“Oh, no, sir: that would not do. What would folk say to see me walking with a gentleman like you?” The answer was conclusive. I shrugged my shoulders because I was a man, and had a man’s petulance under disappointment; and then I took off my hat and bowed—not ironically, but cheerfully, so as to set her at ease—for I had the good fortune to have been bred a gentleman. My reward came when she held out her hand frankly and said:—
“Good-bye, sir,” gave a little graceful curtsey, and tripped away over the edge of the hill.
I stood bareheaded looking at her until she disappeared. Then I went to the edge of the little plateau and looked over the distant prospect of land and sea, with a heart so full that the tears rushed to my eyes. There are those who hold that any good emotion is an act of prayer! If this be so, then on that wild mountain-top as fervent a prayer as the heart of man is capable of went up to the Giver of all good things!
When I reached the foot of the mountain I found Dick and Andy waiting for me at the sheebeen. As I came close Dick called out:—
“What a time you were, old chap. I thought you had taken root on the hill-top! What on earth kept you?”
“The view from the top is lovely beyond compare,” I said, as an evasive reply.
“Is what ye see there more lovelier nor what ye see at Shleenanaher?” said Andy with seeming gravity.
“Far more so!” I replied instantly and with decision.
“I tould yer ’an’r there was somethin’ worth lukin’ at,” said he. “An’ may I ask if yer ’an’r seen any bog on the mountain?”
I looked at him with a smile. I seemed to rather like his chaff now. “Begor I did, yer ’an’r,” I answered, mimicking his accent.