The man spoke it as if it were a language he had learned, comparatively slowly and with effort.

Yet the sound of it seemed to Hyacinth one of the sweetest things he had ever heard.

Not even the shrinking self-distrust which he had been taught by repeated snubbings and protracted ostracism could prevent him from making himself known to this stranger.
'The blessing of God upon Ireland!' he said.
There was not a moment's hesitation on the part of the stranger.

The sound of the Gaelic was enough for him.

He stretched out both hands to Hyacinth.
'Is it that you also are one of us--one of the Gaels ?' he asked.
Hyacinth seized the outstretched hands and held them tight.