M'Evoy's house was situated on the side of a dark hill--one of that
barren description which can be called neither inland nor mountain. It
commanded a wide and extended prospect, and the road along which the lad
travelled was visible for a considerable distance from it. On a small
hillock before the door sat Dominek and his wife, who, as long as their
son was visible, kept their eyes, which were nearly blinded with tears,
rivetted upon his person. It was now they gave full vent to their grief,
and discussed with painful and melancholy satisfaction all the excellent
qualities which he possessed. As James himself advanced, one neighbor
after another fell away from the train which accompanied him, not,
however, until they had affectionately embraced and bid him adieu, and
perhaps slipped, with peculiar delicacy, an additional mite into
his waistcoat pocket. After the neighbors, then followed the gradual
separation from his friends--one by one left him, as in the great
journey of life, and in a few hours he found himself accompanied only by
his favorite brother.

This to him was the greatest trial he had yet felt; long and
heartrending was their embrace. Jemmy soothed and comforted his beloved
brother, but in vain. The lad threw himself on the spot at which they
parted, and remained there until Jemmy turned an angle of the road which
brought him out of his sight, when the poor boy kissed the marks of his
brother's feet repeatedly, and then returned home, hoarse and broken
down with the violence of his grief.

He was now alone, and for the first time felt keenly the strange object
on which he was bent, together with all the difficulties connected with
its attainment. He was young and uneducated, and many years, he knew,
must elapse e'er he could find himself in possession of his wishes. But
time would pass at home, as well as abroad, he thought; and as there lay