"I say, Winnie," called Murtagh dolefully the next morning, "it's dull and dark, and cold, too. What is to be done?"

"Oh, Myrrh, what a pity!" returned Winnie, getting out of bed and rubbing her sleepy eyes. "Yes," she continued, coming into the passage and climbing on to the high window-sill to look out, "so it is; quite cloudy. Well, we had better not stand here in our nightgowns. Let us get dressed quickly; perhaps it will look better out of doors. My teeth are chattering." With a little shiver she vanished into her bedroom, but putting her head out again to exclaim: "Many happy returns of the day! Mind, I was first!" and the next minute an "Ugh! How cold it is!" accompanied by a sound of vigorous splashing, announced that she was in her bath.

In another quarter of an hour all four children were coming down the stairs, their footsteps echoing through the stillness of the house.

"What a lazy pig that Peggy is!" exclaimed Murtagh, as he opened the door of the schoolroom and found the shutters still closed. "Not a single one of the down-stair windows open yet, and no fire. Let us go and warm ourselves in the kitchen."

"I wonder what time it is," said Rosie, with a yawn. It was too dark to see the clock as they crossed the hall, but in the kitchen they found the smoldering embers of yesterday's fire, and with the aid of a log of wood and the bellows they soon had a roaring blaze. Then Rosie spied the coffee-pot with some remains of coffee; and Bobbo, who had been to the servants' hall to see if Donnie were there, returned with a loaf of bread and some butter. Winnie climbed on the dresser and peeped into jugs and bowls till she found milk and sugar, and then they all sat round the fire and made toast and sipped hot coffee till they felt thoroughly warm and comfortable.

"There," said Winnie. "Now let us go out and get our wreaths packed in the cart. We've got a tremendous lot to do."

"All right," said Bobbo. "I feel very jolly now; only, when first I got up I did feel so queer. I thought I was going to be ill."

"So did I," replied Winnie. "How funny! I wonder what it was! Did you feel anything queer, Rosie?"

But Rosie had laid her head down on a log of wood and was sound asleep.

"I say, Rosie! Wake up; what in the world are you going to sleep for? We must set to work if we want to be ready in time," exclaimed Murtagh, and with a push and shake Rosie was wakened again.

Crossing the kitchen the children unbarred the door and went out into the yard. The cold, gray light was barely sufficient to enable them to see their way, and the air was very keen.

Murtagh, sniffing it, said: "I suppose it's pretty early. How nice and fresh everything always smells at this time of the day."

They took out the cart and loaded it with their evergreen wreaths and sheaves of hollyhocks. The wreaths had been soaking in a sheltered harbor of the river, and now, fresh and glistening, they looked so pretty the children unanimously decided to make some more.

"Only let us do it indoors," said Rosie, "I am dreadfully cold." So they carried bundles of flowers and evergreens into the kitchen. The fire was blazing up splendidly, and they sat down upon the hearth in the pleasant warmth. At first the garlands got on fast, but soon Rosie's head went down, and the flowers dropped out of her hands. Then Bobbo thought he could work much more comfortably lying down; presently his heavy eyelids drooped over his eyes, and though one hand kept tight hold of his wreath the other got somehow under his head for a pillow.

"Never mind," said Murtagh, "let them sleep; you and I must work double."

"What's that striking?" asked Winnie, as a stroke rang out from the hall clock.

"One, two, three, four," counted Murtagh. "Oh, we are in very good time."

Notwithstanding, Winnie's head began to droop, and she woke with a start presently, only to see that Murtagh was curled up in a ball sound asleep. She continued to tie pink and white hollyhocks in among the laurel leaves, proud to be the only one awake. Soon, however, one of the hollyhock blossoms began to grow larger and larger till it turned into a fairy palace built of rainbows and precious stones, where extraordinary things began to happen; the end of it all was that when Mrs. Donegan came down at six o'clock she found four children sound asleep among the evergreens.

