“Why, where the dickens are you goin' then?” he asked.
“To Barny Gorrnly's wake; there 'ill be lots of fun there, too,” she replied. “But come—you can come wid me as far as the turn-up to the house; for I won't go in, nor go home neither, till afther the berril, tomorrow.”
“Do you know,” said he, rather gravely, “the Grey Stone that's at the mouth of the Black Glen?”
“I ought,” said she; “sure that's where the carman was found murdhered.”
“The same,” added Hanlon. “Well, I must go that far to-night,” said he.
“And that's jist where I turn off to the Gormly's.”
“So far, then, we'll be together,” he replied.
“But why that far only, Charley—eh?”
“That's what you could never guess,” said he, “and very few else aither; but go I must, an' go I will. At all events, I'll be company for you in passin' it. Are you never afeard at night, as you go near it?”
“Divil a taste,” she replied; “what 'ud I be afeard of? my father laughs at sich things; although,” she added, musing, “I think he's sometimes timorous for all that. But I know he's often out at all hours, and he says he doesn't care about ghosts—I know I don't.”