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diff --git a/16002.txt b/16002.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..48cada9 --- /dev/null +++ b/16002.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12880 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fardorougha, The Miser, by William Carleton + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Fardorougha, The Miser + The Works of William Carleton, Volume One + +Author: William Carleton + +Illustrator: M. L. Flanery + +Release Date: June 7, 2005 [EBook #16002] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FARDOROUGHA, THE MISER *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +FARDOROUGHA, THE MISER. + +By William Carleton + + + + +CONTENTS + + Part I. + Part II. + Part III. + Part IV. + Part V. + Part VI. + Part VII. + Part VIII. + + + + +PART I. + +Fardorougha, the Miser. + +It was on one of those nights in August, when the moon and stars shine +through an atmosphere clear and cloudless, with a mildness of lustre +almost continental, that a horseman, advancing at a rapid pace, turned +off a remote branch of road up a narrow lane, and, dismounting before a +neat whitewashed cottage, gave a quick and impatient knock at the door. +Almost instantly, out of a small window that opened on hinges, was +protruded a broad female face, surrounded, by way of nightcap, with +several folds of flannel, that had originally been white. + +"Is Mary Moan at home?" said the horseman. + +"For a miricle-ay!" replied the female; "who's _down_, in the name o' +goodness?" + +"Why, thin, I'm thinkin' you'll be smilin' whin you hear it," replied +the messenger. "The sorra one else than Honor Donovan, that's now marrid +upon Fardorougha Donovan to the tune of thirteen years. Bedad, time for +her, anyhow,--but, sure it'll be good whin it comes, we're thinkin'." + +"Well, betther late than never--the Lord be praised for all His gifts, +anyhow. Put your horse down to the mountin'-stone, and I'll be wid you +in half a jiffy, acushla." + +She immediately drew in her head, and ere the messenger had well placed +his horse at the aforesaid stirrup, or mounting-stone, which is an +indispensable adjunct to the midwife's cottage, she issued out, cloaked +and bonneted; for, in point of fact, her practice was so extensive, and +the demands upon her attendance so incessant, that she seldom, if ever, +slept or went to bed, unless partially dressed. And such was her habit +of vigilance, that she ultimately became an illustration of the old +Roman proverb, _Non dormio omnibus_; that is to say, she could sleep as +sound as a top to every possible noise except a knock at the door, to +which she might be said, during the greater part of her professional +life, to have been instinctively awake. + +Having ascended the mounting-stone, and placed herself on the crupper, +the guide and she, while passing down the narrow and difficult lane, +along which they could proceed but slowly and with caution, entered into +the following dialogue, she having first turned up the hood of her cloak +over her bonnet, and tied a spotted cotton kerchief round her neck. + +"This," said the guide, who was Fardorougha Donovan's servant-man, "is +a quare enough business, as some o' the nabors do be sayin--marrid upon +one another beyant thirteen year, an' ne'er a sign of a haporth. Why +then begad it is quare." + +"Whisht, whisht," replied Molly, with an expression of mysterious +and superior knowledge; "don't be spakin' about what you don't +understand--sure, nuttin's impossible to God, avick--don't you know +that?" + +"Oh, bedad, sure enough--that we must allow, whether or not, still--" + +"Very well; seein' that, what more have we to say, barrin' to hould our +tongues. Children sent late always come either for great good or great +sarra to their parents--an' God grant that this may be for good to the +honest people--for indeed honest people they are, by all accounts. But +what myself wonders at is, that Honor Donovan never once opened her lips +to me about it. However, God's will be done! The Lord send her safe over +all her throubles, poor woman! And, now that we're out o' this thief +of a lane, lay an for the bare life, and never heed me. I'm as good a +horseman as yourself; and, indeed, I've a good right, for I'm an ould +hand at it." + +"I'm thinkin'," she added, after a short silence, "it's odd I never was +much acquainted with the Donovans. I'm tould they're a hard pack, that +loves the money." + +"Faix," replied her companion, "Let Fardorougha alone for knowin' the +value of a shillin'!--they're not in Europe can hould a harder grip o' +one." + +His master, in fact, was a hard, frugal man, and his mistress a woman +of somewhat similar character; both were strictly honest, but, like +many persons to whom God has denied offspring, their hearts had for a +considerable time before been placed upon money as their idol; for, in +truth, the affections must be fixed upon something, and we generally +find that where children are denied, the world comes in and hardens by +its influence the best and tenderest sympathies of humanity. + +After a journey of two miles they came out on a hay-track, that skirted +an extensive and level sweep of meadow, along which they proceeded +with as much speed as a pillionless midwife was capable of bearing. +At length, on a gentle declivity facing the south, they espied in the +distance the low, long, whitewashed farm-house of Fardorougha Donovan. +There was little of artificial ornament about the place, but much of the +rough, heart-stirring wildness of nature, as it appeared in a strong, +vigorous district, well cultivated, but without being tamed down by +those finer and more graceful touches, which nowadays mark the skilful +hand of the scientific agriculturist. + +To the left waved a beautiful hazel glen, which gradually softened away +into the meadows above mentioned. Up behind the house stood an ancient +plantation of whitethorn, which, during the month of May, diffused its +fragrance, its beauty, and its melody, over the whole farm. The plain +garden was hedged round by the graceful poplar, whilst here and there +were studded over the fields either single trees or small groups of +mountain ash, a tree still more beautiful than the former. The small +dells about the farm were closely covered with blackthorn and holly, +with an occasional oak shooting up from some little cliff, and towering +sturdily over its lowly companions. Here grew a thick interwoven mass of +dog-tree, and upon a wild hedgerow, leaning like a beautiful wife upon +a rugged husband, might be seen, supported by clumps of blackthorn, that +most fragrant and exquisite of creepers, the delicious honeysuckle. Add +to this the neat appearance of the farm itself, with its meadows and +cornfields waving to the soft sunny breeze of summer, and the reader +may admit, that without possessing any striking features of pictorial +effect, it would, nevertheless, be difficult to find an uplying farm +upon which the eye could rest with greater satisfaction. + +Ere arriving at the house they were met by Fardorougha himself, a small +man, with dark, but well-set features, which being at no time very +placid, appeared now to be absolutely gloomy, yet marked by strong and +profound, anxiety. + +"Thank God!" he exclaimed on meeting them; "is this Mary Moan?" + +"It is--it is!" she exclaimed; "how are all within?--am I in time?" + +"Only poorly," he returned; "you are, I hope." + +The midwife, when they reached the door, got herself dismounted in all +haste, and was about entering the house, when Fardorougha, laying his +hand upon her shoulder, said in a tone of voice full of deep feeling-- + +"I need say nothing to you; what you can do, you will do--but one thing +I expect--if you see danger, call in assistance." + +"It's all in the hands o' God, Fardorougha, acushla; be as aisy in your +mind as you can; if there's need for more help you'll hear it; so keep +the man an' horse both ready." + +She then blessed herself and entered the house, repeating a short +prayer, or charm, which was supposed to possess uncommon efficacy in +relieving cases of the nature she was then called upon to attend. + +Fardorougha Donovan was a man of great good sense, and of strong, but +not obvious or flexible feeling; this is to say, on strong occasions he +felt accordingly, but exhibited no remarkable symptoms of emotion. +In matters of a less important character, he was either deficient in +sensibility altogether, or it affected him so slightly as not to be +perceptible. What his dispositions and feelings might have been, had +his parental affections and domestic sympathies been cultivated by the +tender intercourse which subsists between a parent and his children, +it is not easy to say. On such occasions many a new and delightful +sensation--many a sweet trait of affection previously unknown--and, oh! +many, many a fresh impulse of rapturous emotion never before felt gushes +out of the heart; all of which, were it not for the existence of ties +so delightful, might have there lain sealed up forever. Where is the man +who does not remember the strange impression of tumultuous delight which +he experienced on finding himself a husband? And who does not recollect +that nameless charm, amounting almost to a new sense, which pervaded his +whole being with tenderness and transport on kissing the rose-bud lips +of his first-born babe? It is, indeed, by the ties of domestic life that +the purity and affection and the general character of the human heart +are best tried. What is there more beautiful than to see that fountain +of tenderness multiplying its affections instead of diminishing them, +according as claim after claim arises to make fresh demands upon its +love? Love, and especially parental love, like jealousy, increases +by what it feeds on. But, oh! from what an unknown world of exquisite +enjoyment are they shut out, to whom Providence has not vouchsafed +those beloved beings on whom the heart lavishes the whole fulness of its +rapture! No wonder that their own affections should wither in the cold +gloom of disappointed hope, or their hearts harden into that moody +spirit of worldly-mindedness which adopts for its offspring the miser's +idol. + +Whether Fardorougha felt the want of children acutely or otherwise, +could not be inferred from any visible indication of regret on his part +by those who knew him. His own wife, whose facilities of observation +were so great and so frequent, was only able to suspect in the +affirmative. For himself he neither murmured nor repined; but she could +perceive that, after a few years had passed, a slight degree of gloom +began to settle on him, and an anxiety about his crops, and his few +cattle, and the produce of his farm. He also began to calculate the +amount of what might be saved from the fruits of their united industry. +Sometimes, but indeed upon rare occasions, his temper appeared inclining +to be irascible or impatient; but in general it was grave, cold, +and inflexible, without any outbreaks of passion, or the slightest +disposition to mirth. His wife's mind, however, was by no means so firm +as his, nor so free from the traces of that secret regret which preyed +upon it. She both murmured and repined, and often in terms which drew +from Fardorougha a cool rebuke for her want of resignation to the will +of God. As years advanced, however, her disappointment became harassing +even to herself, and now that hope began to die away, her heart +gradually partook of the cool worldly spirit which had seized upon the +disposition of her husband, Though cultivating but a small farm, which +they held at a high rent, yet, by the dint of frugality and incessant +diligence, they were able to add a little each year to the small stock +of money which they had contrived to put together. Still would the +unhappy recollection that they were childless steal painfully and +heavily over them; the wife would sometimes murmur, and the husband +reprove her, but in a tone so cool and indifferent that she could not +avoid concluding that his own want of resignation, though not expressed, +was at heart equal to her own. Each also became somewhat religious, +and both remarkable for a punctual attendance upon the rites of their +church, and that in proportion as the love of temporal things overcame +them. In this manner they lived upwards of thirteen years, when Mrs. +Donovan declared herself to be in that situation which in due time +rendered the services of Mary Moan necessary. + +From the moment this intimation was! given, and its truth confirmed, a +faint light, not greater than the dim and trembling lustre of a single +star, broke in upon the darkened affections and worldly spirit +of Fardorougha Donovan. Had the announcement taken place within a +reasonable period after his marriage, before he had become sick of +disappointment, or had surrendered his heart from absolute despair to an +incipient spirit of avarice, it would no doubt have been hailed with all +the eager delight of unblighted hope and vivid affection; but now a +new and subtle habit had been superinduced, after the last cherished +expectation of the heart had departed; a spirit of foresight and severe +calculation descended on him, and had so nearly saturated his whole +being, that he could not for some time actually determine whether the +knowledge of his wife's situation was more agreeable to his affection, +or repugnant to the parsimonious disposition which had quickened his +heart into an energy incompatible with natural benevolence, and the +perception of those tender ties which spring up from the relations of +domestic life. For a considerable time this struggle between the two +principles went on; sometimes a new hope would spring up, attended in +the background by a thousand affecting circumstances--on the other hand, +some gloomy and undefinable dread of exigency, distress, and ruin, +would wring his heart and sink his spirits down to positive misery. +Notwithstanding this conflict between growing avarice and affection, +the star of the father's love had risen, and though, as we have already +said, its light was dim and unsteady, yet the moment a single opening +occurred in the clouded mind, there it was to be seen serene and pure, +a beautiful emblem of undying and solitary affection struggling with +the cares and angry passions of life. By degrees, however, the +husband's heart became touched by the hopes of his younger years, +former associations revived, and remembrances of past tenderness, though +blunted in a heart so much changed, came over him like the breath +of fragrance that has nearly passed away. He began, therefore, to +contemplate the event without foreboding, and by the time the looked-for +period arrived, if the world and its debasing influences were not +utterly overcome, yet nature and the quickening tenderness of a father's +feeling had made a considerable progress in a heart from which they had +been long banished. Far different from all this was the history of +his wife since her perception of an event so delightful. In her was no +bitter and obstinate principle subversive of affection to be overcome. +For although she had in latter years sank into the painful apathy of a +hopeless spirit, and given herself somewhat to the world, yet no sooner +did the unexpected light dawn upon her, than her whole soul was filled +with exultation and delight. The world and its influence passed away +like a dream, and her heart melted into a habit of tenderness at once +so novel and exquisite, that she often assured her husband she had never +felt happiness before. + +Such are the respective states of feeling in which our readers find +Fardorougha Donovan and his wife, upon an occasion whose consequences +run too far into futurity for us to determine at present whether they +are to end in happiness or misery. For a considerable time that evening, +before the arrival of Mary Moan, the males of the family had taken up +their residence in an inside kiln, where, after having kindled a fire +in the draught-hole, or what the Scotch call the "logie," they sat and +chatted in that kind of festive spirit which such an event uniformly +produces among the servants of a family. Fardorougha himself remained +for the most part with them, that is to say except while ascertaining +from time to time the situation of his wife. His presence, however, was +only a restraint upon their good-humor, and his niggardly habits raised +some rather uncomplimentary epithets during his short visits of inquiry. +It is customary upon such occasions, as soon as the mistress of the +family is taken ill, to ask the servants to drink "an aisy bout to the +misthress, sir, an' a speedy recovery, not forgettin' a safe landin' to +the youngsther, and, like a Christmas compliment, many of them to +you both. Whoo! death alive, but that's fine stuff. Oh, begorra, the +misthress can't but thrive wid that in the house. Thank you, sir, an' +wishin' her once more safe over her troubles!--divil a betther misthress +ever," etc., etc., etc. + +Here, however, there was nothing of the kind. Fardorougha's heart, in +the first instance, was against the expense, and besides, its present +broodings resembled the throes of pain which break out from the stupor +that presses so heavily upon the exhausted functions of life in the +crisis of a severe fever. He could not, in fact, rest nor remain for any +length of time in the same spot. With a slow but troubled step he walked +backward and forward, sometimes uttering indistinct ejaculations +and broken sentences, such as no one could understand. At length he +approached his own servants, and addressed the messenger whose name was +Nogher M'Cormick. + +"Nogher," said he, "I'm throubled." + +"Throubled! dad, Fardorougha, you ought to be a happy and a thankful man +this night, that is, if God sinds the misthress safe over it, as I hope +He will, plase goodness." + +"I'm poor, Nogher, I'm poor, an' here's a family comin'." + +"Faith, take care it's not sin you're com-mittin' by spakin' as you're +doin'." + +"But you know I'm poor, Nogher." + +"But I know you're _not_, Fardorougha; but I'm afraid, if God hasn't +said it, your heart's too much fix'd upon the world. Be my faix, it's +on your knees you ought to be this same night, thankin' the Almighty for +His goodness, and not grumblin' an' sthreelin' about the place, flyin' +in the face of God for sendin' you an' your wife ablessin'--for sure I +hear the Scripthur says that all childhres a blessin' if they're +resaved as sich; an' wo be to the man, says Scripthur, dat's born wid a +millstone about his neck, especially if he's cast into the say. I know +you pray enough, but, be my sowl, it hasn't improved your morals, or +it's the misthress' health we'd be drinkin' in a good bottle o' whiskey +at the present time. Faix, myself wouldn't be much surprised if she had +a hard twist in consequence, an' if she does, the fault's your own an' +not ours, for we're willin' as the flowers o' May to drink all sorts o' +good luck to her." + +"Nogher," said the other, "it's truth a great dale of what you've +sed--maybe all of it." + +"Faith, I know," returned Nogher, "that about the whiskey it's parfit +gospel." + +"In one thing I'll be advised by you, an' that is, I'll go to my +knees and pray to God to set my heart right if it's wrong. I feel +strange--strange, Nogher--happy, an' not happy." + +"You needn't go to your knees at all," replied Nogher, "if you give us +the whiskey; or if you do pray, be in earnest, that your heart may be +inclined to do it." + +"You desarve none for them words," said Fardorougha, who felt that +Nogher's buffoonery jarred upon the better feelings that were rising +within him--"you desarve none, an' you'll get none--for the present at +laste, an' I'm only a fool for spaking to you." + +He then retired to the upper part of the kiln, where, in a dark corner, +he knelt with a troubled heart, and prayed to God. + +We doubt not but such readers as possess feeling will perceive that +Fardorougha was not only an object at this particular period of +much interest, but also entitled to sincere sympathy. Few men in his +circumstances could or probably would so earnestly struggle with a +predominant passion as he did, though without education, or such a +knowledge of the world as might enable him, by any observation of the +human heart in others, to understand the workings in his own. He had +not been ten minutes at prayer when the voice of his female servant was +heard in loud and exulting tones, calling out, ere she approached the +kiln itself-- + +"Fardorougha, ca woul thu?--Where's my footin', masther? Where's +my arles?--Come in--come in, you're a waitin' to kiss your son--the +misthress is dyin' till you kiss our son." + +The last words were uttered as she entered the kiln. + +"Dyin'!" he repeated--"the misthress dyin'--oh Susy, let a thousand +childre go before her--dyin'! did you say dyin'?" + +"Ay did I, an' it's truth too; but it's wid joy she's dyin' to see +you kiss one of the purtiest young boys in all the barony of +Lisnamona--myself's over head and ears in love wid him already." + +He gave a rapid glance upwards, so much so that it was scarcely +perceptible, and immediately accompanied her into the house. The child, +in the meantime, had been dressed, and lay on its mother's arm in the +bed when its father entered. He approached the bedside and glanced at +it--then at the mother who lay smiling beside it--she extended her hand +to him, whilst the soft, sweet tears of delight ran quietly down her +cheeks. When he seized her hand he stooped to kiss her, but she put up +her other hand and said-- + +"No, no, you must kiss him first." + +[Illustration: PAGE 191-- Imprinted the father's first kiss] + +He instantly stooped over the babe, took it in his arms, looked long +and earnestly upon it, put it up near him, again gave it a long, intense +gaze, after which he raised its little mouth to his own, and then +imprinted the father's first kiss upon the fragrant lips of his beloved +first-born. Having gently deposited the precious babe upon its mother's +arm, he caught her hand and imprinted upon her lips a kiss;--but to +those who understand it, we need not describe it--to those who cannot, +we could give no adequate notion of that which we are able in no other +way to describe than by saying that it would seem as if the condensed +enjoyment of a whole life were concentrated into that embrace of the +child and mother. + +When this tender scene was over, the midwife commenced-- + +"Well, if ever a man had raison to be thank--" + +"Silence, woman!" he exclaimed in a voice which hushed her almost into +terror. + +"Let him alone," said the wife, addressing her, "let him alone, I know +what he feels." + +"No," he replied, "even you, Honora, don't know it--my heart, my heart +went astray, and there, undher God and my Saviour, is the being that +will be the salvation of his father." + +His wife understood him and was touched; the tears fell fast from her +eyes, and, extending her hand to him, she said, as he clasped it: + +"Sure, Fardorougha, the world won't be as much in your heart now, nor +your temper so dark as it was." + +He made no reply; but, placing his other hand over his eyes, he sat +in that posture for some minutes. On raising his head the tears were +running as if involuntarily down his cheeks. + +"Honora," said he, "I'll go out for a little--you can tell Mary Moan +where anything's to be had--let them all be trated so as that they don't +take too much--and, Mary Moan, you won't be forgotten." + +He then passed out, and did not appear for upwards of an hour, nor could +any one of them tell where he had been. + +"Well," said Honora, after he had left the room, "we're now married near +fourteen years; and until this night I never see him shed a tear." + +"But sure, acushla, if anything can touch a father's heart, the sight +of his first child will. Now keep yourself aisy, avourneen, and tell +me where the whiskey an' anything else that may be a wantin' is, till I +give these crathurs of sarvints a dhrop of something to comfort thim." + +At this time, however, Mrs. Donovan's mother and two sisters, who had +some hours previously been sent for, just arrived, a circumstance which +once more touched the newly awakened chord of the mother's heart, and +gave her that confidence which the presence of "one's own blood," as +the people expressed it, always communicates upon such occasions. After +having kissed and admired the babe, and bedewed its face with the warm +tears of affection, they piously knelt down, as is the custom among most +Irish families, and offered up a short but fervent prayer of gratitude +as well for an event so happy, as for her safe delivery, and the future +welfare of the mother and child. When this was performed, they set +themselves to the distribution of the blithe meat or groaning malt, +a duty which the midwife transferred to them with much pleasure, this +being a matter which, except in matters of necessity, she considered +beneath the dignity of her profession. The servants were accordingly +summoned in due time, and, headed by Nogher, soon made their appearance. +In events of this nature, servants in Ireland, and we believe everywhere +else, are always allowed a considerable stretch of good-humored license +in those observations which they are in the habit of making. Indeed, +this is not so much an extemporaneous indulgence of wit on their part, +as a mere repetition of the set phrases and traditionary apothegms +which have been long established among the peasantry, and as they are +generally expressive of present satisfaction and good wishes for the +future, so would it be looked upon as churlishness, and in some cases, +on the part of the servants, a sign of ill-luck, to neglect them. + +"Now," said Honora's mother to the servants of both sexes, "now, +childre, that you've aite a trifle, you must taste something in the way +of dhrink. It would be too bad on this night above all nights we've seen +yet, not to have a glass to the stranger's health at all events. Here, +Nogher, thry this, avick--you never got a glass wid a warmer heart." + +Nogher took the liquor, his grave face charged with suppressed humor, +and first looking upon his fellow-servants with a countenance so droll +yet dry, that none but themselves understood, it, he then directed a +very sober glance at the good woman. + +"Thank you, ma'am," he exclaimed; "be goxty, sure enough if our hearts +wouldn't get warm now, they'd never warm. A happy night it is for +Fardorougha and the misthress, at any rate. I'll engage the stranger +was worth waitin' for, too. I'll hould a thrifle, he's the beauty o' +the world this minnit--an' I'll engage it's breeches we'll have to be I +gettin for him some o' these days, the darlin'. Well, here's his health, +any way; an' may he----" + +"Husth, arogorah!" exclaimed the mid-wife; "stop, I say--the tree afore +the fruit, all the world over; don't you know, an' bad win to you, that +if the sthranger was to go to-morrow, as good might come afther him, +while the paarent stocks are to the fore. The mother an' father first, +acushla, an' thin the sthranger." + +"Many thanks to you, Mrs. Moan," replied Nogher, "for settin' me +right--sure we'll know something ourselves whin it comes our turn, plase +goodness. If the misthress isn't asleep, by goxty, I'd call in to her, +that I'm dhrinkin' her health." + +"She's not asleep," said her mother; "an' proud she'll be, poor thing, +to hear you, Nogher." + +"Misthress!" he said in a loud voice, "are you asleep, ma'am?" + +"No, indeed, Nogher," she replied, in a good-humored tone of voice. + +"Well, ma'am," said Nogher, still in a loud voice, and scratching his +head, "here's your health; an' now that the ice is bruk--be goxty, an' +so it is sure," said he in an undertone to the rest--"Peggy, behave +yourself," he continued, to one of the servant-maids, "mockin's +catchin': faix, you dunna what's afore yourself yet--beg pardon--I'm +forgettin' myself--an' now that the ice is bruk, ma'am," he resumed, +"you must be dacent for the futher. Many a bottle, plase goodness, we'll +have this way yet. Your health, ma'am, an' a speedy recovery to you--an' +a sudden uprise--not forgettin' the masther--long life to him!" + +"What!" said the midwife, "are you forgettin' the sthranger?" + +Nogher looked her full in the face, and opened his mouth, without saying +a word, literally pitched the glass of spirits to the very bottom of his +throat. + +"Beggin' your pardon, ma'am," he replied, "is it three healths you'd +have me dhrink wid the one glassful?--not myself, indeed; faix, I'd be +long sorry to make so little of him--if he was a bit of a _girsha_ I'd +not scruple to give him a corner o' the glass, but, bein' a young man +althers the case intirely--he must have a bumper for himself." + +"A girsha!" said Peggy, his fellow-servant, feeling the indignity just +offered to her sex--"Why thin, bad manners to your assurance for that +same: a girsha's as well intitled to a full glass as a gorsoon, any +day." + +"Husth a colleen," said Nogher, good--humoredly, "sure, it's takin' +pattern by sich a fine example you ought to be. This, Mrs. Moan, is the +purty crature I was mintionin' as we came along, that intends to get +spanshelled wid myself some o' these days--that is, if she can bring me +into good-humor, the thief." + +"And if it does happen," said Peggy, "you'll have to look sharper afther +him, Mrs. Moan. He's pleasant enough now, but I'll be bound no man 'ill +know betther how to hang his fiddle behind the door when he comes home +to us." + +"Well, acushla, sure he may, if he likes, but if he does, he knows +what's afore him--not sayin' that he ever will, I hope, for it's a woful +case whin it comes to that, ahagur." + +"Faix, it's a happy story for half the poor wives of the parish that +you're in it," said Peggy, "sure, only fore----" + +"_Be dhe huath Vread, agus glak sho_--hould your tongue, Peggy, and +taste this," said the mother of her mistress, handing her a glass: "If +you intend to go together, in the name o' goodness fear God more than +the midwife, if you want to have luck an' grace." + +"Oh, is it all this?" exclaimed the sly girl; "faix, it 'ill make +me hearty if I dhrink so much--bedeed it will. Well, misthress, your +health, an' a speedy uprise to you--an' the same to the masther, not +forgettin' the sthranger--long life an' good health to him." + +She then put the glass to her lips, and after several small sips, +appearing to be so many unsuccessful attempts at overcoming her +reluctance to drink it, she at length took courage, and bolting it down, +immediately applied her apron to her mouth, making at the same time two +or three wry faces, gasping, as if to recover the breath which it did +not take from her. + +The midwife, in the mean time, felt that the advice just given to Nogher +and Peggy contained a clause somewhat more detrimental to her importance +than was altogether agreeable to her; and to sit calmly under any +imputation that involved a diminution of her authority, was not within +the code of her practice. + +"If they go together," she observed, "it's right to fear God, no doubt; +but that's no raison why they shouldn't pay respect to thim that can +sarve thim or otherwise." + +"Nobody says aginst that, Mrs. Moan," replied the other; "it's all fair, +an' nothin' else." + +"A midwife's nuttin' in your eyes, we suppose," rejoined Mrs. Moan; "but +maybe's there's thim belongin' to you could tell to the contrary." + +"Oblaged to you, we suppose, for your sarvices--an' we're not denyin' +that, aither." + +"For me sarvices--maybe thim same sarvices wasn't very sweet or +treaclesome to some o' thim," she rejoined, with a mysterious and +somewhat indignant toss of the head. + +"Well, well," said the other in a friendly tone, "that makes no maxims +one way or the other, only dhrink this--sure we're not goin' to quarrel +about it, any how." + +"God forbid, Honora More! but sure it ud ill become me to hear my own +corree--no, no, avourneen," she exclaimed, putting hack the glass; "I +can't take it this--a--way; it doesn't agree wid me; you must put a +grain o' shugar an' a dhrop o' bilin' wather to it. It may do very well +hard for the sarvints, but I'm not used to it." + +"I hird that myself afore," observed Nogher, "that she never dhrinks +hard whiskey. Well, myself never tasted punch but wanst, an' be goxty +its great dhrink. Death alive, Honora More," he continued, in his most +insinuating manner, "make us all a sup. Sure, blood alive, this is not +a common night, afther what God has sint us: Fardorougha himself would +allow you, if he was here; deed, be dad, he as good as promised me he +would; an' you know we have the young customer's health to drink yet." + +"Throth, an' you ought," said the mid-wife; "the boy says nuttin' but +the thruth--it's not a common night; an' if God has given Fardorougha +substance, he shouldn't begridge a little, if it was only to show a +grateful heart." + +"Well, well," said Honora More--which means great Honora, in opposition +to her daughter, Fardorougha's wife; this being an epithet adopted for +the purpose of contradistinguishing the members of a family when called +by the same name--"Well," said she, "I suppose it's as good. My own +heart, dear knows, is not in a thrifle, only I have my doubts about +Fardorougha. However, what's done can't be undone; so, once we mix it, +he'll be too late to spake if he comes in, any way." + +The punch was accordingly mixed, and they were in the act of sitting +down to enjoy themselves with more comfort when Fardorougha entered. +As before, he was silent and disturbed, neither calm nor stern, but +laboring, one would suppose, under strong feelings of a decidedly +opposite character. On seeing the punch made, his brow gathered into +something like severity; he looked quickly at his mother-in-law, and was +about to speak, but, pausing a moment, he sat down, and after a little +time said in a kind voice-- + +"It's right, it's right--for his sake, an' on his account, have it; but, +Honora, let there be no waste." + +"Sure we had to make it for Mrs. Moan whether or not," said his +mother-in-law, "she can't drink it hard, poor woman." + +Mrs. Moan, who had gone to see her patient, having heard his voice +again, made her appearance with the child in her arms, and with all +the importance which such a burden usually bestows upon persons of her +calling. + +"Here," said she, presenting him the infant, "take a proper look at +this fellow. That I may never, if a finer swaddy ever crossed my hands. +Throth if you wor dead tomorrow he'd be mistaken for you--your born +image--the sorra thing else--eh alanna--the Lord loves my son--faix, +you've daddy's nose upon you anyhow--an' his chin to a turn. Oh, thin, +Fardorougha, but there's many a couple rowlin' in wealth that 'ud be +proud to have the likes of him; an' that must die an' let it all go +to strangers, or to them that doesn't care about them, 'ceptin' to get +grabbin' at what they have, that think every day a year that they're +above the sod. What! manim-an--kiss your child, man alive. That I may +never, but he looks at the darlin' as if it was a sod of turf. Throth +you're not worthy of havin' such a bully." + +Fardorougha, during this dialogue, held the child in his arms and +looked upon it earnestly as before, but without betraying any visible +indication of countenance that could enable a spectator to estimate the +nature of what passed within him. At length there appeared in his eye a +barely perceptible expression of benignity, which, however, soon passed +away, and was replaced by a shadow of gloom and anxiety. Nevertheless, +in compliance with the commands of the midwife, he kissed its lips, +after which the servants all gathered round it, each lavishing upon the +little urchin those hyperbolical expressions of flattery, which, after +all, most parents are willing to receive as something approximating to +gospel truth. + +"Bedad," said Nogher, "that fellow 'ill be the flower o' the Donovans, +if God spares him--be goxty, I'll engage he'll give the purty girls many +a sore heart yet--he'll play the dickens wid 'em, or I'm not here--a +wough! do you hear how the young rogue gives tongue at that? the sorra +one o' the shaver but knows what I'm savin'." + +Nogher always had an eye to his own comfort, no matter under what +circumstances he might be placed. Having received the full glass, he +grasped his master's hand, and in the usual set phrases, to which, +however, was added much extempore matter of his own, he drank the baby's +health, congratulating the parents, in his own blunt way, upon this +accession to their happiness. The other servants continued to pour +out their praises in terms of delight and astonishment at his +accomplishments and beauty, each, in imitation of Nogher, concluding +with a toast in nearly the same words. + +How sweet from all other lips is the praise of those we love! +Fardorougha, who, a moment before, looked upon his infant's face with an +unmoved countenance, felt incapable of withstanding the flattery of +his own servants when uttered in favor of the child. His eye became +complacent, and while Nogher held his hand, a slight pressure in return +was proof sufficient that his heart beat in accordance with the hopes +they expressed of all that the undeveloped future might bestow upon him. + +When their little treat was over, the servants withdrew for the +night, and Fardorougha himself, still laboring under an excitement so +complicated and novel, retired rather to shape his mind to some definite +tone of feeling than to seek repose. + +How strange is life, and how mysteriously connected is the woe or the +weal of a single family with the great mass of human society! We beg the +reader to stand with us upon a low, sloping hill, a little to the left +of Fardorougha's house, and, after having solemnized his heart by a +glance at the starry gospel of the skies, to cast his eye upon the long, +white-washed dwelling, as it shines faintly in the visionary distance of +a moonlight night. How full of tranquil beauty is the hour, and how +deep the silence, except when it is broken by the loud baying of the +watch-dog, as he barks in sullen fierceness at his own echo! Or perhaps +there is nothing heard but the sugh of the mountain river, as with +booming sound it rises and falls in the distance, filling the ear of +midnight with its wild and continuous melody. Look around, and observe +the spirit of repose which sleeps on the face of nature; think upon the +dream of human life, and of all the inexplicable wonders which are read +from day to day in that miraculous page--the heart of man. Neither your +eye nor imagination need pass beyond that humble roof before you, in +which it is easy to perceive, by the lights passing at this unusual hour +across the windows, that there is something added either to their joy or +to their sorrow. There is the mother, in whose heart was accumulated +the unwasted tenderness of years, forgetting all the past in the first +intoxicating influence of an unknown ecstasy, and looking to the future +with the eager aspirations of affection. There is the husband, too, for +whose heart the lank devil of the avaricious--the famine-struck god +of the miser--is even now contending with the almost extinguished love +which springs up in a father's bosom on the sight of his first-born. + +Reader, who can tell whether the entrancing visions of the happy mother, +or the gloomy anticipations of her apprehensive husband, are most +prophetic of the destiny which is before their child. Many indeed and +various are the hopes and fears felt under that roof, and deeply will +their lights and shadows be blended in the life of the being whose +claims are so strong upon their love. There, for some time past the +lights in the window have appeared less frequently--one by one we +presume the inmates have gone to repose--no other is now visible--the +last candle is extinguished, and this humble section of the great +family of man is now at rest with the veil of a dark and fearful future +unlifted before them. + +There is not perhaps in the series of human passions any one so +difficult to be eradicated out of the bosom as avarice, no matter with +what seeming moderation it puts itself forth, or under what disguise it +may appear. And among all its cold-blooded characteristics there is none +so utterly unaccountable as that frightful dread of famine and ultimate +starvation, which is also strong in proportion to the impossibility of +its ever being realized. Indeed, when it arrives to this we should not +term it a passion, but a malady, and in our opinion the narrow-hearted +patient should be prudently separated from society, and treated as one +laboring under an incurable species of monomania. + +During the few days that intervened between our hero's birth and his +christening, Fardorougha's mind was engaged in forming some fixed +principle by which to guide his heart in the conflict that still went on +between avarice and affection. In this task he imagined that the father +predominated over the miser almost without a struggle; whereas, the fact +was, that the subtle passion, ever more ingenious than the simple +one, changed its external character, and came out in the shape of +affectionate forecast and provident regard for the wants and prospects +of his child. This gross deception of his own heart he felt as a relief; +for, though smitten with the world, it did not escape him that the +birth of his little one, all its circumstances considered, ought to have +caused him to feel an enjoyment unalloyed by the care and regret which +checked his sympathies as a parent. Neither was conscience itself +altogether silent, nor the blunt remonstrances of his servants wholly +without effect. Nay, so completely was his judgment overreached that he +himself attributed this anomalous state of feeling to a virtuous effort +of Christian duty, and looked upon the encroachments which a desire of +saving wealth had made on his heart as a manifest proof of much parental +attachment. He consequently loved his wealth through the medium of his +son, and laid it down as a fixed principle that every act of parsimony +on his part was merely one of prudence, and had the love of a father and +an affectionate consideration for his child's future welfare to justify +it. + +The first striking instance of this close and griping spirit appeared +upon an occasion which seldom fails to open, in Ireland at least, all +the warm and generous impulses of our mature. When his wife deemed +it necessary to make those hospitable preparations for their child's +christening, which are so usual in the country, he treated her intention +of complying with this old custom as a direct proof--of unjustifiable +folly and extravagance--nay, his remonstrance with her exhibited such +remarkable good sense and prudence, that it was a matter of extreme +difficulty to controvert it, or to perceive that it originated from any +other motive than a strong interest in the true welfare of their child. + +"Will our wasting meat and money, an' for that matthur health and time, +on his christenin', aither give him more health or make us love him +betther? It's not the first time; Honora, that I've heard yourself make +little of some of our nabors for goin' beyant their ability in gettin' +up big christenins. Don't be foolish now thin when it comes to your own +turn." + +The wife took the babe up, and, after having gazed affectionately on +its innocent features, replied to him, in a voice of tenderness and +reproof-- + +"God knows, Fardorougha, an' if I do act wid folly, as you call it, in +gettin' ready his christenin', surely, surely you oughtn't to blame the +mother for that. Little I thought, acushla oge, that your own father +'ud begrudge you as good a christenin' as is put over any other nabor's +child. I'm afraid, Fardorougha, he's not as much in your heart as he +ought to be." + +"It's a bad proof of love for him, Honora, to put to the bad what +may an' would be serviceable to him hereafter. You only think for the +present; but I can't forget that he's to be settled in the world, an' +you know yourself what poor means we have o' doin' that, an' that if we +begin to be extravagant an' wasteful, bekase God has sent him, we may +beg wid him afore long." + +"There's no danger of us beggin' wid him. No," she continued, the +pride of the mother having been touched, "my boy will never beg--no, +avourneen--you never will--nor shame or disgrace will never come upon +him aither. Have you no trust in God, Fardorougha?" + +"God never helps them that neglect themselves, Honora." + +"But if it was plasing to His will to remove him from us, would you ever +forgive yourself not lettin' him have a christenin' like another child?" +rejoined the persevering mother. + +"The priest," replied the good man, "will do as much for the poor child +as the rich; there's but one sacrament for both; anything else is waste, +as I said, an' I won't give in to it. You don't considher that your +way of it 'ud spend as much in one day as 'ud clothe him two or three +years." + +"May I never sin this day, Fardorougha, but one 'ud think you're tired +of him already. By not givin' in to what's dacent you know you'll +only fret me--a thing that no man wid half a heart 'ud do to any woman +supportin' a babby as I am. A fretted nurse makes a child sick, as Molly +Moan tould you before she went; so that it's not on my own account I'm +spakin', but on his--poor, weeny pet--the Lord love him! Look at his +innocent purty little face, an' how can you have the heart, Fardorougha? +Come, avourneen, give way to me this wanst; throth, if you do, you'll +see how I'll nurse him, an' what a darlin' lump o' sugar I'll have him +for you in no time!" + +He paused a little at this delicate and affecting appeal of the mother; +but, except by a quick glance that passed from her to their child, +it was impossible to say whether or not it made any impression on his +heart, or in the slightest degree changed his resolution. + +"Well, well," said he, "let me alone now. I'll think of it. I'll turn it +over an' see what's best to be done; do you the same, Honora, an' may be +your own sinse will bring you to my side of the question at last." + +The next day, his wife renewed the subject with unabated anxiety; but, +instead of expressing any change in her favor, Fardorougha declined even +to enter into it at all. An evasive reply was all she could extract from +him, with an assurance that he would in a day or two communicate the +resolution to which he had finally come. She perceived, at once, that +the case was hopeless, and, after one last ineffectual attempt to bring +him round, she felt herself forced to abandon it. The child, therefore, +much to the mother's mortification, was baptized without a christening, +unless the mere presence of the godfather and godmother, in addition to +Fardorougha's own family, could be said to constitute one. + +Our readers, perhaps, are not aware that a cause of deep anxiety, +hitherto unnoticed by us, operated with latent power upon Fardorougha's +heart. But so strong in Ireland is the beautiful superstition--if it can +with truth be termed so--that children are a blessing only when received +as such, that, even though supported by the hardest and most shameless +of all vices, avarice, Fardorougha had not nerve to avow this most +unnatural source for his distress. The fact, however, was, that, to a +mind so constituted, the apprehension of a large family was in itself +a consideration, which he thought might, at a future period of their +lives, reduce both him and his to starvation and death. Our readers may +remember Nogher M'Cormick's rebuke to him, when he heard Fardorougha +allude to this; and so accessible was he then to the feeling, that, on +finding his heart at variance with it, he absolutely admitted his error, +and prayed to God that he might be enabled to overcome it. + +It was, therefore, on the day after the baptism of young Connor, for +so had the child been called after his paternal grandfather, that, as a +justification for his own conduct in the matter of the christening, +he disclosed to his wife, with much reluctance and embarrassment, this +undivulged source of his fears for the future, alleging it as a just +argument for his declining to be guided by her opinion. + +The indignant sympathies of the mother abashed, on this occasion, the +miserable and calculating impiety of the husband; her reproaches were +open and unshrinking, and her moral sense of his conduct just and +beautiful. + +"Fardorougha," said she, "I thought, up to this time, to this day, that +there was nothing in your heart but too much of the world; but now I'm +afeard, if God hasn't sed it, that the devil himself's there. You're +frettin' for 'fraid of a family; but has God sent us any but this one +yet? No--an' I wouldn't be surprised, if the Almighty should punish your +guilty heart, by making the child he gave you, a curse, instead of a +blessin'. I think, as it is, he has brought little pleasure to you for +so far, and, if your heart hardens as he grows up, it's more unhappy +you'll get every day you live." + +"That's very fine talk, Honora; but to people in our condition, I can't +see any very great blessin' in a houseful of childre. If we're able to +provide for this one, we'll have raison to be thankful widout wishin' +for more." + +"It's my opinion, Fardorougha, you don't love the child." + +"Change that opinion, then, Honora; I do love the child; but there's no +needcessity for blowin it about to every one I meet. If I didn't love +him, I wouldn't feel as I do about all the hardships that may be before +him. Think of what a bad sason, or a failure of the craps, might bring +us all to. God grant that we mayn't come to the bag and staff before +he's settled in the world at all, poor thing." + +"Oh, very well, Fardorougha; you may make yourself as unhappy as you +like; for me, I'll put my trust in the Saviour of the world for my +child. If you can trust in any one better than God, do so." + +"Honora, there's no use in this talk--it'll do nothing aither for him or +us--besides, I have no more time to discoorse about it." + +He then left her; but, as she viewed his dark, inflexible features +ere he went, an oppressive sense of something not far removed from +affliction weighed her down. The child had been asleep in her arms +during the foregoing dialogue, and, after his father had departed, she +placed him in the cradle, and, throwing the corner of her blue apron +over her shoulder, she rocked him into a sounder sleep, swaying herself +at the same time to and fro, with that inward sorrow, of which, among +the lower classes of Irish females, this motion is uniformly expressive. +It is not to be supposed, however, that, as the early graces of +childhood gradually expanded (as they did) into more than ordinary +beauty, the avarice of the father was not occasionally encountered in +its progress by! sudden gushes of love for his son. It was impossible +for any parent, no matter how strongly strongly the hideous idol +of mammon might sway his heart, to look upon a creature so fair +and beautiful, without being frequently touched into something like +affection. The fact was, that, as the child advanced towards youth, the +two principles we are describing nearly kept pace one with the other. +That the bad and formidable passion made rapid strides, must be +admitted, but that it engrossed the whole spirit of the father, is +not true. The mind and gentle character of the boy--his affectionate +disposition, and the extraordinary advantages of his person--could not +fail sometimes to surprise his father into sudden bursts of affection. +But these, when they occurred, were looked upon by Fardorougha as so +many proofs that he still entertained for the boy love sufficient to +justify a more intense desire of accumulating wealth for his sake. +Indeed, ere the lad had numbered thirteen summers, Fardorougha's +character as a miser had not only gone far abroad throughout the +neighborhood, but was felt, by the members of his own family, with +almost merciless severity. From habits of honesty, and a decent sense +of independence, he was now degraded to rapacity and meanness; what had +been prudence, by degrees degenerated into cunning; and he who, when +commencing life, was looked upon only as a saving man, had now become +notorious for extortion and usury. + +A character such as this, among a people of generous and lively feeling +like the Irish, is in every state of life the object of intense and +undisguised abhorrence. It was with difficulty he could succeed in +engaging servants, either for domestic or agricultural purposes, and, +perhaps, no consideration, except the general kindness which was felt +for his wife and son, would have induced any person whatsoever to enter +into his employment. Honora and Connor did what in them lay to make the +dependents of the family experience as little of Fardorougha's griping +tyranny as possible. Yet, with all their kind-hearted ingenuity and +secret bounty, they were scarcely able to render their situation barely +tolerable. + +It would be difficult to find any language, no matter what pen might +wield it, capable of portraying the love which Honora Donovan bore to +her gentle, her beautiful, and her only son. Ah! there in that last +epithet, lay the charm which wrapped her soul in him, and in all that +related to his welfare. The moment she saw it was not the will of God +to bless them with other offspring, her heart gathered about him with a +jealous tenderness which trembled into agony at the idea of his loss. + +Her love for him, then, multiplied itself into many hues, for he was in +truth the prism, on which, when it fell, all the varied beauty of its +colors became visible. Her heart gave not forth the music of a single +instrument, but breathed the concord of sweet sounds, as heard from the +blended melody of many. Fearfully different from this were the feelings +of Fardorougha, on finding that he was to be the first and the last +vouchsafed to their union. A single regret, however, scarcely felt, +touched even him, when he reflected that if Connor were to be removed +from them, their hearth must become desolate. But then came the +fictitious conscience, with its nefarious calculations, to prove that, +in their present circumstances, the dispensation which withheld others +was a blessing to him that was given. Even Connor himself, argued the +miser, will be the gainer by it, for what would my five loaves and three +fishes be among so many? The pleasure, however, that is derived from the +violation of natural affection is never either full or satisfactory. +The gratification felt by Fardorougha, upon reflecting that no further +addition was to be made to their family, resembled that which a hungry +man feels who dreams he is partaking of a luxurious banquet. Avarice, +it is true, like fancy, was gratified, but the enjoyment, though rich to +that particular passion, left behind it a sense of unconscious remorse, +which gnawed his heart with a slow and heavy pain, that operated like a +smothered fire, wasting what it preys upon, in secrecy and darkness. +In plainer terms, he was not happy, but so absorbed in the ruling +passion--the pursuit of wealth--that he felt afraid to analyze his +anxiety, or to trace to its true source the cause of his own misery. + +In the mean time, his boy grew up the pride and ornament of the parish, +idolized by his mother, and beloved by all who knew him. Limited and +scanty was the education which his father could be prevailed upon to +bestow upon him; but there was nothing that could deprive him of his +natural good sense, nor of the affections which his mother's love had +drawn out and cultivated. One thing was remarkable in him, which we +mention with reluctance, as it places his father's character in a +frightful point of view; it is this, that his love for that father was +such as is rarely witnessed, even in the purest and most affectionate +circles of domestic life. But let not our readers infer, either from +what we have written, or from any thing we may write, that Fardorougha +hated this lovely and delightful boy; on the contrary, earth contained +not an object, except his money, which he loved so well. His affection +for him, however, was only such as could proceed from the dregs of a +defiled and perverted heart. This is not saying much, but it is saying +all. What in him was parental attachment, would in another man, to +such a son, be unfeeling and detestable indifference. His heart sank +on contemplating the pittance he allowed for Connor's education; and no +remonstrance could prevail on him to clothe the boy with common decency. +Pocket-money was out of the question, as were all those considerate +indulgences to youth, that blunt, when timely afforded, the edge of +early anxiety to know those amusements of life, which, if not innocently +gratified before passion gets strong, are apt to produce, at a later +period, that giddy intoxication, which has been the destruction of +thousands. When Connor, however, grew up, and began to think for +himself, he could not help feeling that, from a man so absolutely +devoted to wealth as his father was, to receive even the slenderest +proof of affection, was in this case no common manifestation of the +attachment he bore him. There was still a higher and nobler motive. He +could not close his ears to the character which had gone abroad of his +father, and from that principle of generosity, which induces a man, even +when ignorant of the quarrel, to take the weaker side, he fought his +battles, until, in the end, he began to believe them just. But the most +obvious cause of the son's attachment we have not mentioned, and it is +useless to travel into vain disquisitions, for that truth which may be +found in the instinctive impulses of nature. He was Connor's father, +and though penurious in everything that regarded even his son's common +comfort, he had never uttered a harsh word to him during his life, or +denied him any gratification which could be had without money. Nay, +a kind word, or a kind glance, from Fardorougha, fired the son's +resentment against the world which traduced him; for how could it be +otherwise, when the habitual defence made by him, when arraigned for +his penury, was an anxiety to provide for the future welfare and +independence of his son? + +Many characters in life appear difficult to be understood, but if those +who wish to analyze them only consulted human nature, instead of rushing +into far-fetched theories, and traced with patience the effect which +interest, or habit, or inclination is apt to produce on men of a +peculiar temperament, when placed in certain situations, there would be +much less difficulty in avoiding those preposterous exhibitions which +run into caricature, or outrage the wildest combinations that can be +formed from the common elements of humanity. + +Having said this much, we will beg our readers to suppose that young +Connor is now twenty-two years of age, and request them, besides, to +prepare for the gloom which is about to overshadow our story. + +We have already stated that Fardorougha was not only an extortioner, but +a usurer. Now, as some of our readers may be surprised that a man in +his station of life could practise usury or even extortion to any +considerable extent, we feel it necessary to inform them that there +exists among Irish farmers a class of men who stand, with respect to the +surrounding poor and improvident, in a position precisely analogous to +that which is occupied by a Jew or moneylender among those in the higher +classes who borrow, and are extravagant upon a larger scale. If, for +instance, a struggling small farmer have to do with a needy landlord or +an unfeeling agent, who threatens to seize or eject, if the rent be not +paid to the day, perhaps this small farmer is forced to borrow from one +of those rustic Jews the full amount of the gale; for this he gives him, +at a valuation dictated by the lender's avarice and his own distress, +the oats, or potatoes, or hay, which he is not able to dispose of in +sufficient time to meet the demand that is upon him. This property, the +miser draws home, and stacks or houses it until the markets are high, +when he disposes of it at a price which often secures for him a profit +amounting to one-third, and occasionally one-half, above the sum lent, +upon which, in the meantime, interest is accumulating. For instance, if +the accommodation be twenty pounds, property to that amount at a ruinous +valuation is brought home by the accommodator. This perhaps sells for +thirty, thirty-five, or forty pounds, so that, deducting the labor of +preparing it for market, there is a gain of fifty, seventy-five, or a +hundred per cent. besides, probably, ten per cent, interest, which is +altogether distinct from the former. This class of persons will also +take a joint bond, or joint promissory note, or, in fact, any collateral +security they know to be valid, and if the contract be not fulfilled, +they immediately pounce upon the guarantee. They will, in fact, as a +mark of their anxiety to assist a neighbor in distress, receive a pig +from a widow, or a cow from a struggling small farmer, at thirty or +forty per cent, beneath its value, and claim the merit of being a friend +into the bargain. Such men are bitter enemies to paper money, especially +to notes issued by private bankers, which they never take in payment. +It is amusing, if a person could forget the distress which occasions the +scene, to observe one of these men producing an old stocking, or a long +black leathern purse--or a calf-skin pocket-book with the hair on, and +counting down, as if he gave out his heart's blood drop by drop, the +specific sum, uttering, at the same time, a most lugubrious history of +his own poverty, and assuring the poor wretch he is fleecing, that if he +(the miser) gives way to his good nature, he must ultimately become the +victim of his own benevolence. In no case, however, do they ever put +more in the purse or stocking than is just then wanted, and sometimes +they will be short a guinea or ten shillings, which they borrow from +a neighbor, or remit to the unfortunate dupe in the course of the day. +This they do in order to enhance the obligation, and give a distinct +proof of their poverty. Let not, therefore, the gentlemen of the +Minories, nor our P------s and our M------s nearer home, imagine for +a moment that they engross the spirit of rapacity and extortion to +themselves. To the credit of the class, however, to which they belong, +such persons are not so numerous as formerly, and to the still greater +honor of the peasantry be it said, the devil himself is not hated with +half the detestation which is borne them. In order that the reader may +understand our motive for introducing such a description as that we have +now given, it will be necessary for us to request him to accompany a +stout, well-set young man, named Bartle Flanagan, along a green ditch, +which, planted with osiers, leads to a small meadow belonging to +Fardorougha Donovan. In this meadow, his son Connor is now making hay, +and on seeing Flanagan approach, he rests upon the top of his rake, and +exclaims in a soliloquy:-- + +"God help you and yours, Bartle! If it was in my power, I take God +to witness, I'd make up wid a willin' heart for all the hardship and +misfortune my father brought upon you all." + +He then resumed his labor, in order that the meeting between him and +Bartle might take place with less embarrassment, for he saw at once that +the former was about to speak to him. + +"Isn't the weather too hot, Connor, to work bareheaded? I think you +ought to keep on your hat." + +"Bartle, how are you?--off or on, it's the same thing; hat or no hat, +it's broilin' weather, the Lord be praised! What news, Bartle?" + +"Not much, Connor, but what you know--a family that was strugglin', but +honest, brought to dissolation. We're broken up; my father and mother's +both livin' in a cabin they tuck from Billy Nuthy; Mary and Alick's gone +to sarvice, and myself's just on my way to hire wid the last man I ought +to go to--your father, that is, supposin' we can agree." + +"As heaven's above me, Bartle, there's not a man in the county this day +sorrier for what has happened than myself! But the truth is, that when +my father heard of Tom Grehan, that was your security, havin' gone to +America, he thought every day a month till the note was due. My mother +an' I did all we could, but you know his temper; 'twas no use. God +knows, as I said before, I'm heart sorry for it." + +"Every one knows, Connor, that if your mother an' you had your way an' +will, your father wouldn't be sich a screw as he is." + +"In the meantime, don't forget that he is my father, Bartle, an' above +all things, remimber that I'll allow no man to speak disparagingly of +him in my presence." + +"I believe you'll allow, Connor, that he was a scourge an' a curse to +us, an' that none of us ought to like a bone in his skin." + +"It couldn't be expected you would, Bartle; but you must grant, after +all, that he was only recoverin' his own. Still, when you know what +my feeling is upon the business, I don't think it's generous in you to +bring it up between us." + +"I could bear his harrishin' us out of house an' home," proceeded the +other, "only for one thought that still crasses in an me." + +"What is that, Bartle?