They parted Alice from her dying brother, and both were brought out into the open air as quickly as possible. Amidst the cries and lamentations of the bystanders Alice recovered. She sat for a while on the grass, trying to recall her scattered senses. The sight of Gerald lying near her, as the crowd opened to admit the air to his face with a freer freshness, brought the whole terrible truth to her mind. She rose with difficulty, but, gathering strength with recollection, she succeeded in breaking from the woman who had her in charge, and in a moment the head of Gerald was pillowed upon her bosom. The soft cooling breeze had restored the unfortunate boy to a momentary consciousness. He was barely able to turn his head towards Alice in recognition of their presence. A faint pleasure was expressed in his glassy eyes as he did so. “Won’t you speak to me, Gerald? Won’t you speak to your own Alley?” The boy shook with a convulsive shudder, but could not utter a syllable. “Don’t die, dear Gerald; don’t leave poor Alley all alone in the world! Och, och, och!” said the little girl in the very agony of childish despair, “he’ll never be the same again--he’ll never speak to me again!” The boy made an effort to bring Alice’s ear to his clammy lips; she strove to hear the almost inarticulate whisper which hovered upon them. “Is--uncle James--here?” gasped the dying lad; “tell him--I--couldn’t--help it! Oh! Alley! oh!” Gradually the groan, extorted by the last pang of dissolution, died away, and with it the spirit of poor Gerald Kavanagh. Alice perceived what had happened as soon as any of the bystanders, but high and shrill _her_ scream mounted over the wailing which arose from the others, ere she once more sank down in the swoon which the excess of her anguish had so mercifully caused. On the following day a coroner’s inquest was held upon the bodies of the three sons of Peter Kavanagh, in a public-house not far distant from the scene of this fatal debauch. A surmise had been afloat that poison had somehow or other been the cause of their death, and an examination of one of the bodies was considered needful. I will not shock my readers with a description of the fearful chamber where this most loathsome operation was performed. The result was a verdict to the effect that the three Kavanaghs had died “from the excessive use of ardent spirits.”