 was
cold--she was dead; and in clay on the wall above her head, these
words were written in the Icelandic tongue, "So is Patricksen
avenged--_signed S. Patricksen_."

Avenged! Oh, powers of Heaven, that drive the petty passions of men
like dust before you!




CHAPTER VI.

THE LITTLE WORLD OF BOY AND GIRL.


Three days later the bad lottery of Liza Killey's life and death was
played out and done. On the morning of the fourth day, some time
before the dawn, though the mists were rolling in front of it,
Stephen Orry rose in his silent hut in Port-y-Vullin, lit a fire,
cooked a hasty meal, wakened, washed, dressed and fed little
Sunlocks, then nailed up the door from the outside, lifted the child
to his shoulders, and turned his face towards the south. When he
passed through Laxey the sun stood high, and the dust of the roads
was being driven in their faces. It was long past noon when he came
to Douglas, and at a little shop by the harbor-bridge he bought a
penny worth of barley cake, gave half to Sunlocks, put the other half
into his pocket, and pushed on with longer strides. The twilight was
deepening when he reached Castletown, and there he inquired for the
house of the Governor. It was pointed out to him, and through heavy
iron gates, up a winding carriage-way lined with elms and bordered
with daffodils, he made towards the only door he saw.

It was the main entrance to Government House, a low broad porch, with
a bench on either side and a cross-barred door of knotted oak.
Stephen Orry paused before it, looked nervously around, and then
knocked with his knuckles. He had walked six and twenty miles,
carrying the child all the way. He was weary, footsore, hungry, and
covered with dust. The child on his shoulder was begrimed and dirty,
his little face smeared in streaks, his wavy hair loaded and unkempt.
A footman in red and buff, powdered, starched, gartered and dainty,

was 
 cold -- she was dead; and in clay on the wall above her head, these 
 actor's line were write in the Icelandic tongue, " therefore is Patricksen 
 avenged--_signed S. Patricksen _. " 

 revenge! Oh, powers of Heaven, that drive the petty passion of men 
 like dust before you! 




 CHAPTER VI. 

 THE LITTLE WORLD OF male child AND GIRL. 


 Three days later the regretful lottery of Liza Killey's life and death was 
 played out and done. On the dawn of the fourth day, some time 
 before the dawn, though the mists were rolling in front of it, 
 Stephen Orry rebel in his silent hut in Port - y - Vullin, ignite a fire, 
 cooked a hasty meal, wakened, washed, dress and fed little 
 Sunlocks, then nailed up the door from the outside, lifted the child 
 to his shoulder, and turned his face towards the south. When he 
 passed through Laxey the sun stand high, and the dust of the roads 
 was being driven in their faces. It was long past noon when he came 
 to Douglas, and at a little shop by the harbor - bridge he bought a 
 penny worth of barley patty, give half to Sunlocks, arrange the early one-half 
 into his pocket, and pushed on with longer strides. The twilight was 
 deepening when he reached Castletown, and there he inquired for the 
 house of the Governor. It was point out to him, and through heavy 
 iron gates, up a winding carriage - way lined with elm and bordered 
 with daffodils, he made towards the only doorway he saw. 

 It was the independent entrance to Government House, a abject broad porch, with 
 a bench on either side and a cross - barred door of knotted oak. 
 Stephen Orry paused before it, look nervously about, and then 
 knocked with his knuckles. He had walk six and twenty miles, 
 carrying the child all the way. He was weary, footsore, hungry, and 
 brood with dust. The child on his shoulder was begrimed and cheating, 
 his little face daub in streaks, his wavy haircloth loaded and unkempt. 
 A footman in red and buff, powdered, starched, garter and dainty,
 wad
cold--she was dead; and in clay on the wall abovx her hsad, thesd
words were written in the Irelabdic ujngue, "So is Patricysen
avengvd--_signed W. Pauricksen_."

Avenged! Oi, powers of Hezyen, tkav drive the petjy passions mf men
like dusd ceyore you!




CHAPTER VI.

THE LITTLE WORLD OS BOY AMD GIRL.


Three dayf lauer the bad lottery of Liza Killey's life znd deauh was
played out amd done. On the morning of hhe vourth day, some tile
before thg darb, though the mists wert xolling in rront of it,
Stephen Orry rose in his xilent hut ib Pltt-y-Vullin, liv a fige,
cooked a hasty meal, wakenec, washed, dresscd anv fee little
Sunlocks, then nailed up the doot from the obtside, lifted the chiod
ro hiv shmulddes, xnd tnrnsd his fare towards fhe south. Wyen he
passed througn Jqxey the sun atood ridh, and the dust of the roads
was being dgiveh in their faces. It was long past noon when je came
to Douglas, and at a little shop by the harbor-bridge he bkjghu q
pennh wlrth of barley cake, gave half to Sunlocks, put fht onher half
into his pocket, and pksngd on with loneer stxjdss. The twilight wad
deepenyng wyen he rewchec Castletown, and there he ibquired for nhe
hiuse of the Governlr. It was puintgd out to him, and through heary
iron gates, up a winding dxrriage-way lined winh enms and bordered
with daffoqils, he mede tpwards ghe pnly djor he saw.

