ndeed, a dreary scene, and somehow my
companion's manner seemed coloured by its influence; for scarcely had we
entered the little valley that led to this mountain track than he became
silent and thoughtful, absorbed in reflection, and when he spoke, either
doing so at random or in a vague and almost incoherent way that showed
his ideas were wandering.

I remarked that as we stopped at a little forge shortly after daybreak,
the smith had taken the priest aside and whispered to him a few words,
at which he seemed strangely moved; and as they spoke together for some
moments in an undertone, I perceived by the man's manner and gesture, as
well as by the agitation of the good father himself, that something of
importance was being told. Without waiting to finish the little repair
to the carriage which had caused our halt, he remounted hastily, and
beckoning me to take my place, drove on at a pace that spoke of haste
and eagerness. I confess that my curiosity to know the reason was
great; but as I could not with propriety ask, nor did my companion
seem disposed to give the information, I soon relapsed into a silence
unbroken as his own, and we travelled along for some miles without
speaking. Now and then the priest would make an effort to relieve the
weariness of the way by some remark upon the scenery, or some allusion
to the wild grandeur of the pass; but it was plain he spoke only from
constraint, and that his mind was occupied on other and very different
thoughts.

It was now wearing late, and yet no trace of any house or habitation
could I see, where to rest for the night. Not wishing, however, to
interrupt the current of my friend's thoughts I maintained my silence,
straining my eyes on every side--from the dark mountains that towered
above me, to the narrow gloomy valley that lay several hundred feet
beneath our track--but all in vain. The stillness was unbroken, and not
a roof, not even a smoke-wreath, could be seen far as the view extended.
The road by which we travelled was scarped from the side of a mountain,
and for some miles pursued a gradually descending course. On suddenly
turning the angle of a rocky wall that skirted us for above a mile, we
came in sight of a long reach of the Shannon upon which the sun was now
setting in all its golden lustre. The distant shore of Munster, rich
in tillage and pasture-land, was lit up too with cornfield and green
meadow, leafy wood and blue mountain, all glowing in their bri