During the short time that elapsed between the heavy blow which had occasioned Ussher’s death, and the departure of Pat Brady with the gig, a great many thoughts had passed through Thady’s mind, although he had been in action the whole time. His first idea had certainly been that Ussher was carrying off Feemy against her will; the last words which Ussher had spoken before his death, and which were the only words of his that Thady had heard — “This is d —— d nonsense; you know you must come now,”— certainly were calculated to make him think so. But he soon reflected that had this been so, Feemy could not have been sitting alone in the place where Ussher found her; besides, her own conduct when she came to herself disproved it. Feemy had therefore evidently been a consenting party. Still, however, he thought that he could not but be justified¹ in doing what he had done in his sister’s defence, even though his interference was in opposition² to her wishes. Then he thought of the man himself, whom he had known so long, seen so frequently, and hated so bitterly. There he was now — dead — a cold corpse³ — entirely⁴ harmless, and unable to injure him or his more. But Thady already felt his enemy’s blood heavy on his conscience, and he would have died himself to see him rise on his feet. Thoughts as to his own safety crowded on his mind; he felt that if he intended boldly to justify⁵ the deed, he should himself declare what he had done — see that the body was properly taken care of — and give himself up at once to the police. As to the fact of his having killed the man, that he had declared to his sister before he had at all thought what his conduct ought to be, and he had done the same to Brady; it was useless for him therefore to attempt to conceal⁶ it, even if he had wished to do so. But he felt afraid to give himself up to the police; he abhorred⁷ the idea of what he thought would be the disgrace of being in

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