"That's just what he has not, Bridget; he has left the mountains and
come down somewhere to the Infield country; but where, I cannot make
out."

"Well, asthore, he'll only bring on his own punishment. Troth, I'm not a
bit sorry that Granua missed him. I never was to say, for the match,
but you should have your way, and force the girl there to it, over and
above. Of what use is his land and wealth to him now?"

"God's will be done," replied her husband, sorrowfully. "As for me, I
can do no more in it, nor I won't. I was doing the best for my child.
He'll be guided by no one's advice but his own."

"That's true," replied his wife, "you did. But here's Barney Casey, from
the big house, comin' to warn the tenantry to a bonfire that's to be
made to-night in Rathfillan, out of rejoicin' for the misthress's son
that's come home to them."

Here Barney once more repeated the message, with which the reader is
already acquainted.

"You are all to come," he proceeded, "ould and young; and to bring every
one a backload of sticks and brusna to help to make the bonfire."

"Is this message from the masther or misthress, Barney?" asked Davoren.

"O, straight from himself," he replied. "I have it from his own lips.
Troth he's ready to leap out of his skin wid delight."