“Young man,” said Fardorougha, “you carry a blessin' wid you wherever you go, an' may God bless you for the news you have brought to us this day! I'll go to see him tomorrow, an' wid a light heart I'll go too, for my son is not to die.” O'Brien then took his leave and returned home, pondering, as he went, upon the singular contrast which existed between the character of the miser and that of his admirable wife. He was no sooner gone than Honor addressed her husband as follows: “Fardorougha, what do you think we ought both to do now afther the happy news we've heard?” “I'll be guided by you, Honor; I'll be guided by you.” “Then,” said she, “go an' thank God that has taken the edge, the bitther, keen edge off of our sufferin'; an' the best way, in my opinion, for you to do it, is to go to the barn by yourself, an' strive to put your whole heart into your prayers. You'll pray betther by yourself than wid me. An' in the name of God I'll do the same as well as I can in the house here. To-morrow, too, is Friday, an', plaise our Saviour, we'll both fast in honor of His goodness to us an' to our son.” “We will, Honor,” said he, “we will, indeed; for now I have spirits to fast, and spirits to pray, too. What will I say, now? Will I say the five Decades or the whole Rosary?” “If you can keep your mind in the prayers, I think you ought to say the whole of it; but if you wandher don't say more than the five.” Fardorougha then went to the bam, rather because his wife desired him, than from a higher motive, whilst she withdrew to her own apartment, there humbly to worship God in thanksgiving. The next day had made the commutation of Connor's punishment a matter of notoriety through the whole parish, and very sincere indeed was the gratification it conveyed to all who heard it. Public fame, it is true, took her usual liberties with the facts. Some said he had got a free pardon, others that he was to be liberated after six months' imprisonment; and a third report asserted that the lord lieutenant sent him down a hundred pounds to fit him out for marriage with Una; and it further added that his excellency wrote a letter with his own hand, to Bodagh Buie, desiring him to give his daughter to Connor on receipt of it, or if not, that the Knight of the Black Rod would come down, strip him of his property, and bestow it upon Connor and his daughter. The young man himself was almost one of the first who heard of this favorable change in his dreadful sentence. He was seated on his bedside reading, when the sheriff and jailer entered his cell, anxious to lay before him the reply which had that morning arrived from government. “I'm inclined to think, O'Donovan, that your case is likely to turn out more favorably than we expected,” said the humane sheriff. “I hope, with all my heart, it may,” replied the other; “there is no denying, sir, that I'd wish it. Life is sweet, especially to a young man of my years.”