hunger or distress.  She bestowed a peculiarly sinister scrutiny on my poor sister.  After some parley, we said we should have something to eat, either for love or money, and while saying so, we began to examine the locks of our pistols.  Either admonished by these stern intercessors, or by a look of compassion from her beautiful daughter, who stood at some distance, she replied we should have what we asked for, but only for love.  Her daughters, of whom there were two, busied themselves in producing new barley bread and skimmed milk, of which we partook immoderately.  We parted on better terms, and my friend Stephens was greeted with a smile from each of the lovely girls, which so influenced him that he insisted upon revealing our character and asking their hospitality for the night.  After a good deal of discussion it was agreed he should make the experiment alone.  He returned and produced the military cap which he always wore inside his shirt.  This at once produced the desired effect, and one of the young girls came bounding up the hill to invite us to return.  It was arranged, however, that we should remain on a hay-loft until quite dusk, which we gladly agreed to.  The host entered with us, and stayed until we were admitted to the dwelling-house.  To me, at least, that hay-loft imparted a sense of unutterable enjoyment.  I was there enabled to support the drooping head of my sister, as overcharged with weariness and pain of mind, she sank into unconscious sleep.

As night fell, we were introduced into a comfortable parlour.  There we had tea and eggs, with some punch.  The family felt the warmest interest in us; but at the same time they occasionally manifested evident alarm.  The utmost precaution was observed so as to prevent our being noticed, and we only retired to bed when the hour of midnight had struck, and the house was sunk in silence and solitude.  During all that night the storm roared pitilessly and the rain fell heavily.  Had it surprised us on the bleak hill, our wandering had that night ended, and the ravens of Cumshinane had feasted on our flesh.  Next day the storm did not cease to howl nor the rain to sweep on the angry winds.  About five o’clock, during a brief pause of the rain, preparations were made which significantly intimated that we were expected to leave.  Our host was well acquainted with the fishermen of Dungarvan and he solemnly warned us against treating with any of them.  Betrayal, he said, would be certain.  But he promised to accompany my sister next day to the town, where he would make every inquiry; and if he failed, as he anticipated, would see her away on the car; in which case we were to try another and a far remote sea-board.  A certain newspaper of high Liberal character, affected to bestow upon us intense consideration and deep compassion.  It had a guard of mobile reporters, some of whom contrived to be everywhere and hear everything—­especially what did not occur.  One of them, with a keener