“What other way could she come, I wonder?” said the man he had first addressed. “Did n't they leave her there by herself, just as if she was n't belonging to them? They were kinder to old Henderson's daughter than to their own flesh and blood.” “Hush, Jerry, hush!--she 'll hear you,” cried the other. And saluting the stranger respectfully, he began to follow down the cliff. “Are there strangers stopping at the inn?” asked Mary, as she saw lights gleaming from some of the windows as she passed. “Yes, miss, there's him that was up there at the churchyard--ye didn't remark him, maybe--and one or two more.” “I did not notice him,” said Mary; and, wishing the men good-night, set out homeward. So frequent were the halts she made at different cabins as she drove along, so many times was she stopped to give a word of advice or counsel, that it was already duskish as she reached Cro' Martin, and found herself once more near home. “You're late with the post this evening, Billy,” said she, overtaking the little fellow who carried the mail from Oughterard. “Yes, miss, there was great work sortin' the letters that came in this morning, for I believe there's going to be another election; at least I heard Hosey Lynch say it was all about that made the bag so full.” “I 'm sorry for it, Billy,” said she. “We have enough to think of, ay, and troubles enough, too, not to need the strife and bitterness of another contest amongst us.” “Thrue for ye, miss, indeed,” rejoined Billy. '“Tis wishing them far enough I am, them same elections; the bag does be a stone heavier every day till it's over.” “Indeed!” said Mary, half smiling at the remark. “Thrue as I 'm here, miss. I would n't wonder if it was the goold for bribin' the chaps makes it weigh so much.” “And is there any other news stirring in the town, Billy?” “Next to none, miss. They were talkin' of putting up ould Nelligan's son for the mimber; and more says the Magennis of Barnagheela will stand.” “A most excellent choice that would be, certainly,” said Mary, laughing. “Faix! I heerd of another that wasn't much better, miss.” “And who could that be?” asked Mary, in astonishment. “But sure you'd know better than me, if it was thrue, more by token it would be the master's own orders.” “I don't understand you, Billy.” “I mean, miss, that it's only his Honer, Mr. Martin, could have the power to make Maurice Scanlan a Parlimint man.” “And has any one hinted at such a possibility?” said she, in astonishment. “Indeed, then, it was the talk of the market this mornin', and many a one said he's the very fellow would get in.” “Is he such a general favorite in Oughterard?” “I'm not sure it's that, miss,” said Billy, thoughtfully.