“Millia diououl! woman, why do you talk about shame or disgrace comin’ upon any sister of mine?” What villain dare injure her that regards his life?  My sisther!  Ellen Neil!  No, no! the man that ’ud only think of that, I’d give this right hand a dip to the wrist in the best blood of his heart.”

“Ay, ay! it’s fine spakin’:  but you don’t know the hand you talk of.  It’s one that you had better avoid than meet.  It’s the strong hand, an’ the dangerous one when vexed.  You know Lamh Laudher Oge?”

Meelmul started again, and the crone could perceive by his manner that the nature of the communication she was about to make had been already known to him, though not, she was confident, in so dark and diabolical a shape as that in which she determined to put it.

“Lamh Laudher Oge!” he exclaimed; “surely you don’t mane to say that he has any bad design upon Ellen!  It’s not long since I gave him a caution to drop her, an’ to look out for a girl fittin’ for his station.  Ellen herself knows what he’ll get, if we ever catch him spakin’ to her again.  The day will never come that his faction and ours can be friends.”

“You did do that, Meehaul,” replied Nell, “an’ I know it; but what ’ud you think if he was so cut to the heart by your turnin’ round upon his poverty, that he swore an oath to them that I could name, bindin’ himself to bring your sister to a state of shame, in order to punish you for your words?  That ’ud be great glory over a faction that they hate.”

“Tut, woman, he daren’t swear such an oath; or, if he swore it fifty times over on his bare knees, he’d ate the stones off o’ the pavement afore he’d dare to act upon it.  In the first place, I’d prepare him for his coffin, if he did; an’ in the next, do you think so inanely of Ellen, as to believe that she would bring disgrace an’ sorrow upon herself and her family?  No, no, Nell; the old dioul’s in you, or you’re beside yourself, to think of such a story.  I’ve warned her against him, and so did we all; an’ I’m sartin’ this minute, that she’d not go a single foot to change words with him, unknownst to her friends.”

The old woman’s face changed from the expression of anxiety and importance that it bore, to one of coarse glee, under which, to those who had penetration sufficient to detect it, lurked a spirit of hardened and reckless ferocity.

“Well, well,” she replied, “sure I’m proud to hear what you tell me.  How is poor Nanse M’Collum doin’ wid yez? for I hadn’t time to see her a while agone.  I hope she’ll never be ashamed or afraid of her aunt, any how.  I may say, I’m all that’s left to the good of her name, poor girshah.”

“What ‘ud ail her?” replied Meehaul; “as long a’ she’s honest an’ behaves herself, there’s no fear of her.  Had you nothing elsa to say to me, Nell?”