--God knows I can't help feelin' for you," he +added, smote with the desolation which his father had brought upon the +family. + +"He lent us forty pounds," proceeded the young man; "and when he found +that Tom Grehan, our security, went to America, he came down upon us the +minute the note was due, canted all we had at half price, and turned +us to starve upon the world; now, I could bear that, but there's one +thing----" + +"That's twice you spoke about that one thing," said Connor, somewhat +sharply, for he felt hurt at the obstinacy of the other, in continuing +a subject so distressing to him; "but," he continued, in a milder tone, +"tell me, Bartle, for goodness' sake, what it is, an' let us put an' end +to the discoorse. I'm sure it must be unpleasant to both of us." + +"It doesn't signify," replied the young man, in a desponding +voice--"she's gone; it's all over wid me there; I'm a beggar--I'm a +beggar!" + +"Bartle," said Connor, taking his hand, "you're too much downhearted; +come to us, but first go to my father; I know you'll find it hard to +deal with him. Never mind that; whatever he offers you, close wid him, +an' take my word for it that my mother and I between us will make you +up dacent wages; an' sorry I am that it's come to this wid you, poor +fellow!" + +Bartle's cheek grew pale as ashes; he wrung Connor's hand with all his +force, and fixed an unshrinking eye on him as he replied-- + +"Thank you Connor, now--but I hope I'll live to thank you better yet, +and if I do, you needn't thank me for any return I may make you or +yours. I will close wid your father, an' take whatsomever he'll order +me; for, Connor," and he wrung his hand again--"Connor O'Donovan, I +haven't a house or home this day, nor a place under God's canopy where +to lay my head, except upon the damp floor of my father's naked cabin. +Think of that, Connor, an' think if I can forget it; still," he added, +"you'll see, Connor--Connor, you'll see how I'll forgive it." + +"It's a credit to yourself to spake as you do," replied Connor; "call +this way, an' let me know what's done, an' I hope, Bartle, you an' I +will have some pleasant days together." + +"Ay, an' pleasant nights, too, I hope," replied the other: "to be sure +I'll call; but if you take my advice, you'd tie a handkerchy about your +head; it's mad hot, an' enough to give one a fever bareheaded." + +Having made this last observation, he loaped across a small drain that +bounded the meadow, and proceeded up the fields to Fardorougha's house. + +Bartle Flanagan was a young man, about five feet six in height, but of +a remarkably compact and athletic form. His complexion was dark, but +his countenance open, and his features well set and regular. Indeed his +whole appearance might be termed bland and prepossessing. If he +ever appeared to disadvantage it was whilst under the influence of +resentment, during which his face became pale as death, nay, almost +livid; and, as his brows were strong and black, the contrast between +them and his complexion changed the whole expression of his countenance +into that of a person whose enmity a prudent man would avoid. He was not +quarrelsome, however, nor subject to any impetuous bursts of passion; +his resentments, if he retained any, were either dead or silent, or, at +all events, so well regulated that his acquaintances looked upon him as +a young fellow of a good-humored and friendly disposition. It is true, a +hint had gone abroad that on one or two occasions he was found +deficient in courage; but, as the circumstances referred to were rather +unimportant, his conduct by many was attributed rather to good sense +and a disinclination to quarrel on frivolous grounds, than to positive +cowardice. Such he was, and such he is, now that he has entered upon the +humble drama of our story. + +On arriving at Fardorougha's house, he found that worthy man at dinner, +upon a cold bone of bacon and potatoes. He had only a few moments before +returned from the residence of the County Treasurer, with whom he went +to lodge, among other sums, that which was so iniquitously wrung from +the ruin of the Flanagans. It would be wrong to say that he felt in +any degree embarrassed on looking into the face of one whom he had so +oppressively injured. The recovery of his usurious debts, no matter +how merciless the process, he considered only as an act of justice to +himself, for his conscience having long ago outgrown the perception +of his own inhumanity, now only felt compunction when death or the +occasional insolvency of a security defeated his rapacity. + +When Bartle entered, Fardorougha and he surveyed each other with perfect +coolness for nearly half a minute, during which time neither uttered a +word. The silence was first broken by Honora, who put forward a chair, +and asked Flanagan to sit down. + +"Sit down, Bartle," said she, "sit down, boy; an' how is all the +family?" + +"'Deed, can't complain," replied Bartle, "as time goes; an' how are you, +Fardorougha? although I needn't ax--you re takin' care of number one, +any how." + +"I'm middlin', Bartle, middlin'; as well as a man can be that has his +heart broke every day in the year strivin' to come by his own, an' can't +do it; but I'm a fool, an' ever was--sarvin' others an' ruinin' myself." + +"Bartle," said Mrs. Donovan, "are you unwell, dear? you look as pale as +death. Let me get you a drink of fresh milk." + +"If he's weak," said Fardorougha, "an' he looks weak, a drink of fresh +wather 'ud be betther for him; ever an' always a drink of wather for a +weak man, or a weak woman aither; it recovers them sooner." + +"Thank you, kindly, Mrs. Donovan, an' I'm obliged to you, Fardorougha, +for the wather; but I'm not a bit weak; it's only the heat o' the day +ails me--for sure enough it's broilin' weather." + +"'Deed it is," replied Honora, "kill in' weather to them that has to be +out undher it." + +"If it's good for nothin' else, it's good for, the hay--makin'," +observed Fardorougha. + +"I'm tould, Misther Donovan," said Bartle, "that' you want a sarvint +man: now, if you do, I want a place, an' you see I'm comin' to you to +look for one." + +"Heaven above, Bartle!" exclaimed Honora, "what do you mean? Is it one +of Dan Flanagan's sons goin' to sarvice?" + +"Not one, but all of them," replied the other, coolly, "an' his +daughters, too, Mrs. Donovan; but it's all the way o! the world. If Mr. +Donovan 'll hire me I'll thank him." + +"Don't be Mistherin' me, Bartle; Misther them that has means an' +substance," returned Donovan. + +"Oh, God forgive you, Fardorougha!" exclaimed his honest and humane +wife. "God forgive you! Bartle, from my heart, from the core o' my +heart, I pity you, my poor boy. An' is it to this, Fardorougha, you've +brought them--Oh, Saviour o' the world!" + +She fixed her eyes upon the victim of her husband's extortion, and in an +instant they were filled with tears. + +"What did I do," said the latter, "but strive to recover my own? How +could I afford to lose forty pounds? An' I was tould for sartin that +your father knew Grehan was goin' to Ameriky when he got him to go +security. Whisht, Honora, you're as foolish a woman as riz this day; +haven't you your sins to cry for?" + +"God knows I have, Fardorougha, an' more than my own to cry for." + +"I dare say you did hear as much," said Bartle, quietly replying to the +observation of Fardorougha respecting his father; "but you know it's a +folly to talk about spilt milk. If you want a sarvint I'll hire; for, +as I said a while ago, I want a place, an' except wid you I don't know +where to get one." + +"If you come to me," observed the other, "you must go to your duty, an' +observe the fast days, but not the holydays." + +"Sarvints isn't obliged to obsarve them," replied Bartle. + +"But I always put it in the bargain," returned the other. + +"As to that," said Bartle, "I don't much mind it. Sure it'll be for the +good o' my sowl, any way. But what wages will you be givin'?" + +"Thirty shillings every half year;--that's three pounds--sixty shillings +a year. A great deal o' money. I'm sure I dunna where it's to come +from." + +"It's very little for a year's hard labor," replied Bartle, "but little +as it is, Fardorougha, owin' to what has happened betwixt us, believe +me, I'm right glad to take it." + +"Well, but Bartle, you know there's fifteen shillins of the ould account +still due, and you must allow it out o' your wages; if you don't, it's +no bargain." + +Bartle's face became livid; but he was perfectly cool;--indeed, so much +so that he smiled at this last condition of Fardorougha. It was a smile, +however, at once so ghastly, dark, and frightful, that, by any person +capable of tracing the secret workings of some deadly passion on the +countenance, its purport could not have been mistaken. + +"God knows, Fardorougha, you might let that pass--considher that you've +been hard enough upon us." + +"God knows I say the same," observed Honora. "Is it the last drop o' the +heart's blood you want to squeeze out, Fardorougha?" + +"The last drop! What is it but my right? Am I robbin' him? Isn't it due? +Will he, or can he deny that? An' if it's due isn't it but honest in him +to pay it? They're not livin' can say I ever defrauded them of a penny. +I never broke a bargain; an' yet you open on me, Honora, as if I was +a rogue! If I hadn't that boy below to provide for, an' settle in the +world, what 'ud I care about money? It's for his sake I look afther my +right." + +"I'll allow the money," said Bartle. "Fardorougha's right; it's due, an' +I'll pay him--ay will I, Fardorougha, settle wid you to the last farden, +or beyant it if you like." + +"I wouldn't take a farden beyant it, in the shape of debt. Them that's +decent enough to make a present, may--for that's a horse of another +color." + +"When will I come home?" inquired Bartle. + +"You may stay at home now that you're here," said the other. "An' in the +mane time, go an' help Connor put that hay in lap-cocks. Anything you +want to bring here you can bring afther your day's work tonight." + +"Did you ate your dinner, Bartle?" said Honora; "bekase if you didn't +I'll get you something." + +"It's not to this time o' day he'd be without his dinner, I suppose," +observed his new master. + +"You're very right, Fardorougha," rejoined Bartle; "I'm thankful to you, +ma'am, I did ate my dinner." + +"Well, you'll get a rake in the barn, Bartle," said his master; "an' now +tramp down to Connor, an' I'll see how you'll handle yourselves, both o' +you, from this till night." + +Bartle accordingly--proceeded towards the meadow, and Fardorougha, as +was his custom, throwing his great coat loosely about his shoulders, +the arms dangling on each side of him, proceeded to another part of his +farm. + +Flanagan's step, on his way to join Connor, was slow and meditative. The +kindness of the son and mother touched him; for the line between their +disposition and Fardorougha's was too strong and clear to allow the +slightest suspicion of their participation in the spirit which regulated +his life. The father, however, had just declared that his anxiety to +accumulate money arose from a wish to settle his son independently in +life; and Flanagan was too slightly acquainted with human character to +see through this flimsy apology for extortion. He took it for granted +that Fardorougha spoke truth, and his resolution received a bias from +the impression, which, however, his better nature determined to subdue. +In this uncertain state of mind he turned about almost instinctively, +to look in the direction which Fardorougha had taken, and as he observed +his diminutive figure creeping along with his great coat about him, he +felt that the very sight of the man who had broken up their hearth and +scattered them on the world, filled his heart with a deep and deadly +animosity that occasioned him to pause as a person would do who finds +himself unexpectedly upon the brink of a precipice. + +Connor, on seeing him enter the meadow with the rake, knew at once that +the terms had been concluded between them; and the excellent young man's +heart was deeply moved at the destitution which forced Flanagan to seek +for service with the very individual who had occasioned it. + +"I see, Bartle," said he, "you have agreed." + +"We have," replied Bartle. "But if there had been any other place to be +got in the parish--(an' indeed only for the state I'm in)--I wouldn't +have hired myself to him for nothing, or next to nothing, as I have +done." + +"Why, what did he promise?" + +"Three pounds a year, an' out o' that I'm to pay him fifteen shillings +that my father owes him still." + +"Close enough, Bartle, but don't be cast down; I'll undertake that my +mother an' I will double it--an' as for the fifteen shillings I'll pay +them out o' my own pocket--when I get money. I needn't tell you that +we're all kept upon the tight crib, and that little cash goes far with +us; for all that, we'll do what I promise, go as it may." + +"It's more than I ought to expect, Connor; but yourself and your mother, +all the counthry would put their hands undher both your feets." + +"I would give a great dale, Bartle, that my poor father had a little of +the feelin' that's in my mother's heart; but it's his way, Bartle, an' +you know he's my father, an' has been kinder to me than to any livin' +creature on this earth. I never got a harsh word from him yet. An' if he +kept me stinted in many things that I was entitled to as well as other +persons like me, still, Bartle, he loves me, an' I can't but feel great +affection for him, love the money as he may." + +This was spoken with much seriousness of manner not unmingled with +somewhat of regret, if not sorrow. Bartle fixed his eye upon the fine +face of his companion, with a look in which there was a character of +compassion. His countenance, however, while he gazed on him, maintained +his natural color--it was not pale. + +"I am sorry, Connor," said he slowly, "I am sorry that I hired with your +father." + +"An' I'm glad of it," replied the other; "why should you be sorry?" + +Bartle made no answer for some time, but looked into the ground, as if +he had not heard him. + +"Why should you be sorry, Bartle?" + +Nearly a minute elapsed before his abstraction was broken. "What's +that?" said he at length. "What were you asking me?" + +"You said you were sorry." + +"Oh, ay!" returned the other, interrupting him; "but I didn' mind what I +was sayin': 'twas thinkin' o' somethin' else I was--of home, Bartle, an' +what we're brought to; but the best way's to dhrop all discoorse about +that forever." + +"You'll be my friend if you do," said Connor. + +"I will, then," replied Bartle; "we'll change it. Connor, were you ever +in love?" + +O'Donovan turned quickly about, and, with a keen glance at Bartle, +replied, + +"Why, I don't know; I believe I might, once or so." + +"I _am_," said Flanagan, bitterly; "I _am_ Connor." + +"An' who's the happy crature, will you tell us?" + +"No," returned the other; "but if there's a wish that I'd make against +my worst enemy, 'twould be, that he might love a girl above his means; +or if he was her aquil, or even near her aquil, that he might be +brought"----he paused, but immediately proceeded, "Well, no matter, I +am, indeed, Connor." + +"An' is the girl fond o' you?" + +"I don't know; my mind was made up to tell her but it's past that now; I +know she's wealthy and proud both, and so is all her family." + +"How do you know she's proud when you never put the subject to her?" + +"I'm not sayin' she's proud, in one sinse; wid respect to herself, I +believe; she's humble enough; I mane, she doesn't give herself many +airs, but her people's as proud as the very sarra, an' never match below +them; still, if I'd opportunities of bain' often in her company, I'd not +fear to trust to a sweet tongue for comin' round her." + +"Never despair, Bartle," said Connor; "you know the ould proverb,'a +faintheart;' however, settin' the purty crature aside, whoever she is, +I think if we divided ourselves--you to that side, an' me to this--we'd +get this hay lapped in half the time; or do you take which side you +plase." + +"It's a bargain," said Bartle; "I don't care a trawneen; I'll stay where +I am, thin, an' do you go beyant; let us hurry, too, for, if I'm not +mistaken, it's too sultry to be long without rain, the sky, too, is +gettin' dark." + +"I observed as much myself," said Connor; "an' that was what made me +spake." + +Both then continued their labor with redoubled energy, nor ceased for +a moment until the task was executed, and the business of the day +concluded. + +Flanagan's observation was indeed correct, as to the change in the +day and the appearance of the sky. From the hour of five o'clock the +darkness gradually deepened, until a dead black shadow, fearfully +still and solemn, wrapped the whole horizon. The sun had altogether +disappeared, and nothing was visible in the sky but one unbroken mass of +darkness, unrelieved even by a single pile of clouds. The animals, where +they could, had betaken themselves to shelter; the fowls of the air +sought the covert of the hedges, and ceased their songs; the larks fled +from the mid-heaven; and occasionally might be seen a straggling bee +hurrying homewards, careless of the flowers which tempted him in his +path, and only anxious to reach his hive before the deluge should +overtake him. The stillness indeed was awful, as was the gloomy veil +which darkened the face of nature, and filled the mind with that ominous +terror which presses upon the heart like a consciousness of guilt. In +such a time, and under the aspect of a sky so much resembling the pall +of death, there is neither mirth nor laughter, but that individuality +of apprehension, which, whilst it throws the conscience in upon its own +records, and suspends conversation, yet draws man to his fellows, as if +mere contiguity were a safeguard against danger. + +The conversation between the two young men as they returned from their +labor, was short but expressive. + +"Bartle," said Connor, "are you afeard of thundher? The rason I ask," he +added, "is, bekase your face is as white as a sheet." + +"I have it from my mother," replied Flanagan, "but at all evints such an +evenin' as this is enough to make the heart of any man quake." + +I'll feel my spirits low, by rason of the darkness, but I'm not afraid. +It's well for them that have a clear conscience; they say that a stormy +sky is the face of an angry God--" + +"An' the thundher His voice," added Bartle; "but why are the brute +bastes an' the birds afraid, that commit no sin?" + +"That's true," said his companion; "it must be natural to be afraid, +or why would they indeed?--but some people are naturally more timersome +than others." + +"I intinded to go home for my other clo'es an' linen this evenin'," +observed Bartle, "but I won't go out to-night." + +"I must thin," said Connor; "an, with the blessin' o' God, will too; +come what may." + +"Why, what is there to bring you out, if it's a fair question to ax?" +inquired the other. + +"A promise, for one thing; an' my own inclination--my own heart--that's +nearer the thruth--for another. It's the first meetin' that I an' her +I'm goin' to ever had." + +"_Thigham, Thighum_, I undherstand," said Flanagan; "well, I'll stay at +home; but, sure it's no harm to wish you success--an' that, Connor, is +more than I'll ever have where I wish for it most." + +This closed their dialogue, and both entered Fardorougha's house in +silence. + +Up until twilight, the darkness of the dull and heavy sky was unbroken; +but towards the west there was seen a streak whose color could not be +determined as that of blood or fire. By its angry look, it seemed as if +the sky in that quarter were about to burst forth in one awful sweep of +conflagration. Connor observed it, and very correctly anticipated the +nature and consequences of its appearance; but what will not youthful +love dare and overcome? With an undismayed heart he set forward on his +journey, which we leave him to pursue, and beg permission, meanwhile, to +transport the reader to a scene distant about two miles farther towards +the--inland part of the country. + + + + +PART II. + + +The dwelling of Bodagh Buie O'Brien, to which Connor is now directing +his steps, was a favorable specimen of that better class of farm-houses +inhabited by our most extensive and wealthy agriculturists. It was a +large, whitewashed, ornamentally thatched building, that told by its +external aspect of the good living, extensive comforts, and substantial +opulence which prevailed within. Stretched before its hall-door was a +small lawn, bounded on the left by a wall that separated it from the +farm-yard into which the kitchen door opened. Here were stacks of hay, +oats, and wheat, all upon an immense scale, both as to size and number; +together with threshing and winnowing machines, improved ploughs, carts, +cars, and all the other modern implements of an extensive farm. Very +cheering, indeed, was the din of industry that arose from the clank of +machinery, the grunting of hogs, the cackling of geese, the quacking +of ducks, and all the various other sounds which proceeded from what at +first sight might have appeared to be rather a scene of confusion, but +which, on closer inspection, would be found a rough yet well--regulated +system, in which every person had an allotted duty to perform. Here +might Bodagh Buie be seen, dressed in a gray broad-cloth coat, broad +kerseymere breeches, and lambs' wool stockings, moving from place to +place with that calm, sedate, and contented air, which betokens an easy +mind and a consciousness of possessing a more than ordinary share +of property and influence. With hands thrust into his small-clothes +pockets, and a bunch of gold seals suspended from his fob, he issued his +orders in a grave and quiet tone, differing very little in dress from an +absolute _Squireen_, save in the fact of his Caroline hat being rather +scuffed, and his strong shoes begrimed with the soil of his fields or +farm-yard. Mrs. O'Brien was, out of the sphere of her own family, a +person of much greater pretension than the Bodagh her husband; and, +though in a different manner, not less so in the discharge of her duty +as a wife, a mother, or a mistress. In appearance, she was a large, fat, +good-looking woman, eternally in a state of motion and bustle, and, as +her education had been extremely scanty, her tone and manner, though +brimful of authority and consequence, were strongly marked with that +ludicrous vulgarity which is produced by the attempt of an ignorant +person to accomplish a high style of gentility. She was a kind-hearted, +charitable woman, however; but so inveterately conscious of her station +in life, that it became, in her opinion, a matter of duty to exhibit +a refinement and elevation of language suitable to a matron who could +drive every Sunday to Mass on her own jaunting car. When dressed on +these Occasions in her rich rustling silks, she had, what is called in +Ireland, a comfortable _flaghoola_ look, but at the same time a carriage +so stiff and rustic, as utterly overcame all her attempts, dictated +as they were by the simplest vanity, at enacting the arduous and awful +character of a Squireen's wife. Their family consisted of a son and +daughter; the former, a young man of a very amiable disposition, was, at +the present period of our story, a student in Maynooth College, and +the latter, now in her nineteenth year, a promising pupil in a certain +seminary for young ladies, conducted by that notorious Master of Arts, +Little Cupid. Oona, or Una, O'Brien, was in truth a most fascinating and +beautiful brunette; tall in stature, light and agile in all her motions, +cheerful and sweet in temper, but with just as much of that winning +caprice, as was necessary to give zest and piquancy to her whole +character. Though tall and slender, her person was by no means thin; +on the contrary, her limbs and figure were very gracefully rounded, +and gave promise of that agreeable fulness, beneath or beyond which no +perfect model of female proportion can exist. If our readers could get +one glance at the hue of her rich cheek, or fall for a moment under the +power of her black mellow eye, or witness the beauty of her white teeth, +while her face beamed with a profusion of dimples, or saw her while in +the act of shaking out her invincible locks, ere she bound them up with +her white and delicate hands--then, indeed, might they understand why no +war of the elements could prevent Connor O'Donovan from risking life and +limb sooner than disappoint her in the promise of their first meeting. + +Oh that first meeting of pure and youthful love! With what a glory is it +ever encircled in the memory of the human heart! No matter how long or +how melancholy the lapse of time since its past existence may be, still, +still, is it remembered by our feelings when the recollection of every +tie but itself has departed. The charm, however, that murmured its +many-toned music through the soul of Una O'Brien was not, upon the +evening in question, wholly free from a shade of melancholy for which +she could not account; and this impression did not result from any +previous examination of her love for Connor O'Donovan, though many +such she had. She knew that in this the utmost opposition from both her +parents must be expected; nor was it the consequence of a consciousness +on her part, that in promising him a clandestine meeting, she had taken +a step which could not be justified. Of this, too, she had been aware +before; but, until the hour of appointment drew near, the heaviness +which pressed her down was such as caused her to admit that the +sensation, however painful and gloomy, was new to her, and bore a +character distinct from anything that could proceed from the various +lights in which she had previously considered her attachment. This was, +moreover, heightened by the boding aspect of the heavens and the dread +repose of the evening, so unlike anything she had ever witnessed before. +Notwithstanding all this, she was sustained by the eager and impatient +buoyancy of first affection; which, when imagination pictured the +handsome form of her young and manly lover, predominated for the time +over every reflection and feeling that was opposed to itself. Her mind, +indeed, resembled a fair autumn landscape, over which the cloud-shadows +may be seen sweeping for a moment, whilst again the sun comes out and +turns all into serenity and light. + +The place appointed for their interview was a small paddock shaded by +alders, behind her father's garden, and thither, with trembling limbs +and palpitating heart, did the young and graceful daughter of Bodagh +Buie proceed. + +For a considerable time, that is to say, for three long years before +this delicious appointment, had Connor O'Donovan and Una been wrapped +in the elysium of mutual love. At mass, at fair, and at market, had they +often and often met, and as frequently did their eyes search each other +out, and reveal in long blushing glances the state of their respective +hearts. Many a time did he seek an opportunity to disclose what he felt, +and as often, with confusion, and fear, and delight, did she afford him +what he sought. Thus did one opportunity after another pass away, and as +often did he form the towering resolution to reveal his affection if +he were ever favored with another. Still would some disheartening +reflection, arising from the uncommon gentleness and extreme modesty +of his character, throw a damp upon his spirit. He questioned his own +penetration; perhaps she was in the habit of glancing as much at others +as she glanced at him. Could it be possible that the beautiful daughter +of Bodagh Buie, the wealthiest man, and of his wife, the proudest woman, +within a large circle of the country, would love the son of Fardorougha +Donovan, whose name had, alas, become so odious and unpopular? But then +the blushing face, and dark lucid eyes, and the long earnest glance, +rose before his imagination, and told him that, let the difference in +the character and the station of their parents be what it might, the +fair dark daughter of O'Brien was not insensible to him, nor to the +anxieties he felt. + +The circumstance which produced the first conversation they ever had +arose from an incident of a very striking and singular character. About +a week before the evening in question, one of Bodagh Buie's bee-skeps +hived, and the young colony, though closely watched and pursued, +directed their course to Fardorougha's house, and settled in the mouth +of the chimney. Connor, having got a clean sheet, secured them, and was +about to submit them to the care of the Bodagh's servants, when it +was suggested that the duty of bringing them home devolved on himself, +inasmuch as he was told they would not remain, unless placed in a new +skep by the hands of the person on whose property they had settled. +While on his way to the Bodagh's he was accosted in the following words +by one of O'Brien's servants: + +"Connor, there's good luck before you, or the bees wouldn't pick you out +amongst all the rest o' the neighbors. You ought to hould up your head, +man. Who knows what mainin's in it?" + +"Why, do you b'lieve that bees sittin' wid one is a sign o' good luck?" + +"Surely I do. Doesn't every one know it to be thrue? Connor, you're a +good-lookin' fellow, an' I need scarcely tell you that we have a purty +girl at home; can you lay that an' that together? Arrah, be my sowl, +the richest honey ever the same bees'll make, is nothin' but alloways, +compared wid that purty mouth of her own! A honey-comb is a fool to it." + +"Why, did you ever thry, Mike?" + +"Is it me? Och, och, if I was only high enough in this world, maybe I +wouldn't be spakin' sweet to her; no, no, be my word! thry, indeed, for +the likes o' me! Faith, but I know a sartin young man that she does be +often spakin' about." + +Connor's heart was in a state of instant commotion. + +"An' who--who is he--who is that sartin young man, Mike?" + +"Faith, the son o' one that can run a shillin' farther than e'er another +man in the country. Do you happen to be acquainted wid one Connor +O'Donovan, of Lisnamona?" + +"Connor O'Donovan--that's good, Mike--in the mane time don't be goin' it +on us. No, no;--an' even if she did, it isn't to you she spake about any +one, Michael ahagur!" + +"No, nor it wasn't to me--sure I didn't say it was--but don't you know +my sister's at sarvice in the Bodagh's family? Divil the word o' falsity +I'm tellin' you; so, if you haven't the heart to spake for yourself, I +wouldn't give knots o' straws for you; and now, there's no harm done I +hope--moreover, an' by the same token, you needn't go to the trouble o' +puttin' up an advertisement to let the parish know what I've tould you." + +"Hut, tut, Mike, it's all folly. Una Dhun O'Brien to think of +me!--nonsense, man; that cock would never fight." + +"Very well; divil a morsel of us is forcin' you to b'lieve it. I suppose +the mother o' you has your _wooden spoon_ to the fore still. I'd kiss +the Bravery you didn't come into the world wid a silver ladle in your +mouth, anyhow. In the mane time, we're at the Bodagh's--an' have an eye +about you afther what you've heard--_Nabocklish!_" + +This, indeed, was important intelligence to Connor, and it is probable +that, had he not heard it, another opportunity of disclosing his passion +might have been lost. + +Independently of this, however, he was not proof against the popular +superstition of the bees, particularly as it appeared to be an augury +to which his enamored heart could cling with all the hope of young and +passionate enthusiasm. + +Nor was it long till he had an opportunity of perceiving that she whose +image had floated in light before his fancy, gave decided manifestations +of being struck by the same significant occurrence. On entering the +garden, the first person his eye rested upon was Una herself, who, +as some of the other hives were expected to swarm, had been engaged +watching them during the day. His appearance at any time would have +created a tumult in her bosom, but, in addition to this, when she heard +that the bees which had rested on Connor's house, had swarmed from _her +own hive_, to use the words of Burns-- + + She looked--she reddened like the rose, + Syne pale as ony lily, + +and, with a shy but expressive glance at Connor, said, in a low hurried +voice, "These belong to me." + +Until the moment we are describing, Connor and she, notwithstanding that +they frequently met in public places, had never yet spoken; nor could +the words now uttered by Una be considered as addressed to him, although +from the glance that accompanied them it was sufficiently evident that +they were intended for him alone. It was in vain that he attempted to +accost her; his confusion, her pleasure, his timidity, seemed to unite +in rendering him incapable of speaking at all. His lips moved several +times, but the words, as they arose, died away unspoken. + +At this moment, Mike, with waggish good-humor, and in a most laudable +fit of industry, reminded the other servants, who had been assisting +to secure the bees, that as they (the bees) were now safe, no further +necessity existed for their presence. + +"Come, boys--death-alive, the day's passin'--only think. Miss Una, that +we have all the hay in the Long-shot meadow to get into cocks yet, an' +here we're idlin' an' ghosther--in' away our time like I dunna what. +They're schamin', Miss Una--divil a thing else, an' what'll the masther +say if the same meadow's not finished to--night?" + +"Indeed, Mike," replied Una--; "if the meadow is to be finished this +night, there's little time to be lost." + +"Come, boys," exclaimed Mike, "you hear what Miss Una says--if it's +to be finished to-night there's but little time to be lost--turn +out--march. Miss Una can watch the bees widout our help. Good evenin', +Misther Donovan; be my word, but you're entitled to a taste o' honey any +way, for bringing back Miss Una's bees to her." + +Mike, after having uttered this significant opinion relative to his +sense of justice, drove his fellow-servants out of the garden, and left +the lovers together. There was now a dead silence, during the greater +part of which, neither dared to look at the other; at length each +hazarded a glance; their eyes met, and their embarrassment deepened in +a tenfold degree. Una, on withdrawing her gaze, looked with an air of +perplexity from one object to another, and at length, with downcast +lids, and glowing cheeks, her eyes became fixed on her own white and +delicate finger. + +"Who would think," said she, in a voice tremulous with agitation, "that +the sting of a bee could be so painful." + +Connor advanced towards her with a beating heart. "Where have you been +stung, Miss O'Brien?" said he, in a tone shaken out of it's fulness by +what he felt. + +"In the finger," she replied, and she looked closely into the spot as +she uttered the words. + +"Will you let me see it?" asked Connor. + +She held her hand towards him without knowing what she did, nor was it +till after a strong effort that Connor mastered himself so far as to ask +her in which finger she felt the pain. In fact, both saw at once that +their minds were engaged upon far different thoughts, and that their +anxiety to pour out the full confession of their love was equally deep +and mutual. + +As Connor put the foregoing question to her, he took her hand in his. + +"In what finger?" she replied, "I don't--indeed--I--I believe in +the--the--but what--what is this?--I am very--very weak." + +"Let me support you to the summer--house, where you can sit," returned +Connor, still clasping her soft delicate hand in his; then, circling her +slender waist with the other, he helped her to a seat under the thick +shade of the osiers. + +Una's countenance immediately became pale as death, and her whole frame +trembled excessively. + +"You are too weak even to sit without support," said Connor, "your +head is droopin'. For God's sake, lean it over on me! Oh! I'd give ten +thousand lives to have it on my breast only for one moment!" + +Her paleness still continued; she gazed on him, and, as he gently +squeezed her hand, a slight pressure was given in return. He then drew +her head over upon his shoulder, where it rather fell than leaned; a +gush of tears came from her eyes, and the next moment, with sobbing +hearts, they were encircled in each other's arms. + +From this first intoxicating draught of youthful love, they were +startled by the voice of Mrs. O'Brien calling upon her daughter, and, +at the same time, to their utter dismay, they observed the portly dame +sailing, in her usual state, down towards the arbor, with an immense +bunch of keys dangling from her side. + +"Oonagh, Miss--Miss Oonagh--where are you, Miss, Ma Colleen?--Here's +a litther," she proceeded, when Una appeared, "from Mrs. Fogarty, your +school-misthress, to your fadher--statin' that she wants you to +finish your Jiggraphy at the dancin', wid a new dancin'--teacher from +_Dubling_. Why--Eah! what ails you, Miss, Ma Colleen? What the dickens +wor you cryin' for?" + +"These nasty bees that stung me," returned the girl. "Oh, for goodness +sake, mother dear, don't come any farther, except you wish to have a +whole hive upon you!" + +"Why, sure, they wouldn't sting any one that won't meddle wid them," +replied the mother in a kind of alarm. + +"The sorra pin they care, mother--don't come near them; I'll be in, by +an' by. Where's my father?" + +"He's in the house, an' wants you to answer Mrs. Fogarty, statin' feder +you'll take a month's larnin' on the _flure_ or not." + +"Well, I'll see her letter in a minute or two, but you may tell my +father he needn't wait--I won't answer it to-night at all event's." + +"You must answer it on the nail," replied her mother, "becase the +messager's waitin' in the kitchen 'ithin." + +"That alters the case altogether," returned Una, "and I'll follow you +immediately." + +The good woman then withdrew, having once more enjoined the daughter to +avoid delay, and not to detain the messenger. + +"You must go instantly," she said to Connor. "Oh, what would happen me +if they knew that I lov--that I--" a short pause ensued, and she blushed +deeply. + +"Say, what you were goin' to say," returned Connor; "Oh, say that one +word, and all the misfortunes that ever happened to man, can't make me +unhappy! Oh, God! an' is it possible? Say that word--Oh! say it--say +it!" + +"Well, then," she continued, "if they knew that I love the son of +Fardorougha Donovan, what would become of me? Now go, for fear my father +may come out." + +"But when will I see you again?" + +"Go," said she anxiously; "go, you can easily see me." + +"But when?--when? say on Thursday." + +"Not so soon--not so soon," and she cast an anxious eye towards the +garden gate. + +"When then--say this day week." + +"Very well--but go--maybe my father has heard from the servants that you +are here." + +"Dusk is the best time." + +"Yes--yes--about dusk; under the alders, in the little green field +behind the garden." + +"Show me the wounded finger," said he with a smile, "before I go." + +"There," said she, extending her hand; "but for Heaven's sake go." + +"I'll tell you how to cure it," said he, tenderly; "honey is the +medicine; put that sweet finger to your own sweeter lip--and, +afterwards, I'll carry home the wound." + +"But not the medicine, _now_," said she, and, snatching her hand from +his, with light, fearful steps, she fled up the garden and disappeared. + +Such, gentle reader, were the circumstances which brought our young and +artless lovers together in the black twilight of the singularly awful +and ominous evening which we have already described. + +Connor, on reaching the appointed spot, sat down; but his impatience +soon overcame him; and, while hurrying to and fro, under the alders, +he asked himself in what was this wild but rapturous attachment to +terminate? That the proud Bodagh, and his prouder wife, would never +suffer their beautiful daughter, the heiress of all their wealth, to +marry the son of Fardorougha, the miser, was an axiom, the truth of +which pressed upon his heart with a deadly weight. On the other hand, +would his father, or rather could he, change his nature so far as to +establish him in life, provided Una and he were united without the +consent of her parents? Alas! he knew his father's parsimony too well; +and, on either hand, he was met by difficulties that appeared to him +to be insurmountable. But again came the delightful and ecstatic +consciousness, that, let their parents act as they might, Una's heart +and his were bound to each other by ties which, only to think of, was +rapture. In the midst of these reflections, he heard her light foot +approach, but with a step more slow and melancholy than he could have +expected from the ardor of their love. + +When she approached, the twilight was just sufficient to enable him to +perceive that her face was pale, and tinged apparently with melancholy, +if not with sorrow. After the first salutations were over, he was +proceeding to inquire into the cause of her depression, when, to his +utter surprise, she placed her hands upon her face, and burst into a fit +of grief. + +Those who have loved need not be told that the most delightful office +of that delightful passion is to dry the tears of the beloved one who +is dear to us beyond all else that life contains. Connor literally +performed this office, and inquired, in a tone so soothing and full +of sympathy, why she wept, that her tears for a while only flowed the +faster. At length her grief abated, and she was able to reply to him. + +"You ask me why I am raying," said the fair young creature; "but, +indeed, I cannot tell you. There has been a sinking of the heart upon me +during the greater part of this day. When I thought of our meeting I +was delighted; but again some heaviness would come over me that I can't +account for." + +"I know what it is," replied Connor, "a very simple thing; merely the +terrible calm an' blackness of the evenin'. I was sunk myself a little." + +"I ought to cry for a better reason," she returned. "In meeting you I +have done--an' am doing--what I ought to be sorry for--that is, a wrong +action that my conscience condemns." + +"There is nobody perfect, my dear Una," said Connor; "an' none without +their failins; they have little to answer for that have no more than +you." + +"Don't flatter me," she replied; "if you love me as you say, never +flatter me while you live; I will always speak what I feel, and I hope +you'll do the same." + +"If I could spake what I feel," said he, "you would still say I +flattered you--it's not in the power of any words that ever were spoken, +to tell how I love you--how much my heart an' soul's fixed upon you. +Little you know, my own dear Una, how unhappy I am this minute, to see +you in low spirits. What do you think is the occasion of it? Spake now, +as you say you will do, that is, as you feel." + +"Except it be that my heart brought me to meet you tonight contrary to +my conscience, I do not know. Connor, Connor, that heart is so strongly +in your favor, that if you were not to be happy neither could its poor +owner." + +Connor for a moment looked into the future, but, like the face of the +sky above him, all was either dark or stormy; his heart sank, but the +tenderness expressed in Una's last words filled his whole soul with a +vehement and burning passion, which he felt must regulate his destiny in +life, whether for good or evil. He pulled her to his breast, on which +he placed her head; she looked up fondly to him, and, perceiving that he +wrought under some deep and powerful struggle, said in a low, confiding +voice, whilst the tears once more ran quietly down her cheeks, "Connor, +what I said is true." + +"My heart's burnin'--my heart's burnin'!" he exclaimed. "It's not love I +feel for you, Una--it's more than love; oh, what is it--Una, Una, this I +know, that I cannot live long without you, or from you; if I did, I'd go +wild or mad through the world. For the last three years you have never +been out of my mind, I may say awake or asleep; for I believe a night +never passed during that time that I didn't drame of you--of the +beautiful young crature. Oh! God in heaven, can it be thrue that she +loves me at last? Say them blessed words again, Una; oh, say them again! +But I'm too happy--I can hardly bear this delight." + +"It is true that I love you, and if our parents could think as we do, +Connor, how easy it would be for them to make us happy, but--" + +"It's too soon, Una; it's too soon to spake of that. Happy! don't we +love one another? Isn't that happiness? Who or what can deprive us of +that? We are happy without them; we can be happy in spite of them; oh, +my own fair girl! sweet, sweet life of my life, and heart of my heart! +Heaven--heaven itself would be no heaven to me, if you weren't with me!" + +"Don't say that, Connor dear; it's wrong. Let us not forget what is +due to religion, if we expect our love to prosper. You may think this +strange from one that has acted contrary to religion in coming to meet +you against the will and knowledge of her parents; but beyond that, dear +Connor, I hope I never will go. But is it true that you've loved me so +long?" + +"It is," said he; "the second Sunday in May next was three years, I +knelt opposite you at mass. You were on the left hand side of the altar, +I was on the right; my eyes were never off you; indeed, you may remember +it." + +"I have a good right," said she, blushing and hiding her face on his +shoulder. "I ought to be ashamed to acknowledge it, an' me so young at +the time; little more than sixteen. From that day to this, my story has +been just your own. Connor, can you tell me how I found it out but I +knew you loved me?" + +"Many a thing was to tell you that, Una dear. Sure my eyes were never +off you, whenever you wor near me; an' wherever you were, there was +I certain to be too. I never missed any public place if I thought you +would be at it, an' that merely for the sake of seein' you. An', now +will you tell me why it was that I could 'a sworn you lov'd me?" + +"You have answered for us both," she replied. "As for me, if I only +chance to hear your name mentioned my heart would beat; if the talk was +about you I could listen to nothing else, and I often felt the color +come and go on my cheek." + +"Una, I never thought I could be born to such happiness. Now that I know +that you love me, I can hardly think that it was love I felt for you all +along; it's wonderful--it's wonderful!" + +"What is so wonderful?" she inquired. + +"Why, the change that I feel since knowin' that you love me; since I had +it from your own lips, it has overcome me--I'm a child--I'm anything, +anything you choose to make me; it was never love--it's only since I +found you loved me that my heart's burnin' as it is." + +"I'll make you happyr if I can," she replied, "and keep you so, I hope." + +"There's one thing that will make me still happier than I am," said +Connor. + +"What is it? If it's proper and right I'll do it." + +"Promise me that if I live you'll never marry any one else than me." + +"You wish then to have the promise all on one side," she replied with a +smile and a blush, each as sweet as ever captivated a human heart. + +"No, no, no, my darling Una, _acushla gra gal machree_, no! I will +promise the same to you." + +She paused, and a silence of nearly a minute ensued. + +"I don't know that it's right, Connor; I have taken one wrong step as it +is, but, well as I love you, I won't take another; whatever I do I must +feel that it's proper. I'm not sure that this is." + +"Don't you say you love me, Una?" + +"I do; you know I do." + +"I have only another question to ask; could you, or would you, love me +as you do, and marry another?" + +"I could not, Connor, and would not, and will not. I am ready to +promise; I may easily do it; for God knows the very thought of marrying +another, or being deprived of you, is more than I can bear." + +"Well, then," returned her lover, seizing her hand, "I take God to +witness that, whilst you are alive an' faithful to me, I will never +marry any woman but yourself. Now," he continued, "put your right hand +into mine, and say the same words." + +She did so, and was in the act of repeating the form, "I take God to +witness----" when a vivid flash of lightning shot from the darkness +above them, and a peal of thunder almost immediately followed, with an +explosion so loud as nearly to stun both. Una started with terror, and +instinctively withdrew her hand from Connor's. + +"God preserve us!" she exclaimed; "that's awful. Connor, I feel as if the +act I am goin' to do is not right. Let us put it off at all events, till +another time." + +"Is it because there comes an accidental brattle of thunder?" he +returned. "Why, the thunder would come if we were never to change a +promise. You have mine, now, Una dear, an' I'm sure you wouldn't wish +me to be bound an' yourself free. Don't be afraid, darling; give me your +hand, an' don't tremble so; repeat the words at wanst, an' let it be +over." + +He again took her hand, when she repeated the form in a distinct, though +feeble voice, observing, when it was concluded, + +"Now, Connor, I did this to satisfy you, but I still feel like one who +has done a wrong action. I am yours now, but I cannot help praying to +God that it may end happily for us both." + +"It must, darling Una--it must end happily for us both. How can it be +otherwise? For my part, except to see you my wife, I couldn't be happier +than I am this minute; exceptin' that, my heart has all it wished for. +Is it possible--Oh! is it possible that this is not a dream, my heart's +life? But if it is--if it is--I never more will wish to waken." + +Her young lover was deeply affected as he uttered these words, nor was +Una proof against the emotion they produced. + +"I could pray to God, this moment, with a purer heart than I ever had +before," he proceeded, "for makin' my lot in life so happy. I feel that +I am better and freer from sin than I ever was yet. If we're faithful +and true to one another, what can the world do to us?" + +"I couldn't be otherwise than faithful to you," she replied, "without +being unhappy myself; an' I trust it's no sin to love each other as +we do. Now let us----God bless me, what a flash! and here's the rain +beginning. That thunder's dreadful; Heaven preserve us! It's an awful +night! Connor, you must see me as far as the corner of the garden; as +for you, I wish you were safe at home." + +"Hasten, dear," said he, "hasten; it's no night for you to be out in, +now that the rain's coming. As for me, if it was ten times as dreadful I +won't feel it. There's but one thought--one thought in my mind, and that +I wouldn't part with for the wealth of the universe." + +Both then proceeded at a quick puce until they reached the corner +of Bodagh's garden, where, with brief but earnest reassurances of +unalterable attachment, they took a tender and affectionate farewell. + +It is not often that the higher ranks can appreciate the moral beauty of +love as it is experienced by those humbler classes to whom they deny +the power of feeling in its most refined and exalted character. For our +parts we differ so much from them in this, that, if we wanted to give an +illustration of that passion in its purest and most delicate state, we +would not seek for it in the saloon or the drawing--room, but among the +green fields and the smiling landscapes of rural life. The simplicity +of humble hearts is more accordant with the unity of affection than any +mind can be that is distracted by the competition of rival claims upon +its gratification. We do not say that the votaries of rank and fashion +are insensible to love; because, how much soever they may be conversant +with the artificial and unreal, still they are human, and must, to a +certain extent, be influenced by a principle that acts wherever it can +find a heart on which to operate. We say, however, that their love, when +contrasted with that which is felt by the humble peasantry, is languid +and sickly; neither so pure, nor so simple, nor so intense. Its +associations in high life are unfavorable to the growth of a healthy +passion; for what is the glare of a lamp, a twirl through the insipid +maze of the ball-room, or the unnatural distortions of the theatre, +when compared to the rising of the summer sun, the singing of birds, +the music of the streams, the joyous aspect of the varied landscape, the +mountain, the valley, the lake, and a thousand other objects, each of +which transmits to the peasant's heart silently and imperceptibly that +subtle power which at once strengthens and purifies the passion? +There is scarcely such a thing as solitude in the upper ranks, nor an +opportunity of keeping the feelings unwasted, and the energies of +the heart unspent by the many vanities and petty pleasures with which +fashion forces a compliance, until the mind falls from its natural +dignity, into a habit of coldness and aversion to everything but the +circle of empty trifles in which it moves so giddily. But the enamored +youth who can retire to the beautiful solitude of the still glen to +brood over the image of her he loves, and who, probably, sits under the +very tree where his love was avowed and returned; he, we say, exalted +with the fulness of his happiness, feels his heart go abroad in gladness +upon the delighted objects that surround him, for everything that +he looks upon is as a friend; his happy heart expands over the whole +landscape; his eye glances to the sky; he thinks of the Almighty +Being above him, and though without any capacity to analyze his own +feelings--love--the love of some humble, plain but modest girl--kindles +by degrees into the sanctity and rapture of religion. + +Let not our readers of rank, then, if any such may honor our pages with +a perusal, be at all surprised at the expression of Connor O'Donovan +when, under the ecstatic power of a love so pure and artless as that +which bound his heart and Una's together, he exclaimed, as he did, +"Oh! I could pray to God this moment with a purer heart than I ever had +before!" Such a state of feeling among the people is neither rare nor +anomalous; for, however, the great ones and the wise ones of the world +may be startled at our assertion, we beg to assure them that love and +religion are more nearly related to each other than those, who have +never felt either in its truth and purity, can imagine. + +As Connor performed his journey home, the thunder tempest passed +fearfully through the sky; and, though the darkness was deep and +unbroken by anything but the red flashes of lightning, yet, so strongly +absorbed was his heart by the scene we have just related, that he +arrived at his father's house scarcely conscious of the roar of elements +which surrounded him. + +The family had retired to bed when he entered, with the exception of his +parents, who, having felt uneasy at his disappearance, were anxiously +awaiting his return, and entering into fruitless conjectures concerning +the cause of an absence so unusual. + +"What," said the alarmed mother, "what in the wide world could keep him +so long out, and on sich a tempest as is in it? God protect my boy +from all harm an' danger, this fearful night! Oh, Fardorougha, what 'ud +become of us if anything happened him? As for me--my heart's wrapped up +in him; wid--out our darlin' it 'ud break, break, Fardorougha." + +"Hut; he's gone to some neighbor's an' can't come out till the storm is +over; he'll soon be here now that the thunder an' lightnin's past." + +"But did you never think, Fardorougha, what 'ud become of you, or what +you'd do or how you'd live, if anything happened him? which the Almighty +forbid this night and forever! Could you live widout him?" + +The old man gazed upon her like one who felt displeasure at having a +contingency so painful forced upon his consideration. Without making +any reply, however, he looked thoughtfully into the fire for some time, +after which he rose up, and, with a querulous and impatient voice, said, + +"What's the use of thinkin' about sich things? Lose him! why would I +lose him? I couldn't lose him--I'd as soon lose my own life--I'd rather +be dead at wanst than lose him." + +"God knows your love for him is a quare love, Fardorougha," rejoined the +wife; "you wouldn't give him a guinea if it 'ud save his life, or allow +him even a few shillings now an' then, for pocket-money, that he might +be aquil to other young boys like him." + +"No use, no use in that, except to bring him into drink an' other bad +habits; a bad way, Honora, of showin' one's love for him. If you had +your will you'd spoil him; I'm keepin' whatsomever little shillin's +we've scraped together to settle him dacently in life; but, indeed, +that's time enough yet; he's too young to marry for some years to come, +barrin' he got a fortune." + +"Well, one thing, Fardorougha, if ever two people were blessed in a good +son, praise be God we are that!" + +"We are, Honor, we are; there's not his aquil in the parish--_achora +machree_ that he is. When I'm gone he'll know what I've done for him." + +"Whin you're gone; why, Saver of arth, sure you wouldn't keep him out +of his---- husth!----here he is, God be thanked! poor boy he's safe. Oh, +thin, _vich no Hoiah_, Connor jewel, were you out undher this terrible +night?" + +"Connor, _avich machree_," added the father, "you're lost! My hand to +you, if he's worth three hapuns; sthrip an' throw my Cothamore about +you, an' draw in to the fire; you're fairly lost." + +"I'm worth two lost people yet," said Connor, smiling; "mother, did you +ever see a pleasanter night?" + +"Pleasant, Connor, darlin'! Oh thin it's you may say so, I'm sure!" + +"Father, you're a worthy--only your Cothamore's too scimpt for me. +Faith, mother, although you think I'm jokin', the devil a one o' me is; +a pleasanter night--a happier night I never spent. Father, you ought to +be proud o' me, an' stretch out a bit with the cash; faith, I'm nothin' +else than a fine handsome young fellow." + +"Be me soul an' he ought to be proud out of you, Connor, whether you're +in arnest or not," observed the mother, "an' to stretch out wid the +_arrighad_ too if you want it." + +"Folly on, Connor, folly on! your mother'll back you, I'll go bail, say +what you will; but sure you know all I have must be yours yet, acushla." + +Connor now sat down, and his mother stirred up the fire, on which she +placed additional fuel. After a little time his manner changed, and a +shade of deep gloom fell upon his manly and handsome features. "I don't +know," he at length proceeded, "that, as we three are here together, +I could do betther than ask your advice upon what has happened to me +to-night." + +"Why, what has happened you, Connor?" said the mother alarmed; "plase +God, no harm, I hope." + +"Who else," added the father, "would you be guided by, if not by your +mother an' myself?" + +"No harm, mother, dear," said Connor in reply to her; "harm! Oh! mother, +mother, if you knew it; an' as for what you say, father, it's right; +what advice but my mother's an' yours ought I to ask?" + +"An' God's too," added the mother. + +"An' my heart was nevir more _ris_ to God than it was', an' is this +night," replied their ingenuous boy. + +"Well, but what has happened, Connor?" said his father; "if it's +anything where our advice can serve you, of coorse we'll advise you for +the best." + +Connor then, with a glowing heart, made them acquainted with the +affection which subsisted between himself and Una O'Brien, and ended by +informing them of the vow of marriage which they had that night solemnly +pledged to each other. + +"You both know her by sight," he added, "an' afther what I've sed, can +you blame me for sayin' that I found this a pleasant and a happy night?" + +The affectionate mother's eyes filled with tears of pride and delight, +on hearing that her handsome son was loved by the beautiful daughter of +Bodagh Buie, and she could not help exclaiming, in the enthusiasm of the +moment, + +"She's a purty girl--the purtiest indeed I ever laid my two livin' eyes +upon, and by all accounts as good as she's purty; but I say that, face +to face, you're as good, ay, an' as handsome, Fardorougha, as she is. +God bless her, any way, an' mark her to grace and happiness, _ma colleen +dhas dhun_." + +"He's no match for her," said the father, who had listened with an +earnest face, and compressed lips, to his son's narrative; "he's no +match for her--by four hundred guineas." + +Honora, when he uttered the previous part of his observation, looked +upon him with a flash of indignant astonishment; but when he had +concluded, her countenance fell back into its original expression. It +was evident that, while she, with the feelings of a woman and a mother, +instituted a parallel between their personal merits alone, the husband +viewed their attachment through that calculating spirit which had +regulated his whole life. + +"You're thinkin' of her money now," she added; "but remimber, +Fardorougha, that it wasn't born wid her. An' I hope, Connor, it's not +for her money that you have any grah for her?" + +"You may swear that, mother; I love her little finger betther than all +the money in the king's bank." + +"Connor, avich, your mother has made a fool of you, or you wouldn't +spake the nonsense you spoke this minute." + +"My word to you, father, I'll take all the money I'll get; but what am I +to do? Bodagh Buie an' his wife will never consent to allow her to marry +me, I can tell you; an' if she marries me without their consent, you +both know I have no way of supportin' her, except you, father, assist +me." + +"That won't be needful, Connor; you may manage them; they won't see her +want; she's an only daughter; they couldn't see her want." + +"An' isn't he an only son, Fardorougha?" exclaimed the wife. "An' my +sowl to happiness but I believe you'd see him want." + +"Any way," replied her husband, "I'm not for matches against the consint +of parents; they're not lucky; or can't you run away wid her, an' thin +refuse marryin' her except they come down wid the cash?" + +"Oh, father!" exclaimed Connor, "father, father, to become a villain!" + +"Connor," said his mother, rising up in a spirit of calm and mournful +solemnity, "never heed; go to bed, achora, go to bed." + +"Of coorse I'll never heed, mother," he replied; "but I can't help +sayin' that, happy as I was awhile agone, my father is sendin' me to bed +with a heavy heart. When I asked your advice, father, little I thought +it would be to do--but no matter; I'll never be guilty of an act that +'ud disgrace my name." + +"No, avillish," said his mother, "you never will; God knows it's as much +an' more than you an' other people can do, to keep the name we have in +decency." + +"It's fine talk," observed Fardorougha, "but what I advise has been done +by hundreds that wor married an' happy afterwards; how--an--iver you +needn't get into a passion, either of you; I'm not pressin' you,' +Connor, to it." + +"Connor, achree," said his mother, "go to bed, an' instead of the advice +you got, ax God's; go, avillish!" + +Connor, without making any further observation, sought his +sleeping-room, where, having recommended himself to God, in earnest +prayer, he lay revolving all that had occurred that night, until the +gentle influence of sleep at length drew him into oblivion. + +"Now," said his mother to Fardorougha, when Connor had gone, "you must +sleep by yourself; for, as for me, my side I'll not stretch on the same +bed wid you to-night." + +"Very well, I can't help that," said her husband; "all I can say is +this, that I'm not able to put sinse or prudence into you or Connor; +so, since you won't be guided by me, take your own coorse. Bodagh Buie's +very well able to provide for them--; an' if he won't do so before they +marry, why let Connor have nothing to say to her." + +"I'll tell you what, Fardorougha, God wouldn't be in heaven, or you'll +get a cut heart yet, either through your son or your money; an' that it +may not be through my darlin' boy, O, grant, sweet Saver o' the earth, +this night! I'm goin' to sleep wid Biddy Casey, an' you'll find a clane +nightcap on the rail o' the bed; an', Fardorougha, afore you put it an, +kneel down an' pray to God to change your heart--for it wants it--it +wants it." + +In Ireland the first object of a servant man, after entering the +employment of his master, is to put himself upon an amicable footing +with his fellow-servants of the other sex. Such a step, besides being +natural in itself, is often taken in consequence of the _esprit du +corps_ which prevails among persons of that class. Bartle Flanagan, +although he could not be said to act from any habit previously acquired +in service, went to work with all the tact and adroitness of a veteran. +The next morning, after having left the barn where he slept, he +contrived to throw himself in the way of Biddy Duggan, a girl, who, +though vain and simple, was at the same time conscientious and honest. +On passing from the barn to the kitchen, he noticed her returning from +the well with a pitcher of water in each hand, and as it is considered +an act of civil attention for the male servant, if not otherwise +employed, to assist the female in small, matters of the kind, so did +Flanagan, in his best manner and kindest voice, bid her good-morning and +offer to carry home the pitcher. + +"It's the least I may do," said he, "now that I'm your fellow-servant; +but before you go farther, lay down your burden, an' let us chat +awhile." + +"Indeed," replied Biddy, "it's little we expected ever to see your +father's son goin' to earn his bread undher another man's roof." + +"Pooh! Biddy! there's greater wondhers in the world than that, woman +alive! But tell me--pooh--ay, is there a thousand quarer things--but I +say, Biddy, how do you like to--live wid this family?" + +"Why, troth indeed, only for the withered ould leprechaun himself, divil +a dacenter people ever broke bread." + +"Yet, isn't it a wondher that the ould fellow is what he is, an' he so +full o' money?" + +"Troth, there's one thing myself wondhers at more than that." + +"What, Biddy? let us hear it." + +"Why, that you could be mane an' shabby! enough to come as a sarvint to +ate the bread of the man that ruined yees!" + +"Biddy," replied Flanagan, "I'm glad! you've said it; but do you think +that I have so bad a heart as too keep revinge in against an inimy? How +could I go to my knees at night, if I--no, Biddy, we must be Christians. +Well! let us drop that; so you tell me this mother an' son are kind to +you." + +"As good-hearted a pair as ever lived." + +"Connor, of course, can't but be very kind to so good-looking a girl as +you are, Biddy," said Bartle, with a knowing smile. + +"Very kind! good-looking! ay, indeed, I'm sure o' that, Bartle; behave! +an' don't be gettin' an wid any o' your palavers. What 'ud make Connor +be kind to the likes of me, that way?" + +"I don't see why you oughtn't an' mightn't--you're as good as him, if it +goes to that." + +"Oh, yis, indeed!" + +"Why, you know you'r handsome." + +"Handsome," replied the vain girl, tightening her apron-strings, and +assuming a sly, coquettish look; "Bartle, go 'an mind your business, and +let me bring home my pitchers; it's time the breakwist was down. Sich +nonsense!" + +"Very well, you're not, thin; you've a bad leg, a bad figure, an' a bad +face, an' it would be a terrible thing all out for Connor O'Donovan to +fall in consate wid you." + +"Well, about Connor I could tell you something;--me! tut! go to +the sarra;--faix, you don't know them that Connor's afther, nor the +collogin' they all had about it no longer ago than last night itself. +I suppose they thought I was asleep, but it was like the hares, wid my +eyes open." + +"An' it's a pity, Biddy, ever the same two eyes should be shut. Begad, +myself is beginning to feel quare somehow, when I look at them." + +A glance of pretended incredulity was given in return, after which she +proceeded-- + +"Bartle, don't be bringin' yourself to the fair wid sich folly. My eyes +is jist as God made them; but I can tell you that before a month o' +Sundays passes, I wouldn't be surprised if you seen Connor married +to--you wouldn't guess!" + +"Not I; divil a hap'orth I know about who he's courtin'." + +"No less than our great beauty, Bodagh Buie's daughter, Una O'Brien. +Now, Bartle, for goodness sake, don't let this cross your lips to a +livin' mortal. Sure I heard him tellin' all to the father and mother +last night--they're promised to one another. Eh! blessed saints, Bartle, +what ails you? you're as white as a sheet. What's wrong? and what did +you start for?" + +"Nothin'," replied Flanagan, coolly, "but a stitch in my side. I'm +subject to that--it pains me very much while it lasts, and laves me +face, as you say, the color of dimity; but about Connor, upon my throth, +I'm main proud to hear it; she's a purty girl, an' besides he'll have a +fortune that'll make a man of him. I am, in throth, heart proud to +hear it. It's a pity Connor's father isn't as dacent as himself. Arrah, +Biddy, where does the ould codger keep his money?" + +"Little of it in the house any way--sure, whenever he scrapes a guinea +together he's away wid it to the county ---- county ---- och, that +countryman that keeps the money for the people." + +"The treasurer; well, much good may his thrash do him, Biddy, that's +the worst I wish him. Come now and I'll lave your pitchers at home, and +remember you owe me something for this." + +"Good will, I hope." + +"That for one thing," he replied, as they went along; "but we'll talk +more about it when we have time; and I'll thin tell you the truth about +what brought me to hire wid Fardorougha Donovan." + +Having thus excited that most active principle called female curiosity, +both entered the kitchen, where they found Connor and his mother in +close and apparently confidential conversation--Fardorougha himself +having as usual been abroad upon his farm for upwards of an hour before +any of them had risen. + +The feelings with which they met that morning at breakfast may be easily +understood by our readers without much assistance of ours. On the part +of Fardorougha there was a narrow, selfish sense of exultation, if not +triumph, at the chance that lay before his son of being able to settle +himself independently in life, without the necessity of making any +demand upon the hundreds which lay so safely in the keeping of the +County Treasurer. His sordid soul was too deeply imbued with the love +of money to perceive that what he had hitherto looked upon as a proof +of parental affection and foresight, was nothing more than a fallacy +by which he was led day after day farther into his prevailing vice. +In other words, now that love for his son, and the hope of seeing him +occupy a respectable station in society, ought to have justified the +reasoning by which he had suffered himself to be guided, it was apparent +that the prudence which he had still considered to be his duty as a +kind parent, was nothing else than a mask for his own avarice. The idea, +therefore, of seeing Connor settled without any aid from himself, filled +his whole soul with a wild, hard satisfaction, which gave him as much +delight as perhaps he was capable of enjoying. The advice offered to +his son on the preceding night appeared to him a matter so reasonable in +itself, and the opportunity offered by Una's attachment so well adapted +for making it an instrument to work upon the affections of her parents, +that he could not for the life of him perceive why they should entertain +any rational objection against it. + +The warm-hearted mother participated so largely in all that affected the +happiness of her son, that, if we allow for the difference of sex and +position, we might describe their feelings as bearing, in the character +of their simple and vivid enjoyment, a very remarkable resemblance. +This amiable woman's affection for Connor was reflected upon Una +O'Brien, whom she now most tenderly loved, not because the fair girl was +beautiful, but because she had plighted her troth to that Son who had +been during his whole life her own solace and delight. + +No sooner was the morning meal concluded, and the servants engaged at +their respective employments, than Honor, acting probably under Connor's +suggestion, resolved at once to ascertain whether her husband could so +far overcome his parsimony as to establish their son and Una in life; +that is, in the event of Una's parents opposing their marriage, and +declining to render them any assistance. With this object in view, she +told him, as he was throwing his great-coat over his shoulders, in order +to proceed to the fields, that she wished to speak to him upon a matter +of deep importance. + +"What is it?" said Fardorougha, with a hesitating shrug, "what is it? +This is ever an' always the way when you want _money_; but I tell you +I have no money. You wor born to waste and extravagance, Honor, an' +there's no curin' you. What is it you want? an' let me go about my +business." + +"Throw that ould threadbare Cothamore off o' you," replied Honor, "and +beg of God to give you grace to sit down, an' have common feeling and +common sense." + +"If it's money to get cloes either for yourself or Connor, there's no +use in it. I needn't sit; you don't want a stitch, either of you." + +Honor, without more ado, seized the coat, and, flinging it aside, pushed +him over to a seat on which she forced him to sit down. + +"As heaven's above me," she exclaimed, "I dunna what come over you at +all, at all. Your money, your thrash, your dirt an' filth, ever, ever, +an' for evermore in your thought, heart and sowl. Oh, Chierna! to think +of it, an' you know there is a God above you, an' that you must meet +Him, an' that widout your money too!" + +"Ay, ay, the money's what you want to come at; but I'll not sit here to +be hecthor'd. What is it, I say again, you want?" + +"Fardorougha ahagur," continued the wife, checking herself, and +addressing him in a kind and affectionate voice, "maybe I was spakin' +too harsh to you, but sure it was an' is for your own good. How an' +ever, I'll thry kindness, and if you have a heart at all, you can't but +show it when you hear what I'm goin' to say." + +"Well, well, go an," replied the pertinacious husband; "but--money--ay, +ay, is there. I feel, by the way you're comin' about me, that there is +money at the bottom of it." + +The wife raised her hands and eyes to heaven, shook her head, and after +a slight pause, in which she appeared to consider her appeal a hopeless +one, she at length went on in an earnest but subdued and desponding +spirit-- + +"Fardorougha, the time's now come that will show the world whether you +love Connor or not." + +"I don't care a pin about the world; you an' Connor know well enough +that I love him." + +"Love for one's child doesn't come out merely in words, Fardorougha; +actin' for their benefit shows it better than spakin'. Don't you grant +that?" + +"Very well, may be I do, and again may be I don't; there's times when +the one's better than the other; but go an; may be I do grant it." + +"Now tell me where in this parish, ay, or in the next five parishes to +it, you'd find sich a boy for a father or mother to be proud out of, as +Connor, your own darlin' as you often cau him?" + +"Divil a one, Honor; _damnho_ to the one; I won't differ wid you in +that." + +"You won't differ wid me! the divil thank you for that. You won't +indeed! but could you, I say, if you wor willin'?" + +"I tell you I could _not_." + +"Now there's sinse an' kindness in that. Very well, you say you're +gatherin' up all the money you can for him." + +"For him--him," exclaimed the unconscious miser, "why, what do you +mane--for--well--ay--yes, yes, I did say for him; it's for him I'm +keeping it--it is, I tell you." + +"Now, Fardorougha, you know he's ould enough to be settled in life on +his own account, an' you heard last night the girl he can get, if you +stand to him, as he ought to expect from a father that loves him." + +"Why, last night, thin, didn't I give my--" + +"Whist, ahagur! hould your tongue awhile, and let me go on. Thruth's +best--he dotes on that girl to such a degree, that if he doesn't get +her, he'll never see another happy day while he's alive." + +"All _feasthalagh_, Honor--that won't pass wid me; I know otherwise +myself. Do you think that if I hadn't got you, I'd been unhappy +four-an'-twenty hours, let alone my whole life? I tell you that's +_feasthalagh_, an' won't pass. He wouldn't eat an ounce the less if he +was never to get her. You seen the breakfast he made this mornin'; +I didn't begrudge it to him, but may I never stir if that Flanagan +wouldn't ate a horse behind the saddle; he has a stomach that'd require +a king's ransom to keep it." + +"You know nothing of what I'm spakin' about," replied his wife. "I +wasn't _Una dhas dhun_ O'Brien in my best days; an' be the vestment, you +warn't Connor, that has more feelin', an' spirit, an' generosity in the +nail of his little finger than ever you had in your whole carcass. I +tell you if he doesn't get married to that girl he'll break his heart. +Now how can he marry her except you take a good farm for him, and stock +it dacently, so that he may have a home sich as she desarves to bring +her to?" + +"How do you know but they'll give her a fortune when they find her bent +on him?" + +"Why, it's not unpossible," said the wife, immediately changing her +tactics, "it's not impossible, but I can tell you it's very unlikely." + +"The best way, then, in my opinion, 'ud be to spake to Connor about +breaking it to the family." + +"Why, that's fair enough," said the wife. "I wondher myself I didn't +think of it, but the time was so short since last night." + +"It is short," replied the miser, "far an' away too short to expect +any one to make up their mind about it. Let them not be rash themselves +aither, for I tell you that when people marry in haste, they're apt to +have time enough to repint at laysure." + +"Well, but Fardorougha acushla, now hear me, throth it's thruth and +sinse what you say; but still, avourneen, listen; now set in case +that the Bodagh and his wife don't consint to their marriage, or to +do anything for them, won't you take them a farm and stock it bravely? +Think of poor Connor, the darlin' fine fellow that he is. Oh, thin, +Saver above, but it's he id go to the well o' the world's end to ase +you, if your little finger only ached. He would, or for myself, and yet +his own father to trate him wid sich--" + +It was in vain she attempted to proceed; the subject was one in which +her heart felt too deep an interest to be discussed without tears. A +brief silence ensued, during which Fardorougha moved uneasily on his +seat, took the tongs, and mechanically mended the fire, and, peering at +his wife with a countenance twitched as if by _tic douloureux_, +stared round the house with a kind of stupid wonder, rose up, then sat +instantly down, and in fact exhibited many of those unintelligible and +uncouth movements, which, in person of his cast, may be properly +termed the hieroglyphics of human action, under feelings that cannot be +deciphered either by those on whom they operate, or by those who witness +them. + +"Yes," said he, "Connor is all you say, an' more--an' more--an'--an'--a +rash act is the worst thing he could do. It's betther, Honor, to spake +to him as I sed, about lettin' the matther be known to Una's family out +of hand." + +"And thin, if they refuse, you can show them a ginerous example, by +puttin' them into a dacent farm. Will you promise me that, Fardorougha? +If you do, all's right, for they're not livin' that ever knew you to +braak your word or your promise." + +"I'll make no promise, Honor; I'll make no promise; but let the other +plan be tried first. Now don't be pressin' me; he is a noble boy, and +would, as you say, thravel round the earth to keep my little finger from +pain; but let me alone about it now--let me alone about it." + +This, though slight encouragement, was still, in Honor's opinion, +quite as much as, if not more, than she expected. Without pressing him, +therefore, too strongly at that moment, she contented herself with a +full-length portrait of their son, drawn with all the skill of a mother +who knew, if her husband's heart could be touched at all, those points +at which she stood the greatest chance of finding it accessible. + +For a few days after this the subject of Connor's love was permitted to +lie undebated, in the earnest hope that Fardorougha's heart might have +caught some slight spark of natural affection from the conversation +which had taken place between him and Honor. They waited, consequently, +with patience for some manifestation on his part of a better feeling, +and flattered themselves that his silence proceeded from the struggle +which they knew a man of his disposition must necessarily feel in +working up his mind to any act requiring him to part with that which +he loved better than life, his money. The ardent temperament of Connor, +however, could ill brook the pulseless indifference of the old man; with +much difficulty, therefore, was he induced to wait a whole week for the +issue, though sustained by the mother's assurance, that, in consequence +of the impression left on her by their last conversation, she was +certain the father, if not urged beyond his wish, would declare himself +willing to provide for them. A week, however, elapsed, and Fardorougha +moved on in the same hard and insensible spirit which was usual to him, +wholly engrossed by money, and never, either directly or indirectly, +appearing to remember that the happiness and welfare of his son were at +stake, or depending upon the determination to which he might come. + +Another half week passed, during which Connor had made two unsuccessful +attempts to see Una, in order that some fixed plan of intercourse +might be established between them, at least until his father's ultimate +resolution on the subject proposed to him should be known. He now felt +deeply distressed, and regretted that the ardor of his attachment had so +far borne him away during their last meeting, that he had forgotten to +concert measures with Una for their future interviews. + +He had often watched about her father's premises from a little before +twilight until the whole family had gone to bed, yet without any chance +either of conversing with her, or of letting her know that he was in the +neighborhood. He had gone to chapel, too, with the hope of seeing +her, or snatching a hasty opportunity of exchanging a word or two, if +possible; but to his astonishment she had not attended mass--an omission +of duty of which she had not been guilty for the last three years. What, +therefore, was to be done? For him to be detected lurking about the +Bodagh's house might create suspicion, especially after their interview +in the garden, which very probably had, through the officiousness of +the servants, been communicated to her parents. In a matter of such +difficulty he bethought him of a confidant, and the person to whom the +necessity of the ease directed him was Bartle Flanagan. Bartle, indeed, +ever since he entered into his father's service, had gained rapidly upon +Connor's good will, and on one or two occasions well-nigh succeeded +in drawing from him a history of the mutual attachment which subsisted +between him and Una. His good humor, easy language, and apparent +friendship for young O'Donovan, together with his natural readiness of +address, or, if you will, of manner, all marked him out as admirably +qualified to act as a confidant in a matter which required the very tact +and talent he possessed. + +"Poor fellow," thought Connor to himself, "it will make him feel more +like one of the family than a servant. If he can think that he's trated +as my friend and companion, he may forget that he's ating the bread of +the very man that drove him an' his to destruction. Ay, an' if we're +married, I'm not sure but I'll have him to give me away too." + +This resolution of permitting Flanagan to share his confidence had been +come to by Connor upon the day subsequent to that on which he had last +tried to see Una. After his return home, disappointment on one hand, and +his anxiety concerning his father's liberality on the other, together +with the delight arising from the certainty of being beloved, all kept +his mind in a tumult, and permitted him to sleep but little. The next +day he decided on admitting Bartle to his confidence, and reposing this +solemn trust to his integrity. He was lying on his back in the +meadow--for they had been ricking the hay from the lapcocks--when that +delicious languor which arises from the three greatest provocatives to +slumber, want of rest, fatigue, and heat, so utterly overcame him, that, +forgetting his love, and all the anxiety arising from it, he fell into a +dreamless and profound sleep. + +From this state he was aroused after about an hour by the pressure of +something sharp and painful against his side, near the region of the +heart, and on looking up, he discovered Bartle Flanagan standing over +him with pitchfork in his hand, one end of which was pressed against +his breast, as if he had been in the act of driving it forward into his +body. His face was pale, his dark brows frightfully contracted, and +his teeth apparently set together, as if working over some fearful +determination. When Connor awoke, Flanagan broke out into a laugh that +no language could describe. The character of mirth which he wished +to throw into his face, jarred so terrifically with his demoniacal +expression when first seen by Connor, that, even unsuspecting as he +was, he started up with alarm, and asked Flanagan what was the matter. +Flanagan, however, laughed on--peal after peal succeeded--he tossed the +pitchfork aside, and, clapping both his hands upon his face, continued +the paroxysms until he recovered his composure. + +"Oh," said he, "I'm sick, I'm as wake as a child wid laughin'; but, Lord +bless us, after all, Connor, what is a man's life worth whin he has an +enemy near him? There was I, ticklin' you wid the pitchfork, strivin' +to waken you, and one inch of it would have baked your bread for life. +Didn't you feel me, Connor?" + +"Divil a bit, till the minute before I ris." + +"Then the divil a purtier jig you ever danced in your life; wait till I +show you how your left toe wint." + +He accordingly lay down and illustrated the pretended action, after +which he burst out into another uncontrollable fit of mirth. + +"'Twas just for all the world," said he, "as if I had tied a string to +your toe, for you groaned an' grunted, an' went on like I dunna what; +but, Connor, what makes you so sleepy to-day as well as on Monday last?" + +"That's the very thing," replied the unsuspicious and candid young man, +"that I wanted to spake to you about." + +"What! about sleepin' in the meadows?" + +"Divil a bit o' that, Bartle, not a morsel of sleepin' in the meadows is +consarned in what I'm goin' to mintion to you. Bartle, didn't you tell +me, the day you hired wid my father, that you wor in love?" + +"I did, Connor, I did." + +"Well, so am I; but do you know who I'm in love with?" + +"How the divil, man, could I?" + +"Well, no swerin', Bartle; keep the commandments, my boy. I'll tell +you in the mane time, an' that's more than you did me, you +close-mouth-is-a-sign-of-a-wise-head spalpeen!" + +"Did you ever hear tell of one _Colleen dhas dhun_ as she's called, +known by the name Una or Oona O'Brien, daughter to one Bodagh Buie +O'Brien, the richest man, barin' a born gentleman, in the three +parishes?" + +"All very fair, Connor, for you or any one else to be in love wid +her--ay, man alive, for myself, if it goes to that--but, but, Connor, +avouchal, are you sure that sure you'll bring her to be in love wid +you?" + +"Bartle," said Connor, seriously and after a sudden change in his whole +manner, "in this business I'm goin' to trate you as a friend, and a +brother. She loves me, Bartle, and a solemn promise of marriage has +passed between us." + +"Connor," said Bartle, "it's wondherful, it's wondherful! you couldn't +believe what a fool I am--fool! no, but a faint-hearted, cowardly +villain." + +"What do you mane, Bartle? what the dickens are you drivin' at!" + +"Driven at! whenever I happen to have an opportunity of makin' a drive +that id--but! I'm talkin' balderdash. Do you see here, Connor," said he, +putting his hand to his neck, "do you see here?" + +"To be sure I do. Well, what about there?" + +"Be my sowl, I'm very careful of--but!