to lay upon you, when everything's taken into account; but
if you wouldn't do this for me, who would you do it for? Before heaven,
John, I dread a meetin' between you an' my brother, afther what he tould
me; an' the only way of preventin' danger is for you not to strike him.
Oh, little you know what I have suffered these two days for both your
sakes! Lamh Laudher Oge, I doubt it would be well for me if I had never
seen your face."

"Anything undher heaven but what you want me to do, Ellen."

"Oh! don't refuse me this, John. I ask it, as I said, for both your
sake, an' for my own sake. Meehaul wouldn't strike an unresistin' man.
I won't lave you till you promise; an' if that won't do, I'll go down on
my. knees an' ask you for the sake of heaven above, to be guided by me
in this."

"Ellen, I'll lave the country to avoid him, if that'll plase you."

"No--no--no, John: that doesn't plase me. Is it to lave your father
an' family, an' you the staff of their support? Oh, John, give me your
promise. Here on my two knees I ask it from you, for my own, for your
own, and for the sake of God above us! I know Meehaul. If he got a blow
from you on my account, he'd never forgive it to either you or me."

She joined her hands in supplication to him as she knelt, and the tears
chased each other like rain down her cheeks. The solemnity with which
she insisted on gaining her point staggered Lamh Laudher not a little.

"There must be something undher this," he replied, "that makes you set
your heart on it so much. Ellen, tell me the truth; what is it?"

"If I loved you less, John, an' my brother too, I wouldn't care so much
about it. Remember that I'm a woman, an' on my knees before you. A
blow from you would make him take your life or mine, sooner than that I
should become your wife. You ought to know his temper."

"You know, Ellen, I can't at heart refuse you any thing. I will not
strike your brother."

"You promise, before God, that no provocation will make you strike him."

"That's hard, Ellen; but--well, I do; before God, I won't--an' it's for
your sake I say it. Now, get up, dear, get up. You have got me to do
what no mortal livin' could bring me to but yourself. I suppose that's
what made you send Nanse M'Collum for my staff?"

"Nancy M'Collum! When?"

"Why, a while ago. She tould me a quare enough story, or rather no story
at all, only that you couldn't come, an' you could come, an' I was to
give up my staff to her by