that night, nor until two hours afther the next mid- night, whin as they were tying the ould horse and cart to the fence outside Kilmartin church, thin they heard him singing. He was sitting on the wall, chant- ing at the top of his woice a sthrange, wild song, and houlding in his hand a silver-covered noggin. On a fallen tombstone near by lay a white cloth, glimmer- ing in the moonlight, and on the cloth was spread as fine a supper as heart could wish.
So beside the white rows of silent tombs, under the elm-trees and willows, they ate their fill, and Darby would have ate more if close to them they hadn’t heard a long, deep sigh, and caught a glimpse of a tall man, gliding like a shadow into the shadows that hung around the O’Briens’ family vault.
At the same time, standing on the top of the stile which led into the graveyard, a woman’s form was seen wavering in the moonlight.
They watched her coming down the walk betwixt the tombs, her hand on her breast, clutching tight the cloak. Now and thin she’d stand, looking about the while, and shivering in mortal terror at the cry of the owls, and thin she’d flit on and be lost in the
shadows; and thin they’d see her run out into the
