n such a position that he could see it.

The sick man turned his face round, and as his eyes met the light, there
came over his whole features a wondrous change. Livid and clammy with
the death-sweat, the rigid muscles relaxed, and in the staring eyeballs
and the parted lips there seemed a perfect paroxysm of emotion. "Is that
it?--are ye sure that's it?" cried he, in a voice to which the momentary
excitement imparted strength.

"To be sure I am; I seen Father Ned bless it himself, and sprinkle it
too!" said she.

"Oh, the heavenly--" He stopped, and in a lower voice added, "Say it for
me, Molly!--say it for me, Molly! I can't say it myself."

"Keep your eyes on the blessed candle!" said the hag, peevishly; "'t is
a quarter dollar it cost me."

"Wouldn't he come, Molly?--did he say he wouldn't come?"

"Father Ned! arrah, 'tis likely he'd come here at night, with the
Tapageers on their rounds, and nothing to give him when he kem!"

"Not to hear my last words!--not to take my confession!" cried he, in a
kind of shriek. "Oh, 'tis the black list of sins I have to own to!"

"Whisht, whisht!" cried the hag. "'T is many a year ago now; maybe it's
all forgot."

"No, it's not," cried the dying man, with a wild energy he did not seem
to have strength for. "When you wor away, Molly, he was here, standing
beside the bed."

The old hag laughed with a horrid sardonic laugh.

"Don't--don't, for the love of--ah--I can't say--I can't say it," cried
he; and the voice died away in the effort.

"What did he say to ye when he kem?" said she, in a scoffing tone.

"He never spoke a word, but he pressed back the cloth that was on his
head, and I saw the deep cut in it, down to the very face!"

"Well, I am sure it had time to heal before this time," said the woman,
with a tone of mockery that at last became palpable to the dying man.

"Where's Dan, Molly,--did he never come back since?"

"Sorra bit; he said he'd go out of the house, and never come back to
it. You frightened the boy with the terrible things you say in your
ravings."

"Oh, murther--murther! My own flesh and blood desart me!"

"Then why won't you be raisonable,--why won't you hould your peace about
what happened long agone?"

"Because I can't," said he, with a peevish eagerness. "Because I'm going
where it's all known a'ready."

"Faix, and I would n't be remindin' them, anyway!" said the hag, whose
sarcastic impiety added fresh tortures to the dying sinner.