es them with her
singing from her mother, who was my dear companion before this trouble
rose."

"Oh! she looks like--like--like the _gruagach_ girl in the story," said
Gilian, remembering the tale of the sea-maiden who sat on the shore and
dressed her hair with a comb of gold.

"I hope she's not so uncanny," said Miss Mary with a laugh, "for the
_gruagach_ combed till a sweetheart came (that I should be talking of
such daft-like things!), and he was drowned and that was the end of
him."

"Still--still," said Gilian, "the _gruagach_ was worth the drowning
for."

Miss Mary looked at him with a sigh for a spirit so much to be envied.

"This may be but a chapter in a very old tale," said she. "It was with
a lass the feud came in." A saying full of mystery to the boy. Then she
changed the conversation back to her own affairs. "We'll take a walk out
in the gloaming and see all the Sheriff's friends," said she, "and
all the Sheriff's friends in this supper are Turner's friends and the
Paymaster's enemies."

The night of the Sheriff's supper party came with heavy showers and a
sky swept by clouds that let through glimpse of moon nor star. The town
lay in pitch darkness, all silent except for the plash of the sea upon
the shore or its long roll on the Ramparts. A deserted and wind-swept
street, its white walls streaming with waters, its outer shutters on the
ground fiats barred to darkness, its gutters running over--it was the
last night on which any one with finery and a notion for comfort would
choose for going abroad to parties. Miss Mary, sitting high at her
parlour window with Gilian, looked out through the blurred pane with
satisfaction upon all this inclemency.

"Faith," said she, "I wish them joy of their party whoever they be
that share it!" Then all at once her mood changed to one of pity as the
solitary street showed a moving light upon its footway. "Oh!" she cried.
"There's Donacha Breck's lantern and his wife will be with him. And
to-day she was at me for my jelly for a cold! I wish--I wish she was not
over the door this night; it will be the death of her. To-morrow I must
send her over the last of my Ladyfield honey."

From the window and in the darkness of the night, it was impossible to
tell who were for the Sheriffs party, so Miss Mary in the excess of her
curiosity must be out after a time and into the dripping darkness, with
Gilian by her side for companionship. It was an adventure altogether to
his