--sure I may as well tell you the +whole truth--I sed I was in love; well, man, that was thrue, an'," he +added in a low, pithy whisper, "I was near--no, Connor, I won't but +go an; it's enough for you to know that I was an' am in love, an' that +it'll go hard wid me if ever any one else is married to the girl I'm in +love wid. Now that my business is past, let me hear yours, poor fellow, +an' I'm devilish glad to know, Connor, that--that--why, tunder an' ouns, +that you're not as I am. Be the crass that saved us, Connor, I'm glad of +that!" + +"Why, love will set you mad, Bartle, if you don't take care of +yourself; an', faith, I dunna but it may do the same with myself, if I'm +disappointed. However, the truth is, you must sarve me in this business. +I struv to see her twiste, but couldn't, an' I'm afraid of bein' seen +spyin' about their place." + +"The truth is, Connor, you want to make me a go-between--a blackfoot; +very well, I'll do that same on your account, an' do it well, too, I +hope." + +It was then arranged that Flanagan, who was personally known to some of +the Bodagli's servants, should avail himself of that circumstance, and +contrive to gain an interview with Una, in order to convey her a letter +from O'Donovan. He was further enjoined by no means to commit it to the +hands of any person save those of Una herself, and, in the event of his +not being able to see her, then the letter was to be returned to Connor. +If he succeeded, however, in delivering it, he was to await an answer, +provided she found an opportunity of sending one; if not, she was to +inform Connor, through Flanagan, at what time and place he could see +her. This arrangement having been made, Connor immediately wrote the +letter, and, after having despatched Flanagan upon his errand, set +himself to perform, by his individual labor, the task which his father +had portioned out for both. Ere Bartle's return, Fardorougha came to +inspect their progress in the meadow, and, on finding that the servant +was absent, he inquired sharply into the cause of it. + +"He's gone on a message for me," replied Connor, with the utmost +frankness. + +"But that's a bad way for him to mind his business," said the father. + +"I'll have the task that you set both of us finished," replied the son, +"so that you'll lose nothin' by his absence, at all events." + +"It's wrong, Connor, it's wrong; where did you sind him to?" + +"To Bodagh Buie's wid a letter to Una." + +"It's a waste of time, an' a loss of work; about that business I have +something to say to your mother an' you to--night, afther the supper, +when the rest goes to bed." + +"I hope, father,you'll do the dacent thing still." + +"No; but I hope, son, you'll do the wise thing still; how--an--ever let +me alone now; if you expect me to do anything, you mustn't drive me as +your mother does. To-night we'll make up a plan that'll outdo Bodagh +Buie. Before you come home, Connor, throw a stone or two in that gap, +to prevent the cows from gettin' into the hay; it won't cost you much +throuble. But, Connor, did you ever see sich a gut as Bartle has? +He'll brake me out o'house an' home feedin' him; he has a stomach for +ten-penny-nails; be my word it 'ud be a charity to give him a dose of +oak bark to make him dacent; he's a divil at aitin', an' little good may +it do him!" + +The hour of supper arrived without Bartle's returning, and Connor's +impatience began to overcome him, when Fardorougha, for the first time, +introduced the subject which lay nearest his son's heart. + +"Connor," he began, "I've been thinkin' of this affair with Una O'Brien; +an' in my opinion there's but one way out of it; but if you're a fool +an' stand in your own light, it's not my fault." + +"What is the way, father?" inquired Connor. + +"The very same I tould your mother an' you before--run away wid her--I +mane make a runaway match of it--then refuse to marry her unless they +come down wid the money. You know afther runnin' away wid you nobody +else ever would marry her; so that rather than see their child +disgraced, never fear but they'll pay down on the nail, or maybe bring +you both to live wid 'em." + +"My sowl to glory, Fardorougha," said the wife, "but you're a bigger an' +cunninner ould rogue than I ever took you for! By the scapular upon me, +if I had known how you'd turn out, the sorra carry the ring ever you'd +put on my finger!" + +"Father," said Connor, "I must be disobedient to you in this at all +events. It's plain you'll do nothing for us; so there's no use in sayin' +anything more about it. I have no manes of supportin' her, an' I swear +I'll never bring her to poverty. If I had money to carry me, I'd go to +America an' thry my fortune there; but I have not. Father, it's too hard +that you should stand in my way when you could so easily make me happy. +Who have you sich a right to assist as your son--your only son, an' your +only child too?" + +This was spoken in a tone of respect and sorrow at once impressive +and affectionate. His fine features were touched with something beyond +sadness or regret, and, as the tears stood in his eyes, it was easy to +see that he felt much more deeply for his father's want of principle +than for anything connected with his own hopes and prospects. In fact, +the tears that rolled silently down his cheeks were the tears of shame +and sorrow for a parent who could thus school him to an act of such +unparalleled baseness. As it was, the genius of the miser felt rebuked +by the natural delicacy and honor of his son; the old man therefore +shrunk back abashed, confused, and moved at the words which he had +heard--simple and inoffensive though they were. + +"Fardorougha," said the wife, wiping her eyes, that were kindling into +indignation, "we're now married goin' an--" + +"I think, mother," said Connor, "the less we say about it now the +better--with my own good will I'll never speak on the subject." + +"You're right, avourneen," replied the mother; "you're right; I'll say +nothing--God sees it's no use." + +"What would you have me do?" said the old man, rising and walking' about +in unusual distress and agitation; "you don't know me--I can't do it--I +cant do it. You say, Honor, I don't care about him--I'd give him my +blood--I'd give him my blood to save a hair of his head. My life an' +happiness depinds on him; but who knows how he an' his wife might +mismanage that money if they got it--both young an' foolish? It wasn't +for nothing it came into my mind what I'm afeard will happen to me yet." + +"And what was that, Fardorougha?" asked the wife. + +"Sich foreknowledge doesn't come for nothing, Honor. I've had it +an' felt it hangin' over me this many a long day, that I'd come to +starvation yit; an' I see, that if you force me to do as you wish, that +it 'ill happen. I'm as sure of it as that I stand before you. I'm an +unfortunate man wid sich a fate before me; an' yet I'd shed my blood for +my boy--I would, an' he ought to know that I would; but he wouldn't ax +me to starve for him--would you, Connor, avick machree, would you ax +your father to starve? I'm unhappy--unhappy--an' my heart's breakin'!" + +The old man's voice failed him as he uttered the last words; for the +conflict which he felt evidently convulsed his whole frame. He wiped his +eyes, and, again sitting down, he wept bitterly and in silence, for many +minutes. + +A look of surprise, compassion, and deep distress passed between Connor +and his mother. The latter also was very much affected, and said, + +"Fardorougha, dear, maybe I spake sometimes too cross to you; but if I +do, God above knows it's not that I bear you ill will, but bekase I'm +troubled about poor Connor. But I hope I won't spake angry to you again; +at all events, if I do, renumber it's only the mother pladin' for her +son--the only son an' child that God was plazed to sind her." + +"Father," added Connor, also deeply moved, "don't distress yourself +about me--don't, father dear. Let things take their chance; but come or +go what will, any good fortune that might happen me wouldn't be sweet if +it came by givin' you a sore heart." + +At this moment the barking of the dog gave notice of approaching +footsteps; and in a few moments the careless whistle of Bartle Flanagan +was heard within a few yards of the door. + +"This is Bartle," said Connor; "maybe, father, his answer may throw some +light upon the business. At any rate, there's no secret in it; we'll all +hear what news he brings us." + +He had scarcely concluded when the latch was lifted, but Bartle could +not enter. + +"It's locked and bolted," said Fardorougha; "as he sleeps in the barn I +forgot that he was to come in here any more to-night--open it, Connor." + +"For the sake of all the money you keep in the house, father," said +Connor, smiling, "it's hardly worth your while to be so timorous; but +God help the county treasurer if he forgot to bar his door--Asy, Bartle, +I'm openin' it." + +Flanagan immediately entered, and, with all the importance of a +confidant, took his seat at the fire. + +"Well, Bartle," said Connor, "what news?" + +"Let the boy get his supper first," said Honor; "Bartle, you must be +starved wid hunger." + +"Faith, I'm middlin' well, I thank you, that same way," replied Bartle; +"divil a one o' me but's as ripe for my supper as a July cherry; an' wid +the blessin' o' Heaven upon my endayvors I'll soon show you what good +execution is." + +A deep groan from Fardorougha gave back a fearful echo to the truth of +this formidable annunciation. + +"Aren't you well, Fardorougha?" asked Bartle. + +"Throth I'm not, Bartle; never was more uncomfortable in my life." + +Flanagan immediately commenced his supper, which consisted of flummery +and new milk--a luxury among the lower ranks which might create envy in +an epicure. As he advanced in the work of destruction, the gray eye +of Fardorougha, which followed every spoonful that entered his mouth, +scintillated like that of a cat when rubbed down the back, though from +a directly opposite feeling. He turned and twisted on the chair, and +looked from his wife to his son, then turned up his eyes, and appeared +to feel as if a dagger entered his heart with every additional dig of +Bartle's spoon into the flummery. The son and wife smiled at each other; +for they could enjoy those petty sufferings of Fardorougha with a great +deal of good-humor. + +"Bartle," said Connor, "what's the news?" + +"Divil a word worth telling; at laste that I can hear." + +"I mane from Bodagh Buie's." + +Bartle stared at him; "Bodagh Buie's!--what do I know about Bodagh Buie? +are you ravin'?" + +"Bartle," said Connor, smiling, "my father and mother knows all about +it--an' about your going to Una with the letter. I have no secrets from +them." + +"Hoot toot! That's a horse of another color; but you wouldn't have me, +widout knowin' as much, to go to betray trust. In the mane time, I may +as well finish my supper before I begin to tell you what-som-ever I +happen to know about it." + +Another deep groan from Fardorougha followed the last observation. + +At length the work of demolition ceased, and after Honor had put past +the empty dish, Bartle, having wiped his mouth, and uttered a hiccup or +two, thus commenced to dole out his intelligence:-- + +"Whin I wint to the Bodagh's," said Bartle, "it was wid great +schamin' an' throuble I got a sight of Miss Una at all, in regard of +--(hiccup)--in regard of her not knowin' that there was any sich message +for her--(hiccup). But happenin' to know Sally Laffan, I made bould to +go into the kitchen to ax, you know, how was her aunt's family up +in Skelgy, when who should I find before me in it but Sally an' Miss +Una--(hiccup). (Saver of earth this night! from Fardorougha.) Of coorse +I shook hands wid her--wid Sally, I mane; an', 'Sally,' says I, 'I was +sent in wid a message from the masther to you; he's in the haggard an' +wants you.' So, begad, on---(hiccup) out she goes, an' the coast bein' +clear, 'Miss Una,' says I, 'here's a scrap of a letther from Misther +Connor O'Donovan; read it, and if you can write him an answer, do; if +you haven't time say whatever you have to say by me.' She go--(hiccup) +she got all colors when I handed it to her; an' run away, say--in' to +me, 'wait for a while, an' don't go till I see you.' In a minute or +two Sally comes in agin as mad as the dickens wid me, 'The curse o' the +crows an' you!' says she, 'why did you make me run a fool's erran' for +no rason? The masther wasn't in the haggard, an' didn't want me good or +bad.'" + +"Bartle," said the impatient lover, "pass all that over for the present, +an' let us know the answer, if she sent any." + +"Sent any! be my sowl, she did so! Afther readin' your letther, an' +findin' that she could depind on me, she said that for fear of any +remarks bein' made about my waitin', espishally as I live at present +in this family, it would be better she thought to answer it by word o' +mouth. 'Tell him,' said she, 'that I didn't think he wa--(hiccup) (Queen +o' heaven!) was so dull an' ignorant o' the customs of the country, as +not to know that whin young people want to see one another they stay +away from mass wid an expectation that'--begad, I disremimber exactly +her own words; but it was as much as to say that she staid at home on +last Sunday expectin' to see you." + +"Well, but Bartle, what else?--short an' sweet, man." + +"Why, she'll meet you on next Thursday night, God willin', in the same +place; an' whin I axed her where, she said you knew it yourself." + +"An' is that all?" + +"No, it's not all; she sed it 'ud be better to mention the thing to +her father. Afther thinkin' it over she says, 'as your father has the +na--(hiccup) '(Saints above!) the name of being so rich, she doesn't +know if a friend 'ud interfere but his consint might be got;' an' that's +all I have to say about it, barrin' that she's a very purty girl, an' I'd +advise you not to be too sure of her yet, Bartle. So now I'm for the +barn--Good night, Far--(hiccup) (at my cost, you do it!) Fardorougha." + +He rose and proceeded to his sleeping--place in the barn, whither +Connor, who was struck by his manner, accompanied him. + +"Bartle," said O'Donovan, "did you take anything since I saw you last?" + +"Only a share of two naggins wid my brother Antony at Peggy Finigan's." + +"I noticed it upon you," observed Connor; "but I don't think they did." + +"An' if they did, too, it's not high thrason, I hope." + +"No; but, Bartle, I'm obliged to you. You've acted as a friend to me, +an' I won't forget it to you." + +"An' I'm so much obliged to you, Connor, that I'll remimber your +employin' me in this the longest day I have to live. But, Connor?" + +"Well, Bartle." + +"I'd take the sacrament, that, after all, a ring you'll never put on +her." + +"And what makes you think so, Bartle?" + +"I don't--I do--(hiccup) don't know; but somehow something or another +tells it to me that you won't; others is fond of her, I suppose, as well +as yourself; and of coorse they'll stand betune you." + +"Ay, but I'm sure of her." + +"But you're not; wait till I see you man and wife, an' thin I'll say so. +Here's myself, Bartle, is in love, an' dhough I don't expect ever the +girl will or would marry me, be the crass of heaven, no other man will +have her. Now, how do you know but you may have some one like me--like +me, Connor, to stand against you?" + +"Bartle," said Connor, laughing, "your head's a little moidher'd; give +me your hand; whish! the devil take you, man! don't wring my fingers +off. Say your prayers, Bartle, an' go to sleep. I say agin I won't +forget your kindness to me this night." + +Flanagan had now deposited himself upon his straw bed, and, after having +tugged the bedclothes about him, said, in the relaxed, indolent voice of +a man about to sleep, + +"Good night, Connor; throth my head's a little soft to-night--good +night." + +"Good night, Bartle." + +"Connor?" + +"Well?" + +"Didn't I stand to you to-night? Very well--goo--(hiccup) good night." + +On Connor's return, a serious conclave was held upon the best mode of +procedure in a manner which presented difficulties that appeared to be +insurmountable. The father, seizing upon the advice transmitted by Una +herself, as that which he had already suggested, insisted that the most +judicious course was to propose for her openly, and without appearing to +feel that there was any inferiority on the part of Connor. + +"If they talk about wealth, Connor," said he, "say that you are my son, +an' that--that--no--no--I'm too poor for such a boast, but say that you +will be able to take good care of anything you get." + +At this moment the door, which Connor had not bolted, as his father +would have done, opened, and Bartle, wrapped in the treble folds of a +winnow--cloth, made a distant appearance. + +"Beg pardon, Connor; I forgot to say that Una's brother, the young +priest out o' Maynooth, will be at home from his uncle's, where it +appears he is at present; an' Miss Una would wish that the proposal 'ud +be made while he's at his father's. She says he'll stand her friend, +come or go what will. I forgot, begad, to mintion it before--so beg +pardon, an' wishes you all good--night!" + +This information tended to confirm them in the course recommended by +Fardorougha. It was accordingly resolved upon that he (Fardorougha) +himself should wait upon Bodagh Buie, and in the name of his son +formally propose for the hand of his daughter. + +To effect this, however, was a matter of no ordinary difficulty, as they +apprehended that the Bodagh and his wife would recoil with indignation +at the bare notion of even condescending to discuss a topic which, in +all probability, they would consider as an insult. Not, after all, that +there existed, according to the opinion of their neighbors, such a vast +disparity in the wealth of each; on the contrary, many were heard +to assert, that of the two Fardorougha had the heavier purse. His +character, however, was held in such abhorrence by all who knew him, and +he ranked, in point of personal respectability and style of living, +so far beneath the Bodagh, that we question if any ordinary occurrence +could be supposed to fall upon the people with greater amazement than +a marriage, or the report of a marriage, between any member of the two +families. The O'Donovans felt, however, that it was better to make +the experiment already agreed on, than longer to remain in a state of +uncertainty about it. Should it fail, the position of the lovers, though +perhaps rendered somewhat less secure, would be such as to suggest, as +far as they themselves were concerned, the necessity of a more prompt +and effectual course of action. Fardorougha expressed his intention of +opening the matter on the following day; but his wife, with a better +knowledge of female character, deemed it more judicious to defer it +until after the interview which was to take place between Connor and Una +on the succeeding Thursday. It might be better, for instance, to make +the proposal first to Mrs. O'Brien herself, or, on the other hand, to +the Bodagh; but touching that and other matters relating to what was +proposed to be done, Una's opinion and advice might be necessary. + +Little passed, therefore, worthy of note, during the intermediate time, +except a short conversation between Bartle and Connor on the following +day, as they returned to the field from dinner. + +"Bartle," said the other, "you wor a little soft last night; or rather a +good deal so." + +"Faith, no doubt o' that--but when a man meets an old acquaintance or +two, they don't like to refuse a thrate. I fell in wid three or four +boys--all friends o' mine, an' we had a sup on account o' what's +expected." + +As he uttered these words, he looked at Connor with an eye which seemed +to say--you are not in a certain secret with which I am acquainted. + +"Why," replied Connor, "what do you mane, Bartle? I thought you were +with your brother--at laste you tould me so." + +Flanagan started on hearing this. + +"Wid my brother," said he--"why, I--I--what else could I tell you? He +was along wid the boys when I met them." + +"Took a sup on account o' what's expected!--an' what's the manin'o' +that, Bartle?" + +"Why, what would it mane--but--but--your marriage?" + +"An' thunder an' fury?" exclaimed Connor, his eyes gleaming; "did you +go to betray trust, an' mintion Una's name an' mine, afther what I tould +you?" + +"Don't be foolish, Connor," replied Flanagan; "is it mad you'd have me +to be? I said there was something expected soon, that 'ud surprise them; +and when they axed me what it was--honor bright! I gave them a knowin' +wink, but said notion'. Eh! was that breakin' trust? Arrah, be me sowl, +Connor, you don't trate me well by the words you spoke this blessed +minute." + +"An' how does it come, Bartle, my boy, that you had one story last +night, an' another to-day?" + +"Faix, very aisily, bekase I forget what I sed last night--for sure +enough I was more cut than you thought--but didn't I keep it well in +before the ould couple?" + +"You did fairly enough; I grant that--but the moment you got into the +barn a blind man could see it." + +"Bekase I didn't care a button wanst I escaped from the eye of your +father; anyhow, bad luck to it for whiskey; I have a murdherin' big +heddick all day afther it." + +"It's a bad weed, Bartle, and the less a man has to do with it, the less +he'll be throubled afther wid a sore head or a sore conscience." + +"Connor, divil a one, but you're the moral of a good boy; I dunna a +fault you have but one." + +"Come, let us hear it." + +"I'll tell you some day, but not now, not now--but I will tell you--an' +I'll let you know the raison thin that I don't mintion it now; in the +mane time I'll sit down an take a smoke." + +"A smoke! why, I never knew you smoked." + +"Nor I, myself, till last night. This tindher--box I was made a present +of to light my pipe, when not near a coal. Begad, now that I think of +it, I suppose it was smokin' that knocked me up so much last night, an' +mide my head so sick to-day." + +"It helped it, I'll engage; if you will take my advice, it's a custom +you won't larn." + +"I have a good deal to throuble me, Connor; you know I have; an' what we +are brought down to now; I have more nor you'd believe to think of; as +much, any way, as'll make this box an' steel useful, I hope, when I'm +frettin'." + +Flanagan spoke truth, in assuring Connor that the apology given for +his intoxication on the preceding night had escaped his memory. It was +fortunate for him, indeed, that O'Donovan, like all candid and ingenuous +persons, was utterly devoid of suspicion, otherwise he might have +perceived, by the discrepancy in the two accounts, as well as by +Flanagan's confusion, that he was a person in whom it might not be +prudent to entrust much confidence. + + + + +PART III. + +The tryste between Connor and Una was held at the same place and hour as +before, and so rapid a progress had love made in each of their hearts, +that we question if the warmth of their interview, though tender and +innocent, would be apt to escape the censure of our stricter readers. +Both were depressed by the prospect that lay before them, for Connor +frankly assured her that he feared no earthly circumstances could ever +soften his father's heart so far as to be prevailed upon to establish +him in life. + +"What then can I do, my darling Una? If your father and mother won't +consent--as I fear they won't--am I to bring you into the miserable +cabin of a day laborer? for to this the son of a man so wealthy as my +father is, must sink. No, Una dear, I have sworn never to bring you to +poverty, and I will not." + +"Connor," she replied somewhat gravely, "I thought you had formed a +different opinion of me. You know but little of your own Una's heart, +if you think she wouldn't live with you in a cabin a thousand and a +thousand times sooner than she would live with any other in a palace. I +love you for your own sake, Connor; but it appears you don't think so." + +Woman can never bear to have her love undervalued, nor the moral dignity +of a passion which can sacrifice all worldly and selfish considerations +to its own purity and attachment, unappreciated. When she uttered the +last words, therefore, tears of bitter sorrow, mingled with offended +pride, came to her aid. She sobbed for some moments, and again went on +to reproach him with forming so unfair an estimate of her affection. + +"I repeat that I loved you for yourself only, Connor, and think of what +I would feel, if you refused to spend your life in a cottage with me. If +I thought you wished to marry me, not because I am Una O'Brien, but the +daughter of a wealthy man, my heart would break, and if I thought you +were not true--minded, and pure--hearted, and honorable, I would rather +be dead than united to you at all." + +"I love you so well, and so much, Una, that I doubt I'm not worthy of +you--and it's fear of seeing you brought down to daily labor that's +crushing and breaking my heart." + +"But, dear Connor--what is there done by any cottager's wife that I +don't do every day of my life? Do you think my mother lets me pass my +time in idleness, or that I myself could bear to be unemployed even if +she did; I can milk, make butter, spin, sew, wash, knit, and clean a +kitchen; why, you have no notion," she added, with a smile, "what a +clever cottager's wife I'd make!" + +"Oh, Una," said Connor, now melting into tenderness greater than he had +ever before felt; "Una dear, it's useless--it's useless--I can't, no, +I couldn't--and I will not live without you, even if we were to beg +together--but what is to be done?" + +"Now, while my brother John is at home, is the time to propose it to +my father and mother who look upon him with eyes of such affection and +delight that I am half inclined to think their consent may be gained." + +"Maybe, darling, his consent will be as hard to gain as their own." + +"Now," she replied, fondly, "only you're a hard--hearted thing that's +afraid to live in a cottage with me, I could tell you some good news--or +rather you doubt me--and fear that I wouldn't live in one with you." + +A kiss was the reply, after which he said-- + +"With you, my dear Una, now that you're satisfied, I would live and die +in a prison--with you, with you--in whatever state of life we may be +placed, with you, but without you--never, I could not--I could not----" + +"Well, we are young, you know, and neither of us proud--and I am not a +lazy girl--indeed, I am not; but you forget the good news." + +"I forget that, and everything else but yourself, darling, while I'm in +your company. O heavens! if you were once my own, and that we were never +to be separated!" + +"Well, but the good news!" + +"What is it, dear?" + +"I haye mentioned our affection to my brother, and he has promised to +assist us. He has heard of your character, and of your mother's, and +says that it's unjust to visit upon you----" + +She paused--"You know, my dear Connor, that you must not be offended +with anything I say." + +"I know, my sweet treasure, what you're going to say," replied Connor, +with a smile; "nobody need be delicate in saying that my father loves +the money, and knows how to put guinea to guinea; that's no secret. I +wish he loved it less, to be sure, but it cannot be helped; in the mean +time, _ma colleen dhas dhun_--O, how I love them words! God bless your +brother! he must have a kind heart, Una dear, and he must love you very +much when he promises to assist us." + +"He has, and will; but, Connor, why did you send such a disagreeable, +forward, and prying person, as your father's servant to bring me your +message? I do not like him--he almost stared me out of countenance." + +"Poor fellow," said Connor, "I feel a good dale for him, and I think +he's an honest, good--hearted boy, and besides, he's in love himself." + +"I know he, was always a starer, and I say again _I don't_ like him." + +"But, as the case stands, dear Una, I have no one else to trust to--at +all events, he's in our secret, and the best way, if he's not honest, +is to keep him in it; at laste, if we put him out of it now, he might be +talking to our disadvantage." + +"There's truth in that, and we must only trust him with as little of our +real secrets as possible; I cannot account for the strong prejudice +I feel against him, and have felt for the past two years. He always +dressed above his means, and once or twice attempted to speak to me." + +"Well, but I know he's in love with some one, for he told me so; poor +fellow, I'm bound, my dear Una, to show him any kindness in my power." + +After some further conversation, it was once more decided that +Fardorougha should, on the next day, see the Bodagh and his wife, in +order to ascertain whether their consent could be obtained to the union +of our young and anxious lovers. This step, as the reader knows, was +every way in accordance with Fardorougha's inclination. Connor +himself would have preferred his mother's advocacy to that of a person +possessing such a slender hold on their good-will as his other parent. +But upon consulting with her, she told him that the fact of the proposal +coming from Fardorougha might imply a disposition on his part to provide +for his son. At all events, she hoped that contradiction, the boast +of superior wealth, or some fortunate collision of mind and principle, +might strike a spark of generous feeling out of her husband's heart, +which nothing, she knew, under strong excitement, such as might arise +from the bitter pride of the O'Brien's, could possibly do. Besides, as +she had no favorable expectations from the interview, she thought it an +unnecessary and painful task to subject herself to the insults which she +apprehended from the Bodagh's wife, whose pride and importance towered +far and high over those of her consequential husband. + +This just and sensible view of the matter, on the part of the mother, +satisfied Connor, and reconciled him to the father's disinclination +to be accompanied by her to the scene of conflict; for, in truth, +Fardorougha protested against her assistance with a bitterness which +could not easily be accounted for. "If your mother goes, let her go by +herself," said he; "for I'll not interfere in't if she does. I'll take +the dirty Bodagh and his fat wife my own way, which I can't do if Honor +comes to be enibbin' and makin' little o' me afore them. Maybe I'll pull +down their pride for them better than you think, and in a way they're +not prepared for; them an' their janting car!" + +Neither Connor nor his mother could help being highly amused at the +singularity of the miserable pomp and parsimonious display resorted to +by Fardorougha, in preparing for this extraordinary mission. Out of an +old strongly locked chest he brought forth a gala coat, which had +been duly aired, but not thrice worn within the last twenty years. The +progress of time and fashion had left it so odd, outre, and ridiculous, +that Connor, though he laughed, could not help feeling depressed on +considering the appearance his father must make when dressed, or rather +disfigured, in it. Next came a pair of knee--breeches by the same hand, +and which, in compliance with the taste of the age that produced them, +were made to button so far down as the calf of the leg. Then appeared a +waistcoat, whose long pointed flaps reached nearly to the knees. Last of +all was produced a hat not more than three inches deep in the crown, and +brimmed so narrowly, that a spectator would almost imagine the leaf had +been cut off. Having pranked himself out in these habiliments, contrary +to the strongest expostulations of both wife and son, he took his +staff and set forth. But lest the reader should expect a more accurate +description of his person when dressed, we shall endeavor at all events +to present him with a loose outline. In the first place, his head was +surmounted with a hat that resembled a flat skillet, wanting the handle; +his coat, from which avarice and penury had caused him to shrink away, +would have fitted a man twice his size, and, as he had become much +stooped, its tail, which, at the best, had been preposterously long, now +nearly swept the ground. To look at him behind, in fact, he appeared all +body. The flaps of his waistcoat he had pinned up with his own hands, +by which piece of exquisite taste, he displayed a pair of thighs so thin +and disproportioned to his small--clothes, that he resembled a boy who +happens to wear the breeches of a full-grown man, so that to look at +him in front he appeared all legs. A pair of shoes, polished with burned +straw and buttermilk, and surmounted by two buckles, scoured away +to skeletons, completed his costume. In this garb he set out with a +crook-headed staff, into which long use, and the habit of griping +fast whatever he got in his hand, had actually worn the marks of his +forefinger and thumb. + +Bodagh Buie, his wife, and their two children, were very luckily +assembled in the parlor, when the nondescript figure of the deputy-wooer +made his appearance on that part of the neat road which terminated at +the gate of the little lawn that fronted the hall-door. Here there was +another gate to the right that opened into the farm or kitchen yard, +and as Fardorougha hesitated which to enter, the family within had an +opportunity of getting a clearer view of his features and person. + +"Who is that quare figure standing there?" inquired the Bodagh; "did you +ever see sich a----ah, thin, who can he be?" + +"Somebody comin', to see some of the sarvints, I suppose," replied his +wife; "why, thin, it's not unlike little Dick _Croaitha_, the fairyman." + +In sober truth, Fardorougha was so completely disguised by his dress, +especially by his hat, whose shallowness and want of brim, gave his face +and head so wild and eccentric an appearance, that we question if his +own family, had they not seen him dress, could I have recognized him! At +length he turned into the kitchen-yard, and, addressing a laborer whom +he met, asked-- + +"I say, nabor, which is the right way into Bodagh Buie's house?" + +"There's two right ways into it, an' you may take aither o' them--but if +you want any favor from him, you had better call him _Mr_. O'Brien. The +Bodagh's a name was first given to his father, an' he bein' a dacenter +man, doesn't like it, although it sticks to him; so there's a lift for +you, my hip striddled little codger." + +"But which is the right door o' the house?" + +"There it is, the kitchen--peg in--that's your intrance, barrin' you're +a gintleman in disguise, an' if be, why turn out again to that other +gate, strip off your shoes, and pass up ginteely on your tipytoes, and +give a thunderin' whack to the green ring that's hangin' from the door. +But see, friend," added the man, "maybe you'd do one a sarvice?" + +"How," said Fardorougha, looking earnestly at him; "what is it?" + +"Why, to lave us a lock o' your hair before you go," replied the wag, +with a grin. + +The miser took no notice whatsoever of this, but was turning quietly +out of the yard, to enter by the lawn, when the man called out in a +commanding voice-- + +"Back here, you codger!--tundher an' thump!--back I say! You won't be +let in that way--thramp back, you leprechaun, into the kitchen--eh! you +won't--well, well, take what you'll get--an' that'll be the way back +agin." + +'Twas at this moment that the keen eye of Una recognized the features of +her lover's father, and a smile, which she felt it impossible to subdue, +settled upon her face, which became immediately mantled with blushes. On +hurrying out of the room she plucked her brother's sleeve, who followed +her to the hall. + +"I can scarcely tell you, dear John," she said, speaking rapidly, "it's +Fardorougha O'Donovan, Connor's father; as you know his business, John, +stay in the parlor;" she squeezed his hand, and added with a smile on +her face, and a tear in her eye, "I fear it's all over with me--I +don't know whether to laugh or cry--but stay, John dear, an' fight my +battle--Una's battle." + +She ran upstairs, and immediately one of the most beggarly, sordid, and +pusillanimous knocks that ever spoke of starvation and misery was heard +at the door. + +"I will answer it myself," thought the amiable brother; "for if my +father or mother does, he surely will not be allowed in." + +John could scarcely preserve a grave face, when Fardorougha presented +himself. + +"Is Misther O'Brien widin?" inquired the usurer, shrewdly availing +himself of the hint he received from the servant. + +"My father is," replied John; "have the goodness to step in." + +Fardorougha entered immediately, followed by young O'Brien, who said, + +"Father, this is Mr. O'Donovan, who, it appears, has some important +business with the family." + +"Don't be mistherin' me," replied Fardorougha, helping himself to a +seat; "I'm too poor to be misthered." + +"With this family!" exclaimed the father in amazement; "what business +can Fardorougha Donovan have with this family, John?"' + +"About our children," replied the miser; "about my son and your +daughter." + +"An' what about them?" inquired Mrs. O'Brien; "do you dar to mintion +them in the same day together?" + +"Why not," said the miser; "ay, an' on the same night, too?" + +"Upon my reputaytion, Mr. O'Donovan, you're extramely kind--now be a +little more so, and let us undherstand you," said the Bodagh. + +"Poor Una!" thought John, "all's lost; he will get himself kicked out to +a certainty." + +"I think it's time we got them married," replied Fardorougha; "the +sooner it's done the better, and the safer for both o' them; especially +for the colleen." + +"_Dar a Lorha_, he's cracked," said Mrs. O'Brien; "sorra one o' the poor +soul but's cracked about his money." + +"Poor sowl, woman alive! wor you never poor yourself?" + +"Yis I wor; an' I'm not ashamed to own it; but, Chierna, Frank," she +added, addressing her husband, "there's no use in spakin' to him." + +"Fardorougha," said O'Brien, seriously, "what brought you here?" + +"Why, to tell you an' your wife the state that my son, Connor, and your +daughter's in about one another; an' to advise you both, if you have +sinse, to get them married afore worse happen. It's your business more +nor mine." + +"You're right," said the Bodagh, aside to his wife; "he's sartinly +deranged. Fardorougha," he added, "have you lost any money lately?" + +"I'm losin' every day," said the other; "I'm broke assistin' them that +won't thank me, let alone paying me as they ought." + +"Then you have lost nothing more than usual?" + +"If I didn't, I tell you there's a good chance of losin' it before +me;--can a man call any money of his safe that's in another man's +pocket?" + +"An' so you've come to propose a marriage between your son and my +daughter, yet you lost no money, an' you're not mad!" + +"Divil a morsel o' me is mad--but you'll be so if you refuse to let this +match go an." + +"Out wid him--_a shan roghara_," shouted Mrs. O'Brien, in a state of +most dignified offence; "_Damho orth_, you ould knave! is it the son of +a miser that has fleeced an' robbed the whole counthry side that we 'ud +let our daughther, that resaved the finish to her edication in a Dubling +boardin' school, marry wid?--_Vic na hoiah_ this day!" + +"You had no sich scruple yourself, ma'am," replied the bitter usurer, +"when you bounced at the son of the ould Bodagh Buie, an' every one +knows what he was." + +"He!" said the good woman; "an' is it runnin' up comparishments betuxt +yourself an' him you are afther? Why, Saint Peter wouldn't thrive on +your money, you nager." + +"Maybe Saint Pethur thruv on worse--but havn't you thruv as well on the +Bodagh's, as if it had been honestly come by? I defy you an' the world +both--to say that ever I tuck a penny from any one, more than my right. +Lay that to the mimory of the ould Bodagh, an' see if it'll fit. It's no +light guinea, any how." + +Had Fardorougha been a man of ordinary standing and character in the +country, from whom an insult could be taken, he would no doubt have +been by a very summary process expelled the parlor. The history of his +querulous and irascible temper, however, was so well known, and his +offensive eccentricity of manner a matter of such established fact, that +the father and son, on glancing at each other, were seized with the same +spirit, and both gave way to an uncontrollable fit of laughter. + +"Is it a laughin' stock you're makin' of' it?" said Mrs. O'Brien, highly +indignant. + +"Faith, achora, it may be no laughin' stock afther all," replied the +Bodagh. + +"I think, mother," observed John, "that you and my father had better +treat the matter with more seriousness. Connor O'Donovan is a young man +not to be despised by any person at all near his own class of life who +regards the peace and welfare of a daughter. His character stands very +high; indeed, in every way unimpeachable." + +The bitter scowl which had sat upon the small dark features of +Fardorougha, when replying to the last attack of Mrs. O'Brien, passed +away as John spoke. The old man turned hastily around, and, surveying +the eulogist of his son, said, + +"God bless you, asthore, for thim words! and they're thrue--thrue as the +gospel, arrah what are you both so proud of? I defy you to get the aquil +of my son in the barony of Lisnamona, either for face, figure or temper! +I say he's fit to be a husband for as good a gill as ever stood in your +daughter's shoes; an' from what I hear of her, she's as good a girl +as ever the Almighty put breath in. God bless you, young man, you're a +credit yourself to any parents." + +"An' we have nothin' to say aginst your son, nor aginst your wife +aither," replied the Bodagh; "an' if your own name was as clear----if +you wor looked upon as they are--tut, I'm spakin' nonsense! How do I +know whether ever your son and my daughter spoke a word to one another +or not?" + +"I'll go bail Oona never opened her lips to him," said her mother; "I'll +go bail she had more spirit." + +"An' I'll go bail she can't live widout him, an' will have him whether +you like it or not," said Fardorougha. + +"Mother," observed John, "will you and my father come into the next room +for a minute--I wish to say a word or two to each of you; and will you, +Fardorougha, have the goodness to sit here till we return?" + +"Divil a notion," replied O'Donovan, "I have of stirrin' my foot till +the thing's settled one way or other." + +"Now," said young O'Brien, when they got into the back parlor, "it's +right that you both should know to what length the courtship between Una +and Connor O'Donovan has gone." + +"Coortship! _Vich no hoiah!_ sure she wouldn't go to coort wid the son +o' that ould schamer." + +"I'm beginning to fear that it's too thrue," observed the Bodagh; "and +if she has--but let us hear John." + +"It's perfectly true, indeed, mother, that she has," said the son. "Yes, +and they are both this moment pledged, betrothed, promised, solemnly +promised to each other; and in my opinion the old man within is acting a +more honorable part than either of you give him credit for." + +"Well, well, well," exclaimed the mother; "who afther that would ever +thrust a daughter? The girl that we rared up as tindher as a chicking, +to go to throw herself away upon the son of ould Fardorougha Donovan, +the misert! Confusion to the ring ever he'll put an her! I'd see her +stretched (dead) first." + +"I agree with you in that, Bridget," said the husband; "if it was only +to punish her thrachery and desate, I'll take good care a ring will +never go on them; but how do you know all this, John?" + +"From Una's own lips, father." + +The Bodagh paced to and fro in much agitation; one hand in his +small--clothes pocket, and the other twirling his watch-key as rapidly +as he could. The mother, in the meantime, had thrown herself into a +chair, and gave way to a violent fit of grief. + +"And you have this from Una's own lips?" + +"Indeed, father, I have; and it is much to her credit that she was +candid enough to place such confidence in her brother." + +"Pledged and promised to one another. Bridget, who could believe this?" + +"Believe it! I don't believe it--it's only a schame of the hussy to get +him. Oh, thin, Queen of Heaven this day, but it's black news to us!" + +"John," said the father, "tell Una to come down to us." + +"Father, I doubt that's rather a trying task for her. I wish, you +wouldn't insist." + +"Go off, sir; she must come down immediately, I'll have it from her own +lips, too." + +Without another word of remonstrance the son went to bring her down. +When the brother and sister entered the room, O'Brien still paced the +floor. He stood, and, turning his eyes upon his daughter with severe +displeasure, was about to speak, but he appeared to have lost the power +of utterance; and, after one or two ineffectual attempts, the big tears +fairly rolled down his cheeks. + +"See, see," said the mother, "see what you have brought us to. Is it +thrue that you're promised to Fardorougha's son?" + +Una tottered over to a chair, and the blood left her cheeks; her lips +became dry, and she gasped for breath. + +"Why, don't you think it worth your while to answer me?" continued the +mother. + +The daughter gave a look of deep distress and supplication at her +brother; but when she perceived her father in tears, her head sank down +upon her bosom. + +"What! what! Una," exclaimed the Bodagh, "Una--" But ere he could +complete the question, the timid creature fell senseless upon the floor. + +For a long time she lay in that friendly trance, for such, in truth, it +was to a delicate being, subjected to an ordeal so painful as that she +was called upon to pass through. We have, indeed, remarked that there +is in the young, especially in those of the softer sex, a feeling of +terror, and shame, and confusion, when called upon by their parents to +disclose a forbidden passion, that renders its avowal perhaps the most +formidable task which the young heart can undergo. It is a fearful trial +for the youthful, and one which parents ought to conduct with surpassing +delicacy and tenderness, unless they wish to drive the ingenuous spirit +into the first steps of falsehood and deceit. + +"Father," said John, "I think you may rest satisfied with what you +witness; and I am sure it cannot make you or mother happy to see poor +Una miserable." + +Una, who had been during the greater part of her swoon supported in +her weeping and alarmed mother's arms, now opened her eyes, and, after +casting an affrighted look about the room, she hid her face in her +mother's bosom, and exclaimed, as distinctly as the violence of sobbing +grief would permit her: + +"Oh, mother dear, have pity on me! bring me up stairs and I will tell +you." + +"I do, I do pity you," said the mother, kissing her; "I know you'll be a +good girl yet, Oona." + +"Una," said her father, placing his hand gently on her shoulder, "was I +ever harsh to you, or did I--" + +"Father dear," she returned, interrupting him, "I would have told you +and my mother, but that I was afraid." + +There was something so utterly innocent and artless in this reply, that +each of the three persons present felt sensibly affected by its extreme +and childlike simplicity. + +"Don't be afraid of me, Una," continued the Bodagh, "but answer--me +truly, like a good girl, and I swear upon my reputation, that I won't be +angry. Do you love the son of this Fardorougha?" + +"Not, father, because he's Fardorougha's son," said Una, whose face was +still hid in her mother's bosom; "I would rather he wasn't." + +"But you do love him?" + +"For three years he has scarcely been out of my mind." + +Something that might be termed a smile crossed the countenance of the +Bodagh at this intimation. + +"God help you for a foolish child!" said he; "you're a poor counsellor +when left to defend your own cause." + +"She won't defend it by a falsehood, at all events," observed her +trustworthy and affectionate brother. + +"No, she wouldn't," said the mother; "and I did her wrong a while ago, +to say that she'd schame anything about it." + +"And are you and Connor O'Donovan promised to aich other?" inquired the +father again. + +"But it wasn't I that proposed the promise," returned Una. + +"Oh, the desperate villain," exclaimed her father, "to be guilty of +such a thing! but you took the promise Una--you did--you did--I needn't +ask." + +"No," replied Una. + +"No!" reechoed the father; "then you did not give the promise?" + +"I mean," she rejoined, "that you needn't ask." + +"Oh, faith, that alters the case extremely. Now, Una, this--all this +promising that has passed between you and Connor O'Donovan is all folly. +If you prove to be the good obedient girl that I hope you are, you'll +put him out of your head, and then you can give back to one another +whatever promises you made." + +This was succeeded by a silence of more than a minute. Una at length +arose, and, with a composed energy of manner, that was evident by her +sparkling eye and bloodless cheek, she approached her father, and calmly +kneeling down, said slowly but firmly: + +"Father, if nothing else can satisfy you, I will give back my promise; +but then, father, it will break my heart, for I know--I feel--how I love +him, and how I am loved by him." + +"I'll get you a better husband," replied her father--"far more wealthy +and more respectable than he is." + +"I'll give back the promise," said she; "but the man is not living, +except Connor O'Donovan, that will ever call me wife. More wealthy! more +respectable!--Oh, it was only himself I loved. Father, I'm on my knees +before you, and before my mother. I have only one request to make--Oh, +don't break your daughter's heart!" + +"God direct us," exclaimed her mother; "it's hard to know how to act. If +it would go so hard upon her, sure--" + +"Amen," said her husband; "may God direct us to the best! I'm sure God +knows," he continued, now much affected, "that I would rather break +my own heart than yours, Una. Get up, dear--rise. John, how would you +advise us?" + +"I don't see any serious objection, after all," replied the son, "either +you or my mother can have to Connor O'Donovan. He is every way worthy +of her, if he is equal to his character; and as for wealth, I have often +heard it said that his father was a richer man than yourself." + +"Afther all," said the mother, "she might be very well wid him." + +"I'll tell you what I'll do, then," said the Bodagh--"let us see the +ould man himself, and if he settles his son dacently in life, as he +can do if he wishes, why, I won't see the poor, foolish, innocent girl +breaking her heart." + +Una, who had sat with her face still averted, now ran to her father, +and, throwing her arms about his neck, wept aloud, but said nothing. + +"Ay, ay," said the latter, "it's very fine now that you have everything +your own way, you girsha; but, sure, you're all the daughter we have, +achora, and it would be too bad not to let you have a little of your +own opinion in the choice of a husband. Now go up stairs, or where you +please, till we see what can be done with Fardorougha himself." + +With smiling face and glistening eyes Una passed out of the room, +scarcely sensible whether she walked, ran, or flew, while the others +went to renew the discussion with Pardorougha. + +"Well," said the miser, "you found out, I suppose, that she can't do +widout him?" + +"Provided we consent to the marriage," asked the Bodagh, "how will you +settle your son in life?" + +"Who would I settle in life if I wouldn't settle my only son?" replied +the other; "who else is there to get all I have?" + +"That's very true," observed the Bodagh; "but state plainly what you'll +do for him on his marriage." + +"Do you consint to the marriage all of yees?" + +"That's not the question," said the other. "Divil a word I'll answer +till I know whither yees do or not," said Fardorougha. "Say at once that +you consint, and then I'll spake--I'll say what I'll do." + +The Bodagh looked inquiringly at his wife and son. The latter nodded +affirmatively. "We do consent," he added. + +"That shows your own sinse," said the old man. "Now what fortune will +you portion your colleen wid?" + +"That depinds upon what you'll do for your son," returned the Bodagh. + +"And that depinds upon what you'll do for your daughter," replied the +sagacious old miser. + +"At this rate we're not likely to agree." + +"Nothin's asier; you have only to spake out; besides it's your business, +bein' the colleen's father." + +"Try him, and name something fair," whispered John. + +"If I give her a farm of thirty acres of good land, stocked and all, +what will you do for Connor?" + +"More than that, five times over; I'll give him all I have. An' now when +will we marry them? Throth it was best to make things clear," added the +knave, "and undherstand one another at wanst. When will we marry them?" + +"Not till you say out openly and fairly the exact amount of money you'll +lay down on the nail--an' that before even a ring goes upon them." + +"Give it up, acushla," said the wife, "you see there's no screwin' a +promise out of him, let alone a penny." + +"What 'ud yees have me do?" said the old man, raising his voice. "Won't +he have all I'm worth? Who else is to have it? Am I to make a beggar of +myself to please you? Can't they live on your farm till I die, an' thin +it'll all come to them?" + +"An' no thanks to you for that, Fardorougha," said the Bodagh. "No, no; +I'll never buy a pig in a poke. If you won't act generously by your son, +go home, in the name of goodness, and let us hear no more about it." + +"Why, why?" asked the miser, "are yees mad to miss what I can leave him? +If you knew how much it is, you'd snap--; but God help me! what am I +sayin'? I'm poorer than anybody thinks. I am--I am; an' will starve +among you all, if God hasn't sed it. Do you think I don't love my son as +well, an' a thousand times better, than you do your daughter? God alone +sees how my heart's in him--in my own Connor, that never gave me a sore +heart--my brave, my beautiful boy!" + +He paused, and the scalding tears here ran down his shrunk and furrowed +cheeks, whilst he wrung his hands, started to his feet, and looked +about him like a man encompassed by dangers that threatened instant +destruction. + +"If you love your son so well," said John, mildly, "why do you grudge to +share your wealth with him? It is but natural and it is your duty." + +"Natural! what's natural?--to give away--is it to love him you mane? It +is, it's unnatural to give it away. He's the best son--the best--what do +you mane, I say?--let me alone--let me alone--I could give him my blood, +my blood--to sich a boy; but, you want to kill me--you want to kill me, +an' thin you'll get all; but he'll cross you, never fear--my boy will +save me--he's not tired of me--he'd give up fifty girls sooner than +see a hair of his father's head injured--so do your best, while I have +Connor, I'm not afraid of yees. Thanks be to God that sent him!" he +exclaimed, dropping suddenly on his knees--"oh, thanks be to God that +sent him to comfort an' protect his father from the schames and villainy +of them that 'ud bring him to starvation for their own ends!" + +"Father," said John, in a low tone, "this struggle between avarice and +natural affection is awful. See how his small gray eyes glare, and the +froth rises white to his thin shrivelled lips. What is to be done?" + +"Fardorougha," said the Bodagh, "it's over; don't distress +yourself--keep your money--there will be no match between our childhre." + +"Why? why won't there?" he screamed--"why won't there, I say? Havn't +you enough for them until I die? Would you see your child breakin' her +heart? Bodagh, you have no nather in you--no bowels for your _colleen +dahs_. But I'll spake for her--I'll argue wid you till this time +to-morrow, or I'll make you show feelin' to her--an' if you don't--if +you don't--" + +"Wid the help o' God, the man's as mad as a March hare," observed Mrs. +O'Brien, "and there's no use in losin' breath wid him." + +"If it's not insanity," said John, "I know not what it is." + +"Young man," proceeded Fardorougha, who evidently paid no attention to +what the mother and son said, being merely struck by the voice of the +latter, "young man, you're kind, you have sinse and feelin'--spake to +your father--don't let him destroy his child--don't ax him to starve +me, that never did him harm. He loves you--he loves you, for he can't +but love you--sure, I know how I love my own darlin' boy. Oh, spake to +him--here I go down on my knees to you, to beg, as you hope to see God +in heaven, that't you'll make him not break his daughter's heart! She's +your own sister--there's but the two of yees, an' oh, don't desart her +in this throuble--this heavy, heavy throuble!" + +"I won't interfere farther in it," replied the young man, who, however, +felt disturbed and anxious in the extreme. + +"Mrs. O'Brien," said he, turning imploringly, and with a wild, haggard +look to the Bodngh's wifs, "I'm turnin' to you--you're her mother--Oh +think, think"-- + +"I'll think no more about it," she replied. "You're mad, an' thank God, +we know it. Of coorse it'll run in the family, for which reasing my +daughter 'ill never be joined to the son of a madman." + +He then turned as a last resource to O'Brien himself. "Bodagh, Bodagh, I +say," here his voice rose to a frightful pitch, "I enthrate, I order, I +command you to listen to me! Marry them--don't kill your daughter, an' +don't, don't, dare to kill my son. If you do I'll curse you till +the marks of your feet will scorch the ground you tread on. Oh," he +exclaimed, his voice now sinking, and his reason awaking apparently from +exhaustion, "what is come over me? what am I sayin'?--but it's all for +my son, my son." He then rose, sat down, and for more than tweny minutes +wept like an infant, and sobbed and sighed as if his heart would break. + +A feeling very difficult to be described hushed his amazed auditory into +silence; they felt something like pity towards the unfortunate old man, +as well as respect for that affection which struggled with such moral +heroism against the frightful vice that attempted to subdue this last +surviving virtue in the breast of the miser. + +On his getting calm, they spoke to him kindly, but in firm and friendly +terms communicated their ultimate determination, that, in consequence +of his declining to make an adequate provision for the son, the marriage +could by no means take place. He then got his hat, and attempted to +reach the road which led down to the little lawn, but so complete was +his abstraction, and so exhausted his faculties, that it was not without +John's assistance he could reach the gate which lay before his eyes. +He first turned out of the walk to the right, then crossed over to the +left, and felt surprised that a wall opposed him in each direction. + +"You are too much disturbed," said John, "to perceive the way, but I +will show you." + +"I suppose I thought it was at home I was," he replied, "bekase at my +own house one must turn aither to the right or to the left, as, indeed, +I'm in the custom of doin'." + +Whilst Fardorougha was engaged upon his ill-managed mission, his wife, +who felt that all human efforts at turning the heart of her husband from +his wealth must fail, resolved to have recourse to a higher power. With +this purpose in view, she put on her Sunday dress, and informed Connor +that she was about to go for a short time from home. + +"I'll be back if I can," she added, "before your father; and, indeed, +it's as good not to let him know anything about it." + +"About what, mother? for I know as little about it as he does." + +"Why, my dear boy, I'm goin' to get a couple o' masses sed, for God +to turn his heart from that cursed _airaghid_ it's fixed upon. Sure it +houlds sich a hard grip of his poor sowl, that it'll be the destruction +of him here an' hereafther. It'll kill him afore his time, an' then I +thrimble to think of his chance above." + +"The object is a good one, sure enough, an' it bein' for a spiritual +purpose the priest won't object to it." + +"Why would he, dear, an' it for the good of his sowl? Sure, when Pat +Lanigan was jealous, his wife got three masses sed for him; and, wid the +help o' God, he was cured sound and clane." + +Connor could not help smiling at this extraordinary cure for jealousy, +nor at the simple piety of a heart, the strength of whose affection he +knew so well. After her return she informed the son, that, in addition +to the masses to be said against his father's avarice, she had some +notion of getting another said towards his marriage with Una. + +"God help you, mother," said Connor, laughing; "for I think you're one +of the innocentest women that ever lived; but whisht!" he added, "here's +my father--God grant that he may bring good news!" + +When Fardorougha entered he was paler or rather sallower than usual; +and, on his thin, puckered face, the lines that marked it were exhibited +with a distinctness greater than ordinary. His eyes appeared to have +sunk back more deeply into his head; his cheeks had fallen farther into +his jaws; his eyes were gleamy and disturbed; and his Whole appearance +bespoke trouble and care and the traces of a strong and recent struggle +within him. + +"Father," said Connor, with a beating heart, "for Heaven's sake, what +news--what tidings? I trust in God it's good." + +"They have no bowels, Connor--they have no bowels, thim O'Briens." + +"Then you didn't succeed." + +"The father's as great a bodagh as him he was called after--they're a +bad pack--an' you mustn't think of any one belongin'to them." + +"But tell us, man dear," said the wife, "what passed--let us know it +all." + +"Why, they would do nothin'--they wouldn't hear of it. I went on my +knees to them--ay, to every one of them, barrin' the colleen herself; +but it was all no use--it's to be no match." + +"And why, father, did you go on your knees to any of them," said Connor; +"I'm sorry you did that." + +"I did it on your account, Connor, an' I'd do it again on your account, +poor boy." + +"Well, well, it can't be helped." + +"But tell me, Fardorougha," inquired Honor, "was any of the fault your +own--what did you offer to do for Connor?" + +"Let me alone," said he, peevishly; "I won't be cross-questioned about +it. My heart's broke among you all--what did I offer to do for Connor? +The match is knocked up, I tell you--and it must be knocked up. Connor's +young, an' it'll be time enough for him to marry this seven years to +come." + +As he said this, the fire of avarice blazed in his eyes, and he looked +angrily at Honor, then at the son; but, while contemplating the latter, +his countenance changed from anger to sorrow, and from sorrow to a mild +and serene expression of affection. + +"Connor, avick," said he, "Connor, sure you'll not blame me in this +business? sure you won't blame your poor, heart--broken father, let thim +say what they will, sure you won't, avilish?" + +"Don't fret on my account, father," said the sonj "why should I blame +you? God knows you're strivin' to do what you would wish for me." + +"No, Honor, I know he wouldn't; no," he shouted, leaping up, "he +wouldn't make a saicrefize o' me! Connor, save me, save me," he +shrieked, throwing his arms about his neck; "save me; my heart's +breakin'--somethin's tearin' me different ways inside; I can cry, you +see; I can cry, but I'm still as hard as a stone; it's terrible this +I'm sufferin'--terrible all out for a weak ould man like me. Oh, Connor, +avick, what will I do? Honor, achora, what 'ill become o' me--ainn't I +strugglin', strugglin' against it, whatever it is; don't yees pity me? +Don't ye, avick machree, don't ye, Honor? Oh, don't yees pity me?" + +"God pity you!" said the wife, bursting into tears; "what will become of +you? Pray to God, Fardorougha, pray to Him. No one alive can change your +heart but God. I wint to the priest to-day, to get two masses said to +turn your heart from that cursed money. I didn't intind to tell you, but +I do, bekase it's your duty to pray now above all times, an' to back the +priest as well as you can." + +"It's the best advice, father, you could get," said the son, as he +helped the trembling old man to his seat. + +"An' who bid you thin to go to lavish money that way?" said he, turning +snappishly to Honor, and relapsing again into the peevish spirit of +avarice; "Saver o' Heaven, but you'll kill me, woman, afore you have +done wid me! How can I stand it, to have my hard--earned----an' for +what? to turn my heart from money? I don't want to be turned from it--I +don't wish it! Money!