lthough you knew the sickness was among us--well, you
know whether we that wor your friends, an'--my father at least--the
makin' of you"--and as he spoke, he accompanied every third word by
a shake or two, as a kind of running commentary upon what he said;
"ay--you did--you knew it well, and I could bear all that; but I can't
bear you to turn this unfortunate girl out of your place, widout what
she wants, and she's sinkin' wid hunger herself. If she's in distress,
'twas I that brought her to it, an' to shame an' to sorrow too--but I'll
set all right for you yet, Margaret dear--an' no one has a betther right
to spake for her."

"Tom," said the young woman, with a feeble voice, "for the love of God
let him go or he'll drop."

"Not," replied Dalton, "till he gives you what you come for. Come now,"
he proceeded, addressing the miser, "weigh her. How much will you be
able to carry, Margaret?"

"Oh, never mind, now, Tom," she replied, "I don't want any, it's the
ould people at home--it's them--it's them."

"Weigh her out," continued the other, furiously; "weigh her out a stone
of meal, or by all the lies that ever came from your lips, I'll squeeze
the breath out of your body, you deceitful ould hypocrite."

"I will," said the miser, panting, and adjusting his string of a cravat,
"I will, Tom; here, I ain't able, weigh it yourself--I'm not--indeed I'm
not able," said he, breathless; "an' I was thinkin when you came in of
sendin' afther her, bekase, when I heard of the sickness among them,
that I mayn't sin, but I found my heart bleedin' inwar--"

[Illustration: PAGE 807-- Tom's clutches were again at his throat]

Tom's clutches were again at his throat. "Another lie," he exclaimed,
"and you'r a gone man. Do what I bid you."

Skinadre appeared, in point of fact, unable to do so, and Dalton seeing
this, weighed the unhappy young woman a stone of oatmeal, which, on
finding it too heavy for her feeble strength, he was about to take up
himself when he put his hands to his temples, then staggered and fell.

They immediately gathered about him to ascertain the cause of this
sudden attack, when it appeared that he had become insensible. His brow
was now pale and cold as marble, and a slight dew lay upon his broad
forehead; his shirt was open, and exposed to view a neck and breast,
which, although sadly wasted, were of surpassing whiteness and great
manly beauty.

Margaret, on seeing him fall, instantly placed her baby i