“I had my token surely for what I done,” he said. “’Here is your warrant,’ you says.  Worn’t them your words?”

“But not for death,” replied Hardress.  “I did not say for death.”

“I own you didn’t,” said Danny Mann.  “I felt for you, an’ I wouldn’t wait for you to say it.  Your eye looked murder; as sure as that moon is shinin’, so sure the sign of death was on your face that time, whatever way your words went.”

Hardress gave him money, and helped him to escape, bidding him leave the country.  “If ever we should meet again on Irish soil,” he said, “it must be the death of either.”

The exertions for Danny Mann’s recapture proved unavailing, and in a few weeks the affair had begun to grow unfamiliar to the tongues and recollections of the people.  Hardress’s depression reached an unbearable degree, and Anne at last grew seriously uneasy.  He assured her that if she knew all she would pity and not blame.  Then, one day when they were walking together they came upon some countryfolk dancing in the road, and amongst them Hardress recognised the hunchback.  He caught him by the throat and flung him violently against the wall.

Danny Mann was taken into custody again, and, before the magistrate, told of Hardress’s complicity in the crime.  He declared that he had always loved his master, but that from the moment of the assault a change had come over his love.

“He had his revenge, an’ I’ll have mine,” he said.  “He doesn’t feel for me, an’ I won’t feel for him.  Write down Danny Mann for the murderer of Eily, an’ write down Hardress Cregan for his adviser.”  He produced the certificate of Eily’s marriage.  “I took it out of her bosom after—­” He shuddered with such violence that the door trembled.  “She kep’ her hand in her bosom upon that paper to the last gasp, as if she thought it was to rob her of that I wanted.”

The magistrate, accompanied by a guard, rode to Castle Chute.  It was the wedding evening, and the house was filled with gay company.  As all sat at table together, Hardress heard a low voice whisper in his ear, “Arise, and fly for your life!” The wineglass fell from his hand, and he became filled with terror.  Once again he heard the voice, “Arise, I tell you!  The army is abroad, and your life is in danger!”

As he was preparing to escape, his mother entered his presence.

“The doors are all defended!” she cried.  “There is a soldier set on every entrance!  You are trapped and caught!  The window—­come this way, quick—­quick!”

She drew him passively into her own bed-chamber; some minutes later the soldiers forced their way forward, and found him concealed in an inner place.  His mother sank at his feet, and cried out that the crime was hers, since she had been the author of his first temptation, the stumbling-block between him and repentance.

“I have tied the cord upon your throat!” she shrieked.  “I have been your fellest foe!  You drank in pride with my milk, and passion under my indulgence!”