"Yours is a sad story, but unfortunately a common one. And how have you
managed to live here?"

"There are plenty of potatoes, for the digging of 'em," the man said,
"for there are a score of ruined villages within a day's walk. As for
meat, there are cattle for the taking, wandering all over the country;
some have lately strayed away; but among the hills there are herds which
have run wild since the days when Cromwell made the country a desert. As
for spirits, I brew them myself. Barley as well as potatoes may be had
for the taking. Then, sometimes, the dog picks up a rabbit. Sometimes,
when we go down for potatoes, we light on a fowl or two; there's many a
one of them running wild among the ruins. As far as eating and drinking
goes, we never did better; and if I could forget the old cottage, and the
sight that met my eyes when I went back to it, I should do well enough,
but, night and day I am dreaming of it, and my heart is sore with longing
for vengeance."

"Why don't you join the army?" Walter asked. "There's plenty of room for
good men, and yesterday's affair has made some vacancies in my own troop.

"What do you say, lads? You would have a chance of crossing swords with
the Enniskilleners, and you could always come back here when the war is
over."

"What do you say, boys?" the man asked his companions. "I am just
wearying for a fight, and I could die contented, if I could but send a
few of those murdering villains to their place, before I go."

The other two men at once agreed. They talked well into the night, and