etch Mike Clancy; he
has more sense nor the whole o' yez put together."

Off she sped, finding her way easily, even in the dark, along the
familiar path; but when she reached the cabin, and after much knocking
succeeded in arousing Mrs. Clancy, disappointment awaited her--Mike
was nowhere to be found.

The news went round the country next morning, first that old Peter
Rorke's famous hayrick and two of the neighbouring cornstacks were
burnt to the ground, and secondly that Michael Clancy had mysteriously
disappeared. By-and-by certain additional circumstances were reported
which caused people to connect the one fact with the other, and to
comment thereon in whispers, with divers nods and winks, and
mysterious jerks of the thumb. Michael was after havin' words with the
ould fellow, it was rumoured, on account of his bein' sweet on Roseen,
an' him and his ould father and mother were goin' to be put out o'
their little place. Sure no wonder the poor boy--Well, well, he'd have
had the time to get far enough off by this, an' it was nobody's
business, on'y his own, poor fellow!

It was whispered that Jack McEvoy had seen Mike on the evening before,
standing in the corner of the haggard lookin' about him "rale
distracted, ye'd say." "What are ye doin' there at all, this time o'
night?" said Jack. "Och, nothin' much," says Mike, "just streelin'
about." "Well," says Jack, "I'm afeard ye are after gettin' poor
Roseen into throuble; there's the great blow-up entirely goin' on
beyant there at the house. The masther's murdherin' Roseen for the way
the two of yez has been goin' on. He had her crying, the poor little
girl," says Jack; "I h'ard her through the windy," says he. "'Oh,
grandfather,' she says, 'I'll never spake to Mike agin, I give ye me
word,' she says. 'I'll never ax to look at him,' says she. Well," Jack
said, "if ye'd seen the look that come over Mike's face! He staggered
back, so he did. 'The ould devil,' says he, 'he's afther gettin' round
her an' turnin' her agin me.'" "Och, to be sure," says Jack, "he's a
rale ould villain! Is it true that he's puttin' yez all out in the
road?" "He is," says Mike, "but he'll be sorry for it yet?"

"Mind that now," some one would say, and the nods and the shakings of
the heads would become more mysterious than ever, and then the gossips
would begin to chuckle over Peter's discomfiture; the universal
verdict being that "It sarved him right, the covetious ould
blackguard!" Mrs. Cl