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    “Let us turn to the left here,” whispered Zopyrus, “and thus avoid passing Mardonius’ tent.”




    At first, the young man in the new place did not talk or do much. He felt that it was best for him, then, to wait and learn. He made a stud-y of the new sort of men a-bout him at that time. When it came his turn to speak, he said just what he thought on the theme that came up. His mind told him that all who paid tax-es or bore arms ought to have the right to vote. He was not a-fraid to say that, though men of more years and more fame than he took the oth-er side. He was brave, but not rash. His speech was plain, but to the point. He did not boast. He did not try to hide the fact that he was poor. There were, some-times,





    We at once proceeded, and before nightfall reached Laggy, where we were met by old Colin Dearg, a burly, bearded ruffian with a great shock of red hair, Big William McKenzie of Killcoy, a major, and Murdock McKenzie, a lieutenant in the Earl of Cromarty's Regiment, with about sixty men, and thought ourselves as safe as in the heart of France.



    “What are you doing here, Shaun-Mor?” said he, “for I know you well. I’ve often seen you down in Shark. What will your wife say when she hears of your being out so late at night, wandering about in this way. It is very disreputable, and no well brought up gander would do the like, much less a man; I am ashamed of you, Shaun-Mor.”

    “But watch him look over this way every little while, and you’ll feel that he’s got us on his mind. I think, Amos, he’s concluded we’re English boys, and, as some of these Greek sailors are apt to be hand in glove with the Turks, perhaps he may be plotting to hand us over to the enemy, expecting to profit thereby.”

    Every one knows that Sliabh-Mish, County Kerry, is haunted. The figure of a man, accompanied by a huge black dog, is frequently seen standing on a high crag, but as the traveller approaches, the forms disappear, although they rise up again before him on another crag, and so continue appearing and disappearing as he journeys on. Many travellers have seen them, but no one has ever yet been able to meet the man and the dog face to face on the mountain side, for they seem to melt away in the mist, and are seen no more on reaching the spot. It happened, once upon a time, that a man journeying alone over the mountain path, took out his snuff-box to solace himself with a pinch, and was putting it up again in his waistcoat pocket, when he heard a voice near him saying, “Not yet! not yet! I am near you, wait.”

    Mrs. Greaves frequently marvelled in secret how such a child as Trixie had ever been born of such parents--Trixie so vigorous, daring, self-willed, giving promise of a passionate, generous nature. She admired and loved her small goddaughter, and her affection for Ellen Munro, though tinged with contempt, was warm and sincere. Therefore she felt this good-bye acutely.


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