home at the time, and left neither a bed under us nor a roof over us.  At all events, it is well for her that she was a woman; but she has a son born in her own image, so far, at least, as a bad heart is concerned; that son is the destroyer of Granua Davoren; but not a man of you must raise his hand to him:  he must be left to my vengeance.  Caterine Collins has told me much more about him, but it is useless to mention it.  The Evil Spirit I spoke of, the Shan-dhinne-dhuv, and he have been often seen together; but no matter for that; he’ll find the same spirit badly able to protect him; so, as I said before, he must be left to my vengeance.”

“You mentioned Caterine Collins?” said one of them.  “Caterine has friends here, Shawn.  What is your opinion of her?”

“Yes,” observed another, “she has friends here; but, then, she has enemies too, men who have a good right to hate the ground she walks on.”

“Whatever my opinion of Caterine Collins may be,” said Shawn, “I will keep it to myself; I only say, that the man who injures her is no friend of mine.  Isn’t she a woman?  And, surely, we are not to quarrel with, or injure a defenceless woman.”

By this piece of policy Shawn gained considerable advantage.  His purpose was to preserve such an ascendency over that cunning and treacherous woman as might enable him to make her useful in working out his own designs, his object being, not only on that account, but for the sake of his own personal safety, to stand well with both her friends and her enemies.

Other matters were discussed, and plans of vengeance proposed and assented to, the details of which would afford our readers but slight gratification.  After their projects had been arranged, this wild and savage, but melancholy group, dispersed, and so intimately were they acquainted with the intricacies of cover and retreat which then characterized the surface of the country, that in a few minutes they seemed rather to have vanished like spectres than to have disappeared like living men.  Shawn, however, remained behind in order to hold some private conversation with Barney Casey.

“Barney,” said he, “I wish to speak, to you about that villain Woodward.”

“I don’t at all doubt,” replied this honest and manly peasant, “that he is a villain; but at the same time, Shawn, you must remember that I am not a tory, and that I will neither aid nor assist you in your designs of murdher upon him.  I received betther principles from my father and the mother who bore me; and indeed I think the same thing may be said of yourself, Shawn.  Still and all, there is no doubt but that, unlike that self-willed brother of mine, you had heavy provocation to join the life you did.”

“Well, Barney,” replied Shawn, in a melancholy tone of voice, “if the same oppressions were to come on us again, I think I would take another course.  My die, however, is cast, and I must abide by it.  What I wanted to say to you, however, is this:—­You are livin’ in the same house with Woodward; keep your eye on him—­watch him well and closely; he is plotting evil for somebody.”