an' that will, too, if anything's wrong wid you. It was
cruel in you, Jerry, to spake to; her so harsh as you did, an' to take
her to task before a sthranger in such a cuttin' manner. Saiver of
Airth, Mave, darlin', won't you spake to me, to your own mother?"'

"Maybe I did spake to her too severely," said the father, now relenting,
"an' if I did, may God forgive me; for sure you know, Bridget, I
wouldn't injure a hair of my darlin's head. But this blood! this blood!
oh, where did it come from?"

Her weakness, however, proved of but short duration, and their
apprehension was soon calmed. Mave looked around her rather wildly, and
no sooner had her eyes rested on Donnel Dhu than she shrieked aloud, and
turning her face away from him, with something akin to fear and horror,
she flung herself into her mother's arms, exclaiming, as she hid her
face in her bosom: "Oh save me from that man; don't let! him near me;
don't let him touch me. I can't tell why, but I'm deadly afraid of him.
What blood is that upon his face? Father, stand between us!"

"Foolish girl!" exclaimed her father, "you don't know what you're
sayin'. Of coorse, Donnel, you'll not heed her words for, indeed, she
hasn't come to herself yet. But, in God's name, where did this blood
come from that's upon you and her?"

"You can't suppose, Jerry," said Donnel, "that the poor girl's words
would make me take any notice of them. She has been too much frightened,
and won't know, maybe in a few minutes, that she spoke them at all."

"That's thrue," said her mother; "but with regard to the blood----"

She was about to proceed, when Mave rose up, and requested to be taken
out of the room.

"Bring me to the kitchen," said she, "I'm afraid; and see this blood,
mother."

Precisely as she spoke, a few drops of blood fell from her nose, which,
of course, accounted for its appearance on Donnel's face, and probably
for her terror also at his repulsive aspect.

"What makes you afeard of poor Donnel, asthore?" asked her mother--"a
man that wouldn't injure a hair of your head, nor of one belongin' to
you, an' never did."

"Why, when my father," she returned, "spoke about the coat there, an'
just as Donnel started, I looked at it, an' seen it movin', I don't know
why, but I got afeard of him."

Sullivan held up the candle mechanically, as she spoke, towards the
coat, upon which they all naturally gazed; but, whether from its dim
flickering light, or the force of imagin