--I have no money--nothin'--nothin'--an' if there's +not better decreed for me, I'll be starved yet--an' is it any wondh'er? +to be robbin' me the way you're doin'!" + +His wife clasped her hands and looked up towards heaven in silence, and +Connor, shaking his head despairingly, passed out to join Flanagan at +his labor, with whom he had not spoken that day. Briefly, and with +a heavy heart, he communicated to him the unsuccessful issue of his +father's interference, and asked his opinion as to how he should +conduct himself under circumstances so disastrous to his happiness and +prospects. Bartle advised him to seek another interview with Una, and, +for that purpose, offered, as before, to ascertain, in the course of +that evening, at what time and place she would see him. This suggestion, +in itself so natural, was adopted, and as Connor felt, with a peculiar +acuteness, the pain of the situation in which he was! placed, he +manifested little tendency to conversation, and the evening consequently +passed heavily and in silence. + +Dusk, however, arrived, and Bartle prepared himself to execute the +somewhat difficult commission he had so obligingly undertaken. He +appeared, however, to have caught a portion of Connor's despondency, +for, when about to set out, he said "that he felt his spirits sunk and +melancholy; just," he added, "as if some misfortune, Connor, was afore +aither or both of us; for my part I'd stake my life that things will go +ashanghran one way or other, an' that you'll never call Una O'Brien your +wife." + +"Bartle," replied the other, "I only want you to do my message, an' not +be prophesyin' ill--bad news comes to soon, without your tellin' us of +it aforehand. God knows, Bartle dear, I'm distressed enough as it is, +and want my spirits to be kept up rather than put down." + +"No, Connor, but you want somethin' to divart your mind off this +business altogether, for a while; an' upon my saunies it 'ud be a +charity for some friend to give you a fresh piece of fun to think of--so +keep up your heart, how do you know but I may do that much for you +myself? But I want you to lend me the loan of a pair of shoes; divil +a tatther of these will be together soon, barrin' I get them mended in +time; you can't begrudge that, any how, an' me wearin' them on your own +business." + +"Nonsense, man--to be sure I will; stop an' I'll bring them out to you +in half a shake." + +He accordingly produced a pair of shoes, nearly new, and told Bartle +that if he had no objection to accept of them as a present, he might +consider them as his own. + +This conversation took place in Fardorougha's barn, where Flanagan +always slept, and kept his small deal trunk. + +He paused a moment when this good--natured offer was made to him; but +as it was dark no particular expression could be discovered on his +countenance, + +"No!" said he vehemently; "may I go to perdition if I +ought!--Connor--Connor O' Donovan--you'd turn the div--" + +"Halt, Bartle, don't be angry--whin I offered them, I didn't mane to +give you the slightest offence; it's enough for you to tell me you won't +have them without gettin' into a passion." + +"Have what? what are you spakin' about?" + +"Why--about the shoes; what else?" + +"Yes, faith, sure enough--well, ay, the shoes!--don't think of it, +Connor--I'm hasty; too much so, indeed, an' that's my fault. I'm like +all good-natured people in that respect; however, I'll borry them for a +day or two, till I get my own patched up some way. But, death alive, why +did you get at this season o' the year three rows of sparables in the +soles o' them?" + +"Bekase they last longer, of coorse; and now, Bartle, be off, and don't +let the grass grow under your feet till I see you again." + +Connor's patience, or rather his impatience, that night, was severely +taxed. Hour after hour elapsed, and yet Bartle did not return. At length +he went to his father's sleeping-room, and informed him of the message +he had sent through Flanagan to Una. + +"I will sleep in the barn to-night, father," he added; "an' never fear, +let us talk as we may, but we'll be up early enough in the morning, +plase God. I couldn't sleep, or go to sleep, till I hear what news he +brings back to us; so do you rise and secure the door, an' I'll make my +shakedown wid Bartle this night." + +The father who never refused him anything unpecuniary (if we may be +allowed the word), did as the son requested him, and again went to bed, +unconscious of the thundercloud which was so soon to burst upon them +both. + +Bartle, however, at length returned, and Connor had the satisfaction +of hearing that his faithful Una would meet him the next night, if +possible, at the hour of twelve o'clock, in her father's haggard. Her +parents, it appeared, had laid an injunction upon her never to see him +again; she was watched, too, and, unless when the household were +asleep, she found it altogether impracticable to effect any appointment +whatsoever with her lover. She could not even promise with certainty to +meet him on that night, but she desired him to come, and if she failed +to be punctual, not to leave the place of appointment for an hour. After +that, if she appeared not, then he was to wait no longer. Such was the +purport of the message which Flanagan delivered him. + +Flanagan was the first up the next morning, for the purpose of keeping +an appointment which he had with Biddy Neil, whom we have already +introduced to the reader. On being taxed with meanness by this weak but +honest creature, for having sought service with the man who had ruined +his family, he promised to acquaint her with the true motive which had +induced him to enter into Fardorougha's employment. Their conversation +on this point, however, was merely a love scene, in which Bartle +satisfied the credulous girl, that to an attachment for herself of +some months' standing, might be ascribed his humiliation in becoming a +servant to the oppressor and destroyer of his house. He then passed from +themselves and their prospects to Connor and Una O'Brien, with whose +attachment for each other, as the reader knows, he was first made +acquainted by his fellow-servant. + +"It's terrible, Biddy," said he, "to think of the black and revengeful +heart that Connor bears to Bodagh Buie and his family merely bekase they +rufuse to let him marry Una. I'm afeard, Biddy darlin', that there'll +be dark work about it on Connor's side; an' if you hear of anything bad +happenin' to the Bodagh, you'll know where it comes from." + +"I don't b'lieve it, Bartle, nor I won't b'lieve it--not, any way, till +I hear that it happens. But what is it he intends to do to them?" + +"That's more than I know myself," replied Bartle; "I axed as much, an' +he said till it was done nobody would be the wiser." + +"That's quare," said the girl, "for a better heart than Connor has, the +Saver o' the world never made." + +"You think so, agra, but wait; do you watch, and you'll find that he +don't come in to-night. I know nothin' myself of what he's about, for +he's as close as his father's purse, an' as deep as a draw--well; but +this I know, that he has black business on his hands, whatever it is. I +trimble to think of it!" + +Flanagan then got tender, and, after pressing his suit with all the +eloquence he was master of, they separated, he to his labor in the +fields, and she to her domestic employment, and the unusual task of +watching the motions of her master's son. + +Flanagan, in the course of the day, suggested to Connor the convenience +of sleeping that night also in the barn. The time of meeting, he said +was too late, and his father's family, who were early in their hours, +both night and morning, would be asleep even before they set out. He +also added, that lest any of the O'Briens or their retainers should +surprise him and Una, he had made up his mind to accompany him, and act +as a vidette during their interview. + +Connor felt this devotion of Bartle to his dearest interests, as every +grateful and generous heart would. + +"Bartle," said he, "when we are married, if it's ever in my power to +make you aisy in life, may I never prosper if I don't do it! At all +events, in some way I'll reward you." + +"If you're ever able, Connor, I'll have no objection to be behoulden to +you; that is, if you're ever able, as you say." + +"And if there's a just God in heaven, Bartle, who sees my heart, however +things may go against me for a time, I say I will be able to sarve +you, or any other friend that desarves it. But about sleepin' in +to-night--coorse I wouldn't be knockin' up my father, and disturbin' my +poor mother for no rason; so, of coorse, as I said, I'll sleep in the +barn; it makes no difference one way or other." + +"Connor," said Flanagan, with much solemnity, "if Bodagh Buie's wise, +he'll marry you and his daughter as fast as he can." + +"An' why, Bartle?" + +"Why, for rasons you know nothin' about. Of late he's got very much out +o' favor, in regard of not comin' in to what people wish." + +"Speak plainer, Bartle; I'm in the dark now." + +"There's work goin' on in the counthry, that you and every one like you +ought to be up to; but you know nothin', as I said, about it. Now Bodagh +Buie, as far as I hear--for I'm in the dark myself nearly as much as +you--Bodagh Buie houlds out against them; an' not only that, I'm tould, +but gives them hard words, an' sets them at defiance." + +"But what has all this to do with me marrying his daughter?" + +"Why, he wants some one badly to stand his friend wid them; an' if +you were married to her, you should on his account become one o' thim; +begad, as it is, you ought, for to tell the truth there's talk--strong +talk too--about payin' him a nightly visit that mayn't sarve him." + +"Then, Bartle, you're consarned in this business." + +"No, faith, not yet; but I suppose I must, if I wish to be safe in the +counthry; an' so must you too, for the same rason." + +"And, if not up, how do you know so much about it?" + +"From one o' themselves, that wishes the! Bodagh well; ay, an' let me +tell you, he's a marked man, an' the night was appointed to visit him; +still it was put back to thry if he could be managed, but he couldn't; +an' all I know about it is that the time to remimber him is settled, an' +he's to get it, an', along wid other things, he'll be ped for turnin' +off--however, I can't say any more about that." + +"How long is it since you knew this?" + +"Not long--only since last night, or you'd a got it before this. The +best way, I think, to put him on his guard 'ud be to send him a scrape +of a line wid no name to it." + +"Bartle," replied Connor, "I'm as much behoulden to you for this, as if +it had been myself or my father that was marked. God knows you have +a good heart, an' if you don't sleep sound, I'm at a loss to know who +ought." + +"But it's hard to tell who has a good heart, Connor; I'd never say any +one has till I'd seen them well thried." + +At length the hour for setting out arrived, and both, armed with good +oaken cudgels proceeded to Bodagh Buie's haggard, whither they arrived +a little before the appointed hour. An utter stillness prevailed around +the place--not a dog barked--not a breeze blew, nor did a leaf move on +its stem, so calm and warm was the night. Neither moon nor stars shone +in the firmament, and the darkness seemed kindly to throw its dusky +mantle over this sweet and stolen interview of our young lovers. As +yet, however, Una had not come, nor could Connor, on surveying the large +massy farm--house of the Bodagh, perceive any appearance of light, or +hear a single sound, however faint, to break the stillness in which it +slept. Bartle, immediately after their arrival in the haggard, separated +from his companion, in order, he said, to give notice of interruption, +should Una be either watched or followed. + +"Besides, you know," he added, "sweethearts like nobody to be present +but themselves, when they do be spakin' soft to one another. So I'll +just keep dodgin' about, from place to place wid my eye an' ear both +open, an' if any intherloper comes I'll give yees the hard word." + +Heavily and lazily creep those moments during which an impatient +lover awaits the approach of his mistress; and woe betide the wooer of +impetuous temperament who is doomed, like our hero, to watch a whole +hour and a half in vain. Many a theory did his fancy body forth, and +many a conjecture did he form, as to the probable cause of her absence. +Was it possible that they watched her even in the dead hour of night? +Perhaps the grief she felt at her father's refusal to sanction the match +had brought on indisposition; and--oh, harrowing thought!--perhaps +they had succeeded in prevailing upon her to renounce him and his hopes +forever. But no; their affection was too pure and steadfast to admit of +a supposition so utterly unreasonable. What, then, could have prevented +her from keeping an appointment so essential to their future prospects, +and to the operations necessary for them to pursue? Some plan of +intercourse--some settled mode of communication must be concerted +between them; a fact as well known to herself as to him. + +"Well, well," thought he, "whatever's the reason of her not coming, I'm +sure the fault is not hers; as it is, there's no use in waitin' this +night any longer." + +Flanagan, it appeared, was of the same opinion, for in a minute or two +he made his appearance, and urged their return home. It was clear, he +said, that no interview could take place that night, and the sooner they +reached the barn and got to bed the better. + +"Folly me," he added; "we can pass through the yard, cross the road +before the hall-door, and get over the stile, by the near way through +the fields that's behind the orchard." + +Connor, who was by no means so well acquainted with the path as his +companion, followed him in the way pointed out, and in a few minutes +they found themselves walking at a brisk pace in a direction that led +homewards by a shorter cut. Connor's mind was too much depressed for +conversation, and both were proceeding in silence, when Flanagan started +in alarm, and pointed out the figure of some one walking directly +towards them. In less than a minute the person, whoever he might be, +had come within speaking distance, and, as he shouted "Who comes there?" +Flanagan bolted across the ditch, along which they had been going, and +disappeared. "A friend," returned Connor, in reply to the question. + +The other man advanced, and, with a look of deep scrutiny, peered into +his face. "A friend," he exclaimed; "faith, it's, a quare hour for a +friend to be out. Who are you, eh? Is this Connor O'Donovan?" + +"It is; but you have the advantage of me." + +"If your father was here he would know Phil Curtis, any way.'' + +"I ought to 'a known the voice myself," said Connor; "Phil, how are you? +an' what's bringin' yourself out at this hour?" + +"Why, I want to buy a couple o' milk cows in the fair o' Kilturbit, +an' I'm goin' to catch my horse, an' make ready. It's a stiff ride from +this, an' by the time I'm there it I'll be late enough for business, I'm +thinkin'. There was some one wid you; who was it?" + +"Come, come," said Connor, good--humoredly, "he was out coortin', and +doesn't wish to be known; and Phil, as you had the luck to meet me, I +beg you, for Heaven's sake, not to breathe that you seen me near Bodagh +Buie's to-night; I have various reasons for it." + +"It's no secret to me as it is," replied Curtis; "half the parish knows +it; so make your mind asy on that head. Good night, Connor! I wish you +success, anyhow; you'll be a happy man if you get her; although, from +what I hear has happened, you have a bad chance, except herself stands +to you." + +The truth was, that Fardorougha's visit to the Bodagh, thanks to the +high tones of his own shrill voice, had drawn female curiosity, already +suspicious of the circumstances, to the keyhole of the parlor-door, +where the issue and object of the conference soon became known. In +a short time it had gone among the servants, and from them was +transmitted, in the course of that and the following day, to the tenants +and day-laborers! who contrived to multiply it with such effect, that, +as Curtis said, it was indeed no secret to the greater part of the +parish. + +Flanagan soon rejoined Connor, who, on taxing him with his flight, was +informed, with an appearance of much regret, that a debt of old standing +due to Curtis had occasioned it. + +"And upon my saunies, Connor, I'd rather any time go up to my neck in +wather than meet a man that I owe money to, whin I can't pay him. I knew +Phil very well, even before he spoke, and that was what made me cut an' +run." + +"What!" said Connor, looking towards the east, "can it be day-light so +soon?" + +"Begad, it surely cannot," replied his companion. + +"Holy mother above us, what is this?" + +Both involuntarily stood to contemplate the strange phenomenon which +presented itself to their observation; and, as it was certainly both +novel and startling in its appearance, we shall pause a little to +describe it more minutely. + +The night, as we have already said, was remarkably dark, and warm to an +unusual degree. To the astonishment, however, of our two travellers, +a gleam of light, extremely faint, and somewhat resembling that which +precedes the rising of a summer sun, broke upon their path, and passed +on in undulating sweeps for a considerable space before them. Connor had +scarcely time to utter the exclamation just alluded to, and Flanagan to +reply to him, when the light around them shot farther into the distance +and deepened from its first pale hue into a rich and gorgeous purple. +Its effect, however, was limited within a circle of about a mile, for +they could observe that it got faint gradually, from the centre to the +extreme verge, where it melted into utter darkness. + +"They must mean something extraordinary," said Connor; "whatever it is, +it appears to be behind the hill that divides us from Bodagh's Buie's +house. Blessed earth! it looks as if the sky was on fire!" + +The sky, indeed, presented a fearful but sublime spectacle. One spot +appeared to glow with the red-white heat of a furnace, and to form the +centre of a fiery cupola, from which the flame was flung in redder and +grosser masses, that darkened away into wild and dusky indistinctness, +in a manner that corresponded with the same light, as it danced in red +and frightful mirth upon the earth. As they looked, the cause of this +awful phenomenon soon became visible. From behind the hill was seen +a thick shower of burning particles rushing up into the mid air, +and presently the broad point of a huge pyramid of fire, wavering in +terrible and capricious power, seemed to disport itself far up in the +very depths of the glowing sky. On looking again upon the earth they +perceived that this terrible circle was extending itself over a wider +circumference of country, marking every prominent object around them +with a dark blood--red tinge, and throwing those that were more remote +into a visionary but appalling relief. + +"_Dhar Chriestha_," exclaimed Flanagan, "I have it; thim I spoke about +has paid Bodagh Buie the visit they promised him." + +"Come round the hip o' the hill," said Connor, "till we see where it +really is; but I'll tell you what, Bartle, if you be right, woe betide +you! all the water in Europe wouldn't wash you free in my mind, of being +connected in this same Ribbon business that's spreading through the +country. As sure as that sky--that fearful sky's above us, you must +prove to me and other's how you came to know that this hellish business +was to take place. God of heaven! let us run--surely it couldn't be the +dwelling-house!" + +His speed was so great that Bartle could find neither breath nor leisure +to make any reply. + +"Thank God!" he exclaimed; "oh, thank God it's not the house, and there +lives are safe! but blessed Father, there's the man's whole haggard in +flames!" + +"Oh, the netarnal villains!" was the simple exclamation of Flanagan. + +"Bartle," said his companion, "you heard what I said this minute?" + +Their eyes met as he spoke, and for the first time O'Donovan was struck +by the pallid malignity of his features. The servant gazed steadily upon +him, his lips slightly but firmly drawn back, and his eye, in which +was neither sympathy nor alarm, charged with the spirit of a cool and +devilish triumph. + +Connor's blazed at the bare idea of his villainy, and, in a fit of manly +and indignant rage, he seized Flanagan and hurled him headlong to +the earth at his feet. "You have hell in your face, you villain!" he +exclaimed; "and if I thought that--if I did--I'd drag you down like a +dog, an' pitch you head--foremost into the flames!" + +Bartle rose, and, in a voice wonderfully calm, simply observed, "God +knows, Connor, if I know either your heart or mine, you'll be sorry for +this treatment you've given me for no rason. You know yourself that, as +soon as I heard anything of the ill-will against the Bodagh, I tould it +to you, in ordher--mark that--in ordher that you might let him know it +the best way you thought proper; an' for that you've knocked me down!" + +"Why, I believe you may be right, Bartle--there's truth in that--but I +can't forgive you the look you gave me." + +"That red light was in my face, maybe; I'm sure if that wasn't it, I +can't tell--I was myself wonderin' at your own looks, the same way; but +then it was that quare light that was in your face." + +"Well, well, maybe I'm wrong--I hope I am. Do you think we could be of +any use there?" + +"Of use! an' how would we account for being there at all, Connor? +how would you do it, at any rate, widout maybe bringin' the girl into +blame?" + +"You're right agin, Bartle; I'm not half so cool as you are; our best +plan is to go home--" + +"And go to bed; it is; an' the sooner we're there the better; sowl, +Connor, you gev me a murdherin' crash." + +"Think no more of it--think no more of it--I'm not often hasty, so you +must overlook it." + +It was, however, with an anxious and distressed heart that Connor +O'Donovan reached his father's barn, where, in the same bed with +Flanagan, he enjoyed, towards morning, a brief and broken slumber that +brought back to his fancy images of blood and fire, all so confusedly +mingled with Una, himself, and their parents, that the voice of his +father calling upon them to rise, came to him as a welcome and manifest +relief. + +At the time laid in this story, neither burnings nor murders were +so familiar nor patriotic, as the fancied necessity of working out +political progress has recently made them. Such atrocities, in these bad +and unreformed days, were certainly looked upon as criminal, rather than +meritorious, however unpatriotic it may have been to form so erroneous +an estimate of human villainy. The consequence of all this was, that +the destruction of Bodagh Buie's property created a sensation in +the country, of which, familiarized as we are to such crimes, we can +entertain but a very faint notion. In three days a reward of five +hundred pounds, exclusive of two hundred from government, was offered +for such information as might bring the incendiary, or incendiaries, to +justice. The Bodagh and his family were stunned as much with amazement +at the occurrence of a calamity so incomprehensible to them, as with +the loss they had sustained, for that indeed was heavy. The man was +extremely popular, and by many acts of kindness had won the attachment +and goodwill of all who knew him, either personally or by character. +How, then, account for an act so wanton and vindictive? They could not +understand it; it was not only a--crime, but a crime connected with some +mysterious motive, beyond their power to detect. + +But of all who became acquainted with the outrage, not one sympathized +more sincerely and deeply with O'Brien's family than did Connor +O'Donovan; although, of course, that sympathy was unknown to those for +whom it was felt. The fact was, that his own happiness became, in some +degree, involved in their calamity; and, as he came in to breakfast on +the fourth morning of its occurrence, he could not help observing as +much to his mother. His suspicions of Flanagan, as to possessing some +clue to the melancholy business, were by no means removed. On the +contrary, he felt that he ought to have him brought before the bench of +magistrates who were conducting the investigation from day to day, and, +with this determination, he himself resolved to state fully and +candidly to the bench, all the hints which had transpired from Flanagan +respecting the denunciations said to be held out against O'Brien and +the causes assigned for them. Breakfast was now ready, and Fardorougha +himself entered, uttering petulant charges of neglect and idleness +against his servant. + +"He desarves no breakfast," said he; "not a morsel; it's robbin' me by +his idleness and schaming he is. What is he doin', Connor? or what has +become of him? He's not in the field nor about the place." + +Connor paused. + +"Why, now that I think of it, I didn't see him to-day," he replied; "I +thought that he was mendin' the slap at the Three-Acres. I'll thry if +he's in the barn." + +And he went accordingly to find him. "I'm afraid, father," said he, on +his return, "that Bartle's a bad boy, an' a dangerous one; he's not in +the barn, an' it appears, from the bed, that he didn't sleep there last +night. The truth is, he's gone; at laste he has brought all his clothes, +his box, an' everything with him; an' what's more, I suspect the reason +of it; he thinks he has let out too much to me; an' it 'ill go hard but +I'll make him let out more." + +The servant-maid, Biddy, now entered and informed them that four men, +evidently strangers, were approaching the house from the rear, and ere +she could add anything further on the subject, two of them walked in, +and, seizing Connor, informed him that he was their prisoner. + +"Your prisoner!" exclaimed his mother, getting pale; "why, what could +our poor boy do to make him your prisoner? He never did hurt or harm to +the child unborn." + +Fardorougha's keen gray eye rested sharply upon them for a moment; it +then turned to Honor, afterwards to Connor, and again gleamed bitterly +at the intruders--"What is this?" said he, starting up; "what is this? +you don't mane to rob us?" + +"I think," said the son, "you must be undher a mistake; you surely can +have no business with me. It's very likely you want some one else." + +"What is your name?" inquired he who appeared to be the principal of +them. + +"My name is Connor O'Donovan; an' I know no reason why I should deny +it." + +"Then you are the very man we come for," said the querist, "so you had +better prepare to accompany us; in the mean time you must excuse us +if we search your room. This is unpleasant, I grant, but we have no +discretion, and must perform our duty." + +"What do you want in this room?" said Fardorougha; "it's robbery you're +on for--it's robbery you're on for--in open daylight, too; but you're +late; I lodged the last penny yesterday; that's one comfort; you're +late--you're late." + +"What did my boy do?" exclaimed the affrighted mother; "what did he do +that you come to drag him away from us?" + +This question she put to the other constable, the first having entered +her son's bedroom. + +"I am afraid, ma'am, you'll know it too soon," replied the man; "it's a +heavy charge if it proves to be true." + +As he spoke his companion re-entered the apartment, with Connor's +Sunday coat in his hand, from the pocket of which he drew a steel and +tinder-box. + +"I'm sorry for this," he observed; "it corroborates what has been sworn +against you by your accomplice, and here, I fear, comes additional +proof." + +At the same moment the other two made their appearance, one of them +holding in his hand the shoes which Connor had lent to Flanagan, and +which he wore on the night of the conflagration. + +On seeing this, and comparing the two circumstances together, a fearful +light broke on the unfortunate young man, who had already felt conscious +of the snare into which he had fallen. With an air of sorrow and manly +resignation he thus addressed his parents:-- + +"Don't be alarmed; I see that there is an attempt made to swear away my +life; but, whatever happens, you both know that I am innocent of doin' +an injury to any one. If I die, I would rather die innocent than live as +guilty as he will that must have my blood to answer for." + +His mother, on hearing this, ran to him, and with her arms about his +neck, exclaimed, + +"Die! die! Connor darlin'--my brave boy--my only son--why do you talk +about death? What is it for? what is it about? Oh, for the love of God, +tell us what did our boy do?" + +"He is charged by Bartle Flanagan," replied one of the constables, +"with burning Bodagh Buie O'Brien's haggard, because he refused him his +daughter. He must now come with us to jail." + +"I see the whole plot," said Connor, "and a deep one it is; the villain +will do his worst; still I can't but have dependence upon justice and +my own innocence. I can't but have dependence upon God, who knows my +heart." + + + + +PART IV. + +Fardorougha stood amazed and confounded, looking from one to another +like a man who felt incapable of comprehending all that had passed +before him. His forehead, over which fell a few gray thin locks, assumed +a deadly paleness, and his eye lost the piercing expression which +usually characterized it. He threw his Cothamore several times over his +shoulders, as he had been in the habit of doing when about to proceed +after breakfast to his usual avocations, and as often laid it aside, +without being at all conscious of what he did. His limbs appeared to +get feeble, and his hands trembled as if he labored under palsy. In this +mood he passed from one to another, sometimes seizing a constable by the +arm with a hard, tremulous grip, and again suddenly letting go his hold +of him without speaking. At length a singular transition from this state +of mind became apparent; a gleam of wild exultation shot from his eye; +his sallow and blasted features brightened; the Cothamore was buttoned +under his chin with a rapid energy of manner evidently arising from the +removal of some secret apprehension. + +"Then," he exclaimed, "it's no robbery; it's not robbery afther all; but +how could it? there's no money here; not a penny; an' I'm belied, at any +rate; for there's not a poorer man in the barony--thank God, it's not +robbery!" + +"Oh, Fardorougha," said the wife, "don't you see they're goin' to take +him away from us?" + +"Take who away from us?" + +"Connor, your own Connor--our boy--the light of my heart--the light of +his poor mother's heart! Oh, Connor, Connor, what is it they're goin' to +do to you?" + +"No harm, mother, I trust; no harm--don't be frightened." + +The old man put his open hands to his temples, which he pressed +bitterly, and with all his force, for nearly half a minute. He had, +in truth, been alarmed into the very worst mood of his habitual vice, +apprehension concerning his money; and felt that nothing, except a +powerful effort, could succeed in drawing his attention to the scene +which was passing before him. + +"What," said he; "what is it that's wrong wid Connor?" + +"He must come to jail," said one of the men, looking at him with +surprise; "we have already stated the crime for which he stands +committed." + +"To jail! Connor O'Donovan to jail!" + +"It's too true, father; Bartle Flanagan has sworn that I burned Mr. +O'Brien's haggard." + +"Connor, Connor," said the old man, approaching him as he spoke, and +putting his arms composedly about his neck, "Connor, my brave boy, my +brave boy, it wasn't you did it; 'twas I did it," he added, turning to +the constables; "lave him, lave him wid her, an' take me in his place! +Who would if I would not--who ought, I say--an' I'll do it--take me; +I'll go in his place." + +Connor looked down upon the old man, and as he saw his heart rent, and +his reason absolutely tottering, a sense of the singular and devoted +affection which he had ever borne him, overcame him, and with a full +heart he dashed away a tear from his eye, and pressed his father to his +breast. + +"Mother," said he; "this will kill the old man; it will kill him!" + +"Fardorougha, a hagur," said Ha wife, feeling it necessary to sustain +him as much as possible, "don't take it so much to heart, it won't +signify--Connor's innocent, an' no harm will happen to him!" + +"But are you lavin' us, Connor? are they--must they bring you to jail?" + +"For a while, father; but I won't be long there I hope." + +"It's an unpleasant duty on our part," said the principal of them; +"still it's one we must perform. Your father should lose no time in +taking the proper steps for your defence." + +"And what are we to do?" asked the mother; "God knows the boy's as +innocent as I am." + +"Yes," said Fardorougha, still upon dwelling the resolution he had made; +"I'll go stand for you, Connor; you won't let them bring me instead of +you." + +"That's out of the question," replied the constable; "the law suffers +nothing of the kind to take place; but if you will be advised by me, +lose no time in preparing to defend him. It would be unjust to disguise +the matter from you, or to keep you ignorant of its being a case of life +and death." + +"Life and death! what do you mane?" asked Fardorougha, staring vacantly +at the last speaker. + +"It's painful to distress you; but if he's found guilty, it's death." + +"Death! hanged!" shrieked the old man, awaking as it were for the +first time to a full perception of his son's situation; "hanged! my boy +hanged! Connor, Connor, don't go from me!" + +"I'll die wid him," said the mother; "I'll die wid you, Connor. We +couldn't live widout him," she added, addressing the strangers; "as God +is in heaven we couldn't! Oh Connor, Connor, avourneen, what is it that +has come over us, and brought us to this sorrow?" + +The mother's grief then flowed on, accompanied by a burst of that +unstudied, but pathetic eloquence, which in Ireland is frequently +uttered in the tone of wail and lamentation peculiar to those who mourn +over the dead. + +"No," she added, with her arms tenderly about him, and her streaming +eyes fixed with a wild and mournful look of despair upon his face; "no, +he is in his loving mother's arms, the boy that never gave to his father +or me a harsh word or a sore heart! Long were we lookin' for him, an' +little did we think it was for this heavy fate that the goodness of God +sent him to us! Oh, many a look of lovin' affection, many a happy heart +did he give us! Many a time Connor, avillish, did I hang over your +cradle, and draw out to myself the happiness and the good that I hoped +was before you. You wor too good--too good, I doubt--to be long in +such a world as this, an' no wondher that the heart of the fair young +colleen, the heart of the _Colleen dhas dhun_ should rest upon you and +love you; for who ever knew you that didn't? Isn't there enough, King +of heaven! enough of the bad an' the wicked in this world for the law to +punish, an' not to take the innocent--not to take away from us the only +one--the only one--I can't--I can't--but if they do--Connor--if they do, +your lovin' mother will die wid you!" + +The stern officers of justice wiped their eyes, and were proceeding to +afford such consolation as they could, when Fardorougha, who had sat +down after having made way for Honor to recline on the bosom of their +son, now rose, and seizing the breast of his coat, was about to speak, +but ere he could utter a word he tottered, and, would have instantly +fallen, had not Connor caught him in his arms. This served for a moment +to divert the mother's grief, and to draw her attention from the son +to the husband, who was now insensible. He was carried to the door by +Connor; but when they attempted to lay him in a recumbent posture, it +was found almost impossible to unclasp the deathlike grip which he held +of the coat. His haggard face was shrunk and collapsed; the individual +features sharp and thin, but earnest and stamped with traces of alarm; +his brows, too, which were slightly knit, gave to his whole countenance +a character of keen and painful determination. But that which struck +those who were present, most, was the unyielding grasp with which he +clung even in his insensibility to the person of Connor. + +If not an affecting sight, it was one at least strongly indicative of +the intractable and indurated attachment which put itself forth with +such vague and illusive energy on behalf of his son. At length he +recovered, and on opening his eyes he fixed them with a long look of +pain and distraction upon the boy's countenance. + +"Father," said Connor, "don't be cast down--you need not--and you ought +not to be so much disheartened--do you feel better?" + +When the father heard his voice he smiled; yes--his shrunk, pale, +withered face was lit up by a wild, indescribable ecstasy, whose +startling expression waa borrowed, one would think, as much from the +light of insanity as from that of returning consciousness. He sucked in +his thin cheeks, smacked his parched, skinny lips, and with difficulty +called for drink. Having swallowed a little water, he looked round him +with more composure, and inquired-- + +"What has happened me? am I robbed? are you robbers? But I tell you +there's no money in the house. I lodged the last penny yesterday--afore +my God I did--but--oh, what am I sayin'? what is this, Connor?" + +"Father dear, compose yourself--we'll get over this throuble." + +"We will, darlin'," said Honor, wiping the pale brows of her husband; +"an' we won't lose him." + +"No, achora," said the old man; "no, we won't lose him! Connor?" + +"Well, father dear!" + +"There's a thing here--here"--and he placed his hand upon his +heart--"something it is that makes me afeard--a sinkin'--a weight--and +there's a strugglin', too, Connor. I know I can't stand it long--an' +it's about you--it's all about you." + +"You distress yourself too much, father; indeed you do. Why, I hoped +that you would comfort my poor mother till I come back to her and you, +as I will, plase God." + +"Yes," he replied; "yes, I will, I will." + +"You had better prepare," said one of the officers; "the sooner this is +over the better--he's a feeble man and not very well able to bear it." + +"You are right," said Connor; "I won't delay many minutes; I have only +to change my clothes, an' I am ready." + +In a short time he made his appearance dressed in his best suit; and, +indeed, it would be extremely difficult to meet, in any rank of life, a +finer specimen of vigor, activity, and manly beauty. His countenance, +at all times sedate and open, was on this occasion shaded by an air of +profound melancholy that gave a composed grace and dignity to his whole +bearing. + +"Now, father," said he, "before I go, I think it right to lave you and +my poor mother all the consolation I can. In the presence of God, in +yours, in my dear mother's, and in the presence of all who hear me, I +am as innocent of the crime that's laid to my charge as the babe unborn. +That's a comfort for you to know, and let it prevent you from frettin'; +and now, good by; God be with you, and strengthen, and support you +both!" + +Fardorougha had already seized his hand; but the old man could neither +speak nor weep; his whole frame appeared to have been suddenly pervaded +by a dry agony that suspended the beatings of his very heart. The +mother's grief, on the contrary, was loud, and piercing, and vehement. +She threw herself once more upon his neck; she kissed his lips, she +pressed him to her heart, and poured out as before the wail of a wild +and hopeless misery. At length, by the aid of some slight but necessary +force, her arms were untwined from about his neck; and Connor then, +stooping, embraced his father, and, gently placing him on a settle--bed, +bade him farewell! On reaching the door he paused, and, turning about, +surveyed his mother struggling in the hands of one of the officers +to get embracing him again, and his gray--haired father sitting in +speechless misery on the settle. He stood a moment to look upon them, +and a few bitter tears rolled, in the silence of manly sorrow, down his +cheeks. + +"Oh, Fardorougha!" exclaimed his mother, after they had gone, "sure it +isn't merely for partin' wid him that we feel so heart--broken. He may +never stand under this roof again, an' he all we have and had to love!" + +"No," returned Fardorougha, quietly; "no, it's not, as you say, for +merely partin' wid him--hanged! God! God! Mm--here--Honor--here, +the thought of it--I'll die--it'll break! Oh, God support me! my +heart--here--my heart'll break! My brain, too, and my head--oh! if God +'ud take me before I'd see it! But it can't be--it's not possible that +our innocent boy should meet sich a death!" + +"No, dear, it is not; sure he's innocent--that's one comfort; but, +Fardorougha, as the men said, you must go to a lawyer and see what can +be done to defind him." + +The old man rose up and proceeded to his son's bedroom. + +"Honor," said he, "come here;" and while uttering these words he gazed +upon her face with a look of unutterable and hopeless distress; "there's +his bed, Honor--his bed--he may never sleep on it more--he may be cut +down like a flower in his youth--an' then what will become of us?" + +"Forever, from this day out," said the distracted mother, "no hands +will ever make it but my own; on no other will I sleep--we will +both sleep--where his head lay there will mine be too--avick +machree--machree! Och, Fardorougha, we can't stand this; let us not take +it to heart, as we do; let us trust in God, an' hope for the best." + +Honor, in fact, found it necessary to assume the office of a comforter; +but it was clear that nothing urged or suggested by her could for a +moment win back the old man's heart from the contemplation of the loss +of his son. He moped about for a considerable time; but, ever and anon, +found himself in Connor's bedroom, looking upon his clothes and such +other memorials of him as it contained. + +During the occurrence of these melancholy incidents at Fardorougha's, +others of a scarcely less distressing character were passing under the +roof of Bodagh Buie O'Brien. + +Our readers need not be informed that the charge brought by Bartle +Flanagan against Connor, excited the utmost amazement in all who heard +it. So much at variance were his untarnished reputation and amiable +manners with a disposition so dark and malignant as that which must have +prompted the perpetration of such a crime, that it was treated at first +by the public as an idle rumor. The evidence, however, of Phil Curtis, +and his deposition to the conversation which occurred between him and +Connor, at the time and place already known to the reader, together with +the corroborating circumstances arising from the correspondence of +the footprints about the haggard with the shoes produced by the +constable--all, when combined together, left little doubt of his guilt. +No sooner had this impression become general, than the spirit of +the father was immediately imputed to the son, and many sagacious +observations made, all tending to show, that, as they expressed it, "the +bad drop of the old rogue would sooner or later come out in the young +one;" "he wouldn't be what he was, or the bitter heart of the miser +would appear;" with many other apothegms of similar import. The family +of the Bodagh, however, were painfully and peculiarly circumstanced. +With the exception of Una herself, none of them entertained a doubt that +Connor was the incendiary. Flanagan had maintained a good character, and +his direct impeachment of Connor, supported by such exact circumstantial +evidence, left nothing to be urged in the young man's defence. Aware as +they were of the force of Una's attachment, and apprehensive that the +shock, arising from the discovery of his atrocity, might be dangerous +if injudiciously disclosed to her, they resolved, in accordance with the +suggestion of their son, to break the matter to herself with the utmost +delicacy and caution. + +"It is better," said John, "that she should hear of the misfortune from +ourselves; for, after breaking it to her as gently as possible, we can +at least attempt to strengthen and console her under it." + +"Heaven above sees," exclaimed his mother, "that it was a black and +unlucky business to her and to all of us; but now that she knows what a +revingeful villain he is, I'm sure she'll not find it hard to banish him +out of her thoughts. _Deah Grasthias_ for the escape she had from him at +any rate!" + +"John, bring her in," said the father; "bring the unfortunate young +crature in. I can't but pity her, Bridget; I can't but pity ma colleen +voghth." + +When Una entered with her brother she perceived by a glance at the +solemn bearing of her parents, that some unhappy announcement was about +to be made to her. She sat down, therefore, with a beating heart and a +cheek already pale with apprehension. + +"Una," said her father, "we sent for you to mention a circumstance that +we would rather you should hear from ourselves than from strangers. You +were always a good girl, Una--an' obadient girl, and sensible beyant +your years; and I trust that your good sinse and the grace of the +Almighty will enable you to bear up undher any disappointment that may +come upon you." + +"Surely, father, there can be nothing worse than I know already," she +replied. + +"Why, what do you know, dear?" + +"Only what you told me the day Fardorougha was here, that nothing +agreeable to my wishes could take place." + +"I would give a great deal that the business was now as it was even +then," responded her father; "there's far worse to come, Una, an' you +must be firm, an' prepare to hear what'll thry you sorely." + +"I can't guess it, father; but for God's sake tell me at once." + +"Who do you think burned our property?" + +"And I suppose if she hadn't been undher the one roof wid us that it's +ourselves he'd burn," observed her mother. + +"Father, tell me the worst at once--whatever it may be;--how could I +guess the villain or villains who destroyed our property?" + +"Villain, indeed! you may well say so," returned the Bodagh. "That +villain is no other than Connor O'Donovan!" + +Una felt as if a weighty burden had been removed from her heart; she +breathed freely; her depression and alarm vanished, and her dark eye +kindled into proud confidence in the integrity of her lover. + +"And, father," she asked, in a full and firm voice, "is there nothing +worse than that to come?" + +"Worse! is the girl's brain turned?" + +"_Dhar a Lhora Heena_, she's as mad I believe as ould Fardorougha +himself," said the mother; "worse! why, she has parted wid all the +reasing she ever had." + +"Indeed, mother, I hope I have not, and that my reason's as clear as +ever; but, as to Connor O'Donovan, he's innocent of that charge, and of +every other that may be brought against him; I don't believe it, and I +never will." + +"It's proved against him; it's brought, home to him." + +"Who's his accuser?" + +"His father's servant, Bartle Flanagan, has turned king's evidence." + +"The deep-dyed villain!" she exclaimed, with indignation; "father, of +that crime, so sure as God's in heaven, so sure is Connor O'Donovan +innocent, and so sure is Bartle Flanagan guilty--I know it." + +"You know it--explain yourself." + +"I mean I feel it--ay, home to the core of my heart--my unhappy heart--I +feel the truth of what I say." + +"Una," observed her brother, "I'm afraid you have been vilely deceived +by him--there's not the slightest doubt of his guilt." + +"Don't you be deceived, John; I say he's innocent--as I hope for heaven +he's innocent; and, father, I'm not a bit cast down or disheartened by +anything I have yet heard against him." + +"You're a very extraordinary girl, Una; but for my part I'm glad you +look upon it as you do. If his innocence appears, no man alive will be +better plazed at it than myself." + +"His innocence will appear," exclaimed the faithful girl; "it must +appear; and,--father, mark this--I say the time will tell yet who is +innocent and who is guilty. God knows," she added, her energy of manner +increasing, while a shower of hot tears fell down her cheeks, "God knows +I would marry him to-morrow with the disgrace of that and ten times as +much upon him, so certain am I that his heart and hand are free from +thought or deed that's either treacherous or dishonorable." + +"Marry him!" said her brother, losing temper; "nobody doubts but you'd +marry him on the gallows, wid the rope about his neck." + +"I would do it, and unite myself to a true heart. Don't mistake me, +and mother, dear, don't blame me," she added, her tears flowing still +faster; "he's in disgrace--sunk in shame and sorrow--and I won't conceal +the force of what I feel for him; I won't desert him now as the world +will do; I know his heart, and on the scaffold to-morrow I would become +his wife, if it would take away one atom of his misery." + +"If he's innocent," said her father, "you have more pinetration than +any girl in Europe; but if he's guilty of such an act against any one +connected with you, Una, the guilt of all the divils in hell is no +match for his. Well, you have heard all we wanted to say to you, and you +needn't stay." + +"As she herself says," observed John, "perhaps time will place +everything in its true light. At present all those who are not in love +with him have little doubt of his guilt. However, even as it is, in +principle Una is right; putting love out of the question, we should +prejudge no one." + +"Time will," said his sister, "or rather God will in His own good time. +On God I'm sure he depends; on his providence I also rely for seeing +his name and character cleared of all that has been brought against him. +John, I wish to speak to you in my own room; not that I intend to make +any secret of it, but I want to consult with you first." + +"_Cheerna dheelish_," exclaimed her mother; "what a wife that child +would make to any man that desarved her!" + +"It's more than I'm able to do, to be angry with her," returned the +Bodagh. "Did you ever know her to tell a lie, Bridget?" + +"A lie! no, nor the shadow of a lie never came out of her lips; the +desate's not in her; an' may God look down on her wid compunction this +day; for there's a dark road I doubt before her!" + +"Amen," responded her father; "amen, I pray the Saviour. At all evints, +O'Donovan's guilt or innocence will soon be known," he added; "the +'sizes begin this day week, so that the business will soon be settled +either one way or other." + +Una, on reaching her own room, thus addressed her affectionate brother: + +"Now, John, you know that my grandfather left rue two hundred guineas in +his will, and you know, too, the impossibility of getting any money from +the clutches of Pardorougha. You must see Connor, and find out how he +intends to defend himself. If his father won't allow him sufficient +means to employ the best lawyers--as I doubt whether he will or +not--just tell him the truth, that whilst I have a penny of these two +hundred guineas, he mustn't want money; an' tell him, too, that all the +world won't persuade me that he's guilty; say I know him to be innocent, +and that his disgrace has made him dearer to me than he ever was +before." + +"Surely, you can't suppose for a moment, my dear Una, that I, your +brother, who, by the way, have never opened my lips to him, could +deliberately convey such a message." + +"It must be conveyed in some manner; I'm resolved on that." + +"The best plan," said the other, "is to find out whatsoever attorney +they employ, and then to discover, if possible, whether his father has +furnished sufficient funds for his defence. If he has, your offer is +unnecessary; and if not, a private arrangement may be made with the +attorney of which nobody else need know anything." + +"God bless you, John! God bless you!" she replied; "that is far better; +you have been a good brother to your poor Una--to your poor unhappy +Una!" + +She leaned her head on a table, and wept for some time at the trying +fate, as she termed it, which hung over two beings so young and so +guiltless of any crime. The brother soothed her by every argument in his +power, and, after gently compelling her to dry her tears, expressed his +intention of going early the next day to ascertain whether or not +any professional man had been engaged to conduct the defence of her +unfortunate lover. + +In effecting this object there was little time lost on the part of young +O'Brien. Knowing that two respectable attorneys lived in the next market +town, he deemed it best to ascertain whether Fardorougha had applied to +either of them for the purposes aforementioned, or, if not, to assure +himself whether the old man had gone to any of those pettifoggers, who, +rather than appear without practice, will undertake a cause almost on +any terms, and afterwards institute a lawsuit for the recovery of a +much larger bill of costs than a man of character and experience would +demand. + +In pursuance of the plan concerted between them, the next morning found +him rapping, about eleven o'clock, at the door of an attorney named +Kennedy, whom he asked to see on professional business. A clerk, on +hearing his voice in the hall, came out and requestedm him to step into +a back room, adding that his master, who was engaged, would see him the +moment he had despatched the person then with him. Thus shown, he was +separated from O'Halloran's office only by a pair of folding doors, +through which every word uttered in the office could be distinctly +heard; a circumstance that enabled O'Brien unintentionally to overhear +the following dialogue between the parties: + +"Well, my good friend," said Kennedy to the stranger, who, it appeared, +had arrived before O'Brien only a few minutes, "I am now disengaged; +pray, let me know your business." + +The stranger paused a moment, as if seeking the most appropriate terms +in which to express himself. + +"It's a black business," he replied, "and the worst of it is I'm a poor +man." + +"You should not go to law, then," observed the attorney. "I tell you +beforehand you will find it is devilish expensive." + +"I know it," said the man; "it's open robbery; I know what it cost me +to recover the little pences that wor sometimes due to me, when I broke +myself lending weeny trifles to strugglin' people that I thought honest, +and robbed me aftherwards." + +"In what way can my services be of use to you at present? for that I +suppose is the object of your calling upon me," said Kennedy. + +"Oh thin, sir, if you have the grace of God, or kindness, or pity in +your heart, you can sarve me, you can save my heart from breakin'!" + +"How--how, man?--come to the point." + +"My son, sir, Connor, my only son, was taken away from his mother an' +me, an' put into jail yesterday mornin', an' he innocent; he was put in, +sir, for burnin' Bodagh Buie O'Brien's haggard, an' as God is above me, +he as much burnt it as you did." + +"Then you are Fardorougha Donovan," said the attorney; "I have heard +of that outrage; and, to be plain with you, a good deal about yourself. +How, in the name of heaven, can you call yourself a poor man?" + +"They belie me, sir, they're bitther enemies that say I'm otherwise." + +"Be you rich or be you poor, let me tell you that I would not stand in +your son's situation for the wealth of the king's exchequer. Sell your +last cow; your last coat; your last acre; sell the bed from under you, +without loss of time, if you wish to save his life; and I tell you that +for this purpose you must employ the best counsel, and plenty of them. +The Assizes commence on this day week, so that you have not a single +moment to lose. Think now whether you love your son or your money best." + +"Saver of earth, amn't I an unhappy man! every one sayin' I have money, +an' me has not! Where would I get it? Where would a man like me get it? +Instead o' that, I'm so poor that I see plainly I'll starve yet; I see +it's before me! God pity me this day! But agin, there's my boy, my boy; +oh, God, pity him! Say what's the laste, the lowest, the very lowest you +could take, for defendin' him; an' for pity's sake, for charity's sake, +for God's sake, don't grind a poor, helpless, ould man by extortion. If +you knew the boy--if you knew him--oh, afore my God, if you knew him, +you wouldn't be apt to charge a penny; you'd be proud to sarve sich a +boy." + +"You wish everything possible to be done for him, of course." + +"Of coorse, of coorse; but widout extravagance; as asy an' light on a +poor man as you can. You could shorten it, sure, an' lave out a grate +dale that 'ud be of no use; nu' half the paper 'ud do; for you might +make the clerks write close--why, very little 'ud be wanted if you wor +savin'." + +"I can defend him with one counsel if you wish; but, if anxious to save +the boy's life, you ought to enable your attorney to secure a strong bar +of the most eminent lawyers he can engage." + +"An' what 'ud it cost to hire three or four of them?" + +"The whole expenses might amount to between thirty and forty guineas." + +A deep groan of dismay, astonishment, and anguish, was the only reply +made to this for some time. + +"Oh, heavens above!" he screamed, "what will--what will become of me! +I'd rather be dead, as I'll soon be, than hear this, or know it at all. +How could I get it? I'm as poor as poverty itself! Oh, couldn't you feel +for the boy, an' defend him on trust; couldn't you feel for him?" + +"It's your business to do that," returned the man of law, coolly. + +"Feel for him; me! oh, little you know how my heart's in him; but any +way, I'm an unhappy man; everything in the world wide goes against me; +but--oh, my darlin' boy--Connor, Connor, my son, to be tould that I +don't feel for you--well you know, avourneen machree--well you know that +I feel for you, and 'ud kiss the track of your feet upon the ground: +Oh, it's cruel to tell it to me; to say sich a thing to a man that his +heart's braakin' widin him for your sake; but, sir, you sed this minute +that you could defend him wid one lawyer?" + +"Certainly, and with a cheap one, too, if you wish; but, in that case, I +would rather decline the thing altogether." + +"Why? why? sure if you can defind him chapely, isn't it so much saved? +isn't it the same as if you definded him at a higher rate? Sure, if one +lawyer tells the truth for the poor boy, ten or fifteen can do no more; +an' thin maybe they'd crass in an' puzzle one another if you hired too +many of them." + +"How would you feel, should your son be found guilty; you know the +penalty is his life. He will be executed." + +O'Brien could hear the old man clap his hands in agony, and in truth he +walked about wringing them as if his heart would burst. + +"What will I do?" he exclaimed; "what will I do? I can't lose him, an' I +won't lose him! Lose him! oh God, oh God, it is to lose the best son and +only child that ever man had! Wouldn't it be downright murdher in me to +let him be lost if I could prevint it? Oh, if I was in his place, what +wouldn't he do for me, for the father that he always loved!" + +The tears ran copiously down his furrowed cheeks; and his whole +appearance evinced such distraction and anguish as could rarely be +witnessed. + +"I'll tell you what I'll do," he added; "I'll give you fifty guineas +after my death if you'll defind him properly." + +"Much obliged," replied the other; "but in matters of this kind we make +no such bargains." + +"I'll make it sixty, in case you don't axe it now." + +"Can you give me security that I'll survive you? Why, you are +tough-looking enough to outlive me." + +"Me tough!--no, God help me, my race is nearly ran; I won't be alive +this day twelve months--look at the differ atween us." + +"This is idle talk," said the attorney; "determine on what you'll do; +really my time is valuable, and I am now wasting it to no purpose." + +"Take the offer--depind on't it'll soon come to you." + +"No, no," said the other, coolly; "not at all; we might shut up shop if +we made such _post obit_ bargains as that." + +"I'll tell you," said Fardorougha; "I'll tell you what;" his eyes +gleamed with a reddish, bitter light; and he clasped his withered hands +together, until the joints cracked, and the perspiration teemed from his +pale, sallow features; "I'll tell you," he added--"I'll make it seventy!" + +"No." + +"Aighty!" + +"No." + +"Ninety!"--with a husky shriek + +"No, no." + + +"A hundhre'--a hundhre'--a hundhre'," he shouted; "a hundhre', when I'm +gone--when I'm gone!" + +One solemn and determined No, that precluded all hopes of any such +arrangement, was the only reply. + +The old man leaped up again, and looked impatiently and wildly and +fiercely about him. + +"What are you?" he shouted; "what are you? You're a divil--a born divil. +Will nothing but my death satisfy you? Do you want to rob me--to +starve me--to murdher me? Don't you see the state I'm in by you? Look at +me--look at these thremblin' limbs--look at the sweat powerin' down from +my poor ould face! What is it you want? There--there's my gray hairs +to you. You have brought me to that--to more than that--I'm dyin' this +minute--I'm dyin'--oh, my boy--my boy, if I had you here--ay, +I'm--I'm--" + +He staggered over on his seat, his eyes gleaming in a fixed and intense +glare at the attorney; his hands were clenched, his lips parched, and +his mummy-like cheeks sucked, as before, into his toothless jaws. In +addition to all this, there was a bitter white smile of despair upon his +features, and his thin gray locks, that were discomposed in the paroxysm +by his own hands, stood out in disorder upon his head. We question, +indeed, whether mere imagination could, without having actually +witnessed it in real life, conceive any object so frightfully +illustrative of the terrible dominion which the passion of avarice is +capable of exercising over the human heart. + +"I protest to Heaven," exclaimed the attorney, alarmed, "I believe the +man is dying--if not dead, he is motionless." + +"O'Donovan, what's the matter with you?" + +The old man's lips gave a dry, hard smack, then became desperately +compressed together, and his cheeks were drawn still further into his +jaws. At length he sighed deeply, and changed his fixed and motionless +attitude. + +"He is alive, at all events," said one of his young men. + +Fardorougha turned his eyes upon the speaker, then upon his master, and +successively upon two other assistants who were in the office. + +"What is this?" said he, "what is this?--I'm very weak--will you get me +a dhrink o' wather? God help me--God direct me! I'm an unhappy man; get +me a dhrink, for Heaven's sake! I can hardly spake, my mouth and lips +are so dry." + +The water having been procured, he drank it eagerly, and felt evidently +relieved. + +"This business," he continued, "about the money--I mane about my poor +boy. Connor, how will it be managed, sir?" + +"I have already told you that there is but one way of managing it, and +that is, as the young man's life is at stake, to spare no cost." + +"And I must do that?" + +"You ought, at least, remember that he's an only son, and that if you +lose him--" + +"Lose him!--I can't--I couldn't--I'd die--die--dead--" + +"And by so shameful a death," proceeded Cassidy, "you will not only be +childless, but you will have the bitter fact to reflect on that he died +in disgrace. You will blush to name him! What father would not make any +sacrifice to prevent his child from meeting such a fate? It's a trying +thing and a pitiable calamity to see a father ashamed to name the child +that he loves." + +The old man arose, and, approaching Cassidy, said, eagerly, "How much +will do? Ashamed to name you, alanna, Ghierna--Ghierna--ashamed to name +you, Connor! Oh! if the world knew you, as thore, as well as I an' your +poor mother knows you, they'd say that we ought to be proud to hear your +name soundin' in our ears. How much will do? for, may God stringthen me, +I'll do it." + +"I think about forty guineas; it may be more, and it may be less, but we +will say forty." + +"Then I'll give you an ordher for it on a man that's a good mark. Give +me pin an' paper, fast." + +"The paper was placed before him, and he held the pen in his hand for +some time, and, ere he wrote, turned a look of deep distress on Cassidy. + +"God Almighty pity me!" said he; "you see--you see that I'm a poor +heart--broken creature--a ruined man I'll be--a ruined man!" + +"Think of your son, and of his situation." + +"It's before me--I know it is--to die like a dog behind a ditch wid +hunger!" + +"Think of your son, I say, and, if possible, save him from a shameful +death." + +"What! Ay--yis--yis--surely--surely--oh, my poor boy--my innocent boy--I +will--I will do it." + +He then sat down, and, with a tremulous hand, and lips tightly drawn +together, wrote an order on P----, the county treasurer, for the money. + +Cassidy, on seeing it, looked alternately at the paper and the man for a +considerable time. + +"Is P----your banker?" he asked. + +"Every penny that I'm worth he has." + +"Then you're a ruined man," he replied, with cool emphasis. "P---- +absconded the day before yesterday, and robbed half the county. Have you +no loose cash at home?" + +"Robbed! who robbed?" + +"Why, P----has robbed every man who was fool enough to trust him; he's +off to the Isle of Man, with the county funds in addition to the other +prog." + +"You don't mane to say," replied Fardorougha, with a hideous calmness of +voice and manner; "you don't, you can't mane to say he has run off wid +my money?" + +"I do; you'll never see a shilling of it, if you live to the age of a +Hebrew patriarch. See what it is to fix the heart upon money. You are +now, what you wish the world to believe you to be, a poor man." + +"Ho! ho!" howled the miser, "he darn't, he darn't--wouldn't God consume +him if he robbed the poor--wouldn't God stiffen him, and pin him to the +airth, if he attempted to run off wid the hard earnings of strugglin' +honest men? Where 'ud God be, an' him to dar to do it! But it's a +falsity, an' you're thryin' me to see how I'd bear it--it is, it is, an' +may Heaven forgive you!" + +"It's as true as the Gospel," replied the other; "why, I'm surprised +you didn't hear it before now--every one knows it--it's over the whole +country." + +"It's a lie--it's a lie!" he howled again; "no one dar to do such an +act. You have some schame in this--you're not a safe man; you're a +villain, an' nothin' else; but I'll soon know; which of these is my +hat?" + +"You are mad, I think," said Cassidy. + +"Get me my hat, I say; I'll soon know it; but sure the world's all in a +schame against me--all, all, young an' ould--where's my hat, I say?" + +"You have put it upon your head this moment," said the other. + +"An' my stick?" + +"It's in your hand." + +"The curse o' Heaven upon you," he shrieked, "whether it's thrue or +false!" and, with a look that might scorch him to whom it was directed, +he shuffled in a wild and frantic mood out of the house. + +"The man is mad," observed Cassidy; "or, if not, he will soon be so; I +never witnessed such a desperate case of avarice. If ever the demon of +money lurked in any man's soul, it's in his. God bless me! God bless +me! it's dreadful! Richard, tell the gentleman in the dining-room I'm at +leisure to see him." + +The scene we have attempted to describe spared O'Brien the trouble +of much unpleasant inquiry, and enabled him to enter at once into the +proposed arrangements on behalf of Connor. Of course he did not permit +his sister's name to transpire, nor any trace whatsoever to appear, by +which her delicacy might be compromised, or her character involved. +His interference in the matter he judiciously put upon the footing of +personal regard for the young man, and his reluctance to be even the +indirect means of bringing him to a violent and shameful death. Having +thus fulfilled Una's instructions, he returned home, and relieved her of +a heavy burthen by a full communication of all that had been done. + +The struggle hitherto endured by Fardoroug--he was in its own nature +sufficiently severe to render his sufferings sharp and pungent; still +they resembled the influence of local disease more than that of a malady +which prostrates the strength and grapples with the powers of the whole +constitution. The sensation he immediately felt, on hearing that his +banker had absconded with the gains of his penurious life, was rather +a stunning shock that occasioned for the moment a feeling of dull, and +heavy, and overwhelming dismay. It filled, nay, it actually distended +his narrow soul with an oppressive sense of exclusive misery that +banished all consideration for every person and thing extraneous to his +individual selfishness. In truth, the tumult of his mind was peculiarly +wild and anomalous. The situation of his son, and the dreadful fate that +hung over him, were as completely forgotten as if they did not exist. +Yet there lay, underneath his own gloomy agony, a remote consciousness +of collateral affliction, such as is frequently experienced by those +who may be drawn, by some temporary and present pleasure, from the +contemplation of their misery. We feel, in such cases, that the darkness +is upon us, even while the image of the calamity is not before the mind; +nay, it sometimes requires an effort to bring it back, when anxious to +account for our depression; but when it comes, the heart sinks with a +shudder, and we feel, that, although it ceased to engage our thoughts, +we had been sitting all the time beneath its shadow. For this reason, +although Fardorougha's own loss absorbed, in one sense, all his powers +of suffering, still he knew that something else pressed with additional +weight upon his heart. Of its distinct character, however, he was +ignorant, and only felt that a dead and heavy load of multiplied +affliction bent him in burning anguish to the earth. + +There is something more or less eccentric in the gait and dress of every +miser. Fardorougha's pace was naturally slow, and the habit for which, +in the latter point, he had all his life been remarkable, was that of +wearing a great-coat thrown loosely about his shoulders. In summer it +saved an inside one, and, as he said, kept him cool and comfortable. +That he seldom or never put his arms into it arose from the fact that +he knew it would last a much longer period of time than if he wore it in +the usual manner. + +On leaving the attorney's office, he might be seen creeping along +towards the County Treasurer's, at a pace quite unusual to him; his +hollow, gleaming eyes were bent on the earth; his Gothamore about his +shoulders; his staff held with a tight desperate grip, and his whole +appearance that of a man frightfully distracted by the intelligence of +some sudden calamity. + +He had not proceeded far on this hopeless errand, when many bitter +confirmations of the melancholy truth, by persons whom he met on their +return from P----'s residence, were afforded him. Even these, however, +were insufficient to satisfy him; he heard them with a vehement +impatience, that could not brook the bare possibility of the report +being true. His soul clung with the tenacity of a death--grip to the +hope, that however others might have suffered, some chance might, +notwithstanding, still remain in Ms particular favor. In the meantime, +he poured out curses of unexampled malignity against the guilty +defaulter, on whose head he invoked the Almighty's vengeance with a +venomous fervor which appalled all who heard him. Having reached +the treasurer's house, a scene presented itself that was by no means +calculated to afford him consolation. Persons of every condition, from +the squireen and gentleman farmer, to the humble widow and inexperienced +orphan, stood in melancholy groups about the deserted mansion, +interchanging details of their losses, their blasted prospects, and +their immediate ruin. The cries of the widow, who mourned for the +desolation brought upon her and her now destitute orphans, rose in a +piteous wail to heaven, and the industrious fathers of many struggling +families, with pale faces and breaking hearts, looked in silent misery +upon the closed shutters and smokeless chimneys of their oppressor's +house, bitterly conscious that the laws of the boasted constitution +under which they lived, permitted the destroyer of hundreds to enjoy, +in luxury and security, the many thousands of which, at one fell and +rapacious swoop, he had deprived them. + +With white, quivering lips and panting breath, Fardorougha approached +and joined them. + +"What, what," said he, in a broken sentence, "is this true--can it, can +it be true? Is the thievin' villain of hell gone? Has he robbed us, +ruined us, destroyed us?" + +"Ah, too thrue it is," replied a farmer; "the dam' rip is off to that +nest of robbers, the Isle of Man; ay, he's gone! an' may all our bad +luck past, present, and to come, go with him, an' all he tuck!" + +Fardorougha looked at his informant as if he had been P----himself; he +then glared from one to another, whilst the white foam wrought up to his +lips by the prodigious force of his excitement. He clasped his hands, +then attempted to speak, but language had abandoned him. + +"If one is to judge from your appearance, you have suffered heavily," +observed the farmer. + +The other stared at him with a kind of angry amazement for doubting it, +or it might be, for speaking so coolly of his loss. "Suffered!" +said he, "ay, ay, but did yeea thry the house? we'll +see--suffered!