The moon got up when he was about half-way to his destination, and he left the road lest by chance there might be any one out at that hour who would recognise him. He crept on by the hedges and ditches, sometimes running along the bits of grass between the tillage and fences--sometimes having almost to wade through the wet bottoms which he crossed, often falling, in his hurry and in the imperfect light of the cloudy moon, till at last, tired, hot, and covered with dirt, pale with fear, and nearly overcome by the misery of his own reflections, he reached Corney Dolan's cabin. It was now about eleven o'clock; it had been past ten when he left Ballycloran, and in the interval he had traversed above five Irish miles. There was no light in the cabin, which was a solitary one, standing on the edge of a bog. Now he was there he feared to knock, as he did not know what to say to Corney when he should come to the door. Besides, he was aware that his hands and coat were soiled with blood, and he was unwilling that the inmates of the cabin should see him in that plight. He had, however, no time to spare, and as it was necessary that he should do something, after pausing a few minutes, he knocked at the door. No one answered, and he had to knock two or three times before he was asked in a woman's voice who he was, and what he wanted there at that hour of the night. He stated that he wanted to see Corney Dolan. The woman told him that Corney Dolan wasn't at home, and that he couldn't see him. Thady knew that he lived alone with his mother, an aged woman, nearly eighty years old, and that it was she who was speaking to him now. "Nonsense, mother," said he; "he's at home I know, and I must see him. Don't you know me?" "Faix, then, I don't--and I don't want," said the old hag. "At any rate, Corney's not here; so you may jist go back agin, whoever you call yerself." "But where is he, then? Can you tell me where I'll find him?" "I can't tell you thin. What should I know myself? So now you know as much about it as I do." "Well, then, get up and let me in. Don't you know me? I'm Corney's landlord, Thady Macdermot. I'll wait here till he comes; so get up and let me in." There was a silence for some time; then he heard the old woman say to some one else, "The Lord be praised! It can't be him--it can't be Mr. Thady coming here at this time of night. Don't stir I tell ye--don't stir, avick!" "Oh! but it wor him, mother. Shure, don't I know his voice?" answered the child that the old woman had spoken to. "I tell you it is me," shouted Thady. "Open the door, will you! and not keep me here all night!"