"Bless their little hearts!" she murmured, looking down at them. "May your sleep always be as light-hearted, ye innocent lambs!" Then for fear they might be disturbed she would not let the maids into the kitchen, but moved about on tiptoe doing herself whatever was to be done.

Murtagh woke first; he sat up and rubbed his eyes. The bright morning sun was pouring in at the big windows. At first he could not understand how he came down there, then sprang to his feet with a joyous bound, exclaiming:

"Wake up! Hurrah! it's a glorious day after all!"

"How jolly!" returned Winnie, waking at once but dazzled with the glare of light.

"Why," said Bobbo, sitting up in his turn and rubbing his eyes, "however did it get so sunny?"

"The sun has been lighting the lamps while you were asleep, Master Bobbo, honey," replied Donnie.

"But I've only just been asleep a minute; I just shut my eyes because—" The others began to laugh; but Bobbo insisted, and was getting into hot argument, when the breakfast bell announced that anyhow it was eight o'clock now.

"Never mind, Bobbo, you've only been asleep two minutes, if you like!" exclaimed Murtagh. "I feel a great deal too jolly to care twopence;" and the next minute they were all entering the dining-room; where, finding it empty, Murtagh entertained them with an impromptu farce, entitled—"The benefits of early rising."

They did not dawdle long over breakfast that day, but were soon out on their way to the barn-yard. The followers were eagerly expecting them, and they were received with a shout of welcome.

"Long life to you, Master Murtagh!" burst from about twenty lusty throats. "May ye live to see many another birthday, and each one be happier than the last!"

"Thank you!" returned Murtagh, heartily. "But I don't think any birthday could be happier than this. Did you ever see such a glorious day?"

"It's not likely the sun'd be behindhand in wishin' you good luck," returned Pat O'Toole.

But time was too precious to be wasted in compliments.

"We're all here, aren't we?" said Murtagh. "So now let us get the horse into the cart and be off." Very soon the horse was harnessed to the cart.

"Now then," said Murtagh. "In you get, as many as will fit without squashing the evergreens, and let us be off. Gee up, Tommie. Those who can't get in must run behind." And with a crack of the whip, and a shake of the reins they started.

Golden stubble, dark hedges crossing and recrossing each other, patches of nut-trees here and there, low stone walls overgrown with moss and fern, and tufts of foxglove; all were equally delightful to them. They passed through picturesque tumbledown villages, where ragged babies were playing among the pigs and donkeys on the strip of grass by the roadside; and people came out of the cabins and wished them good luck, and gave them many a "God bless ye."

Jokes, laughter, cheers, and nonsense abounded. Before they had gone far Winnie and Rosie had both been presented with bouquets of wild flowers; dirty hands had robbed the hedges of rich clusters of blackberries, dirty lips were smeared with the crimson juice. But no king ever felt more proud of his dominion than Murtagh of his tribe; and truly if loving devotion is to be gloried in, Murtagh was right.

The air was exhilarating, and as they went higher they got among the heathery tops of the hills. Then looking back they could see the sea eight or nine miles off, with a silver mist upon it that gleamed freshly in the morning sun.

"Look back, Winnie! Look back now!" cried Murtagh, as they reached a hilltop from which the view was specially clear. "Did you ever see anything so lovely? See all this purple and gold at our feet, and the sparkling silver away there."

"Yes," said Winnie, turning round and taking a long look. "And to think," she added, with a little sigh, "that papa and mamma are really and truly away over there if only we could see far enough."

"Don't you feel as if you smelt the sea?" said Murtagh, throwing his head back to draw in the air better.

"Yes, and the heather," said Winnie, "doesn't it get into you and make you feel free? Oh, wouldn't it be glorious if we could live up here really with our tribe, and race over the mountains all day, and live on blackberries, and fraughans, and nuts? To be perfectly free! Oh, Murtagh, just think what a life it would be! We'd have ponies, and ride about, and we'd have a secret hiding-place, and be like good fairies to all the villages round. If any one was in trouble, we would carry them off and hide them and feed them till the trouble was over, and some day we would rise and set Ireland free. Oh, I would like to be queen of a tribe, lead them into battle, and shout 'For Ireland and Liberty!'"

