have dreamed that I could help her if you had not told me so."
He was quiet a little but presently spoke again.
"When they come to carry me home it may be the pain of lifting me over the wall will disorder my wits once more. So I should tell you what was to be a secret, that Mr. Ted comes home to-day. That was why I was so anxious the bad luck should be gone on this very night, and thanks to you, it is. He was not quite certain of the time and did not wish to disappoint his sister, so it was to old Michael he sent the message to be on the watch for him. We were always great friends, Mr. Ted and me, and to think that the blessed Saint Christopher has brought him home safe at last."
He must have made an effort to tell this, feeling that his senses were once more slipping from him for almost immediately he went off again into confused muttering.
"He saved my life," he said once, more clearly, "he saved my sheep, him and those great beautiful white dogs, but—" the thread of consciousness had snapped again—"they were always the hunters, those greyhounds of the King of Connemara; though they lived a thousand years ago you can hear their cry over the hills to this day!"
It was, to Betsey, a moment of great relief, when she heard feet upon the grassy pathway, saw the
