McGann appeared on the crest of the hill.

The Irishman walked slowly to the door, and pausing, said to himself:
"I couldn't run the big risk, me darlin', without seein' you again, God
help me! There's danger ahead which little I'd care for if it wasn't for
you."

Then he stepped inside the house--the place was silent; he called, but no
one answered; he threw open the doors of the rooms, but they were empty;
he went outside and called again, but no reply came, except the flutter
of a night-hawk's wings and the cry of a whippoorwill. He went back into
the house and sat down with his head between his hands. So, for a
moment, and then he raised his head, and said with a sad smile: "Faith,
Shon, me boy, this takes the life out of you! the empty house where she
ought to be, and the smile of her so swate, and the hand of her that
falls on y'r shoulder like a dove on the blessed altar-gone, and lavin'
a chill on y'r heart like a touch of the dead. Sure, nivir a wan of me
saw any that could stand wid her for goodness, barrin' the angel that
kissed me good-bye with one foot in the stirrup an' the troopers behind
me, now twelve years gone, in ould Donegal, and that I'll niver see
again, she lyin' where the hate of the world will vex the heart of her no
more, and the masses gone up for her soul. Twice, twice in y'r life,
Shon McGann, has the cup of God's joy been at y'r lips, and is it both
times that it's to spill?--Pretty Pierre shoots straight and sudden, and
maybe it's aisy to see the end of it; but as the just God is above us,
I'll give him the lie in his throat betimes for the word he said agin me
darlin'. What's the avil thing that he has to say? What's the divil's
proof he would bring? And where is she now? Where are you, Lucy? I
know the proof I've got in me heart that the wreck of the world couldn't
shake, while that light, born of Heaven, swims up to your eyes whin you