--suffered!--we'll see." + +He immediately shuffled over to the hall door, which he assaulted with +the eagerness of a despairing soul at the gate of heaven, throwing into +each knock such a character of impatience and apprehension, as one might +suppose the aforesaid soul to feel from a certain knowledge that the +devil's clutches were spread immediately behind, to seize and carry him +to perdition. His impetuosity, however, was all in vain; not even +an echo reverberated through the cold and empty walls, but, on the +contrary, every peal was followed by a most unromantic and ominous +silence. + +"That man appears beside himself," observed another of the sufferers; +"surely, it he wasn't half-mad, he'd not expect to find any one in an +empty house!" + +"Devil a much it signifies whether he's mad or otherwise," responded a +neighbor. "I know him well; his name's Fardorougha Donovan, the miser +of Lisnamona, the biggest shkew that ever skinned a flint. If P----did +nothin' worse than fleece him, it would never stand between him an' the +blessin' o' Heaven." + +[Illustration: PAGE 245-- He rattled, and thumped, and screamed] + +Fardorougha, in the mean time, finding that no response was given from +the front, passed hurriedly by an archway into the back court, where he +made similar efforts to get in by attempting to force the kitchen door. +Every entrance, however, had been strongly secured; he rattled, and +thumped, and screamed, as if P----himself had actually been within +hearing, but still to no purpose; he might as well have expected to +extort a reply from the grave. + +When he returned to the group that stood on the lawn, the deadly +conviction that all was lost affected every joint of his body with +a nervous trepidation, that might have been mistaken for _delirium +tremens_. His eyes were full of terror, mingled with the impotent fury +of hatred and revenge; whilst over all now predominated for the first +time such an expression of horror and despair, as made the spectators +shudder to look upon him. + +"Where was God," said he, addressing them, and his voice, naturally thin +and wiry, now became lmsky and hollow, "where was God, to suffer this? +to suffer the poor to be ruined, and the rich to be made poor? Was it +right for the Almighty to look on an' let the villain do it? No--no--no; +I say no!" + +The group around him shuddered at the daring blasphemy to which his +monstrous passion had driven him. Many females, who were in tears, +lamenting audibly, started, and felt their grief suspended for a moment +by this revolting charge against the justice of Providence. + +"What do you all stand for here," he proceeded, "like stocks an stones? +Why don't yees kneel with me, an' let us join in one curse; one, no, but +let us shower them down upon him in thousands--in millions; an' when we +can no longer spake them, let us think them. To the last hour of my life +my heart 'ill never be widout a curse for him; an' the last word afore +I go into the presence of God, 'll be a black, heavy blessin' from hell +against him an' his, sowl an' body, while a drop o' their bad blood's +upon the earth." + +"Don't be blasphamin', honest man," said a bystander; "if you've lost +money, that's no rason why you should fly in the face o' God for P----'s +roguery. Devil a one o' myself cares if I join you in a volley against +the robbin' scoundril, but I'd not take all the money the rip of hell +ran away wid, an' spake of God as you do." + +"Oh, Saver!" exclaimed Fardorougha, who probably heard not a word he +said; "I knew--I knew--I always felt it was before me--a dog's death +behind a ditch--my tongue out wid starvation and hunger, and it was he +brought me to it!" + +He had already knelt, and was uncovered, his whitish hair tossed by +the breeze in confusion about a face on which was painted the fearful +workings of that giant spirit, under whose tremendous grasp he writhed +and suffered like a serpent in the talons of a vulture. In this +position, with uplifted and trembling arms, his face raised towards +heaven, and his whole figure shrunk firmly together by the intense +malignity with which he was about to hiss out his venomous imprecations +against the defaulter, he presented at least one instance in which the +low, sordid vice of avarice rose to something like wild grandeur, if not +sublimity. + +Having remained in this posture for some time, he clasped his withered +hands together and wrung them until the bones cracked; then rising up +and striking his stick bitterly upon the earth-- + +"I can't," he exclaimed, "I can't get out the curses against him; but my +heart's full of them--they're in it--they're in it!--it's black an' +hot wid them; I feel them here--here--movin an if they war alive, an' +they'll be out." + +Such was the strength and impetuosity of his hatred, and such his +eagerness to discharge the whole quiver of his maledictions against the +great public delinquent, that, as often happens in cases of overwhelming +agitation, his faculties were paralyzed by the storm of passion which +raged within him. + +Having risen to his feet, he left the group, muttering his wordless +malignity as he went along, and occasionally pausing to look back with +the fiery glare of a hyena at the house in which the robbery of his +soul's treasure had been planned and accomplished. + +It is unnecessary to say that the arrangements entered into with +Cassidy, by John O'Brien, were promptly and ably carried into effect. A +rapid ride soon brought the man of briefs and depositions to the prison, +where the unhappy Connor lay. The young man's story, though simple, was +improbable, and his version of the burning such as induced Cassidy, +who knew little of impressions and feelings in the absence of facts, +to believe that no other head than his ever concocted the crime. Still, +from the manly sincerity with which his young client spoke, he +felt inclined to impute the act to a freak of boyish malice and +disappointment, rather than to a spirit of vindictive rancor. He +entertained no expectation whatsoever of Connor's acquittal, and hinted +to him that it was his habit in such cases to recommend his clients +to be prepared for the worst, without, at the same time, altogether +abolishing hope. There was, indeed, nothing to break the chain of +circumstantial evidence in which Flanagan had entangled him; he had been +at the haggard shortly before the conflagration broke out; he had met +Phil Curtis, and begged that man to conceal the fact of his having seen +him, and he had not slept in his own bed either on that or the preceding +night. It was to no purpose he affirmed that Flanagan himself had +borrowed from him, and worn, on the night in question, the shoes whose +prints were so strongly against him, or that the steel and tinder--box, +which were found in his pocket, actually belonged to his accuser, who +must have put them there without his knowledge. His case, in fact, was a +bad one, and he felt that the interview with his attorney left him more +seriously impressed with the danger of his situation, than he had been +up till that period. + +"I suppose," said he, when the instructions were completed, "you have +seen my father?" + +"Everything is fully and liberally arranged," replied the other, with +reservation; "your father has been with me to--day; in fact, I parted +with him only a few minutes before I left home. So far let your mind be +easy. The government prosecutes, which is something in your favor; +and now, good-by to you; for my part, I neither advise you to hope or +despair. If the worst comes to the worst, you must bear it like a man; +and if we get an acquittal, it will prove the more agreeable for its not +being expected." + +The unfortunate youth felt, after Cassidy's departure, the full force of +that dark and fearful presentiment which arises from the approach of +the mightiest calamity that can befall an innocent man--a public and +ignominious death, while in the very pride of youth, strength, and those +natural hopes of happiness which existence had otherwise promised. +In him this awful apprehension proceeded neither from the terror of +judgment nor of hell, but from that dread of being withdrawn from life, +and of passing down from the light, the enjoyments and busy intercourse +of a breathing and conscious world, into the silence and corruption of +the unknown grave. When this ghastly picture was brought near him by the +force of his imagination, he felt for a moment as if his heart had +died away in him, and his blood became congealed into ice. Should this +continue, he knew that human nature could not sustain it long, and he +had already resolved to bear his fate with firmness, whatever that fate +might be. He then reflected that he was innocent, and, remembering the +practice of his simple and less political forefathers, he knelt down and +fervently besought the protection of that, Being in whose hands are the +issues of life and death. + +On rising from this act of heartfelt devotion, he experienced that +support which he required so much. The fear of death ceased to alarm +him, and his natural fortitude returned with more than its usual power +to his support. In this state of mind he was pacing his narrow room, +when the door opened, and his father, with a tottering step, entered and +approached him. The son was startled, if not terrified, at the change +which so short a time had wrought in the old man's appearance. + +"Good God, father dear!" he exclaimed, as the latter threw his arms with +a tight and clinging grasp about him; "good heavens! what has happened +to change you so much for the worse? Why, if you fret this way about me, +you'll soon break your heart. Why will you fret, father, when you know +I am innocent? Surely, at the worst, it is better to die innocent than +to live guilty." + +"Connor," said the old man, still clinging tenaciously to him, and +looking wildly into his face, "Connor, it's broke--my heart's broke +at last. Oh, Connor, won't you pity me when you hear it--won't you, +Connor--oh, when you hear it, Connor, won't you pity me? It's gone, it's +gone, it's gone--he's off, off--to that nest of robbers, the Isle of +Man, and has robbed me and half the county. P----has; I'm a ruined man, +a beggar, an' will die a dog's death." + +Connor looked down keenly into his father's face, and began to entertain +a surmise so terrible that the beatings of his heart were in a moment +audible to his own ear. + +"Father," he inquired, "in the name of God what is wrong with you? What +is it you spake of? Has P----gone off with your money? Sit down, and +don't look so terrified." + +"He has, Connor--robbed me an' half the county--he disappeared the +evenin' of the very day I left my last lodgment wid him; he's in that +nest of robbers, the Isle of Man, an' I'm ruined--ruined! Oh God! +Connor, how can I stand it? all my earnin's an' my savin's an' the +fruits of my industry in his pocket, an' upon his back, an' upon his +bones! My brain is reelin'--I dunna what I'm doin', nor what I'll do. +To what hand now can I turn myself? Who'll assist me! I dunna what I'm +doin', nor scarcely what I'm sayin'. My head's all in confusion. Gone! +gone! gone! Oh see the luck that has come down upon me! Above all men, +why was I singled out to be made a world's wondher of--why was I? What +did I do? I robbed no one; yet it's gone--an' see the death that's afore +me! oh God! oh God!" + +"Well, father, let it go--you have still your health; you have still +my poor mother to console you; and I hope you'll soon have myself, too; +between us well keep you comfortable, and, if you'll allow us to take +our own way, more so than ever you did--" + +Pardorougha started, as if struck by some faint but sudden recollection. +All at once he looked with amazement around the room, and afterwards +with a pause of inquiry, at his son. At length, a light of some +forgotten memory appeared to flash at once across his brain; his +countenance changed from the wild and unsettled expression which it +bore, to one more stamped with the earnest humanity of our better +nature. + +"Oh, Connor!" he at last exclaimed, putting his two hands into those of +his son: "can you pity me, an' forgive me? You see, my poor boy, how I'm +sufferin', an' you see that I can't--I won't--be able to bear up against +this long." + +The tears here ran down his worn and hollow cheeks. + +"Oh," he proceeded, "how could I forget you, my darlin' boy? But I +hardly think my head's right. If I had you with me, an' before my eyes, +you'd keep my heart right, an' give me strength, which I stand sorely in +need of. Saints in glory! how could I forget you, acushla, an' what now +can I do for you? Not a penny have I to pay lawyer, or attorney, or any +one, to defind you at your trial, and it so near!" + +"Why, haven't you settled all that with Mr. Cassidy, the attorney?" + +"Not a bit, achora machree, not a bit; I was wid him this day, an' had +agreed, but whin I wint to give him an ordher on P----, he--oh saints +above! he whistled at me an' it--an' tould me that P----was gone to +that nest o' robbers, the Isle of Man." + +"Connor," said he, feebly, "I am unwell--unwell--come and sit down by +me." + +"You are too much distressed every way, father," said his son, taking +his place upon his iron bedstead beside him. + +"I am," said Fardorougha, calmly; "I am too much distressed--sit nearer +me, Connor. I wish your mother was here, but she wasn't able to come, +she's unwell too; a good mother she was, Connor, and a good wife." + +The son was struck, and somewhat alarmed, by this sudden and +extraordinary calmness of the old man. + +"Father dear," said he, "don't be too much disheartened--all will be +well yet, I hope--my trust in God is strong." + +"I hope all will be well," replied the old man, "sit nearer me, an' +Connor, let me lay my head over upon your breast. I'm thinkin' a great +dale. Don't the world say, Connor, that I am a bad man?" + +"I don't care what the world says; no one in it ever durst say as much +to me, father dear." + +The old man looked up affectionately, but shook his head apparently in +calm but rooted sorrow. + +"Put your arms about me, Connor, and keep my head a little more up; I'm +weak an' tired, an', someway, spakin's a throuble to me; let me think +for a while." + +"Do so, father," said the son, with deep compassion; "God knows but +you're sufferin' enough to wear you out." + +"It is," said Fardorougha, "it is." A silence of some minutes ensued, +during which, Connor perceived that the old man, overcome with care and +misery, had actually! fallen asleep with his head upon his bosom. This +circumstance, though by no means extraordinary, affected him very much. +On surveying the pallid face of his father, and the worn, thread--like +veins that ran along his temples, and calling to mind the love of the +old man for himself, which even avarice, in its deadliest power, failed +to utterly overcome, he felt all the springs of his affection loosened, +and his soul vibrated with a tenderness towards him, such as no +situation in their past lives had ever before created. + +"If my fate chances to be an untimely one, father dear," he slowly +murmured, "we'll soon meet in another place; for I know that you will +not long live after me." + +He then thought with bitterness of his mother and Una, and wondered at +the mystery of the trial to which he was exposed. + +The old man's slumber, however, was not dreamless, nor so refreshing +as the exhaustion of a frame shattered by the havoc of contending +principles required. On the contrary, it was disturbed by heavy groans, +quick startings, and those twitchings of the limbs which betoken a +restless mood of mind, and a nervous system highly excited. In the +course of half an hour, the symptoms of his inward commotion became +more apparent. From being, as at first, merely physical, they assumed +a mental character, anil passed from ejaculations and single words, to +short sentences, and ultimately to those of considerable length. + +"Gone!" he exclaimed, "gone! Oh God my curse--starved--dog--wid my tongue +out!" + +This dread of starvation, which haunted him through life, appeared in +his dream still to follow him like a demon. + +"I'm dyin'," he said, "I'm dyin' wid hunger--will no one give me a +morsel? I was robbed an' have no money--don't you see me starvin'? I'm +cuttin' wid hunger--five days without mate--bring me mate, for God's +sake--mate, mate, mate!--I'm gaspin--my tongue's out; look at me, like a +dog, behind this ditch, an' my tongue out!" + +The son at this period would have awoke him, but he became more +composed, for a time, and enjoyed apparently a refreshing sleep. Still, +it soon was evident that he dreamt, and as clear that a change had come +o'er the spirit of his dream. + +"Who'll prevent me!" he exclaimed. "Isn't he my son--our only child? Let +me alone--I must, I must--what's my life?--take it, an' let him live." + +The tears started in Connor's eyes, and he pressed his father to his +heart. + +"Don't hould me," he proceeded. "O God! here, I'll give all I'm worth, +an' save him! O, let me, thin--let me but kiss him once before he dies; +it was I, it was myself that murdhered him--all might 'a been well; ay, +it was I that murdhered you, Connor, my brave hoy, an' have I you in +my arms? O, aviek agus asthore machree, it was I that murdhered you, by +my--but they're takin' him--they're bearin' him away to--" + +He started, and awoke; but so terrific had been his dream, that on +opening his eyes he clasped Connor in his arms, and exclaimed,-- + +"No no, I'll hould him till you cut my grip; Connor, avick machree, +hould to me!" + +"Father, father, for God's sake, think a minute, you wor only dreaming." + +"Eh--what--where am I? Oh, Connor, darling, if you knew the dhrames I +had--I thought you wor on the scaffie; but thanks be to the Saver, it +was only a dhrame!" + +"Nothing more, father, nothing more; but for God's sake, keep your mind +aisy. Trust in God, father, everything's in _His_ hands; if; it's His +will to make us suffer, we ought to submit; and if it's not His will, +He surely can bring us out of all our throubles. That's the greatest +comfort I have." + +Fardorougha once more became calm, but still there was on his +countenance, which was mournful and full of something else than simple +sorrow, some deeply fixed determination, such as it was difficult to +develop. + +"Connor, achora," said he, "I must lave you, for there's little time +to be lost. What attorney would you wish me to employ? I'll go home and +sell oats and a cow or two. I've done you harm enough--more than you +know--but now I'll spare no cost to get you out of this business. +Connor, the tears that I saw awhile agone run down your cheeks cut me to +the heart." + +The son then informed him that a friend had taken proper measures for +his defence, and that any further interference on his part would only +create confusion and delay. He also entreated his father to make no +allusion whatsoever to this circumstance, and added, "that he himself +actually knew not the name of the friend in question, but that, as the +matter stood, he considered even a surmise to be a breach of confidence +that might be indelicate and offensive. After the trial, you can and +ought to pay the expenses, and not be under an obligation to any one of +so solemn a kind as that." He then sent his affectionate love and duty +to his mother, at whose name his eyes were again filled with tears, and +begged the old man to comfort and support her with the utmost care and +tenderness. As she was unwell, he requested him to dissuade her against +visiting him till after the trial, lest an interview might increase her +illness, and render her less capable of bearing up under an unfavorable +sentence, should such be the issue of the prosecution. Having then bade +farewell to, and embraced the old man, the latter departed with more +calmness and fortitude than he had up to that period displayed. + +When Time approaches the miserable with calamity in his train, his +opinion is swifter than that of the eagle; but, alas! when carrying them +towards happiness, his pace is slower than is that of the tortoise. The +only three persons on earth, whose happiness was involved in that of +O'Donovan, found themselves, on the eve of the assizes, overshadowed by +a dreariness of heart, that was strong in proportion to the love they +bore him. The dead calm which had fallen on Fardorougha was absolutely +more painful to his wife than would have been the paroxysms that +resulted from his lust of wealth. Since his last interview with Connor, +he never once alluded to the loss of his money, unless abruptly in +his dreams, but there was stamped upon his whole manner a gloomy and +mysterious composure, which, of itself, wofully sank her spirits, +independently of the fate which impended over their son. The change, +visible on both, and the breaking down of their strength were indeed +pitiable. + +As for Una, it would be difficult to describe her struggle between +confidence in his innocence, and apprehension of the law, which she knew +had often punished the guiltless instead of the criminal. 'Tis true she +attempted to assume, in the eyes of others, a fortitude which belied +her fears, and even affected to smile at the possibility of her lover's +honor and character suffering any tarnish from the ordeal to which they +were about to be submitted. Her smile, however, on such occasions, was +a melancholy one, and the secret tears she shed might prove, as they did +to her brother, who was alone privy to her grief, the extent of those +terrors which, notwithstanding her disavowal of them, wrung her soul +so bitterly. Day after day her spirits became more and more depressed, +till, as the crisis of Connor's fate arrived, the roses had altogether +flown from her cheeks. + +Indeed, now that the trial was at hand, public sympathy turned rapidly +and strongly in his favor; his father had lost that wealth, the +acquisition of which earned him so heavy a portion of infamy; and, as he +had been sufficiently punished in his own person, they did not think it +just to transfer any portion of the resentment borne against him to a +son who had never participated in his system of oppression. They felt +for Connor now on his own account, and remembered only his amiable and +excellent character. In addition to this, the history of the mutual +attachment between him and Una having become the topic of general +conversation, the rash act for which he stood committed was +good-humoredly resolved into a foolish freak of love; for which it +would be a thousand murders to take away his life. In such mood were the +public and the parties most interested in the event of our story, +when the morning dawned of that awful day which was to restore Connor +O'Donovan to the hearts that loved him so well, or to doom him, a +convicted felon, to a shameful and ignominious death. + +At length the trial came on, and our unhappy prisoner, at the hour of +eleven o'clock, was placed at the bar of his country to stand the brunt +of a government prosecution. Common report had already carried abroad +the story of Una's love and his, many interesting accounts of which had +got into the papers of the day. When he stood forward, therefore, all +eyes were eagerly riveted upon him; the judge glanced at him with calm, +dispassionate scrutiny, and the members of the bax, especially the +juniors, turned round, surveyed him through their glasses with a gaze +in which might be read something more than that hard indifference which +familiarity with human crime and affliction ultimately produces even in +dispositions most human and amiable. No sooner had the curiosity of the +multitude been gratified, than a murmur of pity, blended slightly with +surprise and approbation, ran lowly through the court-house. One of +the judges whispered a few words to his brother, and the latter again +surveyed Connor with a countenance in which were depicted admiration +and regret. The counsel also chatted to each other in a low tone, +occasionally turning round and marking his deportment and appearance +with increasing interest. + +Seldom, probably never, had a more striking, perhaps a more noble +figure, stood at the bar of that court. His locks were rich and brown; +his forehead expansive, and his manly features remarkable for their +symmetry; his teeth were regular and white, and his dark eye full of a +youthful lustre, which the dread of no calamity could repress. Neither +was his figure, which was of the tallest, inferior in a single point to +so fine a countenance. As he stood, at his full height of six feet, it +was impossible not to feel deeply influenced in his favor, especially +after having witnessed the mournful but dignified composure of his +manner, equally remote from indifference or dejection. He appeared, +indeed, to view in its proper light the danger of the position in which +he stood, but he viewed it with the calm, unshrinking energy of a +brave man who is always prepared for the worst. Indeed, there might be +observed upon his broad, open brow a loftiness of bearing such as is not +unfrequently produced by a consciousness of innocence, and the natural +elevation of mind which results from a sense of danger; to which we may +add that inward scorn which is ever felt for baseness, by those who are +degraded to the necessity of defending themselves against the villany of +the malignant and profligate. + +When called upon to plead to the indictment, he uttered the words "not +guilty" in a full, firm and mellow voice, that drew the eyes of the +spectators once more upon him, and occasioned another slight hum of +sympathy and admiration. No change of color was observable on his +countenance, or any other expression, save the lofty composure to which +we have just alluded. + +The trial at length proceeded; and, after a long and able statement from +the Attorney-General, Bartle Flanagan was called up on the table. The +prisoner, whose motions were keenly observed, betrayed, on seeing him, +neither embarrassment nor agitation; all that could be perceived was +a more earnest and intense light in his eyes, as they settled upon his +accuser. Flanagan detailed, with singular minuteness and accuracy, +the whole progress of the crime from its first conception to its +perpetration. Indeed, had he himself been in the dock, and his evidence +against Connor a confession of his own guilt, it would, with some +exceptions, have been literally true. He was ably cross-examined, but no +tact, or experience, or talent, on the part of the prisoner's counsel, +could, in any important degree, shake his testimony. The ingenuity +with which he laid and conducted the plot was astonishing, as was his +foresight, and the precaution he adopted against detection. Cassidy, +Connor's attorney, had ferreted out the very man from whom he purchased +the tinder-box, with a hope of proving that it was not the prisoner's +property but his own; yet this person, who remembered the transaction +very well, assured him that Flanagan said he procured it by the desire +of Fardorougha Donovan's son. + +During his whole evidence, he never once raised his eye to look upon the +prisoner's face, until he was desired to identify him. He then turned +round, and, standing with the rod in his hand, looked for some moments +upon his victim. His dark brows got black as night, whilst his cheeks +were blanched to the hue of ashes--the white smile as before sat upon +his lips, and his eyes, in which there blazed the unsteady fire of a +treacherous and cowardly heart, sparkled with the red turbid glare of +triumph and vengeance. He laid the rod upon Connor's head, and they +gazed at each other face to face, exhibiting as striking a contrast as +could be witnessed. The latter stood erect and unshaken--his eye calmly +bent upon that of his foe, but with a spirit in it that seemed to him +alone by whom it was best understood, to strike dismay into the very +soul of falsehood within him. The villain's eyes could not withstand the +glance of Connor's--they fell, and his whole countenance assumed such a +blank and guilty stamp, that an old experienced barrister, who watched +them both, could not avoid saying, that if he had his will they should +exchange situations. + +"I would not hang a dog," he whispered, "on that fellow's evidence--he +has guilt in his face." + +When asked why he ran away on meeting Phil. Curtis, near O'Brien's +house, on their return that night, while Connor held his ground, he +replied that it was very natural he should run away, and not wish to +be seen after having assisted at such a crime. In reply to another +question, he said it was as natural that Connor should have ran away +also, and that he could not account for it, except by the fact that God +always occasions the guilty to commit some oversight, by which they +may be brought to punishment. These replies, apparently so rational and +satisfactory, convinced Connor's counsel that his case was hopeless, and +that no skill or ingenuity on their part could succeed in breaking down +Flanagan's evidence. + +The next witness called was Phil. Curtis, whose testimony corroborated +Bartle's in every particular, and gave to the whole trial a character of +gloom and despair. The constables who applied his shoes to the footmarks +were then produced, and swore in the clearest manner as to their +corresponding. They then deposed to finding the tinder-box in his +pocket, according to the information received from Flanagan, every +tittle of which they found to be remarkably correct. + +There was only one other witness now necessary to complete the +chain against him, and he was only produced because Biddy Nulty, the +servant--maid, positively stated, and actually swore, when previously +examined, that she was ignorant whether Connor slept in his father's +house on the night in question or not. There was no alternative, +therefore, but to produce the father; and Fardorougha Donovan was +consequently forced to become an evidence against his own son. + +The old man's appearance upon the table excited deep commiseration for +both, and the more so when the spectators contemplated the rooted sorrow +which lay upon the wild and wasted features of the woe-worn father. +Still the old man was composed and calm; but his calmness was in an +extraordinary degree mournful and touching. "When he, sat down, after +having been sworn, and feebly wiped the dew from his thin temples, many +eyes were already filled with tears. When the question was put to him if +he remembered the night laid in the indictment, he replied that he did. + +"Did the prisoner at the bar sleep at home on that night?" + +The old man looked into the face of the counsel with such an eye of +deprecating entreaty, as shook the voice in which the question was +repeated. He then turned about, and, taking a long gaze at his son, rose +up, and, extending his hands to the judges, exclaimed: + +"My lords, my lords! he is my only son--my only child!" + +These words were followed by a pause in the business of the court, and a +dead silence of more than a minute. + +"If justice," said the judge, "could on an occasion waive her claim to a +subordinate link in the testimony she requires, it would certainly be +in a case so painful and affecting as this. Still, we cannot permit +personal feeling, however amiable, or domestic attachment, however +strong, to impede her progress when redressing public wrong. Although +the duty be painful, and we admit that such a duty is one of unexampled +agony, yet it must be complied with; and you consequently will answer +the question which the counsel has put to you. The interests of society +require such sacrifices, and they must be made." + +The old man kept his eyes fixed on the judge while he spoke, but when he +had ceased he again fixed them on his son. + +"My lord," he exclaimed again, with clasped hands, "I can't, I can't!" + +"There is nothing criminal, or improper, or sinful in it," replied the +judge; "on the contrary, it is your duty, both as a Christian and a man. +Remember, you have this moment sworn to tell the truth, and the whole +truth; you consequently must keep your oath." + +"What you say, sir, may be right, an' of coorse is; but oh, my lord, +I'm not able; I can't get out the words to hang my only boy. If I said +anything to hurt him, my heart 'ud break before your eyes. May be you +don't know the love of a father for an only son?" + +"Perhaps, my lords," observed the attorney-general, "it would be +desirable to send for a clergyman of his own religion, who might succeed +in prevailing on him to--" + +"No," interrupted Fardorougha; "my mind's made up; a word against him +will never come from my lips, not for priest or friar. I'd die widout +the saykerment sooner." + +"This is trifling with the court," said the judge, assuming an air of +severity, which, however, he did not feel. "We shall be forced to commit +you to prison unless you give evidence." + +"My lord," said Fardorougha, meekly, but firmly, "I am willin' to go to +prison--I am willin' to die with him, if he is to die, but I neither can +nor will open my lips against him. If I thought him guilty I might; but +I know he is innocent--my heart knows it; an' am I to back the villain +that's strivin' to swear his life away? No, Connor avourneen, whatever +they do to you, your father will have no hand in it." + +The court, in fact, were perplexed in the extreme. The old man was not +only firm, from motives of strong attachment, but intractable from an +habitual narrowness of thought, which prevented him from taking that +comprehensive view of justice and judicial authority which might +overcome the repugnance of men less obstinate from ignorance of legal +usages. + +"I ask you for the last time," said the judge, "will you give your +evidence? because, if you refuse, the court will feel bound to send you +to prison." + +"God bless you, my lord! that's a relief to my heart. Anything, +anything, but to say a word against a boy that, since the day he was +born, never vexed either his mother or myself. If he gets over this, +I have much to make up to him; for, indeed, I wasn't the father to him +that I ought. Avick machree, now I feel it, may be whin it's too late." + +These words affected all who heard them, many even to tears. + +"I have no remedy," observed the judge. "Tipstaff, take away the witness +to prison. It is painful to me," he added, in a broken voice, "to feel +compelled thus to punish you for an act which, however I may respect the +motives that dictate it, I cannot overlook. The ends of justice cannot +be frustrated." + +"Mylord," exclaimed the prisoner, "don't punish the old man for refusing +to speak against me. His love for me is so strong that I know he +couldn't do it. I will state the truth myself, but spare him. I did not +sleep in my own bed on the night Mr. O' Brien's haggard was burned, nor +on the night before it. I slept in my father's barn, with Flanagan; both +times at his own request but I did not then suspect his design in asking +me." + +"This admission, though creditable to your affection and filial duty, +was indiscreet," observed the judge. "Whatever you think might be +serviceable, suggest to your attorney, who can communicate it to your +counsel." + +"My lord," said Connor, "I could not see my father punished for loving +me as he does an' besides I have no wish to conceal anything. If the +whole truth could be known I would stand but a short time where I an nor +would Flanagan be long out of it." + +There is an earnest and impressive tone in truth, especially when +spoken under circumstances of great difficulty, where it is rather +disadvantageous to him who utters it, that in many instances produces +conviction by an inherent candor which all feel, without as process +of reasoning or argument. Theis was in those few words a warmth of +affection towards his father, and a manly simplicity heart, each of +which was duly appreciated by the assembly about him, who felt, without +knowing why, the indignant scorn of falsehood that so emphatically +pervaded his expressions. It was indeed impossible to hear them, and +look upon his noble countenance and figure, without forgetting the +humbleness of his rank in life, and feeling for him a marked deference +and respect. + +The trial then proceeded; but, alas! the hopes of Connor's friends +abandoned them at its conclusion; for although the judge's charge was +as favorable as the nature of the evidence permitted, yet it was quite +clear that the jury had only one course to pursue, and that was to +bring in a conviction. After the lapse of about ten minutes, they +returned to the jury--box, and, as the foreman handed down their +verdict, a feather might have been heard falling in the court. The faces +of the spectators got pale, and the hearts of strong men beat as if the +verdict about to be announced were to fall upon themselves, and not +upon the prisoner. It is at all times an awful and trying ceremony to +witness, but on this occasion it was a much more affecting one than had +occurred in that court for many years. As the foreman handed down the +verdict, Connor's eye followed the paper with the same calm resolution +which he displayed during the trial. On himself there was no change +visible, unless the appearance of two round spots, one on each cheek, of +a somewhat deeper red than the rest. At length, in the midst of the dead +silence, pronounced in a voice that reached to the remotest extremity of +the court, was heard the fatal sentence--"Guilty;" and afterwards, in +a less distinct manner--"with our strongest and most earnest +recommendation for mercy, in consequence of his youth and previous good +character." The wail and loud sobbings of the female part of the crowd, +and the stronger but more silent grief of the men, could not, for many +minutes, be repressed by any efforts of the court or its officers. In +the midst of this, a little to the left of the dock, was an old man, +whom those around him were conveying in a state of insensibility out of +the court; and it was obvious that, from motives of humane consideration +for the prisoner, they endeavored to prevent him from ascertaining that +it was his father. In this, however, they failed; the son's eye caught a +glimpse of his grey locks, and it was observed that his cheek paled +for the first time, indicating, by a momentary change, that the only +evidence of agitation he betrayed was occasioned by sympathy in the old +man's sorrows, rather than by the contemplation of his own fate. + +The tragic spirit of the day, however, was still to deepen, and a more +stunning blow, though less acute in its agony, was to fall upon the +prisoner. The stir of the calm and solemn jurors, as they issued out +of their room; the hushed breaths of the spectators, the deadly silence +that prevails, and the appalling announcement of the word "Guilty," are +circumstances that test in man fortitude, more even than the passing of +the fearful sentence itself. In the latter case, hope is banished, and +the worst that can happen known; the mind is, therefore, thrown back +upon its last energies, which give it strength in the same way in which +the death-struggle frequently arouses the muscular action of the I +body--an unconscious power or resistance that forces the culprit's heart +to take refuge in the first and strongest instincts of its nature, +the undying principle of self-preservation. No sooner was the verdict +returned and silence obtained, than the judge, now deeply affected, put +on the black cap, at which a low wild murmur of stifled grief and pity +rang through the court-house; but no sooner was his eye bent on the +prisoner than their anxiety to hear the sentence hushed them once more +into the stillness of the grave. The prisoner looked upon him with an +open but melancholy gaze, which, from the candid and manly character of +his countenance, was touching in the extreme. + +"Connor O'Donovan," said the judge, "have you anything to say why +sentence of death should not be passed upon you?" + +"My lord," he replied, "I can say nothing to prevent it. I am prepared +for it. I know I must bear it, and I hope I will bear it as a man ought, +that feels his heart free from even a thought of the crime he is to die +for. I have nothing more to say." + +"You have this day been found guilty," proceeded the judge, "and, in the +opinion of the court, upon clear and satisfactory evidence, of a crime +marked by a character of revenge, which I am bound to say must have +proceeded from a very malignant spirit. It was a wanton act, for the +perpetration of which your motives were so inadequate, that one must +feel at a loss to ascertain the exact principle on which you committed +it. It was also not only a wicked act, but one so mean, that a young man +bearing the character of spirit and generosity which you have hitherto +borne, as appears from the testimony of those respectable persons who +this day have spoken in your favor, ought to have scorned to contemplate +it even for a moment. Had the passion you entertained for the daughter +of the man you so basely injured, possessed one atom of the dignity, +disinterestedness, or purity of true affection, you never could have +stooped to any act offensive to the object of your love, or to those +even in the remotest degree related to her. The example, consequently, +which you have held out to society, is equally vile and dangerous. A +parent discharges the most solemn and important of all duties, when +disposing of his children in marriage, because by that act he seals +their happiness or misery in this life, and most probably in that which +is to come. By what tie, by what duty, by what consideration, is not a +parent bound to consult the best interests of those beloved beings whom +he has brought into the world, and who, in a great measure, depend upon +him as their dearest relative, their guardian by the voice of nature, +for the fulfilment of those expectations upon which depend the principal +comforts and enjoyments of life? Reason, religion, justice, instinct, +the whole economy of nature, both in man and the inferior animals, all +teach him to secure for them, as far as in him lies, the greatest sum +of human happiness; but if there be one duty more sacred and tender than +another, it is that which a parent is called upon to exercise on behalf +of a daughter. The son, impressed by that original impulse which moves +him to assume a loftier place in the conduct of life, and gifted also +with a stronger mind, and clearer judgment, to guide him in its varied +transactions, goes abroad into society, and claims for himself a bolder +right of thought and a wider range of action, while determining an event +which is to exercise, as marriage does, such an important influence upon +his own future condition, and all the relations that may arise out of +it. From this privilege the beautiful and delicate framework of woman's +moral nature debars her, and she is consequently forced, by the graces +of her own modesty--by the finer texture of her mind--by her greater +purity and gentleness--in short, by all her virtues, into a tenderer +and more affecting dependence upon the judgment and love of her natural +guardians, whose pleasure is made, by a wise decree of God, commensurate +with their duty in providing for her wants and enjoyments. There is no +point of view in which the parental character shines forth with greater +beauty than that in which it appears while working for and promoting the +happiness of a daughter. But you, it would seem, did not think so. You +punished the father by a dastardly and unmanly act, for guarding the +future peace and welfare of a child so young, and so dear to him. What +would become of society if this exercise of a parent's right on behalf +of his daughter were to be visited upon him as a crime, by every +vindictive and disappointed man, whose affection for them he might, upon +proper grounds, decline to sanction? Yet it is singular, and, I confess, +almost inexplicable to me at least, why you should have rushed into the +commission of such an act. The brief period of your existence has +been stained by no other crime. On the contrary, you have maintained +a character far above your situation in life--a character equally +remarkable for gentleness, spirit, truth, and affection--all of which +your appearance and bearing have this day exhibited. Your countenance +presents no feature expressive of ferocity, or of those headlong +propensities which lead to outrage; and I must confess, that on no +other occasion in my judicial life have I ever felt my judgment and my +feelings so much at issue. I cannot doubt your guilt, but I shed those +tears that it ever existed, and that a youth of so much promise should +be cut down prematurely by the strong arm of necessary justice, +leaving his bereaved parents bowed down with despair that can never +be comforted. Had they another son--or another child, to whom their +affections could turn--" + +Here the judge felt it necessary to pause, in consequence of his +emotions. Strong feelings had, indeed, spread through the whole court, +in which, while he ceased, could be heard low moanings, and other +symptoms of acute sorrow. + +"It is now your duty to forget every earthly object on which your heart +may have been fixed, and to seek that source of consolation and mercy +which can best sustain and comfort you. Go with a penitent heart to the +throne of your Redeemer, who, if your repentance be sincere, will in no +wise cast you out. Unhappy youth, prepare yourself, let me implore you, +for an infinitely greater and more awful tribunal than this. There, +should the judgment be in your favor, you will learn that the fate, +which has cut you off in the bloom of early life, will bring an +accession of happiness to your being for which no earthly enjoyment +here, however prolonged or exalted, could compensate you. The +recommendation of the jury to the mercy of the crown, in consideration +of your youth and previous good conduct, will not be overlooked; but in +the mean time the court is bound to pronounce upon you the sentence +of the law, which is, that you be taken from the prison from which you +came, on the eighth of next month, at the hour of ten o'clock in the +forenoon, to the front drop of the jail, and there hanged by the neck, +until you be dead; and may God have mercy on your soul!" + +"My lord," said the prisoner, unmoved in voice or in manner, unless it +might be that both expressed more decision and energy than he had shown +during any other part of the trial; "my lord, I am now a condemned man, +but if I stood with the rope about my neck, ready to die, I would not +exchange situations with the man that has: been my accuser. My lord, +I can forgive him, and I ought, for I know he has yet to die, and +must meet his God. As for myself, I am thankful that I have not such a +conscience as his to bring before my Judge; and for this reason I am not +afraid to die." + +He was then removed amidst a murmur of grief, as deep and sincere as +was ever expressed for a human being under circumstances of a similar +character. After having! entered the prison, he was about to turn along +a passage which led to the apartment hitherto allotted to him. + +"This way," said the turnkey, "this way; God knows I would be glad to +let you stop in the room you had, but I haven't the power. We must put +you into one of the condemned cells; but by ---, it'll go hard if I +don't stretch a little to make you as comfortable I as possible. + +"Take no trouble," said Connor, "take no trouble. I care now but little +about my own comfort; but if you wish to oblige me, bring me my father. +Oh, my mother, my mother!--you, I doubt, are struck down already!" + +"She was too ill to attend the trial to-day," replied the turnkey. + +"I know it," said Connor; "but as she's not here, bring me my father. +Send out a messenger for him, and be quick, for I wont rest till I see +him--he wants comfort--the old man's heart will break." + +"I heard them say," replied the turnkey, after they had entered the cell +allotted to him, "that he was in a faint at Mat Corrigan's public house, +but that he had recovered. I'll go myself and bring him in to you." + +"Do," said Connor, "an' leave us the moment you bring him." + +It was more than an hour before the man I returned, holding Fardorougha +by the arm, and, after having left him in the cell, he instantly locked +it outside, and withdrew as he had been desired. Connor ran to support +his tottering steps; and wofully indeed did unfortunate parent stand +in need of his assistance. In the picture presented by Fardorougha the +unhappy young man forgot in a moment his own miserable and gloomy fate. +There blazed in his father's eyes an excitement at once dead and wild--a +vague fire without character, yet stirred by an incomprehensible energy +wholly beyond the usual manifestations of thought or suffering. The son +on beholding him shuddered, and not for the first time, for he had on +one or two occasions before become apprehensive that his father's mind +might, if strongly pressed, be worn down, by the singular conflict +of which it was that scene, to that most frightful of all +maladies--insanity. As the old man, however, folded him in his feeble +arms, and attempted to express what he felt, the unhappy boy groaned +aloud, and felt even in the depth of his cell, a blush of momentary +shame suffuse his cheek and brow. His father, notwithstanding the +sentence that had been so shortly before passed upon his son--that +father, he perceived to be absolutely intoxicated, or, to use a more +appropriate expression, decidedly drunk. There was less blame, however, +to be attached to Fardorougha on this occasion, than Connor imagined. +When the old man swooned in the court-house, he was taken by his +neighbors to a public-house, where he lay for some minutes in a state of +insensibility. On his recovery he was plied with burnt whiskey, as well +to restore his strength and prevent a relapse, as upon the principle +that it would enable him to sustain with more firmness the dreadful and +shocking destiny which awaited his son. Actuated by motives of mistaken +kindness, they poured between two and three glasses of this fiery +cordial down his throat, which, as he had not taken so much during the +lapse of thirty years before, soon reduced the feeble old man to the +condition in which we have described him when entering the gloomy cell +of the prisoner. + +"Father," said Connor, "in the name of Heaven above, who or what has put +you into this dreadful state, especially when we consider the hard, hard +fate that is over us, and upon us?" + +"Connor," returned Fardorougha, not perceiving the drift of his +question, "Connor, my son, I'll hang--hang him, that's one comfort." + +"Who are you spaking about?" + +"The villain sentence was passed on to--to--day. He'll swing--swing for +the robbery; P----e will. We got him back out of that nest of robbers, +the Isle o' Man--o' Man they call it--that he made off to, the villain!" + +"Father dear, I'm sorry to see you in this state on sich a day--sich a +black day to us. For your sake I am. What will the world say of it?" + +"Connor, I'm in great spirits all out, exceptin' for something that I +forget, that--that--li--lies heavy upon me. That I mayn't sin, but I +am--I am, indeed--for now that we've cotch him, we'll hang the villain +up. Ha, ha, ha, it's a pleasant sight to see sich a fellow danglin' from +a rope!" + +"Father, sit down here, sit down here upon this bad and comfortless bed, +and keep yourself quiet for a little. Maybe you'll get better soon. Oh, +why did you drink, and us in such trouble?" + +"I'll not sit down; I'm very well able to stand," said he, tottering +across the room. "The villain thought to starve me, Connor, but you +heard the sentence that was passed on him to-day. Where's Honor, from +me? she'll be glad, whin--whin she hears it, and my son, Connor, will +too--but he's, he's--where is Connor?--bring me, bring me to Connor. Ah, +avourneen, Honor's heart's breaking for him--'t any rate, the mother's +heart--the mother's heart--she's laid low wid an achin', sorrowful head +for her boy." + +"Father, for God's sake, will you try and rest a little? If you could +sleep, father dear, if you could sleep." + +"I'll hang P----e--I'll hang him--but if he gives me back my money, I'll +not touch him. Who are you?" + +"Father dear, I'm Connor, your own son, Connor." + +"I'll marry you and Una, then. I'll settle all the villain robbed me +of on you, and you'll have every penny of it _after my death_. Don't be +keepin' me up, I can walk very well; ay, an' I'm in right good spirits. +Sure, the money's got, Connor--got back every skilleen of it. Ha, ha, +ha, God be praised! God be praised! We've a right to be thankful--the +world isn't so bad afther all." + +"Father, will you try and rest?" + +"It's not bad, afther all--I won't starve, as I thought I would, now +that the _arrighad_ is got back from the villain. Ha, ha, ha, it's +great, Connor, ahagur!" + +"What is it, father dear." + +"Connor, sing me a song--my heart's up--it's light--arn't you +glad?--sing me a song." + +"If you'll sleep first, father dear." + +"The _Uligone_, Connor, or _Shuilagra_, or the _Trougha_--for, +avourneen, avourneen, there must be sorrow in it, for my heart's low, +and your mother's heart's in sorrow, an' she's lyin' far from us, an' +her boy's not near her, an' her heart's sore, sore, and her head achin', +bekase her boy's far from her, and she can't come to him!" + +The boy, whose noble fortitude was unshaken during the formidable trial +it had encountered in the course of that day, now felt overcome by +this simple allusion to his mother's love. He threw his arms about his +father's neck, and, placing his head upon his bosom, wept aloud for +many, many minutes. + +"Hiisth, Connor, husth, asthore--what makes you cry? Sure, all 'ill +be right now that we've got back the money. Eh? Ha, ha, ha, it's great +luck, Connor, isn't it great? An' you'll have it, you an' Una, _afther +my death_--for I won't starve for e'er a one o' yees." + +"Father, father, I wish you would rest." + +"Well, I will, avick, I will--bring me to bed--you'll sleep in your own +bed to-night. Your poor mother's head hasn't been off of the place where +your own lay, Connor. No, indeed; her heart's low--it's breakin'--it's +breakin'--but she won't let anybody make your bed but herself. Oh, the +mother's love, Connor--that mother's love, that mother's love--but, +Connor--" + +"Well, father, dear." + +"Isn't there something wrong, avick: isn't there something not right, +somehow?" + +This question occasioned the son to feel as if his heart would literally +burst to pieces, especially when he considered the circumstances under +which the old man put it. Indeed, there was something so transcendently +appalling in his intoxication, and in the wild but affecting tone of his +conversation, that, when joined to his pallid and spectral appearance, +it gave a character, for the time being, of a mood that struck the heart +with an image more frightful than that of madness itself. + +"Wrong, father!" he replied, "all's wrong, and I can't understand it. +It's wel for you that you don't know the doom that's upon us now, for +I feel how it would bring you down, and how it will, too. It will kill +you, my father--it will kill you." + +"Connor, come home, avick, come home--I'm tired at any rate--come home +to you mother--come, for her sake--I know I'm not at home, an' she'll +not rest till I bring you safe back to her. Come now, I'll have no put +offs--you must come, I say--I ordher you--I can't and won't meet her wid +out you. Come, avick, an' you can sing mi the song goin' home--come wid +your owi poor ould father, that can't live widout you--come, a sullish +machree, I don't feel right here--we won't be properly happy till we go +to your lovin' mother." + +"Father, father, you don't know what you're making me suffer! What +heart, blessed heaven, can bear--" + +The door of his cell here opened, and the turnkey stated that some five +or six of his friends were anxious to see him, and, above all things, to +take charge of his father to his own home. This was a manifest relief to +the young man, who then felt more deeply on his unhappy father's account +than on his own. + +"Some foolish friends," said he, "have given my father liquor, an' +it has got into his head--indeed, it overcame him the more as I never +remember him to taste a drop of spirits during his life before. I can +see no body now an' him in this state; but if they wish me well, let +them take care of him, and leave him safe at his own house, and tell +them I'll be glad if I can see them tomorrow, or any other time." + +With considerable difficulty Fardorougha was removed from Connor, whom +he clung to with all his strength, attempting also to drag him away. He +then wept bitterly, because he declined to accompany him home, that he +might comfort his mother, and enjoy the imagined recovery of his +money from P----e, and the conviction which he believed they had just +succeeded in getting against that notorious defaulter. + +After they had departed, Connor sat down upon his hard pallet, and, +supporting his head with his hand, saw, for the first time, in all its +magnitude and horror, the death to which he found himself now doomed. +The excitement occasioned by his trial, and his increasing firmness, as +it darkened on through all its stages to the final sentence, now had--in +a considerable degree abandoned him, and left his heart, at present, +more accessible to natural weakness than it it had been to the power of +his own affections. The image of his early-loved Una had seldom since +his arrest been out of his imagination. Her youth, her beauty, her wild +but natural grace, and the flashing glances of her dark enthusiastic +eye, when joined to her tenderness and boundless affection for +himself--all caused his heart to quiver with deadly anguish through +every fibre. This produced a transition to Flanagan--the contemplation +of whose perfidious vengeance made him spring from his seat in a +paroxysm of indignant but intense hatred, so utterly furious that the +swelling tempest which it sent through his veins caused him to reel with +absolute giddiness. + +"Great God!" he exclaimed, "you are just, and will this be suffered?" + +He then thought of his parents, and the fiery mood of his mind changed +to one of melancholy and sorrow. He looked back upon his aged father's +enduring struggle--upon the battle of the old man's heart against the +accursed vice which had swayed its impulses so long--on the protracted +conflict between the two energies, which, like contending fivmies in +the field, had now left little but ruin and desolation behind them. His +heart, when he brought all these things near him, expanded, and like a +bird, folded its wings about the gray-haired martyr to the love he bore +him. But his mother--the caressing, the proud, the affectionate, whose +heart, in the vivid tenderness of hope for her beloved boy, had shaped +out his path in life, as that on which she could brood with the fondness +of a loving and delighted spirit--that mother's image, and the idea +of her sorrows prostrated his whole strength, like that of a stricken +infant, to the earth. + +"Mother, mother," he exclaimed, "when I think of what you reared me for, +and what I am this night, how can my heart do otherwise than break, as +well on your account as on my own, and for all that love us! Oh! what +will become of you, my blessed mother? Hard does it go with you that +you're not about your pride, as you used to call me, now that I'm in +this trouble, in this fate that is soon to cut me down from your loving +arms! The thought of you is dear to my heart, dear, dearer, dearer than +that of any--than my own Una. What will become of her, too, and the +old man? Oh, why, why is it that the death I am to suffer is to fall so +heavily on them that love me best?" + +He then returned to his bed, but the cold and dreary images of death +and ruin haunted his imagination, until the night was far spent, when at +length he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. + +By the sympathy expressed at his trial, our readers may easily conceive +the profound sorrow which was felt for him, in the district where he +was known, from the moment the knowledge of his sentence had gone abroad +among the people. This was much strengthened by that which, whether in +man or woman, never fails to create an amiable prejudice in its favor--I +mean youth and personal beauty. His whole previous character was now +canvassed with a mournful lenity that brought out his virtues into +beautiful relief; and the fate of the affectionate son was deplored +no less than that of the youthful, but rash and inconsiderate lover. +Neither was the father without his share of compassion, for they could +not forget that, despite of all his penury and extortion, the old man's +heart had been fixed, with a strong but uncouth affection, upon his +amiable and only boy. It was, however, when they thought of his mother, +in whose heart of hearts he had been enshrined as the idol of her +whole affection, that their spirits became truly touched. Many a mother +assumed in her own person, by the force of imagination, the sinking +woman's misery, and poured forth, in unavailing tears, the undeniable +proofs of the sincerity with which she participated in Honor's +bereavement. As for Flanagan, a deadly weight of odium, such as is +peculiar to the Informer in Ireland, fell upon both him and his. Nor was +this all. Aided by that sagacity which is so conspicuous in Irishmen, +when a vindictive or hostile feeling is excited among them, they +depicted Flanagan's character with an accuracy and truth astonishingly +correct and intuitive. Numerous were the instances of cowardice, +treachery, and revenge remembered against him, by those who had been his +close and early companions, not one of which would have ever occurred +to them, were it not that their minds had been thrown back upon the +scrutiny by the melancholy fate in which he had involved the unhappy +Connor O'Donovan. Had he been a mere ordinary witness in the matter, +he would have experienced little of this boiling indignation at their +hands; but first to participate in the guilt, and afterwards, for the +sake of the reward, or from a worse and more flagitious motive, to turn +upon him, and become his accuser, even to the taking away of the young +man's life--to stag against his companion and accomplice--this was +looked upon as a crime ten thousand times more black and damnable than +that for which the unhappy culprit had been consigned to so shameful a +death. + +But, alas, of what avail was all this sympathy and indignation to the +unfortunate youth himself or to those most deeply interested in his +fate? Would not the very love and sorrow felt towards her son fall upon +his mother's heart with a heavier weight of bitterness and agony? Would +not his Una's soul be wounded on that account with a sharper and more +deadly pang of despair and misery? It would, indeed, be difficult to say +whether the house of Bodagh Buie or that of Fardorougha was then in the +deeper sorrow. On the morning of Connor's trial, Una arose at an earlier +hour than usual, and it was observed when she sat at breakfeast, +that her cheek was at one moment pale as death, and again flushed +and feverish. These symptoms were first perceived by her affectionate +brother, who, on witnessing the mistakes she made in pouring out the +tea, exchanged a glance with his parents, and afterwards asked her to +allow him to take her place. She laid down the tea-pot, and, looking him +mournfully in the face, attempted to smile at a request so unusual. + +"Una, dear," said he, "you must allow me. There is no necessity for +attempting to conceal what you feel--we all know it--and if we did not, +the fact of your having filled the sugar-bowl instead of the tea-cup +would soon discover it." + +She said nothing, but looked at him again, as if she scarcely +comprehended what he said. A glance, however, at the sugar-bowl +convinced her that she was incapable of performing the usual duties of +the breakfast table. Hitherto she had not raised her eyes to her father +or mother's face, nor spoken to them as had been her wont, when meeting +at that strictly domestic meal. The unrestrained sobbings of the mother +now aroused her for the first time, and on looking up, she saw her +father wiping away the big tears from his eyes. + +"Una, avourneen," said the worthy man, "let John make tay for us--for, +God help you, you can't do it. Don't fret, achora machree, don't, don't, +Una; as God is over me, I'd give all I'm worth to save him, for your +sake." + +She looked at her father and smiled again; but that smile cut him to the +heart. + +"I will make the tea myself, father," she replied, "and I _won't_ commit +any more mistakes;" and as she spoke she unconsciously poured the tea +into the slop--bowl. + +"Avourneen," said her mother, "let John do it; acushla machree, let him +do it." + +She then rose, and without uttering a word, passively and silently +placed herself on her brother's chair--he having, at the same time, +taken that on which she sat. + +"Una," said her father, taking her hand, "you must be a good girl, and +you must have courage; and whatever happens, my darling, you'll pluck up +strength, I hope, and bear it." + +"I hope so, father," said she, "I hope so." + +"But, avourneen machree," said her mother, "I would rather see you +cryin' fifty times over, than smilin' the way you do." + +"Mother," said she, "my heart is sore--my heart is sore." + +"It is, ahagur machree; and your hand is tremblin' so much that you +can't bring the tay--cup to your mouth; but, then, don't smile so +sorrowfully, anein machree." + +"Why should I cry, mother?" she replied; "I know that Connor is +innocent. If I knew him to be guilty, I would weep, and I ought to +weep." + +"At all events, Una," said her father, "you know it's the government, +and not us, that's prosecuting him." + +To this Una made no reply, but, thrusting away her cup, she looked with +the same mournful smile from one to the other of the little circle about +her. At length she spoke. + +"Father, I have a request to ask of you." + +"If it's within my power, Una darling, I'll grant it; and if it's not, +it'll go hard with me but I'll bring it within my power. What is it, +asthore machree?" + +"In case he's found guilty, to let John put off his journey to Maynooth, +and stay with me for some time--it won't be long I'll keep him." + +"If it pleases you, darling, he'll never put his foot into Maynooth +again." + +"No," said the mother, "dhamnho to the step, if you don't wish him." + +"Oh, no, no," said Una, "it's only for a while." + +"Unless she desires it, I will never go," replied the loving brother; +"nor will I ever leave you in your sorrow, my beloved and only +sister--never--never--so long as a word from my lips can give you +consolation." + +The warm tears coursed each other down his cheeks as he spoke, and both +his parents, on looking at the almost blighted flower before them, wept +as if the hand of death had already been upon her. + +"Father, and John are going to his trial," she observed; "for me I like +to be alone;--alone; but when you return to-night, let John break it to +me. I'll go now to the garden. I'll walk about to-day--only before you +go, John, I want to speak to you." + +Calmly and without a tear, she then left the parlor, and proceeded +to the garden, where she began to dress and ornament the hive which +contained the swarm that Connor had brought to her on the day their +mutual attachment was first disclosed to each other. + +"Father," said John, when she had gone, "I'm afraid that Una's heart +is broken, or if not broken, that she won't survive his conviction +long--it's breaking fast--for