A pretty trudge I shall have to the Grange, such a vile and tempestuous night; but you shall suffer for it, I say again." Donnel Dhu was not merely disappointed at finding Sarah in such a situation; he was literally stupefied with amazement, and could scarcely believe the circumstances to be real.

It had been agreed between him and Henderson, that should the latter succeed in fetching Mave Sullivan as far as the Grey Stone, he (the Prophet) should be considered to have fulfilled the conditions of the compact entered into between them, and the wages of his iniquity were to have been paid to him on that spot.

It is unnecessary to say, therefore, that his disappointment and indignation were fully equal to those of Henderson himself.
"Where am I to go now ?" asked the driver.
"To hell!" replied the Prophet, "an you may bring your fare with you." "You must take the reins yourself, then," replied the man, "for I don't know the way." "Drive across the river, here then," continued the other, "and up the little road to the cottage on the right; yes, to the right--till we get that--that--I can't find words to name her--in the house." A few minutes brought them to the door, and poor Sarah found herself once more in her own cabin, but in such a state as neutralized most of her father's resentment.

When the driver had gone, Donnel came in again, and was about to wreak upon her one of those fits of impetuous fury, in which, it was true, he seldom indulged, but which, when wrought to a high state of passion, were indeed frightful.
"Now," he began, "in the name of all that's"-- he paused, however, for on looking closely at her, there appeared something in her aspect so utterly subversive of resentment, that he felt himself disarmed at once.
Her face was as pale as his own, but the expression of it was so chaste, so mournful, and yet so beautiful, that his tongue refused its office.
"Sarah," said he, "what is the matter with, you ?--account for all this--I don't understand it." She rose with great difficulty, and, tottering over towards him, laid her head upon his bosom, and looking up with a smile of melancholy tenderness into his face, burst into tears.
"Father," said she, "it is not worth your while to be angry with Sarah now.

I heard words from your lips this night that would make me forgive you a thousand crimes.