gences. With as little
delay, therefore, as might be, they sought their humble cabin, where
a scene awaited them that was calculated to dash with sorrow the
sentiments of justifiable exultation which they felt.

Our readers may remember that owing to Sarah's illness, the Prophet,
as an after thought, had determined to give to the abduction of Mave
Sullivan the color of a famine outrage; and for this purpose he had
resolved also to engage Thomas Dalton to act as a kind of leader--a
circumstance which he hoped would change the character of the
proceedings altogether to one of wild and licentious revenge on the part
of Dalton. Poor Dalton lent himself to this, as far as its aspect of a
mere outbreak had attractions for the melancholy love of turbulence, by
which he had been of late unhappily animated. He accordingly left home
with the intention of taking a part in their proceedings; but he never
joined them. Where he had gone to, or how he had passed the night,
nobody knew. Be this as it may, he made his appearance at home about
noon on the day of his father's trial, in evidently a dying state, and
in this condition his family found him on their return. 'Tis true they
had the consolation of perceiving that he was calmer and more collected
than he had been since the death of Peggy Murtagh. His reason, indeed,
might be said to have been altogether restored.

They found him sitting in his father's arm chair, his head
supported--oh, how tenderly supported!--by his affectionate sister,
Mary.

Mrs. Dalton herself had come before, to break the joyful tidings to
this excellent girl, who, on seeing her, burst into tears, exclaiming in
Irish--

"Mother, dear, I'm afraid you're bringing a heavy heart to a house of
sorrow!"

"A light heart, dear Mary--a light and a grateful heart. Your father,
_acushla machree_--your father, my dear, unhappy Tom, is not a
murderer."

The girl had one arm around her brother's neck, but she instinctively
raised the other, as if in ecstatic delight, but in a moment she dropped
it again, and said sorrowfully--

"Ay; but, mother dear, didn't he say himself he was guilty?"

"He thought so, dear; but it was only a rash blow; and oh, how many a
deadly accident has come from harsh blows! The man was not killed at
all, dear Mary, but is alive and well, and was in the court-house this
day. Oh! what do we not owe to a good God for His mercy towards us all?
Tom, dear, I am glad to see you at home; you m