my part, in her present state, I neither +will nor can leave her." + +The affectionate father made no reply, but, putting his handkerchief to +his eyes, wept, as did her mother, in silent but bitter grief. + +"I cannot spake about it, nor think of it, John," said he, after some +time, "but we must do what we can for her." + +"If anything happens her," said the mother, "I'd never get over it. Oh +marciful Savior! how could we live widout her?" + +"I would rather see her in tears," said John--"I would rather see her +in outrageous grief a thousand times than in the calm but ghastly +resolution with which she is bearing herself up against the trial of +this day. If he's condemned to death, I'm afraid that either her health +or reason will sink under it, and, in that case, God pity her and us, +for how, as you say, mother, could we afford to lose her? Still let us +hope for the best. Father, it's time to prepare; get the car ready. I am +going to the garden, to hear what the poor thing has to say to me, but I +will be with you soon." + +Her brother found her, as we have said, engaged calmly, and with a +melancholy pleasure, in adorning the hive which, on Connor's account, +had become her favorite. He was not at all sorry that she had proposed +this short interview, for, as his hopes of Connor's acquittal were +but feeble, if, indeed, he could truly be said to entertain any, he +resolved, by delicately communicating his apprehensions, to gradually +prepare her mind for the worst that might happen. + + + + +PART V. + +On hearing his step she raised her head, and advancing towards +the middle of the garden, took his arm, and led him towards the +summer--house in which Connor and she had first acknowledged their love. +She gazed wistfully upon it after they entered, and wrung her hands, but +still shed no tears. + +"Una," said her brother, "you had something to say to me; what is it, +darling?" + +She glanced timidly at him, and blushed. + +"You won't be angry with me, John," she replied; "would it be proper for +me to--to go"-- + +"What! to be present at the trial? Dear Una, you cannot think of it. +It would neither be proper nor prudent, and you surely would not be +considered indelicate? Besides, even were it not so, your strength is +unequal to it. No, no, Una dear; dismiss it from your thoughts." + +"I fear I could not stand it, indeed, John, even if it were proper; but +I know not what to do; there is a weight like death upon my heart. If I +could shed a tear it would relieve me; but I cannot." + +"It is probably better you should feel so, Una, than to entertain hopes +upon the matter that may be disappointed. It is always wisest to prepare +for the worst, in order to avoid the shock that may come upon us, and +which always falls heaviest when it comes contrary to our expectations." + +"I do not at all feel well," she replied, "and I have been thinking of +the best way to break this day's tidings to me, when you come home. If +he's cleared, say, good-humoredly, 'Una, all's lost;' and if--if not, +oh, desire me--say to me, 'Una, you had better go to bed, and let yaur +mother go with you;' that will be enough; I will go to bed, and if ever +I rise from it again, it will not be from a love of life." + +The brother, seeing that conversation on the subject of her grief only +caused her to feel more deeply, deemed it better to terminate than to +continue a dialogue which only aggravated her sufferings. + +"I trust and hope, dear Una," he said, "that you will observe my +father's advice, and make at least a worthy effort to support yourself, +under what certainly is a heavy affliction to you, in a manner becoming +your own character. For his sake--for my mother's, and for mine, too, +endeavor to have courage; be firm--and, Una, if you take my advice, +you'll pray to God to strengthen you; for, after all, there is no +support in the moment of distress and sorrow, like His." + +"But is it not strange, John, that such heavy misfortunes should fall +upon two persons so young, and who deserve it so little?" + +"It may be a trial sent for your advantage and his; who can say but it +may yet end for the good of you both? At present, indeed, there is no +probability of its ending favorably, and, even should it not, we are +bound to bear with patience such dispensations as the Great Being, to +whom we owe our existence, and of whose ways we know so little, may +think right to lay upon us. Now, God bless you, and support you, dear, +till I see you again. I must go; don't you hear the jaunting-car driving +up to the gate; be firm--dear Una--be firm, and good--by!" + +Never was a day spent under the influence of a more terrible suspense +than that which drank up the strength of this sinking girl during +the trial of her lover. Actuated by a burning and restless sense of +distraction, she passed from place to place with that mechanical step +which marks those who seek for comfort in vain. She retired to her +apartment and strove to pray; but the effort was fruitless; the +confusion of her mind rendered connection and continuity of thought and +language impossible. At one moment she repaired to the scenes where they +had met, and again with a hot and aching brain, left them with a shudder +that arose from a withering conception of the loss of him whose image, +by their association, was at once rendered more distinct and more +beloved. Her poor mother frequently endeavored to console her, but +became too much affected herself to proceed. Nor were the servants less +anxious to remove the heavy load of sorrow which weighed down her young +spirit to the earth. Her brief, but affecting reply was the same to +each. + +"Nothing can comfort me; my heart is breaking; oh, leave me--leave me to +the sorrow that's upon, me." + +Deep, indeed, was the distress felt on her account, even by the +females of her father's house, who, that day, shed many bitter tears +on witnessing the mute but feverish agony of her sufferings. As evening +approached she became evidently more distracted and depressed; her +head, she said, felt hot, and her temples occasionally throbbed with +considerable violence. The alternations of color on her cheek were +more frequent than before, and their pallid and carmine hues were more +alarmingly contrasted. Her weeping mother took the stricken one to her +bosom, and, after kissing her burning and passive lips, pressed her +temples with a hope that this might give her relief. + +"Why don't you cry, _anien maehree_? (daughter of my heart). Thry and +shed tears; it 'ill take away this burning pain that's in your poor head; +oh, thry and let down the tears, and you'll see how it 'ill relieve I +you." + +"Mother, I can't," she replied; "I can shed no tears; I wish they were +home, for I the worst couldn't be worse than this." + +"No, asthore, it couldn't--it can't; husth! I--do you hear it? There +they are; that's the car; ay, indeed, it's at the gate." + +They both listened for a moment, and the voices of her father and +brother were distinctly heard giving some necessary orders! to the +servant. + +"Mother, mother," exclaimed Una, pressing her hands upon her heart, "my +heart is bursting, and my temples--my temples--" + +"Chierna yeelish," said the mother, feeling its strong and rapid +palpitations, "you can't stand this. Oh, darling of my heart, for the +sake of your own life, and of the living God, be firm!" + +At this moment their knock at the hall-door occasioned her to leap with +a sudden start, almost out of her mother's arms. But, all at once, the +tumult of that heart ceased, and the vermillion of her cheek changed to +the hue of death. With a composure probably more the result of weakness +than fortitude, she clasped her hands, and giving a fixed gaze towards +the parlor-door, that spoke the resignation of despair, she awaited the +tidings of her lover's doom. They both entered, and, after a cautious +glance about the room, immediately perceived the situation in which, +reclining on her mother's bosom, she lay, ghastly as a corpse, before +them. + +"Una, dear," said John, approaching her, "I am afraid you are ill." + +She riveted her eyes upon him, as if she would read his soul, but she +could not utter a syllable. + +The young man's countenance became overshadowed by a deep and mournful +sense of the task he found himself compelled to perform; his voice +faltered, and his lips trembled, as--, in a low tone of heartfelt and +profound sympathy, he exclaimed: + +"Una, dear, you had better go to bed, and let my mother stay with you." +Calmly she heard him, and, rising, she slowly but deliberately left +the room, and proceeded up stairs with a degree of steadiness which +surprised her mother. The only words she uttered on hearing this +blighting communication, were, "Come with me, mother." + +"Una, darling," said the latter when they had reached the bed-room, "why +don't you spake to me? Let me hear your voice, jewel; only let me hear +your voice." + +Una stooped and affectionately kissed her, but made no reply for some +minutes. She then began to undress, which she did in fits and starts; +sometimes pausing, in evident abstraction, for a considerable time, and +again resuming the task of preparing for bed. + +"Mother," she at length said, "my heart is as cold as ice; but my brain +is burning; feel my temples; how hot they are, and how they beat!" + +"I do, alanna dheelish; your body, as well as your mind, is sick; but +we'll sind for the doctor, darlin', and you'll soon be betther, I hope." + +"I hope so; and then Connor and I can be married in spite of them. Don't +they say, mother, that marriages are made in heaven?" + +"They do, darlin'." + +"Well, then, I will meet him there. Oh, my head--my head! I cannot +bear--bear this racking pain." + +Her mother, who, though an uneducated woman, was by no means deficient +in sagacity, immediately perceived that her mind was beginning to +exhibit symptoms of being unsettled. Having, therefore, immediately +called one of the maid-servants, she gave her orders to stay with Una, +who had now gone to bed, until she herself could again return to her. +She instantly proceeded to the parlor, where her husband and son were, +and with a face pale from alarm, told them that she feared Una's mind +was going. + +"May the Almighty forbid!" exclaimed her father, laying down his knife +and fork, for they had just sat down to dinner; "oh, what makes you say +such a thing, Bridget? What on earth makes you think it?" + +"For Heaven's sake, mother, tell us at once," inquired the son, rising +from the table, and walking distractedly across the room. + +"Why, she's beginning to rave about him," replied her mother; "she's +afther saying that she'll be married to him in spite o' them." + +"In spite o' who, Bridget?" asked the Bodagh, wiping his eyes--"in spite +o' who does she mane?" + +"Why, I suppose in spite of Flanagan and thim that found him guilty," +replied his wife. + +"Well, but what else did she say, mother?" + +"She axed me if marriages warn't made in heaven; and I tould her that +the people said so; upon that she said she'd meet him there, and then +she complained of her head. The trewth is, she has a heavy load of +sickness on her back, and the sorra hour should be lost till we get a +docthor." + +"Yes, that is the truth, mother; I'll go this moment for Dr. H----. +There's nothing like taking these things in time. Poor Una! God knows +this trial is a sore one upon a heart so, faithful and affectionate as +hers." + +"John, had you not betther ait something before you go?" said his +father; "you want it afther the troublesome day you had." + +"No, no," replied the son; "I cannot--I cannot; I will neither eat nor +drink till I hear what the doctor will say about her. O, my God!" he +exclaimed, whilst his eyes filled with tears, "and is it come to this +with you, our darling Una?--I won't lose a moment till I return," +he added, as he went out; "nor will I, under any circumstances, come +without medical aid of some kind." + +"Let these things be taken away, Bridget," said the Bodagh; "my appetite +is gone, too; that last news is the worst of all. May the Lord of heaven +keep our child's mind right! for, oh, Bridget, wouldn't death itself be +far afore that?" + +"I'm going up to her," replied his wife; "and may God guard her, and +spare her safe and sound to us; for what--what kind of a house would it +be if she----but I can't think of it. Oh, wurrah, wurrah, this night!" + +Until the return of their son, with the doctor, both O'Brien and his +wife hung in a state of alarm bordering on agony over the bed of +their beloved daughter. Indeed, the rapidity and vehemence with which +incoherence, accompanied by severe illness, set in, were sufficient to +excite the greatest alarm, and to justify their darkest apprehensions. +Her skin was hot almost to burning; her temples throbbed terribly, and +such were her fits of starting and raving, that they felt as if every +minute were an hour, until the physician actually made his appearance. +Long before tins gentleman reached the house, the son had made him +fully acquainted with what he looked upon as the immediate cause of her +illness; not that the doctor himself had been altogether ignorant of +it, for, indeed, there were few persons of any class or condition in the +neighborhood to whom that circumstance was unknown. + +On examining the diagnostics that presented themselves, he pronounced +her complaint to be brain fever of the most formidable class, to wit, +that which arises from extraordinary pressure upon the mind, and unusual +excitement of the feelings. It was a relief to her family, however, to +know that beyond the temporary mental aberrations, inseparable from the +nature of her complaint, there was no evidence whatsoever of insanity. +They felt grateful to God for this, and were consequently enabled to +watch her sick-bed with more composure, and to look forward to her +ultimate recovery with a hope less morbid and gloomy. In this state +we are now compelled to leave them and her, and to beg the reader will +accompany us to another house of sorrow, where the mourning was still +more deep, and the spirits that were wounded driven into all the wild +and dreary darkness of affliction. + +Our readers cannot forget the helpless state of intoxication, in which +Fardorougha left his unhappy son on the evening of the calamitous day +that saw him doomed to an ignominious death. His neighbors, as we then +said, having procured a car, assisted him home, and would, for his +wife's and son's sake, have afforded him all the sympathy in their +power; he was, however, so completely overcome with the spirits he had +drank, and an unconscious latent feeling of the dreadful sentence that +had been pronounced upon his son, that he required little else at their +hands than to keep him steady on the car. During the greater part of the +journey home, his language was only a continuation of the incoherencies +which Connor had, with such a humiliating sense of shame and sorrow, +witnessed in his prison cell. A little before they arrived within sight +of his house, his companions perceived that he had fallen asleep; but +to a stranger, ignorant of the occurrences of the day, the car presented +the appearance of a party returning from a wedding or from some other +occasion equally festive and social. Most of them were the worse for +liquor, and one of them in particular had reached a condition which +may be too often witnessed in this country. I mean that in which the +language becomes thick; the eye knowing but vacant; the face impudent +but relaxed; the limbs tottering, and the voice inveterately disposed +to melody. The general conversation, therefore, of those who accompanied +the old man was, as is usual with persons so circumstanced, high and +windy; but as far as could be supposed by those who heard them cheerful +and amiable. Over the loudness of their dialogue might be heard, from +time to time, at a great distance, the song of the drunken melodist just +alluded to, rising into those desperate tones which borrow their drowsy +energy from intoxication alone. Such was the character of those who +accompanied the miser home; and such were the indications conveyed +to the ears or eyes of I those who either saw or heard them, as they +approached Fardorougha's dwelling, where the unsleeping heart of +the mother watched--and oh! with what a dry and burning anguish of +expectation, let our readers judge--for the life or death of the only +child that God had ever vouchsafed to that loving heart on which to rest +all its tenderest hopes and affections. + +The manner in which Honor O'Donovan spent that day was marked by +an earnest and simple piety that would have excited high praise and +admiration if witnessed in a person of rank or consideration in society. +She was, as the reader may remember, too ill to be able to attend the +trial of her son, or as she herself expressed it in Irish, to draw +strength to her heart by one look at his manly face; by one glance from +her boy's eye. She resolved, however, to draw consolation from a higher +source, and to rest the burden of her sorrows, as far as in her lay, +upon that being in whose hands are the issues of life and death. From +the moment her husband left the threshold of his childless house on that +morning until his return, her prayers to God and the saints were truly +incessant. And who is so well acquainted with the inscrutable ways of +the Almighty, as to dare assert that the humble supplications of this +pious and sorrowful mother were not heard and answered? Whether it was +owing to the fervor of an imagination wrought upon by the influence of +a creed which nourishes religious enthusiasm in an extraordinary degree, +or whether it was by direct support from that God who compassionated her +affliction, let others determine; but certain it is, that in the +course of that day she gained a calmness and resignation, joined to an +increasing serenity of heart, such as she had not hoped to feel under a +calamity so black and terrible. + +On hearing the approach of the car which bore her husband home, and on +listening to the noisy mirth of those, who, had they been sober, would +have sincerely respected her grief, she put up an inward prayer of +thanksgiving to God for what she supposed to be the happy event of +Connor's acquittal. Stunning was the blow, however, and dreadful the +revulsion of feelings, occasioned by the discovery of this sad mistake. +When they reached the door she felt still farther persuaded that all +had ended as she wished, for to nothing else, except the wildness of +unexpected joy, could she think of ascribing her husband's intoxication. + +"We must carry Fardorougha in," said one of them to the rest; "for the +liquor has fairly overcome him--he's sound asleep." + +"He is cleared!" exclaimed the mother; "he is cleared! My heart tells me +he has come out without a stain. What else could make his father, that +never tasted liquor for the last thirty years, be as he is?" + +"Honor O'Donovan," said one of them, wringing her hand as he spoke, +"this has been a black day to you all; you must prepare yourself for +bad news." + +"Thin Christ and his blessed mother support me, and support us all! but +what is the worst? oh, what is the worst?" + +"The _barradh dhu_," replied the man, alluding to the black cap which +the judge puts on when passing sentence of death. + +"Well," said she, "may the name of the Lord that sent this upon us be +praised forever! That's no rason why we shouldn't still put our trust +and reliance in him. I will show them, by the help of God's grace, an' +by the assistance of His blessed mother, who suffered herself--an' oh, +what is my sufferin's to her's?--I will show them I say, that I can +bear, as a Christian ought, whatever hard fate it may plase the Saviour +of the earth to lay upon us. I know my son is innocent, an surely, +although it's hard, hard to part with such a boy, yet it's a consolation +to know that he'll be better wid God, who is takin' him, than ever he'd +be wid us. So the Lord's will be done this night and forever! amin!" + +This noble display of glowing piety and fortitude was not lost upon +those who witnessed it. After littering these simple but exalted +sentiments, she crossed herself devoutly, as is the custom, and bowed +her head with such a vivid sense of God's presence, that it seemed as if +she actually stood, as no doubt she did, under the shadow of His power. +These men, knowing the force of her love to that son, and the consequent +depth of her misery at losing him by a death so shameful and violent, +reverently took off their hats as she bent her head to express this +obedience to the decrees of God, and in a subdued tone and manner +exclaimed, almost with one voice-- + +"May God pity you, Honor! for who but yourself would or could act as you +do this bitther, bitther night?" + +"I'm only doin' what I ought to do," she replied, "what is religion good +for if it doesn't keep the heart right an' support us undher thrials +like this; what 'ud it be then but a name? But how, oh how, came his +father to be in sich a state on this bitther, bitther night, as you say +it is--aif oh! Heaven above sees it's that--how came his father, I say, +into sich a state?" + +They then related the circumstance as it actually happened; and she +appeared much relieved to hear that his inebriety was only accidental. + +"I am glad," she said, "that he got it as he did; for, indeed, if he had +made himself dhrunk this day, as too many like him do on such occasions, +he never again would appear the same man in my eyes, nor would my heart +ever more warm to him as it did. But thanks to God that he didn't take +it himself!" + +She then heard, with a composure that could result only from fortitude +and resignation united, a more detailed account of her son's trial, +after which she added-- + +"As God is above me this night I find it asier to lose Connor than to +forgive the man that destroyed him; but this is a bad state of heart, +that I trust my Saviour will give me grace to overcome; an' I know He +will if I ax it as I ought; at all events, I won't lay my side on a bed +this night antil I pray to God to forgive Bartle Flanagan an' to turn +his heart." + +She then pressed them, with a heart as hospitable as it was pious, to +partake of food, which they declined, from a natural reluctance to give +trouble where the heart is known to be pressed down by the violence of +domestic calamity. These are distinctions which our humble countrymen +draw with a delicacy that may well shame those who move in a higher rank +of life. Respect for unmerited affliction, and sympathy for the sorrows +of the just and virtuous, are never withheld by the Irish peasant when +allowed by those who can guide him either for goqd or for evil to follow +the impulses of his own heart. The dignity, for instance, of Honor +O'Donovan's bearing under a trial so overwhelming in its nature, and the +piety with which she supported it, struck them, half tipsy as they were, +so forcibly, that they became sobered down--some of them into a full +perception of her firmness and high religious feelings; and those who +were more affected by drink into a maudlin gravity of deportment still +more honorable to the admirable principles of the woman who occasioned +it. + +One of the latter, for instance, named Bat Hanratty, exclaimed, after +they had bade her good, night, and expressed their unaffected sorrow for +the severe loss she was about to sustain: + +"Well, well, you may all talk; but be the powdhers o' delf, nothin' +barrin' the downright grace o' God could sup--sup--port that dacent +mother of ould Fardorougha--I mane of his son, poor Connor. But the +truth is, you see, that there's nothin'--nothin' no, the divil saize the +hap'o'rth at all, good, bad, or indifferent aquil to puttin' your trust +in God; bekase, you see--Con Roach, I say--bekase you see, when a man +does that as he ought to do it; for it's all faisthelagh if you go the +wrong way about it; but Con--Condy, I say, you're a dacent man, an' it +stands to raison--it does, boys--upon my soul it does. It wasn't for +nothin' that money was lost upon myself, when I was takin' in the +edjigation; and maybe, if Connor O'Donovan, that is now goin' to suffer, +poor fellow-- + + For the villain swore away my life, an' all by perjuree; + And for that same I die wid shame upon the gallows tree. + +So, as I was sayin', why didn't Connor come in an' join the boys like +another, an' then we could settle Bartle for staggin' against him. For, +you see, in regard o'. that, Condy, it doesn't signify a traneen whether +he put a match to the haggard or not; the thing is, you know, that even +if he did, Bartle daren't sweat against him widout breakin' his first +oath to the boys; an' if he did it afther that, an' brought any of them +into throuble conthrary to the articles, be gorra he'd be entitled to +get a gusset opened undher one o' his ears, any how. But you see, Con, +be the book--God pardon me for swearin'--but be the book, the mother has +the thrue! ralligion in her heart, or she'd never stand it the way she +does, an' that proves what I was axpoundin'; that afther all, the sorra +hap'-o'rth aquil to the grace o' God." + +He then sang a comic song, and, having passed an additional eulogium +on the conduct of Honor O'Donovan, concluded by exhibiting some rather +unequivocal symptoms of becoming pathetic from sheer sympathy; after +which the stiporific effect of his libations soon hushed him into a +snore that acted as a base to the shrill tones in which his companions I +addressed one another from each side of the car. + +Fardorougha, ever, since the passion of avarice had established its +accursed dominion in his heart, narrowed by degrees his domestic +establishment, until, towards the latter years of his life, it consisted +of only a laboring boy, as the term is, and a servant girl. + +Indeed, no miser was ever known to maintain a large household; and that +for reasons too obvious to be detailed. Since Connor's incarceration, +however, his father's heart had so far expanded, that he hired two men +as inside servants, one of them, now the father of a large family, being +the identical Nogher M'Cormick, who, as the reader remembers, was in his +service at the time of Connor's birth. The other was a young man named +Thaddy Star, or Reillaghan, as it is called in Irish, who was engaged +upon the recommendation of Biddy Nulty, then an established favorite +with her master and mistress, in consequence of her faithful devotion +to! them and Connor, and her simple-hearted participation in their heavy +trouble. The manner in which they received the result of her son's trial +was not indeed calculated to sustain his mother. In the midst of the +clamor, however, she was calm and composed; but it would have been +evident, to a close observer, that a deep impression of religious duty +alone sustained her, and that the yearnings of the mother's heart, +though stilled by resignation to the Divine Will, were yet more +intensely agonized by the suppression of what she secretly felt. Such, +however, is the motive of those heroic acts of self-denial, which +religion only can enable us to perform. It does not harden the heart, or +prevent it from feeling the full force of the calamity or sorrow which +comes upon us; no, but whilst we experience it in all the rigor of +distress, it teaches us to reflect that suffering is our lot, and that +it is our duty to receive these severe dispensations in such a manner as +to prevent others from being corrupted by our impatience, or by our open +want of submission to the decrees of Providence. When the agony of the +Man of Sorrow was at its highest, He retired to a solitary place, and +whilst every pore exuded water and blood, he still exclaimed--"Not My +will, but Thine be done." Here was resignation, indeed, but at the +same time a heart exquisitely sensible of all it had to bear. And much, +indeed, as yet lay before that of the pious mother of our unhappy hero, +and severe was the trial which, on this very night, she was doomed to +encounter. + +When Fardorougha awoke, which he did not do until about three o'clock +in the morning, he looked wildly about him, and, starting up in the bed, +put his two hands on his temples, like a man distracted by acute pain; +yet anxious to develop in his memory the proceedings of the foregoing +day. The inmates, however, were startled from their sleep by a shriek, +or rather a yell, so loud and unearthly that in a few minutes they stood +collected about his bed. It would be impossible, indeed, to conceive, +much less to describe, such a picture of utter horror as then presented +itself to their observation. A look that resembled the turbid glare of +insanity was riveted upon them whilst he uttered shriek after shriek, +without the power of articulating a syllable. The room, too, was dim and +gloomy; for the light of the candle that was left burning beside him had +become ghastly for want of snuffing. There he sat--his fleshless hands +pressed against his temples; his thin, gray hair standing out wildly +from his head; his lips asunder; and his cheeks sucked in so far that +the chasms occasioned in his jawbones, by the want of his back teeth, +were plainly visible. + +"Chiemah dheelish," exclaimed Honor, "what is this? as Heaven's above +me, I believe he's dyin'; see how he gasps! Here, Fardorougha," she +exclaimed, seizing a jug of water which had been left on a chair beside +him, but which he evidently did not see, "here, here, darlin', wet your +lips; the cool water will refresh you." + +He immediately clutched the jug with eager and trembling hands, and at +one rapid draught emptied it to the bottom. + +"Now," he shouted, "I can spake, now I can spake. Where's my son? +where's my son? an' what has happened me? how did I come here? was I +mad? am I mad? but tell me, tell me first, where's Connor? Is it thrue? +is it all thrue? or is it me that's mad?" + +"Fardorougha, dear," said his wife, "be a man, or, rather, be a +Christian. It was God gave Connor to us, and who has a better right +to take him back from us? Don't go flyin' in His face, bekase He won't +ordher everything as you wish. You haven't taken off of you to-night, so +rise, dear, and calm yourself; then go to your knees, lift your heart +to God, and beg of Him to grant you stringth and patience. Thry that +coorse, avoumeen, an' you'll find it the best." + +"How did I come home I say, Oh tell me Honor, was I out of my wits?" + +"You fainted," she replied; they gave you whiskey to support you; an' +not bein' accustomed to it, it got into your head." + +"Oh, Honor, our son, our son!" he replied; then, starting out of the +bed in a fit of the wildest despair, he clasped his handy together, and +shrieked out, "Oh, our son, our son, our son Connor! Merciful Saviour, +how will I name it? to be hanged by the neck! Oh, Honor, Honor, don't +you pity me? don't you pity me? Mother of Heaven, this night? That +barradh dim, that barradh dim, put on for our boy, our innocent boy; +who can undherstand it, Honor? It's not justice; there's no justice in +Heaven, or my son wouldn't be murdhered, slaughtered down in the prime +of his life, for no rason! But no matther; let him be taken; only hear +this: if he goes, I'll never,bend my knee to a single prayer while I've +life; for it's terrible, it's cruel, 'tisn't justice; nor do I care what +becomes of me, either in this world or the other. All I want, Honor, +is to folly him as soon as I can; my hopes, my happiness, my life, my +everything, is gone wid him; an' what need I care, thin, what becomes of +me? I don't, I don't." + +The faces of the domestics grew pale as they heard, with silent horror, +the incoherent blasphemies of the frantic miser; but his wife, whose +eyes were riveted on him while he spoke, and paced, with a hurried step, +up and down the room, felt at a loss whether to attribute his impiety to +an attack of insanity, or to a temporary fever, brought on by his late +sufferings and the intoxication of the preceding night. + +"In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, Fardorougha," she +said calmly, placing her hand upon his shoulder, "are you sinsible that +you're this minute afther blasphemin' your Creator?" + +He gave her a quick, disturbed, and peevish look, but made no reply. She +then proceeded: + +"Fardorougha, I thought the loss of Connor the greatest punishment that +could be put upon me; but I find I was mistaken. I would rather see +him dead to-morrow, wid, wid the rope about his neck, than to hear his +father blasphemin' the livin' God! Fardorougha, it's clear that you're +not now fit to pray for yourself, but, in the name of our Saviour, I'll +go an' pray for you. In the mean time, go to bed; sleep will settle your +head, and you will be better, I trust, in the mornin'." + +The calm solemnity of her manner awed him, notwithstanding the vehemence +of his grief. He stood and looked at her, with his hands tightly +clasped, as she went to her son's bedroom, in order to pray for him. +For a moment, he seemed abashed and stunned. While she addressed him, he +involuntarily ceased to utter those sounds of anguish which were neither +shrieks nor groans, but something between both. He theli resumed his +pace, but with a more settled step, and for some minutes maintained +perfect silence. + +"Get me," said he, at length, "get me a drink of wather; I'm in a flame +wid drouth." + +When Biddy Nulty went out to fetch him this, he inquired of the rest +what Honor meant by charging him with blasphemy. + +"Surely to God, I didn't blasphame," he said, peevishly; "no, no, I'm +not that bad; but any how, let her pray for me; her prayer will be +heard, if ever woman's was." + +When Biddy returned, he emptied the jug of water with the same trembling +eagerness as before; then clasped his hands again, and commenced pacing +the room, evidently in a mood of mind about to darken into all the +wildness of his former grief. + +"Fardorougha," said Nogher M'Cormick; "I was undher this roof the +night your manly son was born. I remimber it well; an' I remimber more +betoken, I had to check you for flying in the face o' God that sent +him to you. Instead o' feelin' happy and delighted, as you ought to ha' +done, an' as any other man but yourself would, you grew dark an' sulky, +and grumbled bekase you thought there was a family comin'. I tould you +that night to take care an' not be committing sin; an' you may renumber, +too, that I gev you chapter an' verse for it out o' Scripture: 'Woe +be to the man that's born wid a millstone about his neck, especially +if he's to be cast into the say.' The truth is, Fardorougha, you warn't +thankful to God for him; and you see that afther all, it doesn't do to +go to loggerheads wid the Almighty. Maybe, had you been thankful for +him, he wouldn't be where he is this night. Millstone! Faith, it was +a home thrust, that same verse; for if you didn't carry the millstone +about your neck, you had it in your heart; an' you now see and feel the +upshot. I'm now goin' fast into age myself; my hair is grayer than your +own, and I could take it to my death," said the honest fellow, while a +tear or two ran slowly down his cheek; "that, exceptin' one o' my own +childre', an' may God spare them to me! I couldn't feel more sorrow at +the fate of any one livin', than at Connor's. Many a time I held him in +these arms, an' many a little play I made for him; an' many a time he +axed me why his father didn't nurse him as I did;' bekase,' he used to +say, 'I would rather he would nurse me than anybody else, barring my +mother; and, afther him, you, Nogher.'" + +These last observations of his servant probed the heart of the old man +to the quick; but the feeling which they excited was a healthy one; or, +rather, the associations they occasioned threw Fardorougha's mind upon +the memory of those affections, which avarice had suppressed, without +destroying. + +"I loved him, Nogher," said he, deeply agitated; "Oh none but God knows +how I loved him, although I didn't an' couldn't bring myself to show +it at the time. There was something upon me; a curse, I think, that +prevented me; an' now that I love him as a father ought to do, I will +not have him. Oh, my son, my son, what will become of me, after you? +Heavenly Father, pity me and support me! Oh, Connor, my son, my son, +what will become of me?" + +He then sat down on the bed, and, placing his hands upon his face, wept +long and bitterly. His grief now, however, was natural, for, during the +most violent of his paroxysms in the preceding hour, he shed not a tear; +yet now they ran down his cheeks, and through his fingers, in torrents. + +"Cry on, cry on," said Nogher, wiping his own eyes; "it will lighten +your heart; an' who knows but it's his mother's prayers that brought +you to yourself, and got this relief for you. Go, Biddy," said he, in +a whisper, to the servant-maid, "and tell the mistress to come here; +she'll know best how to manage him, now that he's a little calm." + +"God be praised!" ejaculated Honor, on seeing him weep; "these tears +will cool your head, avourneen; an' now, Fardorougha, when you're tired +cryin', if you take my advice, you'll go to your knees an' offer up five +pathers, five Aves, an' a creed, for the grace of the Almighty to direct +and strengthen you; and thin, afther that, go to bed, as I sed, an' +you'll find how well you'll be afther a sound sleep." + +"Honor," replied her husband, "avourneen machree, I think you'll save +your husband's sowl yet, undhor my merciful Saviour." + +"Your son, undher the same merciful God, will do it. Your heart was +hard and godless, Fardorougha, and, surely, if Connor's death 'll be the +manes of savin' his father's sowl, wouldn't it be a blessin' instead +of a misfortune? Think of it in that light, Fardorougha, and turn your +heart to God. As for Connor, isn't it a comfort to know that the breath +won't be out of his body till he's a bright angel in heaven?" + +The old man wiped his eyes and knelt down, first having desired them to +leave him. When the prayers were recited he called in Honor. + +"I'm afeard," said he, "that my heart wasn't properly in them, for I +couldn't prevent my mind from wanderin' to our boy." + +This touching observation took the mother's affections by surprise. +A tear started to her eye, but, after what was evidently a severe +struggle, she suppressed it. + +"It's not at once you can do it, Fardorougha; so don't be cast down. +Now, go to bed, in the name of God, and sleep; and may the Lord in +heaven support you--and support us both! for oh! it's we that want it +this night of sorrow!" + +She then stooped down and affectionately kissed him, and, having wished +him good night, she retired to Connor's bed, where, ever since the day +of his incarceration, this well-tried mother and enduring Christian +slept. + +At this stage of our story we will pause, for a moment, to consider +the state of mind and comparative happiness of the few persons who are +actors in our humble drama. + +To a person capable of observing only human action, independently of the +motives by which it is regulated, it may appear that the day which saw +Connor O'Donovan consigned to a premature and shameful death, was one of +unmingled happiness to Bartle Flanagan. They know little of man's heart, +however, who could suppose this to be the case, or, who could even +imagine that he was happier than those on whom his revenge and perfidy +had entailed such a crushing load of misery. It is, indeed, impossible +to guess what the nature of that feeling must be which arises from the +full gratification of mean and diabolic malignity. Every action of the +heart at variance with virtue and truth is forced to keep up so many +minute and fearful precautions, all of which are felt to be of vast +moment at the time, that we question if ever the greatest glut of +vengeance produced, no matter what the occasion may have been, any +satisfaction capable of counterbalancing all the contigencies and +apprehensions by which the mind is distracted both before and after its +preparation. The plan and accomplishment must both be perfect in all +their parts--for if either fail only in a single point, all is lost, and +the pleasure arising from them resembles the fruit which is said to grow +by the banks of the Dead Sea--it is beautiful and tempting to the eye, +but bitterness and ashes to the taste. + +The failing of the county treasurer, for instance, deprived Bartle +Flanagan of more than one half his revenge. He was certainly far more +anxious to punish the father than the son, and were it not that he +saw no other mode of effecting his vengeance on Fardorougha, than by +destroying the only object on earth that he loved next to his wealth, he +would have never made the innocent pay the penalty of the guilty. As he +had gone so far, however, self-preservation now made him anxious that +Connor should die; as he knew his death would remove out of his way the +only person in existence absolutely acquainted with his villany. One +would think, indeed, that the sentence pronounced upon his victim ought +to have satisfied him on that head. This, however, it failed to do. That +sentence contained one clause, which utterly destroyed the completeness +of his design, and filled his soul with a secret apprehension either of +just retribution, or some future ill which he could not shake off, +and for which the reward received for Connor's apprehension was but +an ineffectual antidote. The clause alluded to in the judge's charge, +viz.--"the recommendation of the jury to the mercy of the Crown, in +consideration of your youth, and previous good conduct, shall not be +overlooked"--sounded in his ears like some mysterious sentence that +involved his own fate, and literally filled his heart with terror and +dismay. Independently of all this his villanous projects had involved +him in a systematic course of guilt, which was yet far from being +brought to a close. In fact, he now found by experience how difficult it +is to work out a bad action with success, and how the means, and plans, +and instruments necessary to it must multiply and become so deep and +complicated in guilt, that scarcely any single intellect, in the case +of a person who can be reached by the laws, is equal to the task of +executing a great crime against society, in a perfect manner. If this +were so, discovery would be impossible, and revenge certain. + +With respect to Connor himself it is only necessary to say that a short +but well-spent life, and a heart naturally firm, deprived death of its +greatest terrors. Still he felt it, in some depressed moods, a terrible +thing indeed to reflect, that he, in the very fullness of strength and +youth, should be cut down from among his fellows--a victim without a +crime, and laid with shame in the grave of a felon. But he had witnessed +neither his mother's piety nor her example in vain, and it was in the +gloom of his dungeon that he felt the light of both upon his spirit. + +"Surely," said he, "as I am to die, is it not better that I should die +innocent than guilty? Instead of fretting that I suffer, a guiltless +man, surely I ought to thank God that I am so; an' that my soul hasn't +to meet the sin of such a revengeful act as I'm now condemned for. I'll +die, then, like a Christian man, putting my hope and trust in the mercy +of my Redeemer--ever an' always hoping that by His assistance I will be +enabled to do it." + +Different, indeed, were the moral state and position of these two young +men; the one, though lying in his prison cell, was sustained by the +force of conscious innocence, and that reliance upon the mercy of God, +which constitutes the highest order of piety, and the noblest basis of +fortitude; the other, on the contrary, disturbed by the tumultuous and +gloomy associations of guilt, and writhing under the conviction, that, +although he had revenge, he had not satisfaction. The terror of crime +was upon him, and he felt himself deprived of that best and only +security, which sets all vain apprehensions at defiance, the +consciousness of inward integrity. Who, after all, would barter an +honest heart for the danger arising from secret villany, when such an +apparently triumphant villain as Bartle Flanagan felt a deadly fear, of +Connor O'Donovan in his very dungeon? Such, however, is guilt, and such +are the terrors that accompany it. + +The circumstances which, in Ireland, usually follow the conviction of +a criminal, are so similar to each other, that we feel it, even in this +case, unnecessary to do more than give a mere sketch of Connor's brief +life as a culprit. We have just observed that the only clause in the +judge's charge which smote the heart of the traitor, Flanagan, with a +presentiment of evil, was that containing the words in which something +like a, hope of having his sentence mitigated was held out to him, in +consequence of the recommendation to mercy by which the jury accompanied +their verdict. It is very strange, on the other hand, that, at the +present stage of our story, neither his father nor mother knew anything +whatsoever of the judge having given expression to such a hope. The +old man, distracted as he was at the time, heard nothing, or at least +remembered nothing, but the awful appearance of the black cap, or, as +they term it in the country, the barradh dhu, and the paralyzing +words in which the sentence of death was pronounced upon his son. +It consequently happened that the same clause in the charge actually, +although in a different sense, occasioned the misery of Bartle Flanagan +on the one hand, and of Connor's parents on the other. + +The morning after the trial, Fardorougha was up as early as usual, but +his grief was nearly as vehement and frantic as on the preceding night. +It was observed, however--such is the power of sorrow to humanize and +create sympathy in the heart--that, when he arose, instead of peevishly +and weakly obtruding his grief and care upon those about him, as he was +wont to do, he now kept aloof from the room in which Honor slept, from +an apprehension of disturbing her repose--a fact which none who knew his +previous selfishness would have believed, had he not himself expressed +in strong terms a fear of awakening her. Nor did this new trait of his +character escape the observation of his own servants, especially of his +honest monitor, Nogher M'Cormick. + +"Well, well," exclaimed this rustic philosopher; "see what God's +affliction does. Faith, it has brought Fardorougha to feel a trifle for +others, as well as for himself. Who knows, begad, but it may take the +millstone out of his heart yet; and if it does, my word to you, he may +thank his wife, undher God, for it." + +Before leaving home that morning to see his son, he found with deep +regret that Honor's illness had been so much increased by the events of +the preceding day, that she could not leave her bed. And now, for the +first time, a thought, loaded with double anguish, struck upon his +heart. + +"Saver of earth!" he exclaimed, "what would become of me if both should +go and lave me alone? God of heaven, alone! Ay, ay," he continued, "I +see it. I see how asily God might make my situation still worse than I +thought it could be. Oh God, forgive me my sins; and may God soften my +heart! Amin!" + +He then went to see his wife ere he set out for his unhappy son; and it +was with much satisfaction that Honor observed a changed and chastened +tone in his manner, which she had never, except for a moment at +the birth of his child, noticed before. Not that his grief was much +lessened, but it was more rational, and altogether free from the +violence and impiety which had characterized it when he awoke from his +intoxication. + +"Honor," said he, "how do you find yourself this mornin', alanna? They +tell me you're worse than you Wor yesterday." + +"Indeed, I'm wake enough," she replied, "and very much bate down, +Fardorougha; but you know it's not our own stringth at any time that +we're to depend upon, but God's. I'm not willing to attempt anything +beyant my power at present. My seeing him now would do neither of us any +good, and might do me a great dale o' harm. I must see him, to be sure, +and I'll strive, plase God, to gather up a little strength for that." + +"My heart's breakin', Honor, and I'm beginnin' to see that I've acted a +bad part to both of you all along. I feel it, indeed; and if it was the +will of God, I didn't care if--" + +"Whisht, accushla, whisht--sich talk as that's not right. Think, +Fardorougha, whether you acted a bad part towards God or not, and never +heed us; an' think, too, dear, whether you acted a bad or a good part +towards the poor, an' them that was in distress and hardship, an' that +came to you for relief; they were your fellow-crathers, Fardorougha, at +all evints. Think of these things I'm sayin, and never heed us. You know +that Connor and I forgive you, but you arn't so sure whether God and +them will." + +These observations of this estimable woman had the desired effect, which +was, as she afterwards said, to divert her husband's mind as much as +possible from the contemplation of Connor's fate, and to fix it upon +the consideration of those duties in which she knew his conscience, now +touched by calamity, would tell him he had been deficient. + +Fardorougha was silent for some time after her last observations--but at +length he observed: + +"Would it be possible, Honor, that all this was brought upon us in +ordher to punish me for--for--" + +"To punish you, Fardorougha? Fareer gaih avourneen, arn't we all +punished? look at my worn face, and think of what ten days' sorrow can +do in a mother's heart--think, too, of the boy. Oh no, no--do you think +I've have nothin' to be punished for? But we have all one comfort, +Fardorougha, and that is, that God's ever and always willin' to re-save +us, when we turn to Him wid a true heart? Nobody, avillish, can forget +and forgive as He does." + +"Honor, why didn't you oftener spake to me this a-way than you did?" + +"I often did, dear, an' you may remember it; but you were then strong; +you had your wealth; everything flowed wid you, an' the same wealth--the +world's temptation--was strong in your heart; but God has taken it from +you I hope as a blessing--for, indeed, Fardorougha, I'm afeard if you +had it now, that neither he nor--but I won't say it, dear, for God sees +I don't wish to say one word that 'ud distress you now, avourneen. Any +how, Fardorougha, never despair in God's goodness--never do it; who can +tell what may happen?" + +Her husband's grief was thus checked, and a train of serious reflection +laid, which, like some of those self-evident convictions that fastened +on the awakened conscience, the old man could not shake off. + +Honor, in her further conversation with him, touching the coming +interview with the unhappy culprit, desired him, above all things, to +set "their noble boy" an example of firmness, and by no means to hold +out to him any expectation of life. + +"It would be worse than murdher," she exclaimed, "to do so. No--prepare +him by your advice, Fardorougha, ay, and by your example, to be +firm--and tell him that his mother expects he will die like an innocent +man--noble and brave--and not like a guilty coward, afeard to look up +and meet his God." + +Infidels and hypocrites, so long as their career in vice is unchecked +by calamity, will no doubt sneer when we assure them, that Fardorougha, +after leaving his wife that morning once more to visit his son, felt a +sense of relief, or, perhaps we should say, a breaking of faint light +upon his mind, which, slight as it was, afforded him more comfort +and support than he ever hoped to experience. Indeed, it was almost +impossible for any heart to exist within the influence of that piety +which animated his admirable wife, and not catch the holy fire which +there burned with such purity and brightness. + +Ireland, however, abounds with such instances of female piety and +fortitude, not, indeed, as they would be made to appear in the +unfeminine violence of political turmoil, in which a truly pious +female would not embroil herself; but in the quiet recesses of domestic +life--in the hard struggles against poverty, and in those cruel +visitations, where the godly mother is forced to see her innocent son +corrupted by the dark influence of political crime, drawn within the +vortex of secret confederacy, and subsequently yielding up his life to +the outraged laws of that country which he assisted to distract. It is +in scenes like these that the unostentatious magnanimity of the pious +Irish wife or mother may be discovered; and it is here where, as the +night and storms of life darken her path, the holy fortitude of her +heart shines with a lustre proportioned to the depth of the gloom around +her. + +When Fardorougha reached the town in which his ill-fated son occupied +the cell of a felon, he found to his surprise that, early as were his +habits, there were others whose movements were still more early than his +own. John O'Brien had come to town--been with his attorney--had got a +memorial in behalf of Connor to the Irish government, engrossed, and +actually signed by more than one--half of the jury who tried him--all +before the hour of ten o'clock. A copy of thi's document, which was +written by O'Brien himself, now lies before us, with the names of all +the jurors attached to it; and a more beautiful or affecting piece of +composition we have never read. The energy and activity of O'Brien were +certainly uncommon, and so, indeed, were his motives. As he himself told +Fardorougha, whom he met as the latter entered the town-- + +"I would do what I have done for Connor, although I have never yet +exchanged a syllable with him. Yet, I do assure you, Fardorougha, that +I have other motives--which you shall never know--far stronger than any +connected with the fate of your son. Now, don't misunderstand me." + +"No," replied the helpless old man, who was ignorant of the condition of +his sister, "I will not, indeed--I'd be long sarry." + +O'Brien saw that any rational explanation he might give would be +only thrown away upon a man who seemed to be so utterly absorbed and +stupefied by the force of his own sufferings. + +"Poor old man," he exclaimed, as Fardorougha left him, to visit Connor; +"see what affliction does? There are thousands now who pity you--even +you, whom almost every one who knew you, cursed and detested." + +Such, indeed, was the fact. The old man's hardness of heart was +forgotten in the pity that was produced by the dreadful fate which +awaited his unhappy son. We must now pass briefly over occurrences +which are better understood when left to the reader's imagination. +John O'Brien was not the only one who interested himself in the fate +of Connor. Fardorougha, as a matter of course, got the priest of the +parish, a good and pious man, to draw up a memorial in the name, as he +said, of himself and his wife. The gentry of the neighborhood, also, +including the members of the grand jury, addressed government on his +behalf--for somehow there was created among those who knew the parties, +or even who heard the history of their loves, a sympathy which resulted +more from those generous impulses that intuitively perceive truth, than +from the cooler calculations of reason. The heart never reasons--it +is, therefore, the seat of feeling, and the fountain of mercy; the head +does--and it is probably on that account the seat of justice, often +of severity, and not unfrequently of cruelty and persecution, Connor +himself was much relieved by that day's interview with his father. Even +he could perceive a change for the better in the old man's deportment. +Fardorougha's praises of Honor, and his strong allusions to the support +and affection he experienced at her hands, under circumstances so +trying, were indeed well calculated to prepare "her noble boy," as she +truly called him, for the reception of the still more noble message +which she sent him. + +"Father," said he, as they separated that day, "tell my mother that +I will die as she wishes me; and tell her, too, that if I wasn't an +innocent man, I could not do it. And oh, father," he added, and he +seized his hands, and fell upon his neck, "oh, father dear, if you love +me, your own Connor--and I know you do--oh, then, father dear, I say +again, be guided in this heavy affliction by my dear mother's advice." + +"Connor," returned the old man, deeply affected, "I will. I had made my +mind up to that afore I saw you at all to-day. Connor, do you know what +I'm beginning to think?" + +"No, father dear, I do not." + +"Why, then, it's this, that she'll be the manes of savin' your father's +soul. Connor, I can look back now upon my money--all I lost--it was no +doubt terrible--terrible all out. Connor, my rint is due, and I haven't +the manes of meetin' it." + +Alas! thought the boy, how hard it is to root altogether out of the +heart that principle which inclines it to the love of wealth! + +"At any rate, I will take your advice, Connor, and be guided by your +mother. She's very poorly, or she'd be wid you afore now; but, indeed, +Connor, her health is the occasion of it--it is--it is!" + +Fardorougha's apology for his wife contained much more truth than he +himself was aware of at the time he made it. On returning home that +night he found her considerably worse, but, as she had been generally +healthy, he very naturally ascribed her illness to the affliction she +felt for the fate of their son. In this, however, he was mistaken, +as the original cause of it was unconnected with the heavy domestic +dispensation which had fallen upon them. So far as she was concerned, +the fate of her boy would have called up from her heart fresh energy +and' if possible a higher order of meek but pious courage.--She would +not have left him unsustained and uncherished, had the physical powers +of the mother been able to second the sacred principles with which she +met and triumphed over the trial that was laid upon her. + +It was one evening about ten days after O'Donovan's conviction that +Bodagh Buie O'Brien's wife sat by the bedside of her enfeebled and +languishing daughter. The crisis of her complaint had passed the day +before; and a very slight improvement, visible only to the eye of +her physician, had taken place. Her delirium remained much as before; +sometimes returning with considerable violence, and again leaving +reason, though feeble and easily disturbed, yet when unexcited by +external causes, capable of applying its powers to the circumstances +around her. On this occasion the mother, who watched every motion and +anticipated every wish of the beloved one, saw that she turned her eye +several times upon her as if some peculiar anxiety distressed her. + +"Una, jewel," she at length inquired, "is there anything you want, +colleen maehree; or anything I can do for you?" + +"Come near me, mother," she replied, "come near me." + +Her mother approached her still more nearly. + +"I'm afraid," she said, in a very low voice, "I'm afraid to ask it." + +"Only wait for a minute or two," said her mother, "an' John will--but +here's the doctor's foot; they wor spakin' a word or two below; +an' whisper, darlin' o' my heart, sure John has something to tell +you--something that will"-- + +She looked with a searching anxiety into her mother's face; and it might +have been perceived that the morning twilight of hope beamed faintly but +beautifully upon her pale features. The expression that passed over +them was indeed so light and transient that one could scarcely say +she smiled; yet that a more perceptible serenity diffused its gentle +irradiation over her languid countenance was observed even by her +mother. + +The doctor's report was favorable. + +"She is slowly improving," he said, on reaching the parlor, "since +yesterday; I'm afraid, however, she's too weak at present to sustain +this intelligence. I would recommend you to wait for a day or two, and +in the meantime to assume a cheerful deportment, and to break it to +her rather by your looks and manner than by a direct or abrupt +communication." + +They promised to observe his directions; but when her mother informed +them of the hint she herself threw out to her, they resolved to delay +the matter no longer; and John, in consequence of what his mother had +led her to expect, went to break the intelligence to her as well as +he could. An expectation had been raised in her mind, and he judged +properly enough that there was less danger in satisfying it than in +leaving her just then in a state of such painful uncertainty. + +"Dear Una," said he, "I am glad to hear the doctor say that you are +better." + +"I think I am a little," said she. + +"What was my mother saying to you, just now, before the doctor was with +you? But why do you look at me so keenly, Una?" said he, cheerfully; +"it's sometime since you saw me in such a good humor--isn't it?" + +She paused for a moment herself; and her brother could observe that the +hope which his manner was calculated to awaken, lit itself into a faiut +smile rather visible in her eyes than on her features. + +"Why, I believe you are smiling yourself, Una." + +"John," said she, earnestly, "is it good?" + +"It is, darling--he won't die." + +"Kiss me, kiss me," she said; "may eternal blessings rest upon you!" + +She then kissed him affectionately, laid her head back upon the pillow, +and John saw with delight that the large tears of happiness rolled in +torrents down her palo cheeks. + +It was indeed true that Connor O'Donovan was not to die. The memorials +which had reached government from so many quarters, backed as they were +by very powerful influence, and detailing as they did a case of such +very romantic interest, could scarcely fail in arresting the execution +of so stern and deadly a sentence. It was ascertained, too, by the +intercourse of his friends with government, that the judge who tried +his case, notwithstanding the apparent severity of his charge, had been +moved by an irresistible impulse to save him, and he actually determined +from the beginning to have his sentence commuted to transportation for +life. + +The happy effect of this communication on Una O'Brien diffused a +cheerful spirit among her family and relatives, who, in truth, had +feared that her fate would ultimately depend upon that of her lover. +After having been much relieved by the copious flood of tears she shed, +and heard with composure all the details connected with the mitigation +of his sentence, she asked her brother if Connor's parents had been yet +made acquainted with it. + +"I think not," he replied; "the time is too short." + +"John," said the affectionate girl, "oh, consider his mother; and think +of the misery that one single hour's knowledge of this may take away +from her heart! Go to her, my dear John, and may all the blessings of +heaven rest upon you!" + +"Good--by, then, Una dear; I will go." + +He took her worn hand in his, as he spoke, and, looking on her with +affectionate admiration, added-- + +"Yes! good-by, my darling sister; believe me, Una, that I think if +there's justice in Heaven, you'll have a light heart yet." + +"It is very light now," she returned, "compared with what it was; but +go, John, don't lose a moment; for I know what they suffer." + +Her mother, after John's departure for Fardorougha's, went up to sit +with her; but she found that the previous scene, although it relieved, +had exhausted her. In the course of a few minutes their limited dialogue +ceased, and she sank into a sound and refreshing sleep, from which +she did not awaken until her brother had some time returned from the +execution of his pious message. And piously was that message received +by her for whose misery the considerate heart of Una O'Brien felt +so deeply. Fardorougha had been out about the premises, mechanically +looking to the manner in which the business of his farm had been of late +managed by his two servants, when he descried O'Brien approaching the +house at a quick if not a hurried pace. He immediately went in and +communicated the circumstance to his wife. + +"Honor," said he, "here is Bodagh Buie's son comin' up to the +house--what on earth can bring the boy here?" + +This was the first day on which his wife had been able to rise from her +sick bed. She was consequently feeble, and, physically speaking, capable +of no domestic exertion. Her mind, however, was firm as ever, and prompt +as before her calamity to direct and overlook, in her own sweet and +affectionate manner, whatever required her superintendence. + +"I'm sure I don't know, Fardorougha," she replied. "It can't, I hope, +be wid bad news--they thravel fast enough--an' I'm sure the Bodagh's son +wouldn't take pleasure in bein' the first to tell them to us." + +"But what can bring him, Honor? What on earth can bring the boy here +now, that never stood undher our roof afore?" + +"Three or four minutes, Fardorougha, will tell us. Let us hope in God it +isn't bad. Eh, Saver above, it wouldn't be the death of his sister--of +Connor's Oona! No," she added, "they wouldn't send, much less come, to +tell vis that; but sure we'll hear it--we'll hear it; and may God give +us stringth to hear it right, whether it's good or bad! Amin, Jasus, +this day!" + +She had hardly uttered the last words, when O'Brien entered. + +"Young man," said this superior woman, '"it's a poor welcome we can give +you to a house of sorrow." + +"Ay," said Fardorougha, "his mother an' I's here, but where is he? Nine +days from this; but it 'ill kill me--it will--it will. Whin he's taken +from me, I don't care how soon I folly him; God forgive me if it's a sin +to say so!" + +"Fardorougha," said his wife, in a tone of affectionate reproof, +"remember what you promised me, an', at all evints, you forget that Mr. +O'Brien here may have his own troubles; I heard your sister was unwell. +Oh, how is she, poor thing?" + +"I thank you, a great deal better; I will not deny but she heard a piece +of intelligence this day, that has relieved her mind and taken a dead +weight off her heart." + +Honor, with uncommon firmness and solemnity of manner, placed her hand +upon his shoulder, and, looking him earnestly in the face, said, + +"That news is about our son?" + +"It is," replied O'Brien, "and it's good; his sentence is changed, and +he is not to die." + +"Not to die!" shrieked the old man, starting up, and clapping his hands +frantically--"not to die! our son--Connor, Connor--not to be hanged--not +to be hanged! Did you say that, son of O'Brien Buie, did you--did you?" + +"I did," replied the other; "he will not suffer." + +"Now that's God," ejaculated Fardorougha, wildly; "that's God an' his +mother's prayers. Boys," he shrieked, "come here; come here, Biddy +Nulty, come her; Connor's not to die; he won't suffer--he won't suffer!" + +He was rushing wildly to the door, but Honor placed herself before him, +and said, in that voice of calmness which is uniformly that of authority +and power: + +"Fardorougha, dear, calm yourself. If this is God's work, as you say, +why not resave it as comm' from God? It's upon your two knees you ought +to drop, an'--Saver above, what's the matther wid him? He's off; keep +him up. Oh, God bless you! that's it, avourneen; jist place him on the +chair there fornext the door, where he can have air. Here, dear," said +she to Biddy Nulty, who, on hearing herself called by her master, had +come in from another room; "get some feathers, Biddy, till we burn them +undher his nose; but first fetch a jug of cold water." + +On looking at the face of the miser, O'Brien started, as indeed well he +might, at such a pallid, worn, and death--like countenance; why, thought +he to himself, surely this must be death, and the old man's cares, and +sorrows, and hopes, are all passed forever. + +Honor now bathed his face, and wet his lips with water, and as she +sprinkled and rubbed back the gray hair from his emaciate! temples, +there might be read there an expression of singular wildness that +resembles the wreck produced by insanity. + +"He looks ill," observed O'Brien, who actually thought him dead; "but I +hope it won't signify." + +"I trust in God's mercy it won't," replied Honor; "for till his heart, +poor man, is brought more to God--" + +She paused with untaught delicacy, for she reflected that he was her +husband. + +"For that matther, who is there," she continued, "that is fit to go to +their last account at a moment's warnin'? That's a good girl, Biddy; +give me the feathers; there's nothing like them. Dheah Gratihias! Dheah +Gratihias!" she exclaimed, "he's not--he's not--an' I was afeard he +was--no, he's recoverin'. Shake him; rouse him a little; Fardorougha, +dear!" + +"Where--where am I?" exclaimed her husband; "what is this? what ails +me?" + +He then looked inquiringly at his wife and O'Brien; but it appeared +that the presence of the latter revived in his mind the cause of his +excitement. + +"Is it--is it thrue, young man? tell me--tell me!" + +"How, dear, can any one have spirits to tell you good news, when you +can't bear it aither like a man or a Christian?" + +"Good news! You say, then, it's thrue, an' he's not to be hanged by the +neck, as the judge said; an' my curse--my heavy curse upon him for a +judge!" + +"I hate to hear the words of his sentence, Fardorougha," said the wife; +"but if you have patience you'll find that his life's granted to him; +an', for Heaven's sake, curse nobody. The judge only did his duty." + +"Well," he exclaimed, sinking upon his knees, "now, from this day out, +let what will happen, I'll stick to my duty to God--I'll repent--I'll +repent and lead a new life. I will, an' while I'm alive I'll never say a +word against the will of my heavenly Saviour; never, never." + +"Fardorougha," replied his--wife, "it's good, no doubt, to have a +grateful heart to God; but I'm afeard there's sin in what you're sayin', +for you know, dear, that, whether it plased the Almighty to take yur +boy, or not, what you've promised to do is your duty. It's like sayin', +'I'll now turn my heart bekase God has deserved it at my hands.' Still, +dear, I'm not goin' to condimn you, only I think it's betther an' safer +to love an' obey God for His own sake! blessed be His holy name!" + +Young O'Brien was forcibly struck by the uncommon character of Honor +O'Donovan. Her patience, good sense, and sincere acquiescence in the +will of God, under so severe a trial, were such as he had never seen: +equalled. Nor could he help admitting to himself, while contemplating +her conduct, that the example of such a woman was not only the most +beautiful comment on religious truth, but the noblest testimony of its +power. + +"Yes, Honor," said the husband, in reply, "you're right, for I know +that what you say is always thrue. It is, indeed," he added, addressing +O'Brien, "she's aquil to a prayer-book." + +"Yes, and far superior to any," replied the latter; "for she not only +gives you the advice, but sets you the example." + +"Ay, the sorra lie in it; an', oh, Honor, he's not to die--he's not to +be h----, not to suffer. Our son's to live! Oh, Saver of earth, make me +thankful this day!" + +The tears ran fast from his eyes as he looked up to heaven, and uttered, +the last; words. Indeed, it was impossible not to feel deep compassion +for this aged man, whose heart had been smitten so heavily, and on the +only two points where it was capable of feeling the blow. + +After having indulged his grief for some time, he became considerably +more composed, if not cheerful. Honor made many kind inquiries after +Una's health, to which her brother answered with strict candor, for he +had heard from Una that she was acquainted with the whole history of +their courtship. + +"Who knows," said she, speaking with reference to their melancholy fate, +"but the God who has saved his life, an' most likely hers, may yet do +more for them both? While there's life there's hope." + +"Young man," said Fardorougha, "you carry a blessin' wid you wherever +you go, an' may God bless you for the news you have brought to us this +day! I'll go to see him tomorrow, an' wid a light heart I'll go too, for +my son is not to die." + +O'Brien then took his leave and returned home, pondering, as he went, +upon the singular contrast which existed between the character of the +miser and that of his admirable wife. He was no sooner gone than Honor +addressed her husband as follows: + +"Fardorougha, what do you think we ought both to do now afther the happy +news we've heard?" + +"I'll be guided by you, Honor; I'll be guided by you." + +"Then," said she, "go an' thank God that has taken the edge, the +bitther, keen edge off of our sufferin'; an' the best way, in my +opinion, for you to do it, is to go to the barn by yourself, an' strive +to put your whole heart into your prayers. You'll pray betther by +yourself than wid me. An' in the name of God I'll do the same as well +as I can in the house here. To-morrow, too, is Friday, an', plaise our +Saviour, we'll both fast in honor of His goodness to us an' to our son." + +"We will, Honor," said he, "we will, indeed; for now I have spirits to +fast, and spirits to pray, too. What will I say, now? Will I say the +five Decades or the whole Rosary?" + +"If you can keep your mind in the prayers, I think you ought to say the +whole of it; but if you wandher don't say more than the five." + +Fardorougha then went to the bam, rather because his wife desired him, +than from a higher motive, whilst she withdrew to her own apartment, +there humbly to worship God in thanksgiving. + +The next day had made the commutation of Connor's punishment a matter +of notoriety through the whole parish, and very sincere indeed was the +gratification it conveyed to all who heard it. Public fame, it is true, +took her usual liberties with the facts. Some said he had got a +free pardon, others that he was to be liberated after six months' +imprisonment; and a third report asserted that the lord lieutenant sent +him down a hundred pounds to fit him out for marriage with Una; and it +further added that his excellency wrote a letter with his own hand, to +Bodagh Buie, desiring him to give his daughter to Connor on receipt of +it, or if not, that the Knight of the Black Rod would come down, strip +him of his property, and bestow it upon Connor and his daughter. + +The young man himself was almost one of the first who heard of this +favorable change in his dreadful sentence. + +He was seated on his bedside reading, when the sheriff and jailer +entered his cell, anxious to lay before him the reply which had that +morning arrived from government. + +"I'm inclined to think, O'Donovan, that your case is likely to turn out +more favorably than we expected," said the humane sheriff. + +"I hope, with all my heart, it may," replied the other; "there is no +denying, sir, that I'd wish it. Life is sweet, especially to a young man +of my years." + +"But if we should fail," observed the jailer, "I trust you will act the +part of a man." + +"I hope, at all events, that I will act the part of a Christian," +returned O'Donovan. "I certainly would rather live; but I'm not afeard +of death, and if it comes, I trust I will meet it humbly but firmly." + +"I believe," said the sheriff, "you need entertain little apprehension +of death; I'm inclined to think that that part of your sentence is not +likely to be put in execution. I have heard as much." + +"I think, sir, by your manner, that you have," returned Connor; "but I +beg you to tell me without goin' about. Don't be afeared, sir, that I'm +too wake to hear either good news or bad." + +The sheriff made no reply; but placed in his hands the official document +which remitted to him the awful penalty of his life. Connor read it over +slowly, and the other kept his eye fixed keenly upon his countenance, in +order to observe his bearing under circumstances that are often known +to test human fortitude as severely as death itself. He could, however, +perceive no change; not even the unsteadiness of a nerve or muscle was +visible, nor the slightest fluctuation in the hue of his complexion. + +"I feel grateful to the lord lieutenant for his mercy to me," said he, +handing him back the letter, "as I do to the friends who interceded for +me; I never will or can forget their goodness. Oh, never, never!" + +"I believe it," said the sheriff; "but there's one thing that I'm +anxious to press upon your attention; and it's this, that no further +mitigation of your punishment is to be expected from government; so that +you must make up your mind to leave your friends and your country for +life, as you know now." + +"I expect nothing more," returned Connor, "except this, that the hand +of God may yet bring the guilt of burning home to the man that committed +it, and prove my innocence. I'm _now_ not without some hope that such a +thing may be brought about some how. I thank you, Misther Sheriff, for +your kindness in coming to me with this good news so soon; all that I +can say is, that I thank you from my heart. I am bound to say, too, that +any civility and comfort that could be shown was afforded me ever since +I came here, an' I feel it, an' I'm grateful for it." + +Both were deeply impressed by the firm tone of manly sincerity and +earnestness with which he spoke, blended as it was by a melancholy which +gave, at the same time, a character of elevation and pathos to all he +said. They then shook hands with him, after chatting for some time on +indifferent subjects, the jailer promising to make his situation while +he should remain in prison as easy as the regulations would allow him +or, "who knows," he added, smiling, "but we might make them a little +easier?" + +"That's a fine young fellow," said he to the sheriff, after they had +left him. + +"He is a gentleman," replied the sherif "by nature a gentleman; and a +very uncommon one, too. I defy a man to doubt word that comes out of +his lips; all he says is impressed with the stamp of truth itself and +by h----n's he never committed the felony he's in for! Keep him as +comfortable as you can." + +They then separated. + +The love of life is the first and strong principle in our nature, and +what man is there except some unhappy wretch pressed down by long and +galling misery to the uttermost depths of despair, who, knows that life +was forfeited, whether justly or it matters little, to the laws of his +country will not feel the mercy which bids him live with a corresponding +sense of gratitude. The son of the pious mother acted, as if she was +still his guide and monitress. + +He knelt down and poured out his gratitude to that great Being who had +the final claim upon it, and whose blessing he fervently invoked upon +the heads of those true friends by whose exertions and influence he +knew that life was restored to him. + +Of his life while he remained in this country there is little more to +be said than what is usually known to occur in the case of of convicts +similarly circumstanced, if we exclude his separation from the few +persons who were dear to him. He saw his father the next day and the +old man felt almost disappointed discovering that he was deprived of +the pleasure which he proposed to himself of be the bearer of such glad +tidings to him. Those who visited him, however, noticed with a good deal +of surprise, that he appeared as laboring under some secret aim which, +however, no tact or address on their part could induce him to disclose. +Many of them, actuated by the best motives, asked him in distinct terms +why he appeared to be troubled; but the only reply they received was a +good-humored remark that it was not to be expected that he could leave +forever all that was dear to him on earth with a very cheerful spirit. + +It was at this period that his old friend Nogher M'Cormick came to pay +him a visit; it being the last time, as he said, that he would ever have +an opportunity of seeing his face. Nogher, whose moral impressions +were by no means so correct as Connor's, asked him, with a face of dry, +peculiar mystery, if he had any particular wish unfulfilled; or if there +remained behind him any individual against whom he entertained a spirit +of enmity. If there were he begged him to make no scruple in entrusting +to him a full statement of his wishes on the subject, adding that he +might rest assured of having them accomplished. + +"One thing you may be certain of, Nogher," said he, to the affectionate +fellow, "that I have no secrets to tell; so don't let that go abroad +upon me. I have heard to-day," he added, "that the vessel we are to go +in will sail on this day week. My father was here this mornin'; but I +hadn't heard it then. Will you, Nogher, tell my mother privately that +she mustn't come to see me on the day I appointed with my father? From +the state of health she's in, I'm tould she couldn't bear it. Tell her, +then, not to come till the day before I sail; an' that I will expect +to see her early on that day. And, Nogher, as you know more about this +unhappy business than any one else, except the O'Briens and ourselves, +will you give this little packet to my mother? There's three or four +locks of my hair in it; one of them is for Una; and desire my mother to +see Una, and to get a link of her hair to wear next my heart. My poor +father--now that he finds he must part with me--is so distracted and +distressed, that I couldn't trust him with this message. I want it to +be kept a secret to every one but you, my mother, and Una; but my poor +father would he apt to mention it in some fit of grief." + +"But is there nothing else on your mind, Connor?" + +"There's no heavy guilt on my mind, Nogher, I thank my God and my dear +mother for it." + +"Well, I can tell you one thing before you go, Connor--Bartle Flanagan's +well watched. If he has been guilty--if--derry downs, who doubts +it'?