here to bring up some
ammunition that we had secreted in one of the lead mines. Well I
recollect falling asleep beside that well, and having such a delightful
dream of home when I was a child, and of a pony which Marie used to ride
behind me; and I thought we were galloping through the vineyard, she
grasping me round the waist, half laughing, half in fear,--and when I
awoke I could not remember where I was. I should like to see that old
spot again, and I feel strong enough now to try it."

I endeavored, with all my power of persuasion, to prevent his attempting
to walk such a distance, and in the night air too; but the more I
reasoned against it, the more bent was he on the project, and at last
I was obliged to yield a reluctant consent, and assist him to rise
and dress. The energy which animated him at first soon sank under the
effort, and before we had gone a quarter of a mile he grew faint and
weary; still he persevered, and leaning heavily on my arm, he tottered
along.

"If I make no better progress," said he, smiling sadly, "there will be
no need to assist me coming back."

At last we reached the ruin, which, like many of the old churches in
Ireland, was a mere gable, overgrown with ivy, and pierced with a single
window, whose rudely-formed arch betokened great antiquity. Vestiges
of the side walls remained in part, but the inside of the building was
filled with tombstones and grave-mounds, selected by the people as being
a place of more than ordinary sanctity; among these the rank dock weeds
and nettles grew luxuriantly, and the tall grass lay heavy and matted.
We sat for some time looking on this same spot. A few garlands were
withering on some rude crosses of stick, to mark the latest of those who
sought their rest there; and upon these my companion's eyes were bent
with a melancholy meaning.

How long we sat there in silence I know not; but a rustling of the ivy
behind me was the first thing to attract my attention. I turned quickly
round, and in the window of the ruin beheld the head of a man bent
eagerly in the direction we were in; the moonlight fell upon him at the
moment, and I saw that the face was blackened.

"Who's that?" I called aloud, as with my finger I directed De Meudon to
the spot. No answer was returned, and I repeated my question yet louder;
but still no reply, while I could mark that the head was turned slightly
round, as if to speak with some one without. The noise of feet, and the
low