Suddenly the Colonel pulled up his horse, threw the reins to his groom, and motioned to Jacobs to follow him.

"There has been a spill," he said. "It is no sight for little girls. You'd best stay where you are, Maureen, acushla. We'll do all that human beings can, and a lot of peasants are there already."

"And do you think I am going to stay behind?" said Maureen. "Oh, there, I see her pink dress! Oh, poor step-auntie! Yes, I will go—I will! She has only fallen—she'll be all right. You can't keep me back—I will go. She may call me charity child every day of her life, but I don't mind. I'm going to her now."

The Colonel took the little hot hand. There was something impossible to resist about Maureen.

In a very few minutes they found themselves the centre of a group of rough-looking men and women.

"Ah, thin, bless yer heart, Colonel dear; ah, thin, it's the neck of her is broke entirely. See for yer-self. She was a foolish woman. The bog would have quieted the horse, and she'd have had a few minutes afore she went under; but no, she'd no sinse at all, at all, and out she lepped on to that big lot o' stones, and the neck of her was broke."

"I war the first to find her, sir," said an old peasant. "I saw at wanst she was as dead as a tenpenny nail, so I tuk her sash and made a sort o' rope wid it and pulled the poor baste ashore. He's safe enough is The O'Shee; but herself, glory be to God, she's bruk her neck! Why, Miss Maureen, I didn't see ye, me darlint; don't ye cry now!"

"I'm not going to cry," said the child. "Do turn her round very gently. Do at least try to make her look nice! Poor, poor step-auntie, poor step-auntie! Colonel, get me some water. I want to wash her face. Colonel, you must help me to tell Uncle Pat."

The amazing presence of mind of the child soothed the excited Irish folk. One after another they brought her what she required, and finally the poor body was laid on a shutter and brought into a cabin near by. It looked quite peaceful, and no one living had seen that terrible leap nor heard that most piercing shriek.

"We must leave her here at present," said the Colonel, turning to Maureen.