“It musn’t be,” said they, “for whatever was over him wid Meehaul Neil, we know now he’s no coward, an’ that’s enough.  We musn’t see him beat dead before our eyes, at all events, where is he?”

“He’s at his aunt’s,” replied the father; “undher this roof he says he will never come till his name is cleared.  Heavens above!  For him to think of fighting a man that kills every one he fights wid!”

The mother’s outcries were violent, as were those of his female relations, whilst a solemn and even mournful spirit brooded upon the countenances of his own faction.  It was resolved that his parents and friends should now wait upon, and by every argument and remonstrance in their power, endeavor to change the rashness of his purpose: 

The young man received them with a kind but somewhat sorrowful, spirit.  The father, uncovered, and with his gray locks flowing down upon his shoulders, approached him, extended his hand, and with an infirm voice said—­

“Give me your hand, John.  You’re welcome to your father’s heart an’ your father’s roof once more.”

The son put his arms across his breast, and bowed his head respectfully, but declined receiving his father’s hand.

“Not, father—­father dear—­not till my name is cleared.”

“John,” said the old man, now in tears, “will you refuse me?  You are my only son, my only child, an’ I cannot lose you.  Your name is cleared.”

“Father,” said the son, “I’ve sworn—­it’s now too late.  My heart, father, has been crushed by what has happened lately.  I found little charity among my friend’s.  I say, I cannot change my mind, for I’ve sworn to fight him.  And even if I had not sworn, I couldn’t, as a man, but do it, for he has insulted them that I love better than my own life.  I knew you would want to persuade me against what I’m doin’—­an’ that was why I bound myself this mornin’ by an oath.”

The mother, who had been detained a few minutes behind them, now entered, and on hearing that he had refused to decline the battle, exclaimed—­

“Who says that Lamh Laudher Oge won’t obey his mother?  Who dare say it?  Wasn’t he ever and always an obedient son to me an’ his father?  I won’t believe that lie of my boy, no more than I ever believed a word of’ what was sed against him. Shawn Oge aroon, you won’t refuse me, avillish.  What ’ud become of me, avich ma chree, if you fight him?  Would you have the mother’s heart broken, an’ our roof childless all out?  We lost one as it is—­the daughter of our heart is gone, an’ we don’t know how—­an’ now is your father an’ me to lie down an’ die in desolation widout a child to shed a tear over us, or to put up one prayer for our happiness?”

The young man’s eyes filled with tears; but his cheek reddened, and he dashed them hastily aside.

“No, my boy, my glorious boy, won’t refuse to save his mother’s heart from breakin’; ay, and his gray-haired father’s too—­he won’t kill us both—­my boy won’t,—­nor send us to the grave before our time!”