his hold upon the
other for the purpose of defending himself.

"Who is this?" said he; "let me go, you had better, till I have his
life--let me go, I say."

"It's one," she replied, "that's not afeard but ashamed of you. You, a
young man, to go strangle a weak, helpless ould creature, that hasn't
strength or breath to defend himself no more then a child."

"Didn't he starve Peggy Murtagh?" replied Tom; "ha, ha, ha!--didn't he
starve her and her child?"

"No," she replied aloud, and with glowing cheeks; "it's false--it wasn't
he but yourself that starved her and her child. Who deserted her--who
brought her to shame, an' to sorrow, in her own heart an' in the eyes
of the world? Who left her to the bitter and vile tongues of the whole
counthry? Who refused to marry her, and kept her so that she couldn't
raise her face before her fellow cratures? Who sent her, without hope,
or any expectation of happiness in this life--this miserable life--to
the glens and lonely ditches about the neighborhood, where she did
nothing but shed blither tears of despair and shame at the heartless
lot you brought her to? An' when she was desarted by the wide world, an'
hadn't a friendly face to look to but God's, an' when one kind word from
your lips would give her hope, an' comfort, an' happiness, where were
you? and where was that kind word that would have saved her? Let the
old man go, you unmanly coward; it wasn't him that starved her--it was
yourself that starved her, and broke her heart!"

"Did yez hear that?" said Dalton; "ha, ha, ha--an' it's all thrue; she
has tould me nothing but the thruth--here, then, take the ould vagabond
away with you, and do what you like with him--"

"'I am a bold and rambling boy,
My lodging's in the isle of Throy;
A rambling boy, although I be,
I'd lave them all an' folly thee.'

Ha, ha, ha!--but come, boys, pull away; we'll finish the wreck of this
house, at any rate."

"Wreck away," said Sarah, "I have nothin' to do with that; but I think
them women--man-women I ought to call them--might consider that there's
many a starvin' mouth that would be glad to have a little of what
they're throwin' about so shamefully. Do you come with me, Darby; I'll
save you as far as I can, an' as long as I'm able."

"I will, achora," replied Darby, "an' may God bless you, for you have
saved my life; but why should they attack me? Sure the world knows, an'
God knows, that my heart bleeds--"

"Whi