We have said that this woman was a poor passive creature, whose life was a mere round of almost mechanical action.  This, to be sure, so far as regarded her own domestic duties, and in general every matter in which her husband’s opinions and her own could clash, was perfectly true.  She was naturally devoid, however, of neither heart nor intellect, when any of her fellow-creatures happened to come within the range of her husband’s enmity or vengeance, as well as upon other occasions too, and it was well known that she had given strong proofs of this.  Her life in general appeared to be one long lull, but, notwithstanding its quietude, there was, under circumstances of crime or danger, the brooding storm ready to start up into action.

“Sir,” said she, on returning into the house, “I’m a plain and ignorant woman, so that you needn’t feel surprised or alarmed at anything I am goin’ to say.  I hope you will pardon me, sir, when I ax if you seen my husband before, or if you know him either more or less?”

M’Carthy did feel surprised, and replied in the negative to both points of her question—­“I do not know your husband,” he said, “nor have I to my knowledge ever seen him until to-night; may I beg to inquire why you ask?”

“It’s not worth your while,” she replied, “it was a mere thought that came into my head:  but you and Mogue Moylan never had a dispute, sir?”

“Why, what can put such a notion into your head, my good woman?  Certainly not.  Mogue and I have been always on the best of terms.”

She paused again for some minutes, after which, she said, in a voice not audible.

“There’s something in the wind for all that.

“Sir.” she proceeded, “you’ll think me odd, but will you let me ax if you wor ever threatened or put on your guard, of if you know of any enemy you have that would wish to injure you?”

M’Carthy now started, and, looking at her with a gaze of equal curiosity and astonishment, replied, “Your language, my good woman, is beyond doubt very strange—­why do you ask me these questions?”

“Answer me first, if you plaise,” she replied.

“I have certainly been put on my guard,” he returned, “and informed that I ought to be cautious, for that I had an enemy and that danger was before me.”

“When, and in what way did this happen?”

“I shall make no further communication on the subject,” he replied, “until you speak more plainly.”

“Then,” she proceeded, “I’m afeard there’s danger over you this night, if God hasn’t said it.”

“Not, I trust, while I am under the protection of your husband and Mogue Moylan.”

She shook her head.  “If you haven’t something better to depend upon, I wouldn’t think myself overly safe; but you didn’t answer the last question I axed you.  How wor you warned, and who warned you?”

He then gave her a brief account of the rencounter he had with the Whiteboys, and alluded to the unknown but friendly individual who had put him on his guard.