and, taking the candle left by her brother,
which had now burned down to the socket, stepped softly down the
stairs, to the place where the two maid-servants slept, and, having
awakened them, she made Biddy return with her and keep her company for
the remainder of the night. She did not quite tell the good-natured
girl all that had passed; she did not own that her brother had
threatened to send her to a madhouse, or that he had sworn to have her
life; but she said enough to show that he had shamefully ill-treated
her, and to convince Biddy that wherever her mistress might find a
home, it would be very unadvisable that she and Barry should continue
to live under the same roof.

Early in the morning, "Long afore the break o' day," as the song says,
Biddy got up from her hard bed on the floor of her mistress' room, and,
seeing that Anty was at last asleep, started to carry into immediate
execution the counsels she had given during the night. As she passed
the head of the stairs, she heard the loud snore of Barry, in his
drunken slumber; and, wishing that he might sleep as sound for ever and
ever, she crept down to her own domicile, and awakened her comrade.

"Whist, Judy--whist, darlint! Up wid ye, and let me out."

"And what'd you be doing out now?" yawned Judy.

"An arrand of the misthress;--shure, he used her disperate. Faix, it's
a wondher he didn't murther her outright!"

"And where are ye going now?"

"Jist down to Dunmore--to the Kellys then, avich. Asy now; I'll be
telling you all bye and bye. She must be out of this intirely."

"Is't Miss Anty? Where'd she be going thin out of this?"

"Divil a matther where! He'd murther her, the ruffian 'av he cotched
her another night in his dhrunkenness. We must git her out before he
sleeps hisself right. But hurry now, I'll be telling you all when I'm
back again."

The two crept off to the back door together, and, Judy having opened
it, Biddy sallied out, on her important and good-natured mission. It
was still dark, though the morning was beginning to break, as she
stood, panting, at the front door of the inn. She tried to get in at
the back, but the yard gates were fastened; and Jack, the ostler, did
not seem to be about yet. So she gave a timid, modest knock, with the
iron knocker, on the front door. A pause, and then a second knock, a
little louder; another pause, and then a third; and then, as no one
came, she remembered the importance of her message, and gave s