alton,
she was insulted and abused by women who knew her innocence and her
goodness till she met him; every tongue was against her, every hand
was against her, and every door was closed against her; no, not every
one--the young woman she spoke to, with tears in her eyes, out of
compassion for one so young and unfortunate, brought Peggy Murtagh home,
and cried with her, and gave her hope, and consoled her, and pleaded
with her father and mother for the poor deluded girl in such a way that
they forgot her misfortune and sheltered her; till, after her brother's
death, she was taken in again to her own father's house. Now, Tom,
wouldn't you like to oblige that girl who was kind to poor Peggy
Murtagh?"

"It was in Jerry Sullivan's--it was into your father's house she was
taken."

"It was Tom; and the young woman who befriended Peggy Murtagh is now
standin' by your side and asks you to let Darby Skinadre go; do, then,
let him go, for the sake of that young woman!"

Mave, on concluding, looked up into his face, and saw that his eyes were
moist; he then smiled moodily, and, placing his hand upon her head in an
approving manner, said--

"You wor always good, Mave--here, set Darby free; but my mind's uneasy;
I'm not right, I doubt:--nor as I ought to be; but I'll tell you
what--I'll go back towards home wid you, if you'll tell me more about
Peggy."

"Do so," she replied, delighted at such a proposal; "an' I will tell
you many a thing about her; an' you, Darby," she added, turning round
to that individual--short, however, as the time was, the exulting, but
still trembling usurer was making his way, at full speed, towards his
own house; so that she was spared the trouble of advising him, as she
had intended, to look to his safety as well as he could. Such was the
gentle power with which Mave softened and subdued this ferocious and
unsettled young man to her wishes; and, indeed, so forcible in general
was her firm but serene enthusiasm, that wherever the necessity for
exerting it occurred, it was always crowned with success.

Thomas Dalton as might be expected, swayed by the capricious impulse of
his unhappy derangement, did not accompany her to his father's cabin.
When within a few hundred yards of it, he changed his intention, and
struck across the country like one who seemed uncertain as to the course
he should take. Of late, indeed, he rambled about, sometimes directing,
otherwise associating himself with, such mobs as w