What could my mother want with his honour down at Knockowen?
"Ay, and quickly--or it will be too late." Knockowen was across the lough, five miles up above Dunree.

It would be hours on a night like this before he could be here.

But my mother continued to moan, "Go, Barry--make haste." So, much against my will, I put on my cap and prepared to leave her alone.

At the door she called me back.
"Kiss me, Barry," said she.

Then before I could obey her she fell to raving.
"Give me back the lassie," she cried, "dead or alive.