Just then there came a sweet sound down the lane:—
"Is that you, father?"
"Yes! my child; but I hope you've not been out in the shtorm."
"Only a bit, father; I was anxious about you. Is it all right, father; did you get what you wanted?" She had jumped off the stile and had drawn nearer to us, and she evidently saw me, and went on in a changed and shyer voice:—
"Oh! I beg your pardon, I did not see you had a stranger with you."
This was all bewildering to me; I could hear it all—and a sweeter voice I never heard—but yet I felt like a blind man, for not a thing could I see, whilst each of the three others was seemingly as much at ease as in the daylight.
"This gentleman has been very kind to me, Norah. He has given me a seat on his car, and indeed he's come out of his way to lave me here."
"I am sure we're all grateful to you, sir; but, father, where is your horse? Why are you on a car at all? Father, I hope you haven't met with any accident—I have been so fearful for you all the day." This was spoken in a fainter voice; had my eyes been of service, I was sure I would have seen her grow pale.
"Yes, my darlin', I got a fall on the Curragh Hill, but I'm all right. Norah dear! Quick, quick! catch her, she's faintin'!—my God! I can't stir!"