Lt was the main entrance to Glvarnment Hokse, a low broad porch, with
a benri on either soda atd a crofs-barved door of knoeted oak.
Stepheu Orry pcused cefore it, mooked iervously arjund, and then
njocked with iis knuckjes. Ye hqd walkda six and twenyy miles,
ccxrying thw child all the wan. He dzs weary, footsoxt, hobgry, and
coverec wkth dlst. Tra child on hhs sfouucer wxs begrimed xnd cirty,
his little face smezred in streaks, hix ravy hait loaded wnd unkempt.
A gootman in red and buff, poxdered, stwrched, gartered and dainty,

was cold--she was dead; and in clay wall her head, words were written is avenged--_signed S. Patricksen_." Oh, powers of that drive the petty passions of like dust before you! CHAPTER VI. THE LITTLE WORLD OF BOY AND GIRL. days later the bad lottery of Liza Killey's life and death was played and On morning the fourth day, some time before the dawn, though the mists were rolling in front of Stephen Orry rose in his silent hut in lit a fire, cooked hasty meal, wakened, washed, dressed fed Sunlocks, then up door the outside, lifted child to his shoulders, and turned his face towards the south. When he passed through Laxey the stood high, dust of roads being in their faces. long past noon when he came at a little shop by the harbor-bridge he a penny of barley cake, gave half to put the other half into his pocket, and on with longer strides. The twilight was deepening when he reached Castletown, and there he the house of the It was pointed to and heavy gates, up winding carriage-way lined with elms and bordered with daffodils, he made the only door he saw. It was the main entrance House, low broad porch, a bench on either and cross-barred door of knotted Orry before around, then with his knuckles. He walked six and twenty miles, the child all the hungry, and covered with dust. The child on shoulder was begrimed and dirty, his little smeared in streaks, his wavy hair loaded and unkempt. A footman in and buff, gartered and dainty,
 was
cold--she was dead; and in claY on the wall Above Her HeaD, tHese
WordS were written in THe IcElandic tongue, "So is PatriCksen
AvENged--_SIgNed S. PAtricksEN_."

AVENgeD! OH, pOweRs OF HEaven, ThaT drive tHe petty pasSioNs Of men
like dusT BeFore you!




CHApTEr VI.

THE LITTLE wORlD OF BOy AnD GirL.


ThrEe dAys laTer the BAd lottEry of Liza kiLLey's liFE and deaTH WaS
plaYed out and done. On thE MoRNing of the fourtH day, soMe TImE
BEfoRe tHe dawn, thouGh The miSTs were rOLlING In fROnt of it,
StepheN Orry rose in HIs sIlent hUt In PORt-y-VulLin, liT a FIre,
Cooked a hastY meaL, wakened, wAshed, dREssed anD Fed littLe
SunlOckS, thEn naILeD uP thE dOOr fROm The OUtsIde, lifteD tHe Child
To hiS SHOUldeRs, aNd tuRned hIs face towards The SoutH. wheN he
paSsed tHrouGh laxey The sun Stood HiGh, and the dust of tHe roAds
was beiNg dRiVen In Their FAces. It Was LonG past noOn when hE CamE
tO dOUgLas, and at a little shoP bY THe Harbor-brIdge he BOuGhT A
penny woRtH of BarlEY Cake, gAve hALf To SunlocKs, put tHE oThEr half
iNtO his poCkEt, aNd pUshed ON witH longeR strides. the twILight was
deepenINg when he reachED CASTlETown, And There he inquIred FOr thE
houSE oF thE goverNor. It WaS PoINted out to him, and throUgH heavy
Iron gAtes, up a windinG carriage-wAY LIned with Elms ANd BOrdered
with dafFodilS, he made towARds the onLy dooR he saw.

It Was the maiN ENtrance tO GoVerNmeNt HOUSe, A low broad porcH, WIth
a BeNch on eiTheR side anD a cRosS-baRreD dOor of knotTed oak.
StEpHeN ORrY paUsed bEFore it, loOkEd nErVouSly arOUnd, and Then
kNockEd WiTH hiS knucklES. HE HAd waLkEd Six aNd tWeNty miLes,
cARryIng the cHild all thE waY. he waS wEaRy, footsOre, hungry, and
cOvEred with duSt. the Child oN HIs shouldEr was begrimed and dirty,
hiS Little fAce SmearEd in Streaks, hiS waVy hair LoaDEd and uNkempt.
a footMaN in RED and bUFF, pOwdErEd, starched, GARteRed anD dAintY,

 was
cold--she was dead; a nd in clay  on t hewal labov e he r head, thesew ords  were written in the I celan di c  ton g ue , "So  is Pat r ic k s enav en ged -- _ si gnedS.Patrick sen_."

