Our readers can easily fancy the pride of
his parents and friends on receiving him.
"Father," said he, "my name's' cleared. I hope I have the Lamh Laudher
blood in me still. Mother, you never doubted me, but you wor forced to
give way."
"My son, my son," said the father, embracing him, "my noble boy! There
never was one of your name like you. You're the flower of us all!"
His mother wept with joy and pressed him repeatedly to her heart;
and all his relations were as profuse as they were sincere in their
congratulations.
"One thing troubles us," observed his parents, "what will become of his
wife? John dear," said his mother, "my heart aches for her."
"God knows and so does mine," exclaimed the father; "there is goodness
about her."
"She is freed from a tyrant and a savage," replied their son, "for he
was both, and she ought to be thankful that she's rid of him. But you
don't know that there was an attempt made on my life this mornin'."
On hearing this, they were all mute with astonishment.
"In the name of heaven how, John?" they inquired with one voice.
[Illustration: PAGE 110-- He made a stab at my neck]
"A red-haired man came to my aunt's," he continued, "early this mornin',
an' said if I wanted to hear something for my good, I would follow him.
I did so, an' I observed that he eyed me closely as we went along.
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