Where he had gone to, or how he had passed the night, nobody knew.

Be this as it may, he made his appearance at home about noon on the day of his father's trial, in evidently a dying state, and in this condition his family found him on their return.

'Tis true they had the consolation of perceiving that he was calmer and more collected than he had been since the death of Peggy Murtagh.

His reason, indeed, might be said to have been altogether restored.
They found him sitting in his father's arm chair, his head supported--oh, how tenderly supported!--by his affectionate sister, Mary.
Mrs.Dalton herself had come before, to break the joyful tidings to this excellent girl, who, on seeing her, burst into tears, exclaiming in Irish-- "Mother, dear, I'm afraid you're bringing a heavy heart to a house of sorrow!" "A light heart, dear Mary--a light and a grateful heart.

Your father, _acushla machree_--your father, my dear, unhappy Tom, is not a murderer." The girl had one arm around her brother's neck, but she instinctively raised the other, as if in ecstatic delight, but in a moment she dropped it again, and said sorrowfully-- "Ay; but, mother dear, didn't he say himself he was guilty ?" "He thought so, dear; but it was only a rash blow; and oh, how many a deadly accident has come from harsh blows! The man was not killed at all, dear Mary, but is alive and well, and was in the court-house this day.