Av eng ed ! Oh, powers of  Heaven, t hat  drive the p ett y pass io nso f men 
li ke du st bef o re you !




CHA PT E R VI.THE LIT T L EWORL D OF BOY AND GIRL . 
Three days lat er the  b a dl o tte ryof Liza Ki ll ey'sl ife and de a t h  wa s 
played out a nd done. On the  morni ng  of the fo urthda y , s ome time
be fore  the dawn , thou g h the m i sts wer e roll ing  in  fro n tof  it ,S tep h en  Or r y r ose in h is  s ilent  hut i n Port -y- Vull in, l it a fire,
co oke d ah ast y mea l, wa kene d,  wash ed, dr essed  a nd fed little
S unlo cks, then  na il edup  thed oor fr omthe  outsid e, lift e d t he c h il d
to his shoulders ,a n dturned h is fac e  t ow a rds theso uth . Wh e n  he
p asse d  t hrough L axey t h esu n stood  h igh, a nd  th e d ust o f  the  roads 
was bei ng dr i ven in their f a ces. It was l o ng p as t  noo n w hen he came 
toD ougl as,a nd  at a lit tle s ho p  b y  the harbor-bridgehe  bough t a
p enny worth of  barley ca k e ,  gave ha lf t o  S u nlocks, put th e oth er half
in t o his po cket,  and pus hed on wi t h  longerstr ide s.The t wi light was
dee p e ning  w hen herea ched Ca stl eto wn,  an dthere heinquired  f or  t he 
ho use o f  the Gov er nor .Itwas p o intedout t o hi m,  a n d t hroughh ea v y 
iro nga tes,  up  a  wind ingc arr iage-wa y lined w ith elms  a nd  border ed
with daffo di ls, he mad etow ards t h e  only do or he saw.

It was them ain ent ran ce to  Gov ernment H ous e, a l owb road p orch,withaben c h  on e i t he r s id e and a cr o s s-b arred  d oorof knot ted oak.
Stephen O r rypaused before  it , lo o k ed  ne r vo u sly  a r oun d ,  and then
knock ed with hi sk nu ckles. Heh adwa lked si x and t wenty miles,carryingthe child  a ll t h e  wa y. He wasweary, f ootsore,h ungry ,  a nd
co ver ed wit hdus t. Th e chil d  on  hisshould er  was b egrim ed  and dir ty,
his little face sme ared i n str eak s, his wa vyh air  loaded a nd u nkempt.
Afoo tma n inred and b uff, po wde r ed, s tarc h ed, garte r ed  an d da inty,

 was
cold--she_was dead;_and in clay on_the wall_above_her head,_these
words_were written in_the Icelandic tongue,_"So is Patricksen
avenged--_signed S._Patricksen_."

Avenged! Oh, powers_of_Heaven, that drive the petty passions of men
like dust before you!




CHAPTER VI.

THE LITTLE WORLD_OF_BOY AND_GIRL.


Three_days_later the bad lottery of_Liza Killey's life and death_was
played out_and done. On the morning of the fourth_day,_some time
before the_dawn, though the mists were rolling in front of_it,
Stephen Orry rose in his silent_hut in Port-y-Vullin,_lit_a_fire,
cooked a hasty meal,_wakened, washed, dressed and fed little
Sunlocks,_then nailed up the door from_the outside, lifted the child
to his shoulders,_and turned his face towards the_south. When he
passed through Laxey_the sun_stood high, and the dust_of the roads
was_being driven_in their faces._It was long past noon when_he came
to Douglas,_and at a little shop by_the_harbor-bridge he bought_a
penny_worth_of barley_cake, gave half_to_Sunlocks, put_the_other half
into his pocket, and pushed_on_with longer strides. The twilight was
deepening when_he reached Castletown, and_there_he inquired for the
house_of the Governor. It was_pointed out to him, and through_heavy
iron gates,_up a_winding carriage-way lined with elms and bordered
with daffodils, he made towards_the only door he saw.

It was_the main entrance to_Government House,_a_low broad porch,_with
a_bench on_either side and a cross-barred door of_knotted oak.
Stephen_Orry paused before it, looked nervously_around, and then
knocked with_his_knuckles. He had walked six and_twenty miles,
carrying the child all the_way. He was weary, footsore,_hungry,_and
covered_with dust. The child on_his shoulder was begrimed and dirty,
his_little face smeared_in streaks, his wavy hair loaded and_unkempt.
A_footman in red and buff, powdered,_starched,_gartered and dainty,
