He then sat down on the bed, and, placing his hands upon his face, wept long and bitterly.  His grief now, however, was natural, for, during the most violent of his paroxysms in the preceding hour, he shed not a tear; yet now they ran down his cheeks, and through his fingers, in torrents.

“Cry on, cry on,” said Nogher, wiping his own eyes; “it will lighten your heart; an’ who knows but it’s his mother’s prayers that brought you to yourself, and got this relief for you.  Go, Biddy,” said he, in a whisper, to the servant-maid, “and tell the mistress to come here; she’ll know best how to manage him, now that he’s a little calm.”

“God be praised!” ejaculated Honor, on seeing him weep; “these tears will cool your head, avourneen; an’ now, Fardorougha, when you’re tired cryin’, if you take my advice, you’ll go to your knees an’ offer up five pathers, five Aves, an’ a creed, for the grace of the Almighty to direct and strengthen you; and thin, afther that, go to bed, as I sed, an’ you’ll find how well you’ll be afther a sound sleep.”

“Honor,” replied her husband, “avourneen machree, I think you’ll save your husband’s sowl yet, undhor my merciful Saviour.”

“Your son, undher the same merciful God, will do it.  Your heart was hard and godless, Fardorougha, and, surely, if Connor’s death ’ll be the manes of savin’ his father’s sowl, wouldn’t it be a blessin’ instead of a misfortune?  Think of it in that light, Fardorougha, and turn your heart to God.  As for Connor, isn’t it a comfort to know that the breath won’t be out of his body till he’s a bright angel in heaven?”

The old man wiped his eyes and knelt down, first having desired them to leave him.  When the prayers were recited he called in Honor.

“I’m afeard,” said he, “that my heart wasn’t properly in them, for I couldn’t prevent my mind from wanderin’ to our boy.”

This touching observation took the mother’s affections by surprise.  A tear started to her eye, but, after what was evidently a severe struggle, she suppressed it.

“It’s not at once you can do it, Fardorougha; so don’t be cast down.  Now, go to bed, in the name of God, and sleep; and may the Lord in heaven support you—­and support us both! for oh! it’s we that want it this night of sorrow!”

She then stooped down and affectionately kissed him, and, having wished him good night, she retired to Connor’s bed, where, ever since the day of his incarceration, this well-tried mother and enduring Christian slept.

At this stage of our story we will pause, for a moment, to consider the state of mind and comparative happiness of the few persons who are actors in our humble drama.