At first no one had paid attention to what Winnie and Murtagh were saying, but as Winnie grew excited she spoke louder, and her last words were received with a general cheer. The children's spirits were rising to such a pitch that they were glad of any excuse for making a noise.

"And we'd follow you to the death, Miss Winnie," cried Pat O'Toole.

"That would we," exclaimed the others, enthusiastically. But at this moment their excitement was turned into another channel by an exclamation of "Hurrah, there's our tower!" which came from Bobbo, who was sitting on the shaft driving.

"Our tower" was a very old gray ruin of which scarcely anything remained. There was an enormously thick wall with an archway in it, and a worn flight of steps leading up through the thickness of the wall to a little room above the archway; and that, with the crumbling remains of walls which had once enclosed court-yards, on either side of the archway, formed the whole tower.

"Hurrah!" echoed the others as the cart stopped at the bottom of the slope. "Now then, out with us and to work as fast as we can!"

"You dear, dear old mountains, how I do love you!" cried Winnie, throwing herself flat upon the heather, whilst the others were descending from the cart. In another minute the cart was unyoked. Tommie was tethered to a tree, and the children, with their arms full of evergreens, swarmed up the slope and into the tower.

One wild scamper over the heather, a few rolls down the tower slope into the mossy ditch that divided it from the road, a thorough inspection of the tower to see that all was right, and then they set to work in earnest.

Many hands make light work, and soon the old gray walls began to smile under the garlands of pink, and white, and green, with which the children decorated them. Rosie was most useful. She had helped Cousin Jane last Christmas to decorate the parish church, and she had besides a natural gift for such work.

The work went on merrily until the last garland was arranged upon the throne they had erected in the centre of the court-yard. Then Murtagh drew Rosie aside to inquire if she didn't think it was time now "to go back to fetch Nessa and the feastables." Rosie thought it was. Everything was ready except the feast, and so with many rejoicings over this most delightful of birthdays, they got into the cart again and rattled home to fetch Nessa.

"Three cheers!" cried Murtagh, tossing his hat into the air. "I can hardly believe the time is really come. It seems too good to be true. I don't know which I like best, the ceremony or the feast."

"One's as good as the other, and they're both the most deliciousest plans that ever were invented," said Winnie in ecstasy. "And such a glorious day as we've got! Hurrah for the sun! Hurrah for the mountains! and hurrah for being happy and free!"

"And just think of that old brute, Mr. Plunkett, wanting to prevent us having it," chimed in Bobbo. "What harm does it do him, I'd like to know?"

But Rosie hated to think of disagreeable subjects when she was happy, so she said brightly: "Doesn't the tower look lovely? I never thought we should be able to make it so nice." The conversation went back to its happy strain, and Mr. Plunkett was forgotten.

They drove straight to the kitchen door and entered, calling out: "Here we are, Donnie; out with the goodies, and let us be off again."

The goodies, as they called them, were out already; and indeed Donnie had fulfilled her promise of giving them enough and to spare. Luckily for them she had more substantial notions than Murtagh of children's appetites, and in addition to the apple-pie and custards there were meat-pies and puddings, cakes and tarts. Donnie herself was bending over a saucepan at the fire, but she did not look round or make any answer to the children's salutation.

"Donnie, you are a brick!" exclaimed Winnie and Murtagh, simultaneously, at sight of the well-covered kitchen table.

"But how in the world are we going to get all those things packed to take with us?" added Murtagh. "It would be an awful pity to spoil them after you've made them look so nice."

"If you can't pack 'em, ye'd better leave them," returned Donnie, crossly. "But whatever ye're going to do ye'd better make haste and be out o' this. I can't be having the place overrun with children from mornin' to night."

"Hallo! Below! What's the matter?" inquired Bobbo.

"Matter! Don't be bothering me asking questions about everything. A body can't so much as sneeze but ye'll be asking why she did it. Here, put them in there," she added, coming over to the table and pulling out from under it a large white wicker hamper.

