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CHAPTER LXXXVIII.
"Sure what a stormy night it is! Lard help us, Mr. Mac Allain," said the nurse, as she wrapped her thick cloth mantle over the sweet slumberer that fondled in her bosom, and got into a post-chaise and four with much trepidation and difficulty. "I never saw the like! there's wind enough to blow us into the sea, and sea enough to deluge the land. The Holy Virgin, and all the saints protect us!" Gerald Mac Allain having with some trouble secured the reluctant and loquacious matron, now returned for another and a dearer charge, who, trembling and penitent, followed him to the carriage. "Farewell, my kind preserver," said Calantha, her voice scarcely audible. "God bless, God protect you,
