seemed to have been lit up against the deepening shades of evening
by some gigantic death-light that superadded its fearful omens to the
gloomy scenes on which it fell.

The sun, as he then appeared, might not inaptly be compared to some
great prophet, who, clothed with the majesty and terror of I an
angry God, was commissioned to launch! his denunciations against the
iniquities of nations, and to reveal to them, as they lay under the
shadow of his wrath, the terrible calamities with which he was about to
visit their transgressions.

The two men now walked on in silence for some time, Donnel Dhu having
not deemed it necessary to make any reply to the pious and becoming
sentiments uttered by Sullivan.

At length the latter spoke.

"Barrin' what we all know, Donnel, an' that's the saison an' the
sufferin' that's in it, is there no news stirrin' at all? Is it thrue
that ould Dick o' the Grange is drawin' near to his last account?"

"Not so bad as that; but he's still complainin'. It's one day up and
another day down wid' him--an' of coorse his laise of life can't be long
now."

"Well, well," responded Sullivan, "it's not for us to pass judgment on
our fellow-creatures; but by all accounts he'll have a hard reckonin'."

"That's his own affair, you know," said Donnel Dhu; "but his son, master
Richard, or 'Young Dick,' as they call him, will be an improvement upon