The long, slow, tortuous journey home: the men slowly following with the ghastly mute-body on the rude litter, became a living memory to her for all the remainder of her life.
She glanced down every little while at the stone-white face and shuddered as she found herself wondering if eke would ever hear his voice again or see those great blue-grey eyes flash with his fierce courage and devotion.
Once only did the lips of the wounded man move. In a moment Angela had dismounted and halted the soldiers. As she bent down over him O'Connell swooned again from pain.
The procession went on.
As they neared her brother's house, stragglers began to follow curiously. Sad looking men and weary women joined the procession wonderingly. All guessed it was some fresh outrage of the soldiers.
Little, ragged, old-young children peered down at the body on the litter and either ran away crying or joined in listlessly with the others.
It was an old story carrying back mutilated men to the village. None was surprised. It seemed to Angela that an infinity of time had passed before they entered the grounds attached to the Kingsnorth house.
She sent a man on ahead to order a room to be prepared and a doctor sent for.
As she saw her brother coming forward to meet her with knit brows and stern eyes she nerved herself to greet him.
"What is this, Angela?" he asked, looking in amazement at the strange procession.