If they hadn't liked YOU it's the sorry time maybe your brother would have." He paused again, looking at her intently, whilst his fingers clutched the coverlet convulsively as if to stifle a cry of pain.
"May I ask ye yer name ?" he gasped.
"Angela," she said, almost in a whisper.
"Angela," he repeated.

"Angela! It's well named ye are.

It's the ministering angel ye've been down here--to the people--and--to me." "Don't talk any more now.

Rest" "REST, is it?
With all the throuble in the wurrld beatin' in me brain and throbbin' in me heart ?" "Try and sleep until the doctor comes to-night." He lay back and closed his eyes.
Angela sat perfectly still.
In a few minutes he opened them again.

There was a new light in his eyes and a smile on his lips.
"Ye heard me speak, did ye ?" "Yes." "Where were ye ?" "Above you, behind a bank of trees." A playful smile played around his lips as he said: "It was a GOOD speech, wasn't it ?" "I thought it wonderful," Angela answered.
"And what were yer feelings listenin' to a man urgin' the people against yer own country ?" "I felt I wanted to stand beside you and echo everything you said." "DID you ?" and his eyes blazed and his voice rose.
"You spoke as some prophet, speaking in a wilderness of sorrow, trying to bring them comfort." He smiled whimsically, as he said, in a weary voice: "I tried to bring them comfort and I got them broken heads and buck-shot." "It's only through suffering every GREAT cause triumphs," said Angela.
"Then the Irish should triumph some day.