"Come,
Feemy," said he, still unaware of Thady being near, "come; this is
nonsense--hurry, there's a love. Come, Feemy, stand, can't you?"

When Thady had first come out of the house, it had merely been for
the purpose of going into the stable, as was his practice, to see the
two farm horses fed; as he returned, he caught the sound of Ussher's
gig; but it was more for the purpose of smoking his pipe in the open
air than from any curiosity that he lingered out of doors. When,
however, the vehicle stopped at Ballycloran gate, and he heard the
whistle twice repeated, his interest was excited, and he thought that
something was not right. He then heard Ussher's footsteps up the
avenue, and he fancied he could hear him speak; but he had no idea
who he was; nor had he the slightest suspicion that his sister was so
near him.

But when Ussher stopped, Thady gently came down the avenue
unperceived; he saw him stoop, and lift something in his arms, but
still up to this time he had not recognised the voice. It was Thady's
idea that something had been stolen from the yard, which the thief
was now removing, under cover of the darkness. By degrees, as he got
nearer, he perceived it was a woman's form that the man was half
dragging, half carrying, and then he heard Ussher's voice say loudly,
and somewhat angrily, "This is d----d nonsense, Feemy! you know you
must come now."

These were the last words he ever uttered. Thady was soon close to
him, and with the heavy stick he always carried in his hand, he
struck him violently upon the head. Ussher, when he had heard the
footsteps immediately behind him, dropped Feemy, who was still
insensible, upon the path; but he could not do so quick enough to
prevent the stunning blow which brought him on his knees. His hat
partially saved him, and he was on the point of rising, when Thady
again struck him with all his power; this time the heavy bludgeon
came down on his bare temple, and the young man fell, never to rise
again. He neither moved nor groaned; the force of the blow, and the
great weight of the stick falling on his uncovered head as he was
rising, had shattered his brains, and he lay as dead as though he had
been struck down by a thunder-bolt from heaven.

Though it was so dark that Thady could not see the blood he had shed,
or watch how immovable was the body of the man he had attacked, still
he knew that Ussher was no more. He had felt the skull give way
beneath the stroke; he ha