"Oh, God, who is the sinner's friend,
Make clean my soul once more!"

When he arrived at the Castle walls he stood and looked long at them.

"No, I won't go in. I won't try to see him," he said at last. "God, how
strange Ireland is to me! The soil of it, the trees of it, the grass of
it, are dearer than ever, but--I'll have no more of Ireland. I'll ask
for nothing. I'll get to England. What's Ireland to me? I must make my
way somewhere. There's one in there"--he nodded towards the Castle--
"that owes me money at cards. He should open his pockets to me, and see
me safe on a ship for Australia; but I've had my fill of every one in
Ireland. There's nothing here for me but shame. Well, back I'll go to
the Hen and Chickens, to find a good dinner there."

He turned and went back slowly along the streets by which he had come,
looking not to right nor left, thinking only of where he should go and
what he should do outside of Ireland.

At the door of the inn he sniffed the dinner Michael had ordered.

"Man alive!" he said as he entered the place and saw the two men with
their hands against the bright fire. "There's only one way to live, and
that's the way I'm going to try."

"Well, you'll not try it alone, sir, if you please," said Michael. "I'll
be with you, if I may."

"And I'll bless you as you go," said Christopher Dogan.