s true," said his companion; "it must be natural to be afraid,
or why would they indeed?--but some people are naturally more timersome
than others."

"I intinded to go home for my other clo'es an' linen this evenin',"
observed Bartle, "but I won't go out to-night."

"I must thin," said Connor; "an, with the blessin' o' God, will too;
come what may."

"Why, what is there to bring you out, if it's a fair question to ax?"
inquired the other.

"A promise, for one thing; an' my own inclination--my own heart--that's
nearer the thruth--for another. It's the first meetin' that I an' her
I'm goin' to ever had."

"_Thigham, Thighum_, I undherstand," said Flanagan; "well, I'll stay at
home; but, sure it's no harm to wish you success--an' that, Connor, is
more than I'll ever have where I wish for it most."

This closed their dialogue, and both entered Fardorougha's house in
silence.

Up until twilight, the darkness of the dull and heavy sky was unbroken;
but towards the west there was seen a streak whose color could not be
determined as that of blood or fire. By its angry look, it seemed as if
the sky in that quarter were about to burst forth in one awful sweep of
conflagration. Connor observed it, and very correctly anticipated the
nature and consequences of its appearance; but what will not youthful
love dare and overcome? With an undismayed heart he set forward on his
journey, which we leave him to pursue, and beg permission, meanwhile, to
transport the reader to a scene distant about two miles farther towards
the--inland part of the country.

PART II.

The dwelling of Bodagh Buie O'Brien, to which Connor is now directing
his steps, was a favorable specimen of that better class of farm-houses
inhabited by our most extensive and wealthy agriculturists. It was a
large, whitewashed, ornamentally thatched building, that told by its
external aspect of the good living, extensive comforts, and substantial
opulence which prevailed within. Stretched before its hall-door was a
small lawn, bounded on the left by a wall that separated it from the
farm-yard into which the kitchen door opened. Here were stacks of hay,
oats, and wheat, all upon an immense scale, both as to size and number;
together with threshing and winnowing machines, improved ploughs, carts,
cars, and all the other modern implements of an extensive farm. Very
cheering, indeed, was the din of industry that arose from the clank of
machinery, the grunting o