So I crawled on, and presently came to a place where I could stand upright, and crept close under the corner of the upright stones that flanked the great hearth.
The mystery of the light and voices was soon explained.

About a dozen men were assembled in the kitchen, lit up by the glare of a common candle, engaged in earnest consultation.

Among the few faces which the light revealed to me I recognised some of my old foes of the secret society, and in the voices of others whose faces were hidden I recognised more.
The subject under discussion was twofold, and as its meaning gradually dawned on me I felt no compunction in listening.
The first matter was a letter, which had evidently been read before I arrived, from the leaders of the United Irishmen in Dublin, calling for a return of the members and officers and arms in each district.

From what I could gather, Donegal was not a hopeful region.

It numbered, indeed, a few branches of the society scattered up and down the county like that now in session, and was supposed to possess a few arms, and to be able when called upon to put into the field a few drilled men; but compared with other districts it was ineffective, and more given over to smuggling and unorganised raids than to disciplined work for the cause of Irish liberty.
This, as far as I could gather, was the subject of the somewhat upbraiding letter which had arrived from headquarters.
"Arrah, thin, and it's the truth they're spakin'," said one voice, "and we'll need to be moving." "Move, is it?
How'll you move when only the half of yez--and that's some of yez as are not here the night--come to the meetings?
Sure we could move fast enough if all the boys that's sworn would jine us." "Anyhow, here's the paper.