immediately sat up and implored him to take it away.

Next morning before departing, Donnel repeated to Mave Sullivan his prophecy of the happy and prosperous marriage.

But Mave, who knew where her affection rested, found no comfort in these predictions, for the Daltons were pressed as hard by poverty as their neighbours.

As for Donnel M’Gowan, cunning and unscrupulous, his plan was to secure Mave for young Dick o’ the Grange, a small landowner, and a profligate.  To do this he relied on the help of his daughter Sarah and was disappointed.  For Sarah was to find Mave Sullivan her friend, and she renounced her father’s scheme, so that no harm happened to the girl.

III.—­The Shadow of Crime

With famine came typhus fever, and the state of the country was frightful beyond belief.  Thousands were reduced to mendicancy, numbers perished on the very highways, and the road was literally black with funerals.  Temporary sheds were erected near the roadsides, containing fever-stricken patients who had no other home.