"At last the stir came to Sir Patrick's ears; and when he found out that Miss Una was missing, he raved like a madman about the house, declaring and swearing that he would never see her face again. At last he went down to the stable for his own horse, to follow the runaways,—alas! alas! just in time to see the chestnut rush home covered with sweat and dirt, the saddle turned half round, but no Miss Una."
"They followed the track of the mare in the road till they found the poor girl lying by the way-side, all torn and disfigured by having been dragged over the rocky roads. At first they thought she was dead; but as they lifted her to lay her on a turfy bank under a tree, she just opened her eyes, and, seeing her father standing over her, she said, faintly,—"
"'Papa, Martin was not to blame.'"
"I'm glad she said that, anyway," said Nelly, who was crying heartily over the story.
"It was the last word she ever spoke," continued granny, wiping her own eyes. "They made a litter to carry her home, but she breathed out her life there, under the great ash that is called Miss Una's tree to this day; and it was only her bleeding and mangled body that was carried home to the great house."
"Sir Patrick was like one out of his mind, with grief and rage. He cursed Martin so, it was awful to hear him; and not only that, but he turned him and his wife away, and drove the whole family off his land, where they had lived for generations,—since the flood, for aught I know,—to wander where they would. He declared the mare should be starved.* But Martin saved him from that sin; for he just took a pistol and shot her dead before his master's face."
"So you see, honey," concluded the old woman, "it would have been far better for Martin to have done his duty, leaving the consequences to take care of themselves. He was a broken man ever after, and never could sleep without dreaming it all over again. And, my dear, take my advice, and always do the straight thing and the open thing, even if it should seem to be the greatest risk in the world, and you be ever so much blamed. The blessing of God shines on the straight path."
"And that's true," said Nelly, drawing a long breath, as if relieved of a heavy weight; "and I'll do it, too, cost what it may. Thank you, granny, for telling me the story."
* A fact.