All now was dark, and they walked slowly on some paces without speaking, when four bright flashes from a neighbouring clock announced the completion of some hour, and the next instant the solemn deep-toned bell distinctly pronounced the word "one," and then all again was silent.
"I had no fancy it was so late," said the father, whose disposition was naturally too cheerful to let him ever remain long silent.
"Did you think it was one o'clock, Clara? I little thought I should ever be wandering with you, clear, in the streets at such a time of night. I can't help fancying it's all a dream, anyhow: so speak, darling, if you can, and tell me all about it."
Clara felt still more faint, and only replied by clinging yet more firmly to the friar's arm. Father Murphy was frightened and thought she was going to die.—"Oh murther!" cried he, "what will I do? she brathing her last, sweet cratur, and nobody by to help her, and I not knowing how to comfort her."
The delicate form of Clara seemed every
