“She's sick.”
“Well, let her die, then; I don't care.”
“In the other things I will help you,” said Nell; “but you must clear your own way there. I can do every thing but that. I have a son myself, an' my hands is tied against blood till I find him out. I could like to see some people withered, but I can't kill.”
“Well, except her case, we understand one another. Good night, then.”
“You must work that for yourself. Good night.”
CHAPTER VI.
In the mean time a circumstance occurred which scarcely any person who heard it could at first believe. About twelve o'clock the next day the house of Lamh Laudher More was surrounded with an immense crowd, and the whole town seemed to be in a state of peculiar animation and excitement. Groups met, stood, and eagerly accosted each other upon some topic that evidently excited equal interest and astonishment.
LAMH LAUDHER OGE HAD CHALLENGED THE DEAD BOXER.
True. On that morning, at an early hour, the proscribed young man waited upon the Sovereign of the town, and requested to see him. Immediately after his encounter with the black the preceding night, and while Ellen Neil offered to compensate him for the obloquy she had brought upon his name, he formed the dreadful resolution of sending him a challenge. In very few words he stated his intention to the Sovereign, who looked upon him as insane.