The children knew better than to say much to Donnie when she was in her present mood, so Rosie and Winnie began in silence to put some of the dishes into the hamper. However, they had not gone far in their packing before Mrs. Donegan burst out again:

"My good Lord, Miss Rosie! where do you suppose that pie-crust'll be by the time you get up the mountains if you go putting the things one on top of another in that fashion? Here, get out o' this wid yez! I'd rather do it myself." And down she went on her knees beside the hamper.

"Well, I don't know anything about packing. How could I?" replied Rosie, rather aggrieved. But Winnie was in too high spirits to stay quiet long. Suddenly snatching off Donnie's cap she transferred it to her own head, and began with a broad imitation of Donnie's brogue to scold the children all round and tell them to "get out o' this."

"Give me back my cap this minute, Miss Winnie! How dare ye behave in such a way?" exclaimed Mrs. Donegan. But Winnie detected a twinkle in her eye that showed she was near laughing, and returned audaciously:

"Well, you just stop being so grumpy, and tell us what's the matter. Here you are!" handing her back her cap. "Cover up your poor old head, and tell us now, what made you turn so sour?"

"Sour, indeed! Ye'd be sour enough yerself, too, if you were worritted and bothered the way I am with people writing and sayin', 'We'll be with you to-night,' as if the place was an hotel and a body hadn't enough to do without gettin' dinners and beds ready for all the rabble o' maids and fallalls they'll be bringing along with 'em. Why can't they give proper notice?"

"Cousin Jane!" exclaimed the children, in voices of consternation. "It can't be any one else, because you always get in this kind of a temper when she's coming."

"Yes; it is your cousin Jane, and poor little Master Frankie, and Miss Emma, and the Lord knows how many ladies' maids, and governesses, and sich like after them. And they can't give a word of notice; but they're driven across through the mountains for Miss Emma and the governess to be sketching; and they'll be with us to-night. 'Deed they might ha' stopped without us, and there'd ha' been no tears spilled."

"Oh, but Frankie!" cried Winnie, in delight. "How jolly! Why, yes, of course, Nessa told us ever so long ago that they were coming."

"Poor little Master Frankie! He's the only one o' the lot that's worth burying," replied Donnie, softening a little.

"He'll be here to-night, did you say?" said Winnie. "What a pity he didn't come yesterday. He would have enjoyed seeing the ceremony. Wouldn't he, Myrrh?"

"Yes," said Murtagh. "And isn't it a pity he can't ever come alone? As for the others—" An expressive shake of the head finished his sentence.

"Never mind them now," cried Rosie; "let us get Nessa and Ellie, and be off."

"You are a jolly old Donnie!" said Murtagh; "and we're having such fun! Won't they all open their eyes just when they see what we've got for them!"

"It's lucky you've got the things, I can tell you, for of course Mr. Plunkett must walk in to tell me about this nice little treat of Mrs. William coming, and he couldn't choose any minute of the day but just when I'd got them all laid out here on the table. However, ye've got 'em now, so be off with you," she added, laughing. "Here, Peggy, give me a hand with the hampers."

The hampers were heavy, but with assistance from Peggy and the children they were got safely into the cart. A chair was put in for Nessa to sit upon, then the cart was taken round in state to the hall door. Nessa and Ellie were handed in, and away Tommie started once more.

Nessa had not yet been among the hills, so she enjoyed the drive immensely, laughing like a child at the queer equipage and the jolts that threatened at every instant to upset both her and her chair. As they drew nearer to the last turn in the road which hid the tower from their sight, the children's excitement became almost uncontrollable. They had invented an ingenious reason for leaving Nessa at a pretty little spot they knew of, just out of sight of the tower, in order that all might burst upon her as a surprise when they led her up to be crowned; but when they reached the place all their reasons went out of their heads, and they landed her and her chair with no further explanation than an imperious command to "stay here till we come, and be sure not to stir."

"Whatever you do, you mustn't peep!" said the children. "We'll be as quick as ever we can." And with happy, excited faces they ran forward, patient Tommie trotting after them.