He then rang for some one-else, and our friends withdrew, impressed with a grateful sense of his integrity and justice.

CHAPTER XXXII. —­ Conclusion.

The interest excited by the trial, involving as it did so much that concerned the Sullivans, especially the hopes and affections of their daughter Mave, naturally induced them—­though not on this latter account—­young and old, to attend the assizes, not excepting Mave herself; for her father, much against her inclination, had made a point to bring her with them.  On finding, however, how matters turned out, a perfect and hearty reconciliation took place between the two families, in the course of which Mave and the Prophet’s wife once more renewed their acquaintance.  Some necessary and brief explanation took place, in the course of which allusion was made to Sarah and her state of health.

“I hope,” said Mave, “you will lose no time in goin’ to see her.  I know her affectionate heart; an’ that when she hears an’ feels that she has a mother alive an’ well, an’ that loves her as she ought to be loved, it will put new life into her.”

“She is a fine lookin’ girl,” replied her mother, “an’ while I was spakin’ to her, I felt my heart warm to her sure enough; but she’s a wild crature, they say.”

“Hasty a little,” said Mave; “but then such a heart as she has.  You ought to go see her at wanst.”

“I would, dear, an’ my heart is longin’ to see her; but I think it’s betther that I should not till afther his thrial to-morrow.  I’m to be a witness against the unfortunate man.”

“Against her father!—­against your own husband!” exclaimed Mave, looking aghast at this information.

“Yes, dear; for it was my brother he murdhered an’ he must take the consequences, if he was my husband and her father ten times over.  My brother’s blood mustn’t pass for nothin’.  Besides, the hand o’ God is in it, an’ I must do my duty.”

The heart of the gentle and heroic Mave, which could encounter contagion and death, from a principle of unconscious magnanimity and affection, that deserved a garland, now shrunk back with pain at the sentiments so coolly expressed by Sarah’s mother.  She thought for a moment of young Dalton, and that if she were called upon to prosecute him,—­but she hastily put the fearful hypothesis aside, and was about to bid her acquaintance good-bye, when the latter said: 

“To-morrow, or rather the day afther, I’d wish to see her for then I’ll know what will happen to him, an’ how to act with her; an’ if you’d come with me, I’d be glad of it, an’ you’d oblige me.”

Mave’s gentle and affectionate spirit was disquieted within her by what she had already heard; but a moment’s reflection convinced her that her presence on the occasion might be serviceable to Sarah, whose excitable temperament and delicate state of health required gentle and judicious treatment.