Sarah thought he was unnecessarily tame on the occasion, and that her prophecy ought not to have been listened to in silence.  The utter absence of all fear, however, on the part of the elder female, joined to the extraordinary union of determination and indifference with which she spoke, had something morally impressive in it; and Sarah, who felt, besides, that there seemed a kind of mystery in the words of the denunciation, resolved to let the matter rest between them, at least for the present.

A silence of some time now ensued, during which she looked from the one to the other with an aspect of uncertainty.  At length, she burst into a hearty laugh—­

“Ha, ha, ha!—­well,” said she, “it’s a good joke at any rate to see my father bate with his own weapons.  Why, she has frightened you more wid her prophecy than ever you did any one wid one of your own.  Ha, ha, ha!”

To this Sally neither replied, nor seemed disposed to reply.

“Here,” added Sarah, handing her stepmother a cloth, “remimber you have to go to Darby Skinadre’s for meal.  I’d go myself, an’ save you in the journey, but that I’m afraid you might fall in love wid one another in my absence.  Be off now, you ould stepdivle, an’ get the meal; or if you’re not able to go, I will.”

After a lapse of a few minutes, the woman rose, and taking the cloth, deliberately folded it up, and asked him for money to purchase the meal she wanted.

“Here,” said he, handing her a written paper, “give him that, an’ it will do as well as money.  He expects Master Dick’s interest for Dalton’s farm, an’ I’ll engage he’ll attend to that.”

She received the paper, and looking at it, said—­

“I hope this is none of the villainy I suspect.”

“Be off,” he replied, “get what you want, and that’s all you have to do.”

“What’s come over you?” asked Sarah of her father, after the other had gone.  “Did you get afeard of her?”

“There’s something in her eye,” he replied, “that I don’t like, and that I never seen there before.”

“But,” returned the other, a good deal surprised, “what can there be in her eye that you need care about?  You have nobody’s blood on your hands, an’ you stole nothing.  What made you look afeard that time?”

“I didn’t look afeard.”

“But I say you did, an’ I was ashamed of you.”

“Well, never mind—­I may tell you something some o’ these days about that same woman.  In the meantime, I’ll throw myself on the bed, an’ take a sleep, for I slept but little last night.”

“Do so,” replied Sarah; “but at any rate, never be cowed by a woman.  Lie down, an’ I’ll go over awhile to Tom Cassidy’s.  But first, I had better make the poultice for your face, to take down the ugly swellin’.”

Having made and applied the poultice, she went off, light-hearted as a lark, leaving her worthy father to seek some rest if he could.