Presently there came through the gates another troop—not a troop of horse as on the preceding Monday, but a very small troop on foot, consisting of some half a dozen of the most ragged, dirty, forlorn and Heaven-forsaken looking tramps that Christian eyes ever beheld. Judy, pacing up and down the piazza, never saw them. She was muttering to herself: “I know he is dead, but I shall never know how he died, or where he died, or how much he might have suffered before he died. And this will be a sorrow to me worse than death itself! A life-long sorrow that even me darlint Ran can nivir comfort me for.” “Judy!” A familiar voice called in her ear, a hard hand clapped her on the shoulder. She sprang as if she had been shot, gazed for an instant as if she had gone mad, and then, with a great cry, flung herself in her brother’s arms. Mike was worn out with his wearisome tramp, so he sat down on one of the wooden benches, drew his sister on his knees, and held her to his bosom, where she lay sobbing in a great paroxysm of emotion. Her cry had brought Mrs. Moseley and several other members of the family to the door. They saw Mike sitting there with his sister’s face hidden on his bosom. Mike lifted his old rag of a hat to the lady, who smiled and returned into the house with all who had followed her to the door. She would not disturb such a joyful meeting. She was as much delighted as surprised that it had come so opportunely. It was some time before Judy was composed enough to speak. And even then her first utterances were incoherent ejaculations of thankfulness, delight and affection. At length she said, falling into her old dialect: “It’s an answer to prayer! It’s a blissing come down from the Mither av Hivin. Oh, sure me harrt was breaking in me brest to lave this, an’ yoursilf away, and me unbeknownst of whativir hed become av ye!” “Wheriver were ye going, Judy?” he asked. “Oh, sure ye didn’t know! How should ye?” she said. And then she told him the situation, and inquired, in her turn, how it was that he came so happily to see her, before her departure. “That Silver Moon Mine was jist the most misfortunate ventur’ as ivir was made! Iviry one of the bhoys as went from Grizzly have come back, hed to, ilse we wud ha’ perished in the snow there, this winter. What a differint climit this is! Why, it’s almost like simmir here compared to there. So we’s all going back to slow and sure old Grizzly. All, lasteways, ixcipt Longman and Dandy, who are going back to the ould counthry.” “Oh, Mike, are you going back to Grizzly?” “Yis, sure! Where ilse wud I go?” “Oh, Mike, don’t let us be parted! Go with me to New York! Ran is going to England about the first of December; wouldn’t you like to see him once more before he goes?” Mike hesitated, then he said slowly: “Sure, and I wud like to go with ye, Judy, and I wud like to see Ran, but——”