"What letthers?" asked Hanlon eagerly; "a tobaccy-box, did you say?"

"Ay did I--a tobaccy-box. I found it in a hole in the wall in our
house to-day; it tumbled out while I was gettin' some cobwebs to stop a
bleedin'."

"Was it a good one?" asked Hanlon, with apparent carelessness, "could
one use it?"

"Hardly; but no, it's all rusty, an' has but one hinge."

"But one hinge!" repeated the other, who was almost breathless with
anxiety; "an' the letthers--what's this you say they wor?"

"The very same that's on your handkerchy," she replied--"a P. an' an M."

"Great God!" he exclaimed, "is this possible! Heavens! What is that? Did
you hear anything?"

"What ails you?" she enquired. "Why do you look so frightened?"

"Did you hear nothing?" he again asked.

"Ha! ha!--hear!" she replied, laughing--"hear; I thought I heard
something like a groan; but sure 'tis only the wind. Lord! what a night!
Listen how the wind an' storm growls an' tyrannizes and rages down in
the glen there, an' about the hills. Faith there'll be many a house
stripped this night. Why, what ails you? Afther all, you're but a
hen-hearted divil, I doubt; sorra thing else."