--well never mind; I'll hould a trifle we get him to show the cloven +foot, and condemn himself yet." + +"The villain," said Connor, "will be too deep--too polished for you." + +"Ten to one he's not. Do you know what we've found out since this +business?" + +"No." + +"Why, the divil resave the squig of punch, whiskey, or liquor of any +sort or size he'll allow to pass the lips of him. Now, Connor, aren't +you up to the cunnin' villainy of the thraitor in that maynewvre?" + +"I am, Nogher; I see his design in it. He is afeard if he got drunk that +he wouldn't be able to keep his own secret." + +"Ah, then, by the holy Nelly, we'll sleep him yet, or he'll look sharp. +Never you mind him, Connor." + +"Nogher! stop," said Connor, almost angrily, "stop; what do you mane by +them last words?" + +"Divil a much; it's about the blaggard I'm spakin'; he'll be ped, I can +tell you. There's a few friends of yours that intinds, some o' these +nights, to open a gusset under one of his ears only; the divil a thing +more." + +"What! to take the unhappy man's life--to murdher him?" + +"Hut, Connor; who's spakin' about murdher? No, only to make him miss his +breath some night afore long. Does he desarve mercy that 'ud swear away +the life of an innocent man?" + +"Nogher," replied the other, rising up and speaking with the utmost +solemnity-- + +"If one drop of his blood is spilt on my account, it will bring the +vengeance of Heaven upon the head of every man havin' a hand in it. Will +you, because he's a villain, make yourself murdherers--make yourselves +blacker than he is?" + +"Wiry, thin, death alive! Connor, have you your seven sinsis about you? +Faith, that's good; as if it was a sin to knock such a white-livered +Judas upon the head! Sin!--oh hell resave the morsel o' sin in that but +the contrairy. Sure its only sarvin' honest people right, to knock +such a desaiver on the head. If he had parjured himself for sake of +the truth, or to assist a brother in trouble--or to help on the good +cause--it would be something; but to go to--but--arra, be me sowl, +he'll sup sarra for it, sure enough! I thought it would make your mind +aisy, or I wouldn't mintion it till we'd let the breath out of him." + +"Nogher," said Connor, "before you leave this unfortunate room, you must +take the Almighty to witness that you'll have no hand in this bloody +business, an' that you'll put a stop to it altogether. If you don't, and +that his life is taken, in the first place, I'll be miserable for life; +and in the next, take my word for it, that the judgment of God will fall +heavily upon every one consarned in it." + +"What for? Is it for slittin' the juggler of sich a rip? Isn't he as +bad as a heretic, an' worse, for he turned against his own. He has got +himself made the head of a lodge, too, and holds Articles; but it's not +bein' an Article-bearer that'll save him, an' he'll find that to his +cost. But, indeed, Connor, the villain's a double thraitor, as you'd +own, if you knew what I heard a hint of?" + +"Well, but you must lave him to God." + +"What do you think but I got a whisper that he has bad designs on her." + +"On who?" said O'Donovan (starting). + +"Why, on your own girl, Oona, the Bodagh's daughter. He intends, it's +whispered, to take her off; an' it seems, as her father doesn't stand +well with the boys, that Bartle's to get a great body of them to assist +him in bringing her away." + +Connor paced his cell in deep and vehement agitation. His resentment +against this double-dyed villain rose to a fearful pitch; his color +deepened-his eye shot fire, and, as he clenched his hand convulsively, +Nogher saw the fury which this intelligence had excited in him. + +"No," he proceeded, "it would be an open sin an' shame to let such an +etarnal limb of the devil escape." + +It may, indeed, be said that O'Donovan never properly felt the sense +of his restraint until this moment. When he reflected on the danger to +which his beloved Una was exposed from the dark plans of this detestable +villain, and recollected that there existed in the members of the +illegal confederacy such a strong spirit of enmity against Bodagh Buie, +as would induce them to support Bartle in his designs upon his daughter, +he pressed his hand against his forehead, and walked about in a tumult +of distress and resentment, such as he had never yet felt in his bosom. + +"It's a charity it will be," said Nogher, shrewdly availing himself of +the commotion he had created, "to stop the vagabone short in the coorse +of his villany. He'll surely bring the darlin' young girl off, an' +destroy her." + +For a few moments he felt as if his heart were disposed to rebel against +the common ordinances of Providence, as they appeared to be manifested +in his own punishment, and the successful villainy of Bartle Flanagan. +The reflection, however, of a strong and naturally pious mind soon +enabled him to perceive the errors into which his passions would lead +him, if not restrained and subjected. He made an effort to be calm, and +in a considerable degree succeeded. + +"Nogher," said he, "let us not forget that this Bartle--this--but I will +not say it--let us not forget that God can asily turn his plans against +himself. To God, then, let us lave him. Now, hear me--you must swear +in His presence that you will have neither act nor part in doing him +an injury--that you will not shed his blood, nor allow it to be shed by +others, as far as you can prevent it." + +Nogher rubbed his chin gravely, and almost smiled at what he considered +to be a piece of silly nonsense on the part of Connor. He determined, +therefore, to satisfy his scruples as well as he could; but, let the +consequence be what it might, to evade such an oath. + +"Why, Connor," said he, "surely, if you go to that, we can have no +ill-will against the d--n villain; an' as you don't wish it, we'll +dhrop--the thing; so now make your mind aisy, for another word you or +any one else won't ever hear about it." + +"And you won't injure the man?" + +"Hut! no," replied Nogher, with a gravity whose irony was barely +perceptible, "what would we murdher him for, now that you don't wish it? +I never had any particular wish to see my own funeral." + +"And, Nogher, you will do all you can to prevent him from being +murdhered?" + +"To be sure, Connor--to be sure. By He that made me, we won't give pain +to a single hair of his head. Are you satisfied now?" + +"I am," replied the ingenuous young man, who was himself too candid to +see through the sophistry of Nogher's oath. + +"And now, Nogher," he replied, "many a day have we spent together--you +are one of my oldest friends. I suppose this is the last time you will +ever see Connor O.'Donovan; however, don't, man--don't be cast down; you +will hear from me, I hope, and hear that I am well too." + +He uttered this with a smile which cost him an effort; for, on looking +into the face of his faithful old friend, he saw his muscles working +under the influence of strong feeling--or, I should rather say, deep +sorrow--which he felt anxious, by a show of cheerfulness, to remove. The +fountains, however, of the old servant's heart were opened, and, after +some ineffectual attempts to repress his grief, he fell upon Connor's +neck, and wept aloud. + +"Tut, Nogher," said Connor, "surely it's--glad you ought to be, instead +of sorry. What would you have done if my first sentence had been acted +upon?" + +"I'm glad for your sake," replied the other, "but I'm now sorry for my +own. You will live, Connor, and you may yet be happy; but he that often +held you in his arms--that often played with you, and that, next to your +father and mother, you loved betther than any other livin'--he, poor +Nogher, will never see his boy more." + +On uttering these words, he threw himself again upon Connor's neck, and +we are not ashamed to say that their tears flowed together. + +"I'll miss you, Connor, dear; I'll not see your face at fair or market, +nor on the chapel--green of a Sunday. Your poor father will break his +heart, and the mother's eye will never more have an opportunity of being +proud out of her son. It's hard upon me to part wid you, Connor, but it +can't be helped; I only ax you to remember Nogher, that, you know, loved +you as if you wor his own; remimber me, Connor, of an odd time. I never +thought--oh, Grod, I never thought to see this day! No wondher--oh, no +wondher that the fair young crature should be pale and worn, an' sick +at heart! I love her now, an' ever will, as well as I did yourself. I'll +never see her, Connor, widout thinkin' heavily of him that her heart was +set upon, an' that will then be far away from her an' from all that ever +loved him." + +"Nogher," replied Connor, "I'm not without hope that--but this--this is +folly. You know I have a right to be thankful to God and the goodness +of government for sparin' my life. Now, farewell--it is forever, Nogher, +an' it is a tryin' word to-day; but you know that every one goin' +to America must say it; so, think that I'm goin' there, an' it won't +signify." + +"Ah, Connor, I wish I could," replied Nogher; "but, to tell the truth, +what breaks my heart is, to think of the way you are goin' from us. +Farewell, then, Connor darlin; an' may the blessin' of God, an' His holy +mother, an' of all the saints be upon you now an' foriver. Amin!" + +His tears flowed fast, and he sobbed aloud, whilst uttering the last +words; he then threw his arms about Connor's neck, and, having kissed +him, he again wrung his hand, and passed out of the cell in an agony of +grief. + +Such is the anomalous nature of that peculiar temperament, which, in +Ireland, combines within it the extremes of generosity and crime. Here +was a man who had been literally affectionate and harmless during his +whole past life, yet, who was now actually plotting the murder of a +person who had never,--except remotely, by his treachery to Connor, whom +he loved--rendered him an injury, or given him any cause of offence. +And what can show us the degraded state of moral feeling among a people +whose natural impulses are as quick to virtue as to vice, and the +reckless estimate which the peasantry form of human life, more clearly +than the fact, that Connor, the noble--minded, heroic, and pious +peasant, could admire the honest attachment of hia old friend, without +dwelling upon the dark point in his character, and mingle his tears +with a man who was deliberately about to join in, or encompass, the +assassination of a fellow-creature! + +Even against persons of his own creed the Irishman thinks that revenge +is a duty which he owes to himself;--but against those of a different +faith it is not only a duty but a virtue--and any man who acts out +of this feeling, either as a juror, a witness, or an elector--for the +principle is the same--must expect to meet such retribution as was +suggested by a heart like Nogher M'Cormick's, which was otherwise +affectionate and honest. In the secret code of perverted honor by which +Irishmen are guided, he is undoubtedly the most heroic and manly, and +the most worthy also of imitation, who indulges in, and executes +his vengeance for injuries whether real or supposed, with the most +determined and unshrinking spirit; but the man who is capable of braving +death, by quoting his own innocence as an argument against the justice +of law, even when notoriously guilty, is looked upon by the people, not +as an innocent man--for his accomplices and friends know he is not--but +as one who is a hero in his rank of life; and it is unfortunately a kind +of ambition among too many of our ill-thinking but generous countrymen, +to propose such men as the best models for imitation, not only in their +lives, but in that hardened hypocrisy which defies and triumphs over the +ordeal of death itself. + +Connor O'Donovan was a happy representation of all that is noble and +pious in the Irish character, without one tinge of the crimes which +darken or discolor it. But the heart that is full of generosity and +fortitude, is generally most susceptible of the kinder and more amiable +affections. The noble boy, who could hear the sentence of death without +the commotion of a nerve, was forced to weep on the neck of an old and +faithful follower who loved him, when he remembered that, after that +melancholy visit, he should see his familiar face no more. When Nogher +left him, a train of painful reflections passed through his mind. He +thought of Una, of his father, of his mother, and for some time was +more depressed than usual. But the gift of life to the young is ever a +counterbalance to every evil that is less than death. In a short time he +reflected that the same Providence which had interposed between him and +his recorded sentence, had his future fate in its hands; and that he had +health, and youth, and strength--and, above all, a good conscience--to +bear him through the future vicissitudes of his appointed fate. + + + + +PART VI. + + +To those whose minds and bodies are of active habits, there can be +scarcely anything more trying than a position in which the latter is +deprived of its usual occupation, and the former forced to engage itself +only on the contemplation of that which is painful. In such a situation, +the mental and physical powers are rendered incapable of mutually +sustaining each other; for we all know that mere corporal employment +lessens affliction, or enables us in a shorter time to forget it, whilst +the acuteness of bodily suffering, on the other hand, is blunted by +those pursuits which fill the mind with agreeable impressions. During +the few days, therefore, that intervened between the last interview +which Connor held with Nogher M'Cormick, and the day of his final +departure he felt himself rather relieved than depressed by the number +of friends who came to visit him for the last time. He was left less to +solitude and himself than he otherwise would have been, and, of course, +the days of his imprisonment were neither so dreary nor oppressive +as the uninterrupted contemplation of his gloomy destiny would have +rendered them. Full of the irrepressible ardor of youth, he longed for +that change which he knew must bring him onward in the path of life; and +in this how little did he resemble the generality of other convicts, +who feel as if time were bringing about the day of their departure +with painful and more than ordinary celerity! At length the interviews +between him and all those whom he wished to see were concluded, with the +exception of three, viz.--John O'Brien and his own parents, whilst only +two clear days intervened until the period, of his departure. + +It was on the third morning previous to that unhappy event, that the +brother of his Una--the most active and indefatigable of all those +who had interested themselves for him--was announced as requiring +an interview. Connor, although prepared for this, experienced on the +occasion, as every high-minded person would do, a strong feeling of +degradation and shame as the predominant sensation. That, indeed, was +but natural, for it is undoubtedly true that we feel disgrace the more +heavily upon us in the eyes of those we esteem, than we do under any +other circumstances. This impression, however, though as we have said +the strongest,--was far from being the only one he felt. A heart like +his could not be insensible to the obligations under which the generous +and indefatigable exertions of young O'Brien had placed him. But, +independently of this, he was Una's brother, and the appearance of one +so dear to her gave to all his love for her a character of melancholy +tenderness, more deep and full than he had probably ever experienced +before. Her brother would have been received with extraordinary warmth +on his own account, but, in addition to that, Connor knew that he now +came on behalf of Una herself. It was, therefore, under a tumult of +mingled sensations, that he received him in his gloomy apartment--gloomy +in despite of all that a humane jailer could do to lessen the rigors of +his confinement. + +"I cannot welcome you to sich a place, as this is," said Connor, +grasping and wringing his hand, as the other entered, "although I may +well say that I would be glad to see you anywhere, as I am, indeed, to +see you even here. I know what I owe you, an' what you have done for +me." + +"Thank God," replied the other, returning his grasp with equal pressure, +"thank God, that, at all events, the worst of what we expected will +not----" He paused, for, on looking at O'Donovan, he observed upon +his open brow a singular depth of melancholy, mingled less with an +expression of shame, than with the calm but indignant sorrow of one who +could feel no resentment against him with whom he spoke. + +O'Brien saw, at a glance, that Connor, in consequence of something in +his manner, joined to his inconsiderate congratulations, imagined that +he believed him guilty. He lost not a moment, therefore, in correcting +this mistake. + +"It would have been dreadful," he proceeded, "to see innocent blood +shed, through the perjury of a villain--for, of course, you cannot +suppose for a moment that one of our family suppose you to be guilty." + +"I was near doin' you injustice, then," replied the other; "but I ought +to know that if you did think me so, you wouldn't now be here, nor +act as you did. Not but that I thought it possible, on another account +you----No," he added, after a pause, "that would be doin' the brother +of Una injustice." + +"You are right," returned O'Brien. "No circumstance of any kind"--and +he laid a peculiar emphasis on the words--"no circumstance of any kind +could bring me to visit a man capable of such a mean and cowardly act; +for, as to the loss we sustained, I wouldn't think of it. You, Connor +O'Donovan, are not the man to commit any act, either the one or the +other. If I did not feel this, you would not see me before you." +He extended his hand to him while he spoke, and the brow of Connor +brightened as he met his grasp. + +"I believe you," he replied; "and now I hope we may spake out like men +that undherstand one another. In case you hadn't come, I intended to +lave a message for you with my mother. I believe you know all Una's +secrets?" + +"I do," replied O'Brien, "just as well as her confessor." + +"Yes, I believe that," said Connor. "The sun in heaven is not purer than +she is. The only fault she ever could be charged with was her love for +me; and heavily, oh! far too heavily, has she suffered for it!" + +"I, for one, never blamed her on that account," said her brother. "I +knew that her good sense would have at any time prevented her from +forming an attachment to an unworthy object; and upon the strength of +her own judgment, I approved of that which she avowed for you. Indeed, I +perceived it myself before she told me; but upon attempting to gain her +secret, the candid creature at once made me her confidant." + +"It is like her," said Connor; "she is all truth. Well would it be for +her, if she had never seen me. Not even the parting from my father and +mother sinks my heart with so much sorrow, as the thought that her love +for me had made her so unhappy. It's a strange case, John O'Brien, an' +a trying one; but since it is the will of God, we must submit to it. How +did you leave her? I heard she was getting better." + +"She is better," said John--"past danger, but still very delicate and +feeble. Indeed, she is so much worn down, that you would scarcely +know her. The brightness of her dark eye is dead--her complexion gone. +Sorrow, as she says herself, is in her and upon her. Never, indeed, was +a young creature's love so pure and true." + +O'Donovan made no reply for some time; but the other observed that he +turned away his face from him, as if to conceal his emotion. At length +his bosom heaved vehemently, three or four times, and his breath came +and went with a quick and quivering motion, that betrayed the powerful +struggle which he felt. + +"I know it is but natural for you to feel deeply," continued her +brother; "but as you have borne everything heretofore with so much +firmness, you must not break down--" + +"But you know it is a deadly thrial to be forever separated from sich a +girl. Sufferin' so much as you say--so worn! Her dark eye dim with--oh, +it is, it is a deadly thrial--a heart--breaking thrial! John O'Brien," +he proceeded, with uncommon earnestness, "you are her only brother, an' +she is your only sister. Oh, will you, for the sake of God, and for my +sake, if I may take the liberty of sayin' so--but, above all things, +will you, for her own sake, when I am gone, comfort and support her, +and raise her heart, if possible, out of this heavy throuble?" + +Her brother gazed on him with a melancholy smile, in which might be read +both admiration and sympathy. + +"Do you think it possible that I would, or could omit to cherish +and sustain poor Una, under such thrying circumstances! Everything +considered, however, your words are only natural--only natural." + +"Don't let her think too much about it," continued O'Donovan. "Bring +her out as much as you can--let her not be much by herself. But this is +folly in me," he added; "you know yourself better than I can instruct +you how to act." + +"God knows," replied the brother, struck and softened by the mournful +anxiety for her welfare which Connor expressed, "God knows that all you +say, and all I can think of besides, shall be done for our dear girl--so +make your mind easy." + +"I thank you," replied the other; "from my soul an' from the bottom of +my heart, I thank you. Endeavor to make her forget me, if you can; an' +when this passes away out of her mind, she may yet be happy--a happy +wife and a happy mother--an' she can then think of her love for Connor +O'Donovan, only as a troubled dream that she had in her early life." + +"Connor," said the other, "this is not right--you must be firmer;" but +as he uttered the words of reproof, the tears almost came to his eyes. + +"As for my part," continued Connor, "what is the world to me now, that +I've lost her? It is--it is a hard and a dark fate, but why it should +fall upon us I do not know. It's as much as I can do to bear it as I +ought." + +"Well, well," replied John, "don't dwell too much on it. I have +something else to speak to you about." + +"Dwell on it!" returned the other; "as God is above me, she's not one +minute out of my thoughts; an' I tell you, I'd rather be dead this +minute, than forget her. Her memory now is the only happiness that is +left to me--my only wealth in this world." + +"No," said John, "it is not. Connor, I have now a few words to say to +you, and I know they will prove whether you are as generous as you are +said to be; and whether your love for iny sister is truly tender and +disinterested. You have it now in your power to ease her heart very much +of a heavy load of concern which she feels on your account. Your father, +you know, is now a ruined man, or I should say a poor man. You are going +out under circumstances the most painful. In the country to which you +are unhappily destined, you will have no friends--and no one living +feels this more acutely than Una; for, observe me, I am now speaking on +her behalf, and acting in her name. I am her agent. Now Una is richer +than you might imagine, being the possessor of a legacy left her by our +grandfather by my father's side. Of this legacy, she herself stands in +no need--but you may and will, when you reach a distant country. Now, +Connor, you see how that admirable creature loves you--you see how that +love would follow you to the uttermost ends of the earth. Will you, or +rather are you capable of being as generous as she is?--and can you show +her that you are as much above the absurd prejudice of the world, and +its cold forms, as he ought to be who is loved by a creature so truly +generous and delicate as Una? You know how very poorly she is at present +in health; and I tell you candidly, that your declining to accept this +as a gift and memorial by which to remember her, may be attended with +very serious consequences to her health." + +Connor kept his eyes fixed upon the speaker, with a look of deep and +earnest attention; and as O'Brien detailed with singular address +and delicacy these striking proofs of Una's affection, her lover's +countenance became an index of the truth with which his heart +corresponded to the noble girl's tenderness and generosity. He seized +O'Brien's hand. + +"John," said he, "you are worthy of bein' Una's brother, and I could say +nothing higher in your favor; but, in the mane time, you and she both +know that I want nothing to enable me to remember her by. This is a +proof, I grant you, that she loves me truly; but I knew that as well +before, as I do now. In this business I cannot comply with her wish an' +yours, an' you musn't press me. You, I say, musn't press me. Through my +whole life I have never lost my own good opinion; but if I did what you +want me now to do, I couldn't respect myself--I would feel lowered in +my own mind. In short, I'd feel unhappy, an' that I was too mane to +be worthy of your sister. Once for all, then, I cannot comply in this +business with your wish an' hers." + +"But the anxiety produced by your refusal may have very dangerous +effects on her health." + +"Then you must contrive somehow to consale my refusal from her till +she gets recovered. I couldn't do what you want me; an' if you press me +further upon it, I'll think you don't respect me as much as I'd wish +her brother to do. Oh, God of Heaven!" he exclaimed, clasping his hands, +"must I lave you, my darling Una, forever? I must, I must! an' the drame +of all we hoped is past--but never, never, will she lave my heart! Her +eye dim, an' her cheek pale! an' all forme--for a man covered with shame +and disgrace! Oh, John, John, what a heart!--to love me in spite of all +this, an' in spite of the world's opinion along with it!" + +At this moment one of the turnkeys entered, and told him that his mother +and a young lady were coming up to see him. + +"My mother!" he exclaimed, "I am glad she is come; but I didn't expect +her till the day after to--morrow. A young lady! Heavens above, what +young lady would come with my mother?" + +He involuntarily exchanged looks with O'Brien, and a thought flashed on +the instant across the minds of both. They immediately understood each +other. + +"Undoubtedly," said John, "it can be no other--it is she--it is Una. +Good God, how is this? The interview and separation will be more than +she can bear--she will sink under it." + +Connor made no reply, but sat down and pressed his right hand upon his +forehead, as if to collect energy sufficient to meet the double trial +which was now before him. + +"I have only one course, John," said he, "now, and that is, to appear to +be--what I am not--a firm--hearted man. I must try to put on a smiling +face before them." + +"If it be Una," returned the other, "I shall withdraw for a while. +I know her extreme bashfulness in many cases; and I know, too, that +anything like restraint upon her heart at present--in a word, I shall +retire for a little." + +"It may be as well," said Connor; "but so far as I am concerned, it +makes no difference--just as you think proper." + +"Your mother will be a sufficient witness," said the delicate--minded +brother; "but I will see you again after they have left you." + +"You must," replied O'Donovan. "Oh I see me--see me again. I have +something to say to you of more value even than Una's life." + +The door then opened, and assisted, or rather supported, by the governor +of the gaol, and one of the turnkeys, Honor O'Donovan and Una O'Brien +entered the gloomy cell of the guiltless convict. + +The situation in which O'Donovan was now placed will be admitted, +we think, by the reader, to have been one equally unprecedented and +distressing. It has been often said, and on many occasions with perfect +truth, that opposite states of feeling existing in the same breast +generally neutralize each other. In Connor's heart, however, there was +in this instance nothing of a conflicting nature. The noble boy's love +for such a mother bore in its melancholy beauty a touching resemblance +to the purity of his affection for Una O'Brien--each exhibiting in its +highest character those virtues which made the heart of the mother proud +and! loving, and that of his beautiful girl generous and devoted. So +far, therefore, from their appearance together tending to concentrate +his moral fortitude, it actually divided his strength, and forced him to +meet each with a I heart subdued and softened by his love for the other. + +As they entered, therefore, he approached! them, smiling as well as he +could; and, first taking a hand of each, would have led them over to a +deal form beside the fire, but it was soon evident, that, owing to their +weakness and agitation united, they required greater support. He and +O'Brien accordingly helped them to a seat, on which they sat with every +symptom of that exhaustion which results at once from illness and mental +suffering. + +Let us not forget to inform our readers that the day of this mournful +visit was that on which, according to his original sentence, he should +have yielded up his life as a penalty to the law. + +"My dear mother," said he, "you an' Una know that this day ought not to +be a day of sorrow among us. Only for the goodness of my friends, an' of +Government, it's not my voice you'd be now listening to--but that is +now changed--so no more about it. I'm glad to see you both able to come +out." + +His mother, on first sitting down, clasped her hands together, and in a +silent ejaculation, with closed eyes, raised her heart to the Almighty, +to supplicate aid and strength to enable her to part finally with that +boy who was, and ever had been, dearer to her than her own heart. Una +trembled, and on meeting her brother so unexpectedly, blushed faintly, +and, indeed, appeared to breathe with difficulty. She held a bottle of +smelling salts in her hand. + +"John," she said, "I will explain this visit." + +"My dear Una," he replied, affectionately, "you need not--it requires +none--and I beg you will not think of it one moment more. I must now +leave you together for about half an hour, as I have some business to do +in town that will detain me about that time." He then left them. + +"Connor," said his mother, "sit down between this darlin' girl an' me, +till I spake to you." + +He sat down and took a hand of each. + +"A darlin' girl she is, mother. It's now I see how very ill you have +been, my own Una." + +"Yes," she replied, "I was ill--but when I heard that your life was +spared, I got better." + +This she said with an artless but melancholy naivete, that was very +trying to the fortitude of her lover. As she spoke she looked fondly but +mournfully into his face. + +"Connor," proceeded his mother, "I hope you are fully sensible of the +mercy God has shown you, under this great trial?" + +"I hope I am, indeed, my dear mother. It is to God I surely owe it." + +"It is, an' I trust that, go where you will and live where you may, the +day will never come when you'll forget the debt you owe the Almighty, +for preventin' you from bein' cut down like a flower in the very bloom +of your life. I hope, avillish machree, that that day will never come." + +"God forbid it ever should, mother dear!" + +"Thin you may learn from what has happened, avick agus asthofe, never, +oh never, to despair of God's mercy--no matter into what thrial or +difficulty you maybe brought. You see, whin you naither hoped for it +here, nor expected it, how it came for all that." + +"It did, blessed be God!" + +"You're goin' now, ahagur, to a strange land, where you'll meet--ay, +where my darlin' boy will meet the worst of company; but remember, +alanna avillish, that your mother, well as she loves you, an' well, I +own, as you deserve to be loved--that mother that hung over the cradle +of her only one--that dressed him, an' reared him, an' felt many a proud +heart out of him--that mother would sooner at any time see him in his +grave, his sowl bein' free from stain, than to know that his heart was +corrupted by the world, an' the people you'll meet in it." + +Something in the last sentence must have touched a chord in Una's heart, +for the tears, without showing any other' external signs of emotion, +streamed down her cheeks. + +"My advice, then, to you--an' oh, avick machree, machree, it is my last, +the last you will ever hear from my lips--" + +"Oh, mother, mother!" exclaimed Connor, but he could not proceed--voice +waa denied him, Una here sobbed aloud. + +"You bore your thrial nobly, my darlin' son--you must thin bear this +as well; an' you, a colleen dhas, remember your promise to me afore I +consulted to come with you this day." + +The weeping girl here dried her eyes, and, by a strong effort, hushed +her grief. + +"My advice, thin, to you, is never to neglect your duty to God; for, if +you do it wanst or twist, you'll begin by degrees to get careless--thin, +bit by bit, asthore, your heart will harden, your conscience will leave +you, an' wickedness, an' sin, an' guilt will come upon you. It's no +matter, asthore, how much wicked comrades may laugh an' jeer at you, +keep you thrue to the will of your good God, an' to your religious +duties, an' let them take their own coorse. Will you promise me to do +this, _avuillish machree?_" + +"Mother, I have always sthrove to do it, an' with God's assistance, +always will." + +"An', my son, too, will you bear up undher this like a man? Remember, +Connor darlin', that although you're lavin' us forever, yet your poor +father an' I have the blessed satisfaction of knowin' that we're not +childless--that you're alive, an' that you may yet do well an' be +happy. I mintion these things, acushla machree, to show you that there's +nothin' over you so bad, but you may show yourself firm and manly undher +it--act as you have done. It's you, asthore, ought to comfort your +father an me; an' I hope, whin you're parted from, him, that you +'ill--Oh God, support him! I wish, Connor, darlin', that that partin' +was over, but I depend upon you to make it as light upon him as you can +do." + +She paused, apparently from exhaustion. Indeed, it was evident, either +that she had little else to add, or that she felt too weak to speak much +more, with such a load of sorrow and affliction on her heart. + +"There is one thing, Connor jewel, that I needn't mintion. Of coorse +you'll write to us as often as you convaniently can. Oh, do not forget +that! for you know that that bit of paper from your own hand, is all +belongin' to you we will ever see more. Avick machree, machree, many +a long look--out we will have for it. It may keep the ould man's heart +from breakin'." + +She was silent, but, as she uttered the last words, there was a shaking +of the voice, which gave clear proof of the difficulty with which she +went through the solemn task of being calm, which, for the sake of her +son, she had heroically imposed upon herself. + +She was now silent, but, as is usual with Irish women under the +influence of sorrow, she rocked herself involuntary to and fro, whilst, +with closed eyes, and hands clasped as before, she held communion with +God, the only true source of comfort. + +"Connor," she added, after a pause, during which he and Una, though +silent from respect to her, were both deeply affected; "sit fornint me, +avick machree, that, for the short time you're to be with me, I may +have you before my eyes. Husth now, a colleen machree, an' remimber your +promise. Where's the stringth you said you'd show?" + +She then gazed with a long look of love and sorrow upon the fine +countenance of her manly son, and nature would be no longer restrained-- + +"Let me lay my head upon your breast," said she; "I'm attemptin' too +much--the mother's heart will give out the mother's voice--will speak +the mother's sorrow! Oh, my son, my son, my darlin', manly son--are you +lavin' your lovin' mother for evermore, for evermore?" + +She was overcome; placing her head upon his bosom, her grief fell into +that beautiful but mournful wail with which, in Ireland, those of her +sex weep over the dead. + +Indeed, the scene assumed a tenderness, from this incident, which was +inexpressibly affecting, inasmuch as the cry of death was but little out +of place when bewailing that beloved boy, whom, by the stern decree of +law, she was never to see again. + +Connor kissed her pale cheek and lips, and rained down a flood of +bitter tears upon her face; and Una, borne away by the enthusiasm of her +sorrow, threw her arms also around her, and wept aloud. + +At length, after having, in some degree, eased her heart, she sat up, +and with that consideration and good sense for which she had ever been +remarkable, said-- + +"Nature must have its way; an' surely, within reason, it's not sinful, +seein' that God himself has given us the feelin's of sorrow, whin thim +that we love is lavin' us--lavin' us never, never to see them agin. It's +only nature, afther all; and now ma colleen dhas"-- + +Her allusion to the final separation of those who love--or, in her +own words, "to the feelin's of sorrow, whin thim that we love is lavin +us"--was too much for the heart and affections of the fair girl at her +side, whose grief now passed all the bounds which her previous attempts +at being firm had prescribed to it. + +[Illustration: PAGE 282-- O'Donovan took the beloved one in his arms] + +O'Donovan took the beloved one in his arms, and, in the long embrace +which ensued, seldom were love and sorrow so singularly and mournfully +blended. + +"I don't want to prevent you from cryin' a colleen machree; for I know +it will lighten an' aise your heart," said Honor; "but remimber your +wakeness an' your poor health; an', Connor avourneen, don't you--if you +love her--don't forget the state her health's in either." + +"Mother, mother, you know it's the last time I'll ever look upon my +Una's face again," he exclaimed. "Oh, well may I be loath an' unwillin' +to part with her. You'll think of me, my darlin' life, when I'm +gone--not as a guilty man, Una dear, but as one that if he ever +committed a crime, it was lovin' you an' bringin' you to this unhappy +state." + +"God sees my heart this day," she replied--and she spoke with +difficulty--"that I could and would have travelled over the world; +borne joy and sorrow, hardship and distress--good fortune and bad--all +happily, if you had been by my side--if you had not been taken from +me. Oh, Connor, Connor, you may well pity your Una--for yours I am and +was--another's I never will be. You are entering into scenes that will +relieve you by their novelty--that will force you to think of other +things and of other persons than those you've left behind you; but +oh, what Can I look upon that will not fill my heart with despair and +sorrow, by reminding me of you and your affection?" + +"Fareer gair," exclaimed the mother, speaking involuntarily aloud, and +interrupting her own words with sobs of bitter anguish--"Fareer gair, +ma colleen dhas, but that's the heavy truth with us all. Oh, the ould +man--the ould man's heart will break all out, when he looks upon the +place, an' everything else that our boy left behind him." + +"Dear Una," said Connor, "you know that we're partin' now forever." + +"My breaking heart tells me that," she replied. "I would give the wealth +of the world that it was not so--I would--I would." + +"Listen to me, my own life. You must not let love for me lie so +heavy upon your heart. Go out and keep your mind employed upon other +thoughts--by degrees you'll forget--no, I don't think you could +altogether forget me--me--the first, Una, you ever loved." + +"And the last, Connor--the last I ever will love." + +"No, no. In the presence of my lovin' mother I say that you must not +think that way. Time will pass, my own Una, an' you will yet be happy +with some other. You're very young; an', as I said, time will wear me by +degrees out of your mimory."-- + +Una broke hastily from his embrace, for she lay upon his breast all this +time-- + +"Do you think so, Connor O'Donovan?" she exclaimed; but on looking into +his face, and reading the history of deep--seated sorrow which appeared +there so legible, she again "fled to him and wept." + +"Oh, no," she continued, "I cannot quarrel with you now; but you do +the heart of your own Una injustice, if you think it could ever feel +happiness with another. Already I have my mother's consent to enter a +convent--and to enter a convent is my fixed determination." + +"Oh, mother," said Connor, "How will I lave this blessed girl? how will +I part with her?" + +Honor rose up, and, by two or three simple words, disclosed more +forcibly, more touchingly, than any direct exhibition of grief could +have done, the inexpressible power of the misery she felt at this +eternal separation from her only boy. She seized Una's two hands, and, +kissing her lips, said, in tones of the most heart--rending pathos-- + +"Oh, Una, Una, pity me--I am his mother!" + +Una threw herself into her arms, and sobbed out-- + +"Yes, and mine." + +"Thin you'll obey me as a daughter should," said Honor. "This is too +much for you, Oona; part we both must from him, an' neither of us is +able to bear much, more." + +She here gave Connor a private signal to be firm, pointing unobservedly +to Una's pale cheek, which at that moment lay upon her bosom. + +"Connor," she proceeded, "Oona has what you sent her. Nogher--an' he +is breakin' his heart too--gave it to me; an' my daughter, for I will +always call her so, has it this minute next her lovin' heart. Here is +hers, an' let it lie next yours." + +Connor seized the glossy ringlet from his mother's hand, and placed it +at the moment next to the seat of his undying affection for the fair +girl from whose ebon locks it had been taken. + +His mother then kissed Una again, and, rising, said-- + +"Now, my daughther, remimber I am your mother, an' obey me." + +"I will," said Una, attempting to repress her grief--"I will; but--" + +"Yes, darlin', you will. Now, Connor, my son, my son--Connor?" + +"What is it, mother, darlin'?" + +"We're goin', Connor,--we're lavin' you--be firm--be a man. Aren't +you my son, Connor? my only son--an' the ould man--an' never, never +more--kneel down--kneel down, till I bless you. Oh, many, many a +blessin' has risen from your mother's lips an' your mother's heart, to +Heaven for you, my son, my son!" + +Connor knelt, his heart bursting, but he knelt not alone. By his side +was his own Una, with meek and bended head, awaiting for his mothers +blessing. + +She then poured forth that blessing; first: upon him who was nearest to +her heart, and afterwards upon the worn but still beautiful; girl, whose +love for that adored son had made her so inexpressibly dear to her. +Whilst! she uttered this fervent but sorrowful benediction, a hand was +placed upon the head of each, after which she stooped and kissed them +both, but without shedding a single tear. + +"Now," said she, "comes the mother's wakeness; but my son will help me +by his manliness--so will my daughter. I am very weak. Oh, what heart +can know the sufferin's of this hour, but mine? My son, my son--Connor +O'Donovan, my son!" + +At this moment John O'Brien entered the room; but the solemnity and +pathos of her manner and voice hushed him so completely into silent +attention, that it is probable she did not perceive him. + +"Let me put my arms about him and kiss his lips once more, an' then I'll +say farewell." + +She again approached the boy, who S opened his arms to receive her, +and, after having kissed him and looked into his face, said, "I will now +go--I will' now go;" but instead of withdrawing, as she had intended, it +was observed that she pressed him more closely to her heart than before; +plied her hands about his neck and bosom, as if she were not actually +conscious of what she did; and at length sunk into a forgetfulness of +all her misery upon the aching breast of her unhappy son. + +"Now," said Una, rising into a spirit of; unexpected fortitude, "now, +Connor, I will be her daughter, and you must be her son. The moment +she recovers we must separate, and in such a manner as to show that our +affection for each other shall not be injurious to her." + +"It is nature only," said her brother; "or, in other words, the love +that is natural to such a mother for such a son, that has overcome her. +Connor, this must be ended." + +"I am willing it should," replied the other. "You must assist them +home, and let me see you again tomorrow. I have something of the deepest +importance to say to you." + +Una's bottle of smelling salts soon relieved the woe-worn mother; and, +ere the lapse of many minutes, she was able to summon her own natural +firmness of character. The lovers, too, strove to be firm; and, +after one long and last embrace, they separated from Connor with more +composure than, from the preceding scene, might have been expected. + +The next day, according to promise, John O'Brien paid him an early +visit, in order to hear what Connor had assured him was of more +importance even than Una's life itself. Their conference was long and +serious, for each felt equally interested in its subject-matter. When it +was concluded, and they had separated, O'Brien's friends observed +that he appeared like a man whose mind was occupied by something that +occasioned him to feel deep anxiety. What the cause of this secret care +was, he did not disclose to anyone except his father, to whom, in a few +days afterwards, he mentioned it. His college vacation had now +nearly expired; but it was mutually agreed upon, in the course of the +communication he then made, that for the present he should remain with +them at home, and postpone his return to Maynooth, if not abandon the +notion of the priesthood altogether. When the Bodagh left his son, after +this dialogue, his open, good-humored countenance seemed clouded, +his brow thoughtful, and his whole manner that of a man who has heard +something more than usually unpleasant; but, whatever this intelligence +was, he, too, appeared equally studious to conceal it. The day now +arrived on which Connor O'Donovan was to see his other parent for the +last time, and this interview he dreaded, on the old man's account, more +than he had done even the separation from his mother. Our readers may +judge, therefore, of his surprise on finding that his father exhibited +a want of sorrow or of common feeling that absolutely amounted almost to +indifference. + +Connor felt it difficult to account for a change so singular and +extraordinary in one with whose affection for himself he was so well +acquainted. A little time, however, and an odd hint or two thrown out +in the early part of their conversation, soon enabled him to perceive, +either that the old man labored under some strange hallucination, or had +discovered a secret source of comfort known only to himself. At +length, it appeared to the son that he had discovered the cause of this +unaccountable change in the conduct of his father; and, we need scarcely +assure our readers, that his heart sank into new and deeper distress at +the words from which he drew the inference. + +"Connor," said the miser, "I had great luck yestherday. You remember +Antony Cusack, that ran away from me wid seventy-three pounds fifteen +shillin's an' nine pence, now betther than nine years ago. Many a curse +he had from me for his roguery; but somehow, it seems he only thruv +under them. His son Andy called on me yestherday mornin' an' paid me to +the last farden, inthrest an' all. Wasn't I in luck?" + +"It was very fortunate, father, an' I'm glad of it" + +"It was, indeed, the hoighth o' luck. Now, Connor, you think one thing, +an' that is, that; we're partin' forever, an' that we'll never see one +another till we meet in the next world. Isn't that what you think?--eh, +Connor?" + +"It's hard to tell what may happen, father. We may see one another even +in this; stranger things have been brought about." + +"I tell you, Connor, we'll meet agin; I have made out a plan in my own +head for that; but the luckiest of all was the money yestherday." + +"What is the plan, father?" + +"Don't ax me, avick, bekase it's betther for you not to know it. I may +be disappointed, but it's not likely aither; still it 'ud be risin' +expectations in you, an' if it didn't come to pass, you'd only be more +unhappy; an' you know, Connor darlin', I wouldn't wish to be the manes +of making your poor heart sore for one minute. God knows the same young +heart has suffered enough, an' more than it ought to suffer. Connor?" + +"Well, father?" + +"Keep up your spirits, darlin', don't be at all cast down, I tell you." + +The old man caught his son's hands ere he spoke, and uttered these words +with a voice of such tenderness and affection, that Connor, on seeing +him assume the office of comforter, contrary to all he had expected, +felt himself more deeply touched than if his father had fallen, as was +his wont, into all the impotent violence of grief. + +"It was only comin' here to-day, Connor, that I thought of this plan; +but I wish to goodness your poor mother knew it, for thin, maybe she'd +let me mintion it to you." + +"If it would make me any way unhappy," replied Connor, "I'd rather not +hear it; only, whatever it is, father, if it's against my dear mother's +wishes, don't put it in practice." + +"I couldn't, Connor, widout her consint, barrin' we'd--but there's no us +in that; only keep up your spirits, Connor dear. Still I'm glad it came +into my head, this plan; for if I thought that I'd never see you agin, I +wouldn't know how to part wid you; my heart 'ud fairly break, or my +head 'ud get light. Now, won't you promise me not to fret, acushla +machree--an' to keep your heart up, an' your spirits?" + +"I'll fret as little as I can, father. You know there's not much +pleasure in frettin', an' that no one would fret if they could avoid it; +but will you promise me, my dear father, to be guided an' advised, in +whatever you do, or intend to do, by my mother--my blessed mother?" + +"I will--I will, Connor; an' if I had always done so, maybe it isn't +here now you'd be standing, an' my heart breakin' to look at you; but, +indeed, it was God, I hope, put this plan into my head; an' the money +yestherday--that, too, was so lucky--far more so, Connor dear, than you +think. Only for that--but sure no matther, Connor, we're not partin' for +evermore now; so acushla machree, let your mind be aisy. Cheer up, cheer +up my darlin' son." + +Much more conversation of this kind took place between them during +the old man's stay, which he prolonged almost to the last hour. Connor +wondered, as was but natural, what the plan so recently fallen upon by +his father could be. Indeed, sometimes, he feared that the idea of their +separation had shaken his intellect, and that his allusions to this +mysterious discovery, mixed up, as they were, with the uncommon delight +he expressed at having recovered Cusack's money, boded nothing less than +the ultimate derangement of his faculties. One thing, however, seemed +obvious--that, whatever it might be, whether reasonable or otherwise, +his father's mind was exclusively occupied by it; and that, during the +whole scene of their parting, it sustained him in a manner for which he +felt it utterly impossible to account. It is true he did not leave him +without shedding tears, and bitter tears; but they were unaccompanied +by the wild vehemence of grief which had, on former occasions, raged +through and almost desolated his heart. The reader may entertain some +notion of what he would have felt on this occasion, were it not for the +"plan" as he called it, which supported him so much, when we tell him +that he blessed his son three or four times dining their interview, +without being conscious; that he had blessed him more than once. His +last words to him were to keep up his spirits, for that there was little +doubt that they would meet again. + +The next morning, at daybreak, "their noble boy," as they fondly and +proudly called him, was conveyed, to the transport, in company with many +others; and at the hour of five o'clock p. m., that melancholy vessel +weighed anchor, and spread her broad sails to the bosom of the ocean. + +Although the necessary affairs of life are, after all, the great +assuager of sorrow, yet there are also cases where the heart persists in +rejecting the consolation brought by time, and in clinging to the memory +of that which it loved. Neither Honor O'Donovan nor Una O'Brien could +forget our unhappy hero, nor school their affections into the apathy of +ordinary feelings. Of Fardorougha we might say the same; for, although +he probably felt the want of his son's presence more keenly even than +his wife, yet his grief, notwithstanding its severity, was mingled with +the interruption of a habit--such as is frequently the prevailing +cause of sorrow in selfish and contracted minds. That there was much +selfishness in his grief, our readers, we dare say, will admit. At all +events, a scene which took place between him and his wife, on the night +of the day which saw Connor depart from his native land forever, will +satisfy them of the different spirit which marked their feelings on that +unfortunate occasion. + +Honor had, as might be expected, recovered her serious composure, and +spent a great portion of that day in offering up her prayers for the +welfare of their son. Indeed, much of her secret grief was checked by +the alarm which she felt for her husband, whose conduct on that morning +before he left home was marked by the wild excitement, which of late had +been so peculiar to him. Her surprise was consequently great when she +observed, on his return, that he manifested a degree of calmness, if +not serenity, utterly at variance with the outrage of his grief, or, we +should rather say, the delirium of his despair, in the early part of the +day. She resolved, however, with her usual discretion, not to catechize +him on the subject, lest his violence might revive, but to let his +conduct explain itself, which she knew in a little time it would do. +Nor was she mistaken. Scarcely had an hour elapsed, when, with something +like exultation, he disclosed his plan, and asked her advice and +opinion. She heard it attentively, and for the first time since the +commencement of their affliction, did the mother's brow seem unburdened +of the sorrow which sat upon it, and her eye to gleam with something +like the light of expected happiness. It was, however, on their +retiring to rest that night that the affecting contest took place, +which exhibited so strongly the contrast between their characters. We +mentioned, in a preceding part of this narrative, that ever since her +son's incarceration Honor had slept in his bed, and with her head on the +very pillow which he had so often pressed. As she was about to retire, +Fardorougha, for a moment, appeared to forget his "plan," and everything +but the departure of his son. He followed Honor to his bedroom, which he +traversed, distractedly clasping his hands, kissing his boy's clothes, +and uttering sentiments of extreme misery and despair. + +"There's his bed," he exclaimed; "there's our boy's bed--but where is +he himself? gone, gone forever! There's his clothes, our darlin' son's +clothes; look at them. Oh God! oh God! my heart will break outright. Oh +Connor, our boy, our boy, are you gone from us forever! We must sit down +to our breakfast in the mornin', to our dinner, an' to our supper at +night, but our noble boy's face we'll never see--his voice we'll never +hear." + +"Ah, Fardorougha, it's thrue, it's thrue!" replied the wife; "but +remember he's not in the grave, not in the clay of the churchyard; we +haven't seen him carried there, and laid down undher the heart--breakin' +sound of the dead--bell; we haven't hard the cowld noise of the clay +fallin' in upon his coffin. Oh no, no--thanks, everlastin' thanks to +God, that has spared our boy's life! How often have you an' I hard +people say over the corpses of their children, 'Oh, if he was only alive +I didn't care in what part of the world it was, or if I was never to see +his face again, only that he was livin'!' An' wouldn't they, Fardorougha +dear, give the world's wealth to--have their wishes? Oh they would, they +would--an' thanks forever be to the Almighty! our boy is livin' and may +yit be happy. Fardorougha, let us not fly into the face of God, who has +in His mercy spared our son." + +"I'll sleep in his bed," replied the husband; "on the very spot he lay +on I'll he." + +This was, indeed, trenching, and selfishly trenching upon the last +mournful privilege of the mother's heart. Her sleeping here was one of +those secret but melancholy enjoyments, which the love of a mother or +of a wife will often steal, like a miser's theft, from the very hoard of +their own sorrows. In fact, she was not prepared for this, and when he +spoke she looked at him for some time in silent amazement. + +"Oh, no, Fardorougha dear,the mother, the mother, that her breast was +so often his pillow, has the best right, now that he's gone, to lay her +head where his lay. Oh, for Heaven's sake, lave that poor pleasure to +me, Fardorougha!" + +"No, Honor, you can bear up undher grief better than I can. I must sleep +where my boy slept." + +"Fardorougha, I could go upon my knees! to you, an' I will, avourneen, +if you'll grant me this." + +"I can't, I can't," he replied, distractedly; "I could sleep nowhere +else. I love everything belongin' to him. I can't, Honor, I can't, I +can't." + +"Fardorougha, my heart--his mother's heart is fixed upon it, an' was. Oh +lave this to me, acushla, lave this to me--it's all I axe!" + +"I couldn't, I couldn't--my heart is breakin'--it'll be sweet to +me--I'll think I'll be nearer him," and as he uttered these words the +tears flowed copiously down his cheeks. + +His affectionate wife was touched with compassion, and immediately +resolved to let him have his way, whatever it might cost herself. "God +pity you," she said; "I'll give it up, I'll give it up, Fardorougha. Do +sleep where he slep'; I can't blame you, nor I don't; for sure it's only +a proof of how much you love him." She then bade him good--night, and, +with spirits dreadfully weighed down by this singular incident, withdrew +to her lonely pillow; for Connor's bed had been a single one, in which, +of course, two persons could not sleep together. Thus did these bereaved +parents retire to seek that rest which nothing but exhausted nature +seemed disposed to give them, until at length they fell asleep under the +double shadow of night and a calamity which filled their hearts with so +much distress and misery. + +In the mean time, whatever these two families might have felt for +the sufferings of their respective children in consequence of Bartle +Flanagan's villainy, that plausible traitor had watched the departure of +his victim with a palpitating anxiety almost equal to what some unhappy +culprit, in the dock of a prison, would experience when the foreman of +his jury handed down the sentence which is either to hang or acquit him. +Up to the very moment on which the vessel sailed, his cruel but cowardly +heart was literally sick with the apprehension that Connor's mitigated +sentence might be still further commuted to a term of imprisonment. +Great, therefore, was his joy, and boundless his exultation on +satisfying himself that he was now perfectly safe in the crime he had +committed, and that his path was never to be crossed by him, whom, +of all men living, he had most feared and hated. The reader is not +to suppose, however, that by the ruin of Connor, and the revenge he +consequently had gained upon Fardorougha, the scope of his dark designs +was by any means accomplished. Far from it; the fact is, his measures +were only in a progressive state. In Nogher M'Cormick's last interview +with Connor, our readers will please to remember that a hint had been +thrown out by that attached old follower, of Flanagan's entertaining +certain guilty purposes involving nothing less than the abduction of +Una. Now, in justice even to Flanagan, we are bound to say that no +one living had ever received from himself any intimation of such an +intention. The whole story was fabricated by Nogher for the purpose of +getting Connor's consent to the vengeance which it had been determined +to execute upon his enemy. By a curious coincidence, however,the story, +though decidedly false so far as Nogher knew to the contrary, happened +to be literally and absolutely true. Flanagan, indeed, was too skilful +and secret, either to precipitate his own designs until the feeling of +the parties should abate and settle down, or to place himself at the +mercy of another person's honesty. He knew his own heart too well to +risk his life by such dangerous and unseasonable confidence. Some months +consequently passed away since. Connor's departure, when an event took +place, which gave him still greater security. This was nothing less than +the fulfilment by Fardorougha of that plan to which he looked forward +with such prospective satisfaction, Connor had not been a month gone +when his father commenced to dispose of his property, which he soon did, +having sold out his farm to good advantage. He then paid his rent, the +only debt he owed; and, having taken a passage to New South Wales for +himself and Honor, they departed with melancholy satisfaction to seek +that son without whose society they found their desolate hearth gloomier +than the cell of a prison. + +This was followed, too, by another circumstance--but one apparently of +little importance--which was, the removal of Biddy Nulty to the Bodagh's +family, through the interference of Una, by whom she was treated with +singular affection, and admitted to her confidence. + +Such was the position of the parties after, the lapse of five months +subsequent to the transportation of Connor. Flanagan had conducted +himself with great circumspection, and, so far as public observation +could go, with much propriety. There was no change whatsoever +perceptible, either in his dress or manner except that alluded to by +Nogher of his altogether declining to taste any intoxicating liquor. In +truth, so well did he act his part, that the obloquy raised against him +at the period of Connor's trial