somethin' to ate.
Och, bud I'm 'glad that yer returned safe!"

The overjoyed wife soon heaped fresh turf on the fire, and partly
blowing, partly fanning it into a flame, hung a large iron pot I over
it, from a hook firmly fixed in the wall. While these preparations were
going forward, Owen laid aside his rough outside coat, and going to the
door, looked out, as if in irresolution.

"Ellen," at length said he, turning suddenly round, "I'm thinkin' that
I'd betther go to the poliss barrack an' surrindher--or rather, see what
they have to say agin me; as I'm an innocent man, I've no dhread; an' if
I wait till they come an' take me, it'll look as iv I was afeard."

"Thrue for you, agra," she answered; "bud it's time enough yit a bit--no
one knows ov yer bein' here. You look slaved, an' had betther rest
yerself, an' ate a pratee or two. I have no milk ov my own to offer you
now, but I'll go an' thry an' get a dhrop from a neighbor."

When Ellen returned with a little wooden noggin full, her husband was
sitting warming his hands over the fire; and it was then she recollected
that he had not brought back the gun with him; besides, when she cast a
glance at his clothes, they were all soiled with mud and clay, and torn
in many places. But these circumstances did not for a moment operate
in her mind against him, for she knew from the very manner of his first
question, and the innocence of his exclamation, that the accusations and
suspicions were all false. Even though he had not attempted to explain
the cause of his protracted absence, she felt conscious that it was not
guilt, and forbore to ask any question about it. It was he first opened
the subject, as they sat together over their frugal meal.

"Ellen," said he, "sence I saw you last, I wint through a dale ov
hardship; an' I little thought, on my return, that I'd be accused ov so
black a crime."

"Och, shure enough, Owen darlint; but I hope it 'ill be all for the
best. I little thought I'd see the day that you'd be suspected ov
murdher."

"Well, Ellen aroon, all's in it is, it can't be helped. Bud as I was
sayin'--whin I left this, I cut acrass by Sheemus Doyle's, an' so up
into the mountain, where I knew the hares were coorsin' about in plenty.
I shot two or three ov thim; an' as night began to fall, I was thinkin'
ov comin' home, whin I heerd the barkin' ov a dog a little farther up,
in the wild part, where I never ventured afore. I dunna what prompted me
to folly