“Una,” said her father, “we sent for you to mention a circumstance that we would rather you should hear from ourselves than from strangers. You were always a good girl, Una--an' obadient girl, and sensible beyant your years; and I trust that your good sinse and the grace of the Almighty will enable you to bear up undher any disappointment that may come upon you.” “Surely, father, there can be nothing worse than I know already,” she replied. “Why, what do you know, dear?” “Only what you told me the day Fardorougha was here, that nothing agreeable to my wishes could take place.” “I would give a great deal that the business was now as it was even then,” responded her father; “there's far worse to come, Una, an' you must be firm, an' prepare to hear what'll thry you sorely.” “I can't guess it, father; but for God's sake tell me at once.” “Who do you think burned our property?” “And I suppose if she hadn't been undher the one roof wid us that it's ourselves he'd burn,” observed her mother. “Father, tell me the worst at once--whatever it may be;--how could I guess the villain or villains who destroyed our property?” “Villain, indeed! you may well say so,” returned the Bodagh. “That villain is no other than Connor O'Donovan!” Una felt as if a weighty burden had been removed from her heart; she breathed freely; her depression and alarm vanished, and her dark eye kindled into proud confidence in the integrity of her lover. “And, father,” she asked, in a full and firm voice, “is there nothing worse than that to come?” “Worse! is the girl's brain turned?” “_Dhar a Lhora Heena_, she's as mad I believe as ould Fardorougha himself,” said the mother; “worse! why, she has parted wid all the reasing she ever had.” “Indeed, mother, I hope I have not, and that my reason's as clear as ever; but, as to Connor O'Donovan, he's innocent of that charge, and of every other that may be brought against him; I don't believe it, and I never will.” “It's proved against him; it's brought, home to him.” “Who's his accuser?” “His father's servant, Bartle Flanagan, has turned king's evidence.” “The deep-dyed villain!” she exclaimed, with indignation; “father, of that crime, so sure as God's in heaven, so sure is Connor O'Donovan innocent, and so sure is Bartle Flanagan guilty--I know it.” “You know it--explain yourself.” “I mean I feel it--ay, home to the core of my heart--my unhappy heart--I feel the truth of what I say.” “Una,” observed her brother, “I'm afraid you have been vilely deceived by him--there's not the slightest doubt of his guilt.” “Don't you be deceived, John; I say he's innocent--as I hope for heaven he's innocent; and, father, I'm not a bit cast down or disheartened by anything I have yet heard against him.” “You're a very extraordinary girl, Una; but for my part I'm glad you look upon it as you do. If his innocence appears, no man alive will be better plazed at it than myself.”