none of the wind came upon himself. From the exercise he had given himself walking the hill, and from the warmth of the moss, and from that lullaby of the wind through the heather, the poor fellow was soon sleeping soundly.
Some time in the night he felt something like a person's hand upon his head, and his sleep left him. Sleep left him so completely that he felt as if there were not a hair's weight in any of his limbs. He looked aside. She was there kneeling at his left shoulder, with one hand on his head, and she was looking into his eyes. It was the barefooted woman. He remained looking at her while she looked into his eyes. The night Was very black and dark. He could see the sky up above her head. There was neither moon nor star in the sky, but it was like an intensely black mass, high and vast and empty. He was looking at the woman's countenance, at her eyes and at her brow and at her face. He had no light to see by but the light which was coming from the countenance itself. He continued looking at her. He could not help it. He thought his eyes had never beheld any human face so beautiful as the face of that woman! If he were to get all Ireland for it he could not take his eyes off her. As he continued looking at her the beauty increased, and the emanation of bliss and joy increased, in her brow and in her eyes and in her mouth, and she looked as if she were about to open her mouth to speak, while he was waiting for the word to come. The bliss and the joy poured in through his eyes and back into his brain and down into his heart and breast, so that there came upon him such a sense of happiness, and contentment of mind, and
