sht," she exclaimed, "the world an' God both know it's a lie, if you
say your heart bleeds for any thing but the destruction that you see
on your place. If you had given Peggy Murtagh the meal, she might be a
livin' woman to-day; so no more falsehoods now, or I'll turn you back to
Tom Dalton's clutches."

"No, then," replied the trembling wretch, "I won't; but between you
an' me, then,--an' it needn't go farther--troth my heart bleeds for the
severity that's--"

"One word more," she replied, "an' I lave you to what you'll get."

Sarah's interference had a singular effect upon the crowd. The
female portion of it having reflected upon her words, soon felt and
acknowledged their truth, because they involved a principle of justice
and affection to their sex; while the men, without annexing any moral
consideration to the matter, felt themselves influenced by her exquisite
figure and great beauty.

"She's the Black Prophet's daughter," exclaimed the women; "an' if the
devil was in her, she tould Tom Dalton nothing but the truth, at any
rate."

"An' they say the devil is in her, the Lord save us, if ever he was in
any one--keep away from her--my sowl in Heaven! but she'd think no more
of tearin' your eyes out, or stickin' you wid a case-knife, than you
would of aitin' bread an' butther."

"Blessed Father!" exclaimed another, "did you see the brightness of her
eyes while she was spakin?"

"No matther what she is," said a young fellow beside them; "the devil a
purtier crature ever was made; be my soul, I only wish I had a thousand
pounds, I wouldn't be long without a wife at any rate."

The crowd having wrecked Skinadre's dwelling, and carried off and
destroyed almost his whole stock of provisions, now proceeded in a
different direction, with the intention of paying a similar visit to
some similar character. Sarah and Darby--for he durst not venture, for
the present, towards his own house--now took their way to the cabin
of old Condy Dalton, where they arrived just in time to find the house
surrounded by the officers of justice, and some military.

"Ah," thought Sarah, on seeing them; "it is done, then, an' you lost but
little time about it. May God forgive you, father."

They had scarcely entered, when one of the officers pulling out a paper,
looked at it and asked, "Isn't your name Condy or Cornelius Dalton?"--

"That is my name," said the old man.

"I arrest you, then," he continued, "for the murder of one Barth