She was preparing to ask further questions; but this direction seemed definite enough, so I thanked her and fled, and Betty and I proceeded to take a step up the lane. We took many steps without seeing any stones; and finally we turned up a narrow by-lane, and came to a tiny cottage, hidden in the trees. We were greeted by a noisy barking, and then a man hurried out of the cottage and quieted the dog and told us not to be alarmed. We told him we were looking for the stones.
"There be some just a small step from here," he said; "but you would never find them by yourselves, so I will go with you. You are from America, I'm thinking?"
"Yes," I admitted, wondering, with sinking heart, if it was going to begin all over again.
"I have four brothers in America, and all doing well, glory be to God, though seldom it is that I hear from them."
"How did you happen to stay in Ireland?" I asked.
"One must stay with the mother," he explained simply. "I was the oldest, so that was for me to do."
He was a nice-looking man of middle age, with a kindly, intelligent face, and eyes very bright; and while his clothes were old and worn, they were clean.
"She is dead now, God rest her soul," he added, with a little convulsion of the face I didn't understand till later, "and I am alone here."
"What," I said; "not married?"
"No," he answered, with a smile, "there's just Tricker and me."