The girl spoke not, but the black prophet, struck by the words and the unexpected appearance of the murdered man’s coat, started; in a moment, however, he composed himself, and calmly turned his eyes upon Sullivan, who proceeded to address his daughter.

“You have nothing to say, then?  You’re guilty, an’ of coorse you have no excuse to make; however, I’ll soon put an end to all this.  Bring me a prayerbook.  If your book oath can bind you down against ever——­”

He could proceed no further.  On uttering the last words, his daughter tottered, and would have fallen to the ground, had not Donnel Dhu caught her in his arms.  She had, in fact, become almost insensible from excess of shame and over excitement, and, as Donnel carried her towards a bed that was in the corner of the room, her head lay over against his face.

It is unnecessary to say that Sullivan’s indignation was immediately lost in alarm.  On bringing the candle near her, the first thing they observed were streaks of blood upon Donnel Dhu’s face, that gave to it, in connection with the mark of the blow he had received, a frightful and hideous expression.

“What is this?” exclaimed her mother, seizing the candle and holding it to the beautiful features of her trembling daughter, which were now also dabbled with blood.  “In God’s name, what ails my child?  O Mave, Mave, my darlin’, what’s come over you?  Blessed mother of marcy, what blood is this? Achora, machree, Mave, spake to! me—­to the mother that ’ud go distracted, an’ that will, too, if anything’s wrong wid you.  It was cruel in you, Jerry, to spake to; her so harsh as you did, an’ to take her to task before a sthranger in such a cuttin’ manner.  Saiver of Airth, Mave, darlin’, won’t you spake to me, to your own mother?"’

“Maybe I did spake to her too severely,” said the father, now relenting, “an’ if I did, may God forgive me; for sure you know, Bridget, I wouldn’t injure a hair of my darlin’s head.  But this blood! this blood! oh, where did it come from?”

Her weakness, however, proved of but short duration, and their apprehension was soon calmed.  Mave looked around her rather wildly, and no sooner had her eyes rested on Donnel Dhu than she shrieked aloud, and turning her face away from him, with something akin to fear and horror, she flung herself into her mother’s arms, exclaiming, as she hid her face in her bosom:  “Oh save me from that man; don’t let! him near me; don’t let him touch me.  I can’t tell why, but I’m deadly afraid of him.  What blood is that upon his face?  Father, stand between us!”

“Foolish girl!” exclaimed her father, “you don’t know what you’re sayin’.  Of coorse, Donnel, you’ll not heed her words for, indeed, she hasn’t come to herself yet.  But, in God’s name, where did this blood come from that’s upon you and her?”

“You can’t suppose, Jerry,” said Donnel, “that the poor girl’s words would make me take any notice of them.  She has been too much frightened, and won’t know, maybe in a few minutes, that she spoke them at all.”