“There was,” replied Mave, “and I think him a good ould man too. I don't think he would harm any one.”
“Dear Mave,” said Dalton, “I must now get home as soon as I can; I don't feel so well as I was—there is a chill upon me, and I'm afeared I won't have a comfortable night.”
“And I can do nothing for you!” added Mave, her eyes filling with tears.
“I didn't thank you for that lock of hair you sent me by Donnel Dhu,” he added. “It is here upon my heart, and I needn't say that if anything had happened me, or if anything should happen me, it an' that heart must go to dust together.”
“You are too much cast down,” she replied, her tears flowing fast, “an' it can't surely be otherwise; but, dear Con, let us hope for better days—an' put our trust in God's goodness.”
“Farewell, dear Mave,” he replied, “an may God bless and presarve you till I see you again!”
“An' may He send down aid to you all,” she added, “an' give consolation to your breakin' hearts!”
An embrace, long, tender, and mournful, accompanied their words, after which they separated in sorrow and in tears, and with but little hope of happiness on the path of life that lay before them.