as Eily's murderer. After the first extreme agitation, the lady
declared that he overrated the measure of his guilt. She reproached him
for his lack of confidence, after all the love she had showered upon
him. He clenched his hand, and she affected to fear that he intended to
strike her. At her outcry of fear he sank to her feet, lowering his
forehead to the very dust.

"There is one way left for reparation," he said. "I will give myself up.
There is peace and comfort in the thought."

He was interrupted by the entrance of Anne. Mrs. Cregan accounted for
her son's excitement by saying that he was ill. Later in the evening
they heard that the coroner had not even found anyone to identify the
body, and that the jury had returned a verdict of "Found Drowned." Some
days afterwards Hardress went shooting to the creek, and, believing that
he had killed a serving-man, fled panic-stricken back to the house. The
fellow, however, was unhurt, but his cries attracted the attention of a
stranger who had lain concealed under a bank. A party of soldiers
appeared now and fired at this unknown man, and soon he staggered and
was taken prisoner.

Mrs. Cregan came to Hardress's room with fearful tidings. Eily's dress
had been recognised, and suspicion had fallen upon Danny Mann. Hardress
told her that his former servant had left the country, but soon the
soldiers arrived at the house with the hunchback in charge. Late that
night Hardress left his bed, and entered the stable where Danny was
confined. The hunchback advanced towards him slowly, his hands wreathed
together, his jaw dropped, and his eyes filled with tears. He offered
Hardress the glove.

"I had my token surely for what I done," he said. "'Here is your
warrant,' you says. Worn't them your words?"

"But not for death," replied Hardress. "I did not say for death."

"I own you didn't," said Danny Mann. "I felt for you, an' I wouldn't
wait for you to say it. Your eye looked murder; as sure as that moon is
shinin', so sure the sign of death was on your face that time, whatever
way your words went."

Hardress gave him money, and helped him to escape, bidding him leave the
country. "If ever we should meet again on Irish soil," he said, "it must
be the death of either."

The exertions for Danny Mann's recapture proved unavailing, and in a few
weeks the affair had begun to grow unfamiliar to the tongues and
recollections of the people. Hardress's depression reached an unbearable