was nearly, if not altogether, removed, +and many persons once more adopted an impression of his victim's guilt. + +With respect to the Bodagh and his son, the anxiety which we have +described them as feeling in consequence of the latter's interview with +O'Donovan, was now completely removed. Una's mother had nearly forgotten +both the crime and its consequences; but upon the spirit of her daughter +there appeared to rest a silent and settled sorrow not likely to be +diminished or removed. Her cheerfulness had abandoned her, and many an +hour did she contrive to spend with Biddy Nulty, eager in the mournful +satisfaction of talking over all that affection prompted of her banished +lover. + +We must now beg our readers to accompany us to a scene of a different +description from any we have yet drawn. The night of a November day had +set in, or rather had advanced so far as nine o'clock, and towards the +angle of a small three-cornered field, called by a peculiar coincidence +of name, Oona's Handkerchief, in consequence of an old legend connected +with it, might be seen moving a number of straggling figures, sometimes +in groups of fours and fives; sometimes in twos or threes as the case +might be, and not unfrequently did a single straggler advance, and, +after a few private words, either join the others or proceed alone to a +house situated in the angular corner of the field to which we allude. As +the district was a remote one, and the night rather dark, several shots +might be heard as they proceeded, and several flashes in the pan seen +from the rusty arms of those who were probably anxious to pull a trigger +for the first time. The country, at the period we write of, be it +observed, was in a comparative state of tranquility, and no such thing +as a police corps had been heard of or known in the neighborhood. + +At the lower end of a long, level kind of moor called the Black Park, +two figures approached a* kind of gate or pass that opened into it. +One of them stood until the other advanced, and, in a significant tone, +asked who comes there? + +"A friend to the guard," was the reply. + +"Good morrow," said the other. + +"Good morrow mornin' to you." + +"What age are you in?" + +"In the end of the Fifth." + +"All right; come on, boy; the true blood's in you, whoever you are." + +"An' is it possible you don't know me, Dandy?" + +"Faix, it is; I forgot my spectacles tonight. Who the dickins are you at +all?" + +"I suppose you purtind to forget Ned M'Cormick?" + +"Is it Nogher's son?" + +"The divil a other; an', Dandy Duffy, how are you, man alive?" + +"Why, you see, Ned, I've been so long out of the counthry, an' I'm now +so short a time back, that, upon my sowl, I forget a great many of my +ould acquaintances, especially them that wor only slips when I wint +acrass. Faith, I'm purty well considherin, Ned, I thank you." + +"Bad luck to them that sint you acrass, Dandy; not but that you got +off purty well on the whole, by all accounts. They say only that Rousin +Redhead swore like a man you'd 'a' got a touch of the Shaggy Shoe." + +"To the divil wid it all now, Ned; let us have no more about it; I don't +for my own part like to think of it. Have you any notion of what we're +called upon for to--night?" + +"Divil the laste; but I believe, Dandy, that Bartle's not the +white-headed boy wid you no more nor wid some more of us." + +"Him! a double-distilled villain. Faith, there wor never good that had +the white liver; an' he has it to the backbone. My brother Lachlin, +that's now dead, God rest him, often tould me about the way he tricked +him and Barney Bradly when they wor greenhorns about nineteen or twenty. +He got them to join him in stealin' a sheep for their Christmas dinner, +he said; so they all three stole it; an' the blaggard skinned and cut +it up, sendin' my poor boacun of a brother home to hide the skin in the +straw in our barn, and poor Barney, wid only the head an' trotters, +to hide them in his father's tow-house. Very good; in a day or two +the neighbors wor all called upon to clear themselves upon the holy +Evangelisp; and the two first that he egg'd an' to do it was my brother +an' Barney. Of coorse he switched the primmer himself that he was +innocent; but whin it was all over some one sint Jarmy Campel, that lost +the sheep, to the very spot where they hid the fleece an' trot--ters. +Jarmy didn't wish to say much about it; so he tould them if they'd +fairly acknowledge it an' pay him betune them for the sheep, he'd dhrop +it. My father an' Andy Bradly did so, an' there it ended; but purshue +the morsel of mutton ever they tasted in the mane time. As for Bartle, +he managed the thing so well that at the time they never suspected him, +although divil a other could betray them, for he was the only one knew +it; an' he had the aiten o' the mutton, too, the blaggard! Faith, Ned, I +know him well." + +"He has conthrived to get a strong back o' the boys, anyhow." + +"He has, an' 'tis that, and bekase he's a good hand to be undher for my +revinge on Blennerhasset, that made me join him." + +"I dunna what could make him refuse to let Alick Nulty join him?" + +"Is it my cousin from Annaloghan? an' did he?" + +"Divil a lie in it; it's as thrue as you're standin' there; but do you +know what is suspected?" + +"No." + +"Why, that he has an eye on Bodagh Buie's daughter. Alick towld me that, +for a long time afther Connor O'Donovan was thransported, the father an' +son wor afeard of him. He hard it from his sister Biddy, an' it appears +that the Bodagh's daughter tould her family that he used to stare her +out of countenance at mass, an' several times struv to put the furraun +on her in hopes to get acquainted." + +"He would do it; an' my hand to you, if he undhertakes it he'll not +fail; an' I'll tell you another thing, if he suspected that I knew +anything about the thraitherous thrick he put on my poor brother, +the divil a toe he'd let me join him; but you see I--was only a mere +gorsoon, a child I may say at the time. + +"At all events let us keep an eye on him; an' in regard to Connor +O'Donovan's business, let him not be too sure that it's over wid him +yet. At any rate, by dad, my father has slipped out a name upon him an' +us that will do him no good. The other boys now call us the Stags of +Lisdhu, that bein' the place where his father lived, an' the nickname +you see rises out of his thrachery to poor Connor O'Donovan." + +"Did he ever give any hint himself about carryin' away the Bodagh's +pretty daughter?" + +"Is it him'? Oh, oh! catch him at it; he's a damn sight too close to do +any sich thing." + +After some further conversation upon that and other topics, they arrived +at the place of appointment, which was a hedge school-house; one of +those where the master, generally an unmarried man, merely wields his +sceptre during school-hours, leaving it open and uninhabited for the +rest of the twenty-four. + +The appearance of those who were here assembled was indeed singularly +striking. A large fire of the unconsumed peat brought by the scholars on +that morning, was kindled in the middle of the floor--it's usual site. +Around, upon stones, hobs, bosses, and seats of various descriptions, +sat the "boys"--some smoking and others drinking; for upon nights of +this kind, a shebeen-housekeeper, uniformly a member of such societies, +generally attends for the sale of his liquor, if he cannot succeed +in prevailing on them to hold their meetings in his own house--a +circumstance which for many reasons may not be in every case advisable. +As they had not all yet assembled, nor the business of the night +commenced, they were, of course, divided into several groups and engaged +in various amusements. In the lower end of the house was a knot, busy at +the game of "spoiled five," their ludicrous table being the crown of a +hat, placed upon the floor in the centre. These all sat upon the ground, +their legs stretched out, their torch-bearer holding a lit bunch of fir +splinters, stuck for convenience sake into the muzzle of a horse-pistol. +In the upper end, again, sat another clique, listening to a man who +was reading a treasonable ballad. Such of them as could themselves read +stretched over their necks in eagerness to peruse it along with him, +and such as could not--indeed, the greater number--gave force to its +principles by very significant gestures; some being those of melody, and +others those of murder; that is to say, part of them were attempting +to hum a tune in a low voice, suitable to the words, whilst others more +ferocious brandished their weapons, as if those against whom the spirit +of the ballad was directed had been then within the reach of their +savage passions. Beside the fire, and near the middle of the house, sat +a man, who, by his black stock and military appearance, together with a +scar over his brow that gave him a most repulsive look, was evidently +a pensioner or old soldier. This person was engaged in examining +some rusty fire-arms that had been submitted to his inspection. His +self-importance was amusing, as was also the deferential aspect of +those who, with arms in their hands, hammering flints or turning screws, +awaited patiently their turn for his opinion of their efficiency. But +perhaps the most striking group of all was that in which a thick-necked, +bull-headed young fellow, with blood-colored hair, a son of Rousin +Redhead's--who, by the way, was himself present--and another +beetle-browed slip were engaged in drawing for a wager, upon one of +the school-boy's slates, the figure of a coffin and cross-bones. A +hardened-looking old sinner, with murder legible in his face, held the +few half-pence which they wagered in his open hand, whilst in the other +he clutched a pole, surmounted by a bent bayonet that had evidently seen +service. The last group worthy of remark was composed of a few +persons who were writing threatening notices upon a leaf torn out of +a school-boy's copy, which was laid upon what they formerly termed a +copy-board, of plain deal, kept upon the knees, as a substitute for +desks, while the boys were writing. This mode of amusement was called +waiting for the Article-bearer, or the Captain, for such was Bartle +Flanagan, who now entered the house, and saluted all present with great +cordiality. + +"Begad, boys," he said, "our four guards widout is worth any money. I +had to pass the sign-word afore 'I could pass myself, and that's the +way it ought to be. But, boys, before we go further, an' for fraid of +thraitors, I must call the rowl. You'll stand in a row roun' the walls, +an' thin we can make sure that there's no spies among us." + +He then called out a roll of those who were members of his lodge and, +having ascertained that all was right, he proceeded immediately to +business. + +"Rousin Redhead, what's the raisin you didn't take the arms from Captain +St. Ledger's stewart? Sixteen men armed was enough to do it, an' yees +failed." + +"Ay, an' if you had been wid us, and sixteen more to the back o' that, +you'd failed too. Begarra, captain dear, it seems that good people is +scarce. Look at Mickey Mulvather there, you see his head tied up; but +aldo he can play cards well enough, be me sowl, he's short of wan ear +any how, an' if you could meet wan o' the same Stewart's bullets, goin' +abroad at night like ourselves for its divarsion, it might tell how he +lost it. Bartle, I tell you a number of us isn't satisfied wid you. You +sends us out to meet danger, an' you won't come yourself." + +"Don't you know, Rouser, that I always do go whenever I can? But I'm +caged now; faix I don't sleep in a barn, and can't budge as I used to +do." + +"An' who's tyin' you to your place, thin?" + +"Rouser," replied Bartle, "I wish I had a thousand like you, not but +I have fine fellows. Boys, the thruth is this, you must all meet here +to-morrow night, for the short an' long of it is, that I'm goin' to run +away wid a wife." + +"Well," replied Redhead, "sure you can do that widout our assistance, if +she's willin' to come." + +"Willin'! why," replied Bartle, "it's by her own appointment we're +goin'." + +"An' if it is, then," said the Rouser, who, in truth, was the leader +of the suspicious and disaffected party in Flanagan's lodge, "what the +blazes use have you for us?" + +"Rouser Redhead," said Bartle, casting a suspicious and malignant glance +at him, "might I take the liberty of axin' what you mane by spakin' +of me in that disparagin' manner? Do you renumber your oath? or do you +forget that you're bound by it to meet at twelve hours' notice, or less, +whinever you're called upon? Dar Chriestha! man, if I hear another word +of the kind out of your lips, down you go on the black list. Boys," he +proceeded, with a wheedling look of good-humor to the rest, "we'll have +neither Spies nor Stags here, come or go what may." + +"Stags!" replied Rouser Redhead, whose face had already become scarlet +with indignation. "Stags, you say, Bartle Flanagan! Arrah, boys, I +wondher where is poor Connor O'Donovan by this time?" + +"I suppose bushin' it afore now," said our friend of the preceding part +of the night. "I bushed it myself for a year and a half, but be Japurs I +got sick of it. But any how, Bartle, you oughn't to spake of Stags, for +although Connor refused to join us, damn your blood, you had no right +to go to inform upon him. Sure, only for the intherest that was made for +him, you'd have his blood on your sowl." + +"An' if he had itself," observed one of Flanagan's friends, "'twould +signify very little. The Bodagh desarved what he got, and more if he had +got it. What right has he, one of our own purswadjion as he is to hould +out against us the way he does? Sure he's as rich as a Sassenach, an' +may hell resave the farden he'll subscribe towards our gettin' arms or +ammunition, or towards defindin' us when we're brought to thrial. So +hell's delight wid the dirty Bodagh, says myself for wan." + +"An' is that by way of defince of Captain Bartle Flanagan?" inquired +Rouser Redhead, indignantly. "An' so our worthy captain sint the man +across that punished our inimy, even accordian to your own provin', an' +that by staggin' aginst him. Of coorse, had the miser's son been one of +huz, Bartle's brains would be scattered to the four quarthers of heaven +long agone." + +"An' how did I know but he'd stag aginst me?" said Bartle, very calmly. + +"Damn well you knew he would not," observed Ned M'Cormick, now +encouraged by the bold and decided manner of Rouser Redhead. "Before +ever you went into Fardorougha's sarvice you sed to more than one that +you'd make him sup sorrow for his harshness to your father and family." + +"An' didn't he desarve it, Ned? Didn't he ruin us?" + +"He might desarve it, an' I suppose he did; but what right had you to +punish the innocent for the guilty? You knew very well that both his son +and his wife always set their faces against his doin's.'" + +"Boys," said Flanagan, "I don't understand this, and I tell you more I +won't bear it. This night let any of you that doesn't like to be undher +me say so. Rouser Redhead, you'll never meet in a Ribbon Lodge agin. +You're scratched out of wan book, but by way of comfort you're down in +another" + +"What other, Bartle?" + +"The black list. An' now I have nothin' more to say except that if +there's anything on your mind that wants absolution, look to it." + +We must now pause for a moment to observe upon that which we suppose the +sagacity of the reader has already discovered--that is, the connection +between what has occurred in Flanagan's lodge, and the last dialogue +which took place between Nogher and Connor O'Donovan. It is evident +that Nogher had spirits at work for the purpose both of watching and +contravening all Flanagan's plans, and, if possible, of drawing him into +some position which might justify the "few friends," as he termed +them, first in disgracing him, and afterwards of settling their account +ultimately with a man whom they wished to blacken, as dangerous to the +society of which they were members. The curse, however, of these secret +confederacies, and indeed of ribbonism in general, is, that the savage +principle of personal vengeance is transferred from the nocturnal +assault, or the midday assassination, which may be directed against +religious or political enemies, to the private bickerings and petty +jealousies that must necessarily occur in a combination of ignorant +and bigoted men, whose passions are guided by no principle but one of +practical cruelty. This explains, as we have just put it, and justly put +it, the incredible number of murders which are committed in this unhappy +country, under the name of way-layings and midnight attacks, where the +offence that caused them cannot be traced by society at large, although +it is an incontrovertible fact, that to all those who are connected with +ribbonism, in its varied phases, it often happens that the projection +of such murders is known for weeks before they are perpetrated. +The wretched assassin who murders a man that has never offended +him personally, and who suffers himself to become the instrument of +executing the hatred which originates from a principle of general enmity +again a class, will not be likely, once his hands are stained with +blood, to spare any one who may, by direct personal injury, incur his +resentment. Every such offence, where secret societies are concerned, +is made a matter of personal feeling and trial of strength between +factions, and of course a similar spirit is superinduced among persons +of the same creed and principles to that which actuates them against +those who differ from them in politics and religion. It is true that the +occurrence of murders of this character has been referred to as a proof +that secret societies are not founded or conducted upon a spirit of +religious rancor; but such an assertion is, in some cases, the result +of gross ignorance, and, in many more, of far grosser dishonesty. Their +murdering each other is not at all a proof of any such thing, but it, +is a proof, as we have said, that their habit of taking away human life, +and shedding human blood upon slight grounds or political feelings, +follows them from their conventional principles to their private +resentments, and is, therefore, such a consequence as might naturally be +expected to result from a combination of men who, in one sense, consider +murder no crime. Thus does this secret tyranny fall back upon society, +as well as upon those who are concerned in it, as a double curse; +and, indeed, we believe that even the greater number of these unhappy +wretches whom it keeps within its toils, would be glad if the principle +were rooted out of the country forever. + +"An' so you're goin' to put my father down on the black list," said the +beetle-browed son of the Rouser. "Very well, Bartle, do so; but do +you see that?" he added, pointing to the sign of the coffin and the +cross-bones, which he had previously drawn upon the slate; "dhav a +sphirit Neev, if you do, you'll waken some mornin' in a warmer counthry +than Ireland." + +"Very well," said Bartle, quietly, but evidently shrinking from a threat +nearly as fearful, and far more daring than his own. "You know I have +nothin' to do except my duty. Yez are goin' aginst the cause, an' I must +report yez; afther whatever happens, won't come from me, nor from any +one here. It is from thim that's in higher quarters you'll get your +doom, an' not from me, or, as I said afore, from any one here. Mark +that; but indeed you know it as well as I do, an' I believe, Rouser, a +good deal bether." + +Flanagan's argument, to men who understood its dreadful import, was one +before which almost every description of personal courage must quail. +Persons were then present, Rouser Redhead among the rest, who had been +sent upon some of those midnight missions, which contumacy against the +system, when operating in its cruelty, had dictated. Persons of humane +disposition, declining to act on these sanguinary occasions, are +generally the first to be sacrificed, for individual life is nothing +when obstructing the propagation of general principle. + +This truth, coming from Flanagan's lips, they themselves, some of whom +had executed its spirit, knew but too well. The difference, however, +between their apprehension, so far as they were individually concerned, +was not much; Flanagan had the person to fear, and his opponents the +principle. + +Redhead, however, who knew that whatever he had executed upon +delinquents like himself, might also upon himself be visited in his +turn, saw that his safest plan for the present was to submit; for indeed +the meshes of the White-boys' system leave no man's life safe, if he +express hostile opinions to it. + +"Bartle," said he, "you know I'm no coward; an' I grant that you've a +long head at plannin' anything you set about. I don't see, in the mane +time, why, afther all, we should quarrel. You know me, Bartle; an' if +anything happens me, it won't be for nothin. I say no more; but I say +still that you throw the danger upon uz, and don't--" + +"Rouser Redhead," said Bartle, "give me jour hand. I say now, what I +didn't wish to say to-night afore, by Japurs, you're worth five men; an' +I'll tell you all, boys, you must meet the Rouser here to-morrow night, +an' we'll have a dhrink at my cost; an', boys--Rouser, hear me--you all +know your oaths; we'll do something to-morrow night--an' I say again, +Rouser, I'll be wid yez an' among yez; an' to prove my opinion of the +Rouser, I'll allow him to head us." + +"An', by the cross o' Moses, I'll do it in style," rejoined the +hot-headed but unthinking fellow, who did not see that the adroit +captain was placing him in the post of danger. "I don't care a damn what +it is--we'll meet here to-morrow night, boys, an' I'll show you that I +can lead as well as folly. + +"Whatever happens," said Bartle, "we oughtn't to have any words or +bickerin's among ourselves at any rate. I undherstand that two among yez +sthruck one another. Sure yez know that there's not a blow ye giv to a +brother but's a perjury--an' there's no use in that, barin an' to help +forid the thruth. I'll say no more about it now; but I hope there'll +never be another blow given among yez. Now, get a hat, some o' yez, till +we draw cuts for six that I want to beat Tom Lynchagan, of Lisdhu; he's +worken for St. Ledger, afther gettin' two notices. He's a quiet, civil +man, no doubt; but that's not the thing. Obadience, or where's the +use of our meetin's at all? Give him a good sound batin', but no +further--break no bones." + +He then marked slips of paper, equal in number to those who were +present, with the numbers 1, 2, 3, &c, to correspond, after which +he determined that the three first numbers and the three last should +go--all of which was agreed to without remonstrance, or any apparent +show of reluctance whatever. "Now, boys," he continued, "don't forget to +attend to-morrow night; an' I say to every man of you, as Darby Spaight +said to the divil, when he promised to join the rebellion, _'phe dha +phecka laght,'_ (bring your pike with you,) bring the weapon." + +"An who's the purty girl that's goin' to wet you, Captain Bartle?" +inquired Dandy Duffy. + +"The purtiest girl in this parish, anyhow," replied Flanagan, unawares. +The words, however, were scarcely out of his lips, when he felt that he +had been indiscreet. He immediately added--"that is, if she is of this +parish; but I didn't say she is. Maybe We'll have to thravel a bit to +find her out, but come what come may, don't neglect to be all here about +half-past nine o'clock, wid your arms an' ammunition." + +Duffy, who had sat beside Ned M'Cormiek during the night, gave him a +significant look, which the other, who had, in truth, joined himself to +Flanagan's lodge only to watch his movements, as significantly returned. + +When the men deputed to beat Lynchaghan had blackened their faces, the +lodge dispersed for the night, Dandy Duffy and Ned M'Cormick taking +their way home together, in order to consider of matters, with which the +reader, in due time, shall be made acquainted. + + + + +PART VII. + +Our readers may recollect, that, at the close of that part of our tale +which appeared in the preceding number, Dandy Duffy and Ned M'Cormick +exchanged significant glances at each other, upon Flanagan's having +admitted unawares that the female he designed to take away on the +following night was "the purtiest girl in the parish." The truth was, he +imagined at the moment that his designs were fully matured, and in the +secret vanity, or rather, we should say, in the triumphant villainy of +his heart, he allowed an expression' to incautiously pass his lips which +was nearly tantamount to an admission of Una's name. The truth of this +he instantly felt. But even had he not, by his own natural sagacity, +perceived it, the look of mutual intelligence which his quick and +suspicious eye observed to pass between Duffy and Ned M'Cormick would at +once have convinced him. Una was not merely entitled to the compliment +so covertly bestowed upon her extraordinary personal attractions, but +in addition it might have been truly affirmed that neither that nor any +adjoining parish could produce a female, in any rank, who could stand on +a level with her in the character of a rival beauty. This was admitted +by all who had ever seen the _colleen dhan dhun_, or "the purty brown +girl," as she was called, and it followed as a matter of course, that +Flanagan's words could imply no other than the Bodagh's daughter. + +It is unnecessary to say, that Flanagan,--knowing this as he did, could +almost have bit a portion of his own tongue off as a punishment for its +indiscretion. It was then too late, however, to efface the impression +which the words were calculated to make, and he felt besides that he +would only strengthen the suspicion by an over-anxiety to remove it. He, +therefore, repeated his orders respecting the appointed meeting on the +following night, although he had already resolved in his own mind to +change the whole plan of his operations. + +Such was the precaution with which this cowardly but accomplished +miscreant proceeded towards the accomplishment of his purposes, and such +was his apprehension lest the premature suspicion of a single individual +might by contingent treachery defeat his design, or affect his personal +safety. He had made up his mind to communicate the secret of his +enterprise to none until the moment of its execution; and this being +accomplished, his ultimate plans were laid, as he thought, with +sufficient skill to baffle pursuit and defeat either the malice of his +enemies or the vengeance of the law. + +No sooner had they left the schoolhouse than the Dandy and M'Cormick +immediately separated from the rest, in order to talk over the +proceedings of the night, with a view to their suspicions of the +"Captain." They had not gone far, however, when they were overtaken by +two others, who came up to them at a quick, or, if I may be allowed the +expression, an earnest pace. The two latter were Rousin Redhead and his +son, Corney. + +"So, boys," said the Rouser, "what do you think of our business +to-night? Didn't I get well out of his clutches?" + +"Be me troth, Rouser, darlin'," replied the Dandy, "you niver wor +completely in them till this minnit." + +"_Dhar ma lham charth_," said Corney, "I say he's a black-hearted +villin." + +"But how am I in his clutches, Dandy?" inquired the Rouser. + +"Why," rejoined Duffy, "didn't you see that for all you said about +his throwin' the post of danger on other people, he's givin' it to you +to-morrow night?" + +Rousin Redhead stood still for nearly half a minute without uttering a +syllable; at length he seized Dandy by the arm, which he pressed with +the gripe of Hercules, for he was a man of huge size and strength. + +"_Chorp ad dioual_, you giant, is it my arm you're goin' to break?" + +"Be the tarnal primmer, Dandy Duffy, but I see it now!" said the Rouser, +struck by Bartle's address, and indignant at the idea of having been +overreached by him. "Eh, Corney," he continued, addressing the son, +"hasn't he the Rouser set? I see, boys, I see. I'm a marked man wid him, +an' it's likely, for all he said, will be on the black list afore he +sleeps. Well, Corney avic, you an' others know how to act if anything +happens me." + +"I don't think," said M'Cormick, who was a lad of considerable +penetration, "that you need be afeard of either him or the black list. +Be me sowl, I know the same Bartle well, an' a bigger coward never put a +coat on his back. He got as pale as a sheet, to-night, when Corney there +threatened him; not but he's desateful enough I grant, but he'd be a +greater tyrant only that he's so hen-hearted." + +"But what job," said the rouser, "has he for us to-morrow night, do you +think? It must be something past the common. Who the _dioual_ can he +have in his eye to run away wid?" + +"Who's the the purtiest girl in the parish, Rouser?" asked Ned. "I +thought every one knew that." + +"Why, you don't mane for to say," replied Redhead, "that he'd have the +spunk in him to run away with Bodagh Buie's daughter? Be the contents o' +the book, if I thought he'd thry it, I stick to him like a Throjan; +the dirty Bodagh, that, as Larry Lawdher said tonight, never backed or +supported us, or gev a single rap to help us, if a penny 'ud save us +from the gallis. To hell's delights wid him an' all belongin' to him, +I say too; an' I'll tell you What it is, boys, if Flanagan has the +manliness to take away his daughter, I'll be the first to sledge the +door to pieces." + +"_Dhar a spiridh_, an' so will I," said the young beetle-browed tiger +beside him; "thim that can an' won't help on the cause, desarves no +mercy from it." + +Thus spoke from the lips of ignorance and brutality that _esprit de +corps_ of blood, which never scruples to sacrifice all minor resentments +to any opportunity of extending the cause, as it is termed, of that +ideal monster, in the promotion of which the worst principles of our +nature, still most active, are sure to experience the greatest glut of +low and gross gratification. Oh, if reason, virtue, and true religion, +were only as earnest and vigorous in extending their own cause, as +ignorance, persecution, and bigotry, how soon would society present a +different aspect! But, unfortunately, they cannot stoop to call in the +aid of tyranny, and cruelty, and bloodshed, nor of the thousand other +atrocious allies of falsehood and dishonesty, of which ignorance, craft, +and cruelty, never fail to avail themselves, and without which they +could not proceed successfully. + +M'Cormick, having heard Rousin Redhead and his son utter such +sentiments, did not feel at all justified in admitting them to any +confidence with himself or Duffy. He accordingly replied with more of +adroitness than of candor to the savage sentiments they expressed. + +"Faith, you're right, Rouser; he'd never have spunk, sure enough, to +carry off the Bodagh's daughter. But, in the mane time, who was spakin' +about her? Begor, if I thought he had the heart I'd--but he hasn't." + +"I know he hasn't," said the Rouser. + +"He's nothing but a white-livered dog," said Duffy. + +"I thought, to tell you the truth," said M'Cormick, "that you might give +a guess as to the girl, but for the Bodagh's daughter, he has not the +mettle for that." + +"If he had," replied the Rouser, "he might count upon Corney an' myself +as right-hand men. We all have a crow to pluck wid the dirty Bodagh, +an', be me zounds, it'll puzzle him to find a bag to hould the +feathers." + +"One 'ud think he got enough," observed M'Cormick, "in the loss of his +haggard." + +"But that didn't come from uz," said the Rouser; "we have our share to +give him yet, an' never fear hell get it. We'll taich him to abuse us, +an' set us at defiance, as he's constantly doin'." + +"Well, Rouser," said M'Cormick, who now felt anxious to get rid of him, +"we'll be wishin' you a good night; we're goin' to have a while of a +_kailyeah_ (An evening conversational visit) up at my uncle's. Corney, +my boy, good night." + +"Good night kindly, boys," replied the other, "an' __banaght lath any +how." + +"Rouser, you divil," said the Dandy, calling after them, "will you an' +blessed Corney there, offer up a Patthernavy for my conversion, for I'm +sure that both your prayers will go far?" + +Rousin Redhead and Corney responded to this with a loud laugh, and a +banter. + +"Ay, ay, Dandy; but, be me sowl, if they only go as far as your own +goodness sint you before now, it'll be seven years before they come back +again; eh, do you smell anything?--ha, ha, ha!" + +"The big boshthoon hot me fairly, begad," observed the Dandy. +Aside--"The divil's own tongue he has." + +"Bad cess to you for a walkin' bonfire, an' go home," replied the Dandy; +"I'm not a match for you wid the tongue, at all at all" + +"No, nor wid anything else, barrin' your heels," replied the Rouser; "or +your hands, if there was a horse in the way. Arrah, Dandy?" + +"Well, you graceful youth, well?" + +"You ought to be a good workman by this time; you first lamed your +thrade, an' thin you put in your apprenticeship--ha, ha, ha!" + +"Faith, an' Rouser I can promise you a merry end, my beatity; you'll be +the only man that'll dance at your own funeral; an' I'll tell you what, +Rouser, it'll be like an egg-hornpipe, wid your eyes covered. That's +what I call an active death, avouchal!" + +"Faith, an' if you wor a priest, Dandy, you'd never die with your face +to the congregation. You'll be a rope-dancer yourself yet; only this, +Dandy, that you'll be undher the rope instead of over it, so good +night." + +"Rouser," exclaimed the other. "Rousin Redhead!" + +"Go home," replied the Rouser. "Good night, I say; you've thravelled a +great deal too far for an ignorant man like me to stand any chance +wid you. Your tongue's lighter than your hands (In Ireland, to be +light--handed signifies to be a thief) even, and that's payin' it a high +compliment." + +"Divil sweep you, Brien," said Dandy, "you'd beat the divil an' Docthor +Fosther, Good night again!" + +"Oh, ma bannaght laht, I say." + +And they accordingly parted. + +"Now," said Ned, "what's to be done Dandy? As sure as gun's iron, +this limb of hell will take away the Bodagh's daughter, if we don't do +something to prevent it." + +"I'm not puttin' it past him," returned his companion, "but how to +prevent it is the thing. He has the boys all on his side, barrin' +yourself and me, an' a few more." + +"An' you see, Ned, the Bodagh is so much hated, that even some of thim +that don't like Flanagan, won't scruple to join him in this." + +"An' if we were known to let the cat out o' the bag to the Bodagh, we +might as well prepare our coffins at wanst." + +"Faith, sure enough--that's but gospel, Ned," replied the Dandy; still +it 'ud be the _milliah_ murdher to let the double-faced villin carry off +such a girl." + +"I'll tell you what you'll do, thin, Dandy," rejoined Ned, "what if +you'd walk down wid me as far as the Bodagh's." + +"For why? Sure they're in bed now, man alive." + +"I know that," said M'Cormick; "but how--an--ever, if you come down wid +me that far, I'll conthrive to get in somehow, widout wakenin' them." + +"The dickens you will! How, the sarra, man?" + +"No matther, I will; an' you see," he added, pulling out a flask of +spirits, "I'm not goin' impty-handed." + +"Phew!" exclaimed Duffy, "is it there you are?--oh, that indeed! Faith +I got a whisper of it some time ago, but it wint out o' my head. Biddy +Nulty, faix--a nate clane girl she is, too." + +"But that's not the best of it, Dandy. Sure, blood alive, I can tell you +a sacret--may dipind? Honor bright! The Bodagh's daughter, man, is to +give her a portion, in regard to her bein' so thrue to Connor O'Donovan. +Bad luck to the oath she'd swear aginst him if they'd made a queen of +her, but outdone the counsellors and lawyers, an' all the whole bobbery +o' them, whin they wanted her to turn king's evidence. Now, it's not but +I'd do anything to serve the purty Bodagh's daughter widout it; but you +see, Dandy, if white-liver takes her off, I may stand a bad chance for +the portion." + +"Say no more; I'll go wid you; but how will you get in, Ned?" + +"Never you mind that; here, take a pull out of this flask before you go +any further. Blood an' flummery! what a night; divil a my finger I can +see before me. Here--where's your hand?--that's it; warm your heart, my +boy." + +"You intind thin, Ned, to give Biddy the hard word about Flanagan?" + +"Why, to bid her put them on their guard; sure there can be no harm in +that." + +"They say, Ned, it's not safe to trust a woman; what if you'd ax to see +the Bodagh's son, the young soggarth?" + +"I'd trust my life to Biddy--she that was so honest to the Donovans +wouldn't be desateful to her sweetheart that--he--hem--she's far gone in +consate wid--your sowl. Her brother Alick's to meet me at the Bodagh's +on his way from their lodge, for they hould a meetin to-night too." + +"Never say it again. I'll stick to you; so push an, for it's late. +You'll be apt to make up the match before you part, I suppose." + +"That won't be hard to do any time, Dandy." + +Both then proceeded down the same field, which we have already said +was called the Black Park, in consequence of its dark and mossy soil. +Having, with some difficulty, found the stile at the lower end of it, +they passed into a short car track, which they were barely able to +follow. + +The night, considering that it was the month of November, was close and +foggy--such as frequently follows a calm day of incessant rain. The +bottoms were plashing, the drams all full, and the small rivulets and +streams about the country were above their hanks, whilst the larger +rivers swept along with the hoarse continuous murmurs of an unusual +flood. The sky was one sheet of blackness--for not a cloud could be +seen, or anything, except the passing gleam of a cottage taper, lessened +by the haziness of the night into a mere point of faint light, and +thrown by the same cause into a distance which appeared to the eye much +more remote than that of reality. + +After having threaded their way for nearly a mile, the water spouting +almost at every step up to their knees, they at length came to an old +bridle--way, deeply shaded with hedges on each side. They had not spoken +much since the close of their last dialogue; for, the truth is, each had +enough to do, independently of dialogue, to keep himself out of drains +and quagmires. An occasional "hanamondioul, I'm into the hinches;" "holy +St. Peter, I'm stuck;" "tun--dher an' turf, where are you at all?" or, +"by this an' by that, I dunno where I am," were the only words that +passed between them, until they reached the little road we are speaking, +of, which, in fact, was one unbroken rut, and on such a night almost +impassable. + +"Now," said M'Cormick, "we musn't keep this devil's gut, for conshumin' +to the shoe or stockin' ever we'd bring out of it; however, do you folly +me, Dandy, and there's no danger." + +"I can do nothing else," replied the other, "for I know no more where I +am than the man of the moon, who, if all's thrue that's sed of him, is +the biggest blockhead alive." + +M'Cormick, who knew the path well, turned off the road into a pathway +that ran inside the hedge and along the fields, but parallel with the +muddy boreen in question. They now found themselves upon comparatively +clear ground, and, with the exception of an occasional slip or two, in +consequence of the heavy rain, they had little difficulty in advancing. +At this stage of their journey not a light was to be seen nor a sound +of life heard, and it was evident that the whole population of the +neighborhood had sunk to rest. + +"Where will this bring us to, Ned?" asked the Dandy--"I hope we'll soon +be at the Bodagh's." + +M'Cormick stood and suddenly pressed his arm, "Whisht!" said he, in an +under-tone, "I think I hard voices." + +"No," replied the other in the same low tone. + +"I'm sure I did," said Ned, "take my word for it, there's people before +us on the boreen--whisht!" + +They both listened, and very distinctly heard a confused but suppressed +murmur of voices, apparently about a hundred yards before them on the +little bridle--way. Without uttering a word they both proceeded as +quietly and quickly as possible, and in a few minutes nothing separated +them but the hedge. The party on the road were wallowing through the +mire with great difficulty, many of them, at the same time, bestowing +very energetic execrations upon it and upon those who suffered it to +remain in such a condition. Even oaths, however, were uttered in so +low and cautious a tone, that neither M'Cormick nor the Dandy could +distinguish their voices so clearly as to recognize those who spoke, +supposing that they had known them. Once or twice they heard the +clashing of arms or of iron instruments of some sort, and it seemed to +them that the noise was occasioned by the accidental jostling together +of those who carried them. At length they heard one voice exclaim rather +testily. "D--n your blood, Bartle Flanagan, will you have patience till +I get my shoe out o' the mud--you don't expect me to lose it, do you? +We're not goin' to get a purty wife, whatever you may be." + +The reply to this was short, but pithy--"May all the divils in hell's +fire pull the tongue out o' you, for nothin' but hell itself, you +villin, timpted me to bring you with me." + +This was not intended to be heard, nor was it by the person against +whom it was uttered, he being some distance behind--but as Ned and his +companion were at that moment exactly on the other side of the hedge, +they could hear the words of this precious soliloquy--for such it +was--delivered as they were with a suppressed energy of malignity, +worthy of the heart which suggested them. + +M'Cormick immediately pulled Duffy's coat, without speaking a word, as +a hint to follow him with as little noise as possible, which he did, +and ere many minutes they were so far in advance of the others, as to be +enabled to converse without being heard. "_Thar Bheah_ Duffy," said his +companion, "there's not a minute to be lost." + +"There is not," replied the other--"but what will you do with me? I'll +lend a hand in any way I can--but remember that if we're seen, or if +it's known that we go against them in this--" + +"I know," said the other, "we're gone men; still we must manage +it somehow, so as to save the girl; God! if it was only on Connor +O'Donovan's account, that's far away this night, I'd do it. Dandy you +wor only a boy when Blannarhasset prosecuted you, and people pitied you +at the time, and now they don't think much the worse of you for it; an' +you know it was proved since, that what you sed then was thrue, that +other rogues made you do it, an' thin lift you in the lurch. But +d--n it, where's the use of all this? give me your hand, it's life or +death--can I thrust you?" + +"You may," said the other, "you may, Ned; do whatever you wish with me." + +"Then," continued Ned, "I'll go into the house, and do you keep near to +them without bein' seen; watch their motions; but above all things, if +they take her off--folly on till you see where they'll bring her; after +that they can get back enough--the sogers, if they're a wantin'." + +"Depind an me, Ned; to the core depind an me." + +They had now reached the Bodagh's house, upon which, as upon every other +object around them, the deep shadows of night rested heavily. The Dandy +took up his position behind one of the porches of the gate that divided +the little grass--plot before the hall--door and the farmyard, as being +the most central spot, and from which he could with more ease hear, or +as far as might be observe, the plan and nature of their proceedings. + +It was at least fifteen minutes before they reached the little avenue +that led up to the Bodagh's residence; for we ought to have told our +readers, that M'Cormick and Duffy, having taken a short path, left +the others--who, being ignorant of it, were forced to keep to the +road--considerable behind them. Ned was consequently from ten to +fifteen minutes in the house previous to their arrival. At length they +approached silently, and with that creeping pace which betokens either +fear or caution, as the case may be, and stood outside the gate which +led to the grass-plot before the hall-door, not more than three or +four yards from the porch of the farm-yard gate where the Dandy stood +concealed. And here he had an opportunity of witnessing the extreme +skill with which Flanagan conducted this nefarious exploit. After +listening for about a minute, he found that their worthy leader was not +present, but he almost immediately discovered that he was engaged in +placing guards upon all the back windows of the dwelling-house and +kitchen. During his absence the following short consultation took +place among those whom he left behind him, for the purpose of taking a +personal part in the enterprise: + +"It was too thrue what Rousin Redhead said to-night," observed one of +them, "he always takes care to throw the post of danger on some one +else. Nowit's not that I'm afeared, but as he's to have the girl +himself, it's but fair that his own neck should run the first danger, +an' not mine." + +They all assented to this. + +"Well, then, boys," he proceeded, "if yez support me, well make him head +this business himself. It's his own consarn, not ours; an' besides, as +he houlds the Articles, it's his duty to lead us in everything. So I for +wan, won't take away his girl, an' himself keepin' back. If there's any +one here that'll take my place for his, let him now say so." + +They were all silent as to that point; but most of them said, they +wished, at all events, to give "the dirty Bodagh," for so they usually +called him, something to remember them by, in consequence of his having, +on all occasions, stood out against the system. + +"Still it's fair," said several of them, "that in takin' away the +colleen, Bartle should go foremost, as she's for himself an' 'not for +huz." + +"Well, then, you'll all agree to this?" + +"We do, but whist--here he is." + +Deeply mortified was their leader on finding that they had come +unanimously to this determination. It was too late now, however, to +reason with them, and the crime, to the perpetration of which he brought +them, too dangerous in its consequences, to render a quarrel with them +safe or prudent. He felt himself, therefore, in a position which, of all +others, he did not wish. Still his address was too perfect to allow any +symptoms of chagrin or disappointment to be perceptible in his voice +or manner, although, the truth is, he cursed them in his heart at the +moment, and vowed in some shape or other to visit their insubordination +with vengeance. + +Such, indeed, is the nature of these secret confederacies that are +opposed to the laws of the land, and the spirit of religion. It matters +little how open and apparently honest the conduct of such men may be +among each other; there is, notwithstanding this, a distrust, a fear, +a suspicion, lurking at every heart, that renders personal security +unsafe, and life miserable. But how, indeed, can they repose confidence +in each other, when they know that in consequence of their connection +with such systems, many of the civil duties of life cannot be performed +without perjury on the one hand, or risk of life on the other, and that +the whole principle of the combination is founded upon hatred, revenge, +and a violation of all moral obligation? + +"Well, then," said their leader, "as your minds is made up, boys, follow +me as quickly as you can, an' don't spake a word in your own voices." + +They approached the hall-door, with the exception of six, who stood +guarding the front windows of the dwelling-house and kitchen; and, to +the Dandy's astonishment, the whole party, amounting to about eighteen, +entered the house without either noise or obstruction of any kind. + +"By Japurs," thought he to himself, "there's thraichery there, any how." + +This now to the Dandy was a moment of intense interest. Though by no +means a coward, or a young fellow of delicate nerves, yet his heart beat +furiously against his ribs, and his whole frame shook with excitement. +He would, in truth, much rather have been engaged in the outrage, than +forced as he was, merely to look on without an opportunity of taking +a part in it, one way or the other. Such, at least, were his own +impressions, when the report of a gun was heard inside the house. + +_Dhar an Iffrin_, thought he again, I'll bolt in an' see what's +goin' an--oh _ma shaght millia mattach orth_, Flanagan, if you spill +blood--Jasus above! Well, any how, come or go what may, we can hang him +for this--glory be to God! + +These reflections were very near breaking-forth into words. + +"I don't like that," said one of the guards to another; "he may take +the girl away, but it's not the thing to murdher any one belongin' to a +dacent family, an' of our own religion." + +"If it's only the Bodagh got it," replied his comrade, who was no other +than Micky Malvathra, "blaizes to the hair I care. When my brother +Barney, that suffered for _Caam Beal_ (crooked mouth) Grime's business, +was before his thrial, hell resave the taisther the same Bodagh would +give to defind him." + +"Damn it," rejoined the other, "but to murdher a man in his bed! Why, +now, if it was only comin' home from a fair or market, but at midnight, +an' in his bed, begorra it is not the thing, Mickey." + +There was now a pause in the conversation for some minutes; at length, +screams were heard, and the noise of men's feet, as if engaged in a +scuffle upon the stairs, for the hall-door lay open. A light, too, was +seen, but it appeared to have been blown out; the same noise of feet +tramping, as if still in a tumult, approached the door, and almost +immediately afterwards Flanagan's party approached, bearing in their +arms a female, who panted and struggled as if she had been too weak +to shriek or call for assistance. The hall-door was then pulled to and +locked by those who were outside. + +The Dandy could see, by the passing gleam of light which fell upon +those who watched beside him, that their faces were blackened, and their +clothes covered by a shirt, as was usual with the Whiteboys of old, +and for the same object--that of preventing--themselves from being +recognized by their apparel. + +"So far so good," said Flanagan, who cared not now whether his voice was +known or not; "the prize is mine, boys, an' how to bring ma colleen dhas +dhun to a snug place, an' a friendly priest that I have to put the knot +on us for life." + +"By ---," thought Duffy, "I'll put a different kind of a knot on you for +that, if I should swing myself for it." + +They hurried onwards with as much speed as possible, bearing the +fainting female in a seat formed by clasping their hands together. Duffy +still stood in his place of concealment, waiting to let them get so far +in advance as that he might dog them without danger of being heard. +Just then a man cautiously approached, and in a whisper asked, "Is that +Dandy?" + +"It is--Saver above, Ned, how is this? all's lost!" + +"No, no--I hope not--but go an' watch them; we'll folly as soon as we +get help. My curse on Alick Nulty, he disappointed me an' didn't come; +if he had, some of the Bodagh's sarvant boys would be up wid us in the +kitchen, an' we could bate them back aisy; for Flanagan, as I tould you, +is a dam-coward." + +"Well, thin, I'll trace them," replied the other; "but you know that +in sich darkness as this you haven't a minute to lose, otherwise you'll +miss them." + +"Go an; but afore you go listen, be the light of day, not that we have +much of it now any way--by the vestment, Biddy Nulty's worth her weight +in Bank of Ireland notes; now pelt and afther them; I'll tell you +again." + +Flanagan's party were necessarily forced to retrace their steps along +the sludgy boreen we have mentioned, and we need scarcely say, that, +in consequence of the charge with which they were encumbered, their +progress was proportionally slow; to cross the fields on such a night +was out of the question. + +The first thing Flanagan did, when he found his prize safe, was to tie +a handkerchief about her mouth that she might not scream, and to secure +her hands together by the wrists. Indeed, the first of these precautions +seemed to be scarcely necessary, for what with the terror occasioned by +such unexpected and frightful violence, and the extreme delicacy of her +health, it was evident that she could not utter even a shriek. Yet, did +she, on the other hand, lapse into fits of such spasmodic violence as, +wrought up as she was by the horror of her situation, called forth all +her physical energies, and literally give her the strength of three +women. + +"Well, well," observed one of the fellows, who had assisted in holding +her down during these wild fits, "you may talk of jinteel people, but +be the piper o' Moses, that same sick daughter of the Bodagh's is the +hardiest sprout I've laid my hands on this month o' Sundays." + +"May be you'd make as hard a battle yourself," replied he to whom he +spoke, "if you wor forced to a thing you hate as much as she hates +Bartle." + +"May be so," rejoined the other, with an incredulous shrug, that seemed +to say he was by no means satisfied by the reasoning of his companion. + +Bartle now addressed his charge with a hope of reconciling her, if +possible, to the fate of becoming united to him. + +"Don't be at all alarmed, Miss Oona, for indeed you may take my word for +it, that I'll make as good and as lovin' a husband as ever had a purty +wife. It's two or three years since I fell in consate wid you, an' I +needn't tell you, darlin', how happy I'm now, that you're mine. I have +two horses waitin' for us at the end of this vile road, an', plase +Providence, we'll ride onwards a bit, to a friend's house o' mine, where +I've a priest ready to tie the knot; an' to-morrow, if you're willin', +we'll start for America; but if you don't like that, we'll live together +till you'll be willin' enough, I hope, to go any where I wish. So take +heart, darlin', take heart. As for the money I made free wid out o' your +desk, it'll help to keep us comfortable; it was your own, you know, an' +who has a betther right to be at the spendin' of it?" + +This, which was meant for consolation, utterly failed, or rather +aggravated the sufferings of the affrighted girl they bore, who once +more struggled with a power that resembled the intense muscular strength +of epilepsy, more than anything else. It literally required four of them +to hold her down, so dreadfully spasmodic were her efforts to be free. + +The delay caused by those occasional workings of terror, at a moment +when Flanagan expected every sound to be the noise of pursuit, wrought +up his own bad passions to a furious height. His own companions could +actually hear him grinding his teeth with vexation and venom, whenever +anything on her part occurred to retard their flight. All this, however, +he kept to himself, owing to the singular command he possessed over his +passions. Nay, he undertook, once more, the task of reconciling her to +the agreeable prospect, as he termed it, that life presented her. + +"We'll be as happy as the day's long," said he, "espichilly when +heaven sends us a family; an' upon my troth a purty mother you'll make? +suppose, darlin' love, you wondher how I got in to-night, but I tell +you I've my wits about me; you don't know that it was I encouraged Biddy +Nulty to go to live wid you, but I know what I was about then; Biddy it +was that left the door open for me, an' that tould me the room you lay +in, an' the place you keep your hard goold an' notes; I mintion these +things to show you how I have you hemmed in, and that your wisest way is +to submit without makin' a rout about it. You know that if you wor taken +from me this minit, there 'ud be a stain upon your name that 'ud never +lave it, an' it wouldn't be my business, you know, to clear up your +character, but the conthrary. As for Biddy, the poor fool, I did all in +my power to prevint her bein' fond o' me, but ever since we two lived +with the ould miser, somehow she couldn't." + +For some time before he had proceeded thus far, there was felt, by +those who carried their fair charge, a slight working of her whole body, +especially of the arms, and in a moment Flanagan, who walked a little in +advance of her, with his head bent down, that he might not be put to the +necessity of speaking loud, suddenly received, right upon his nose, such +an incredible facer as made the blood spin a yard out of it. + +"May all the curses of heaven an' hell blast you, for a cowardly, +thraicherous, parjured stag! Why, you black-hearted informer, see +now what you've made by your cunnin'. Well, we hope you'll keep your +word--won't I make a purty mother, an' won't we be happy as the day's +long, espichilly when Heaven sends us a family? Why, you rap of hell, +aren't you a laughing-stock this minute? An' to go to take my name +too--an' to leave the guilt of some other body's thraichery on me, that +you knew in your burnin' sowl to be innocent--me, a poor girl that has +only my name an' good character to carry me through the world. Oh, you +mane-sphirted, revengeful dog, for you're not a man, or you'd not go to +take sich revenge upon a woman, an' all for sayin' an' puttin' it out +on you, what I ever an' always will do, that struv to hang Connor +O'Donovan, knowin' that it was yourself did the crime the poor boy is +now sufferin' for. Ha! may the sweetest an' bitterest of bad luck both +meet upon you, you villin! Amin I pray this night!" + +The scene that followed this discovery, and the unexpected act which +produced it, could not, we think, be properly described by either pen or +pencil. Flanagan stood with his hands alternately kept to his nose, +from which he flung away the blood, as it sprung out in a most copious +stream. Two-thirds, indeed we might say three-fourths of his party, were +convulsed with suppressed laughter, nor could they prevent an occasional +cackle from being heard, when forcibly drawing in their breath, in an +effort not to offend their leader. The discovery of the mistake was, in +itself, extremely ludicrous, but when the home truths uttered by Biddy, +and the indescribable bitterness'caused by the disappointment, joined to +the home blow, were all put together, it might be said that the darkness +of hell itself was not so black as the rage, hatred, and thirst of +vengeance, which at this moment consumed Bartle Flanagan's heart. He who +had laid his plans so artfully that he thought failure in securing +his prize impossible, now not only to feel that he was baffled by the +superior cunning of a girl, and made the laughing-stock of his own +party, who valued him principally upon his ability in such matters; but, +in addition to this, to have his heart and feelings torn, as it were, +out of his body, and flung down before him and his confreres in all +their monstrous deformity, and to be jeered at, moreover, and despised, +and literally cuffed by the female who outreached him--this was too +much; all the worst passions within him were fired, and he swore in his +own heart a deep and blasphemous oath, that Biddy Nulty never should +part from him unless as a degraded girl. + +The incident that we have just related happened so quickly that +Flanagan' had not time to reply a single word, and Biddy followed up her +imprecation by a powerful effort to release herself. + +"Let me home this minnit, you villin," she continued; "now that you find +yourself on the wrong scent--boys, don't hould me, nor back that ruffin +in his villany." + +"Hould her like hell," said Bartle, "an' tie her up wanst more; we'll +gag you, too, my lady--ay, will we. Take away your name--I'll take care +you'll carry shame upon your face from this night to the hour of your +death. Characther indeed!--ho, by the crass I'll lave you that little of +that will go far wid you." + +"May be not," replied Biddy; "the same God that disappointed you in +hangin' Connor O'Donovan--" + +"Damn you," said he, "take that;" and as he spoke he struck the poor girl +a heavy blow in the cheek, which cut her deeply, and for a short time +rendered her speechless. + +"Bartle," said more than one of them, "that's unmanly, an' it's +conthrary to the regulations.' + +"To perdition wid the regulations! Hasn't the vagabone drawn a pint of +blood from my nose already?--look at that!" he exclaimed, throwing away +a handful of the warm gore "hell seize her! look at that--Ho be the--" +He made another onset at the yet unconscious girl as he spoke, and would +have still inflicted further punishment upon her, were it not that he +was prevented. + +"Stop," said several of them, "if you wor over us fifty times you won't +lay another finger on her; that's wanst for all, so be quiet." + +"Are yez threatenin' me?" he asked, furiously, but in an instant +he changed his tone--"Boys dear," continued the wily but unmanly +villain--"boys dear, can you blame me? disappointed as I am by this--by +this--_ha anhien na sthreepa_--I'll----" but again he checked himself, +and at length burst out into a bitter fit of weeping. "Look at' this," +he proceeded, throwing away another handful of blood, "I've lost a quart +of it by her." + +"Be the hand af my body," said one of them in a whisper, "he's like +every coward, it's at his own blood he's cryin'; be the vartue of my +oath, that man's not the thing to depind on." + +"Is she tied an' gagged?" he then inquired. + +"She is," replied those who tied her. "It was very asy done, Bartle, +afther the blow you hot her." + +"It wasn't altogether out of ill--will I hot her aither," he replied, +"although, boys dear, you know how she vexed me, but you see, the thruth +is, she'd a' given us a great dale o' throuble in gettin' her quiet." + +"An' you tuck the right way to do that," they replied ironically; and +they added, "Bartle Flanagan, you may thank the oaths we tuck, or be the +crass, a single man of us wouldn't assist you in this consarn, afther +your cowardly behaver to this poor girl. Takin' away the Bodagh's +daughter was another thing; you had betther let the girl go home." + +Biddy had now recovered, and heard this suggestion with joy, for the +poor girl began to entertain serious apprehensions of Flanagan's revenge +and violence, if left alone with him; she could not speak, however, and +those who bore her, quickened their pace at his desire, as much as they +could. + +"No," said Bartle, artfully, "I'll keep her prisoner anyhow for +this night. I had once a notion of marryin' her--an' may be--as I am +disappointed in the other--but we'll think of it. Now we're at the +horses and we'll get an faster." + +This was indeed true. + +After the journey we have just described, they at length got out of +the boreen, where, in the corner of a field, a little to the right, two +horses, each saddled, were tied to the branch of a tree. They now made +a slight delay until their charge should be got mounted, and were +collected in a group on the road, when a voice called out, "Who goes +there?" + +"A friend to the guard." + +"Good morrow!" + +"Good morrow mornin' to you!" + +"What Age are you in?" + +"The end of the fifth." + +"All right," said Bartle, aloud; "now, boys," he whispered to his own +party, "we must tell them good-humoredly to pass on--that this is a +runaway--jist a girl we're bringin' aff wid us, an' to hould a hard +cheek (*To keep it secret) about it. You know we'd do as much for them." + +Both parties now met, the strangers consisting of about twenty men. + +"Well, boys," said the latter, "what's the fun?" + +"Devil a thing but a girl we're helpin' a boy to take away. What's your +own sport?" + +"Begorra, we wor in luck to-night; we got as party a double-barrelled +gun as ever you seen, an' a case of murdherin' fine--pistols." + +"Success, ould heart! that's right; we'll be able to stand a tug whin +the 'Day' comes." + +"Which of you is takin' away the girl, boys?" inquired one of the +strangers. + +"Begad, Bartle Flanagan, since there's no use in hidin' it, when we're +all as we ought to be." + +"Bartle Flanagan!" said a voice--"Bartle Flanagan, is it? An' who's the +girl?" + +"Blur an' agres, Alick Nulty, don't be too curious, she comes from +Bodagh Buie's." + +Biddy, on hearing the voice of her brother, made another violent +effort, and succeeded in partially working the gag out of her mouth--she +screamed faintly, and struggled with such energy that her hands again +became loose, and in an instant the gag was wholly I removed. + +"Oh Alick, Alick, for the love o' God save me from Flanagan! it's me, +your sisther Biddy, that's in it; save me, Alick, or I'll be lost; he +has cut me to the bone wid a blow, an' the blood's pourin' from me." + +Her brother flew to her. "Whisht, Biddy, don't be afeard!" he exclaimed. + +"Boys," said he, "let my party stand by me; this is the way Bartle +Flanagan keeps his oath!" (* One of the clauses of the Ribbon oath was, +not to injure or maltreat the wife or sister of a brother Ribbonman.) + +"Secure Bartle," said Biddy. "He robbed Bodagh Buie's house, an' has the +money about him." + +The horses were already on the road, but, in consequence of both parties +filling up the passage in the direction which Bartle and nis followers +intended taking, the animals could not be brought through them without +delay and trouble, even had there been no resistance offered to their +progress. + +"A robber too!" exclaimed Nulty, "that's more of his parjury to'ards uz. +Bartle Flanagan, you're a thraitor, and you'll get a thraitor's death +afore you're much oulder. He's not fit to be among us," added Alick, +addressing himself to both parties, "an' the truth is, if we don't hang +or settle him, he'll some day hang us." + +"Bartle's no thraitor," said Mulvather, "but he's a thraitor that says +he is." + +The coming reply was interrupted by "Boys, good night to yez;" and +immediately the clatter of a horse's feet was heard stumbling and +floundering back along the deep stony boreen. "Be the vestment he's +aff," said one of his party; "the cowardly villin's aff wid himself the +minit he seen the approach of danger." + +"Sure enough, the bad dhrop's in him," exclaimed several on both sides. +"But what the h--l does he mane now, I dunna?" + +"It'll be only a good joke to-morrow wid him," observed one of +them--"but, boys, we must think how to manage him; I can't forgive him +for the cowardly blow he hot the poor colleen here, an' for the same +rason I didn't dhraw the knot so tight upon her as I could a' done." + +"Was it you that nipped my arm?" asked Biddy. + +"Faix, you may say that, an' it was to let you know that, let him say as +he would, after what we seen of him to-night, we wouldn't allow him to +thrate you badly without marryin' you first." + +The night having been now pretty far advanced, the two parties separated +in order to go to their respective homes--Alick taking Biddy under his +protection to her master's. As the way of many belonging to each lodge +lay in the same direction, they were accompanied, of course, to the turn +that led up to the Bodagh's house. Biddy, notwithstanding the severe +blow she had got, related the night's adventure with much humor, +dwelling upon her own part in the transaction with singular glee. + +"There's some thraicherous villin in the Bodagh's," said she, "be it +man or woman; for what 'id you think but the hall-door was left lying to +only--neither locked nor boulted. But, indeed, anyhow, it's the start +was taken out o' me whin Ned M'Cormick--that _you_ wor to meet in our +kitchen, Alick--throth, I won't let _Kitty Lowry_ wait up for _you_ so +long another time." She added this to throw the onus of the assignation +off her own shoulders, and to lay it upon those of Alick and Kitty. +"But, anyhow, I had just time to throw her clothes upon me and get into +her bed. Be me sowl, but I acted the fright an' sickness in style. I +wasn't able to spake a word, you persave, till we got far enough from +the house to give Miss Oona time to hide herself. Oh, thin, the robbin' +villin how he put the muzzle of his gun to the lock of Miss Oona's desk, +when he couldn't get the key, an' blewn it to pieces, an' thin he took +every fardin' he could lay his hands upon." + +She then detailed her own feelings during the abduction, in terms so +ludicrously abusive of Flanagan, that those who accompanied her were +exceedingly amused; for what she said was strongly provocative of mirth, +yet the chief cause of laughter lay in the vehement sincerity with which +she spoke, and in the utter unconsciousness of uttering anything that +was calculated to excite a smile. There is, however, a class of such +persons, whose power of provoking laughter consists in the utter +absence of humor. Those I speak of never laugh either at what they say +themselves, or what any one else may say; but they drive on right ahead +with an inverted originality that is perfectly irresistible. + +We must now beg the reader to accompany them to the Bodagh's, where a +scene awaited them for which they were scarcely prepared. On approaching +the house they could perceive, by the light glittering from the window +chinks, that the family were in a state of alarm; but at this they +were not surprised; for such a commotion in the house, after what had +occurred, was but natural. They went directly to the kitchen door and +rapped. + +"Who is there?" said a voice within. + +"It's Biddy; for the love o' God make haste, Kitty, an' open." + +"What Biddy are you? I won't open." + +"Biddy Nulty. You know me well enough, Kitty; so make haste an' open, +Alick, mark my words," said she in a low voice to her brother, "Kitty's +the very one that practised the desate this night--that left the +hall-door open. Make haste, Kitty, I say." + +"I'll do no such thing indeed," replied the other; "it was you left the +hall-door open to-night, an' I heard you spakin' to fellows outside. I +have too much regard for my masther's house an' family to let you or any +one else in to-night. Come in the mornin'." + +"Folly me, Alick," said Biddy, "folly me." + +She went immediately to the hall-door, and gave such a single rap with +the knocker, as brought more than Kitty to the door. + +"Who's there?" inquired a voice, which she and her brother at once knew +to be Ned M'Cormick's. + +"Ned, for the love o' God, let me an' Alick in!" she replied; "we got +away from that netarnal villin." + +Instantly the door was opened, and the first thing Ned did was to put +his arms about Biddy's neck, and--we were going to say kiss her. + +"Saints above!" said he, "what's this?" on seeing that her face was +dreadfully disfigured with blood. + +"Nothin' to signify," she replied; "but thanks be to God, we got clane +away from the villin, or be the Padheren Partha, the villin it was that +got clane away from hus. How is Miss Oona?" + +"She went over to a neighbor's house for safety," replied Ned, smiling, +"an' will be back in a few minutes; but who do you think, above all men +in the five quarters o' the earth, we have got widin? Guess now." + +"Who?" said Biddy; "why, I dunna, save--but no, it couldn't." + +"Faix but it could, though," said Ned, mistaking her, as the matter +turned out. + +"Why, vick na hoiah, no! Connor O'Donovan back! Oh! no, no, Ned; that +'ud be too good news to be thrue." + +The honest lad shook his head with an expression of regret that could +not be mistaken as the exponent of a sterling heart. And yet, that the +reader may perceive how near akin that one circumstance was to the other +in his mind, we have only to say, that whilst the regret for Connor was +deeply engraven on his features, yet the expression of triumph was as +clearly legible as if his name had not been at all mentioned. + +"Who, then, Ned?" said Alick. "Who the dickens is it?" + +"Why, divil resave the other than Bartle Flanagan himself--secured--and +the constables sent for--an' plaze the Saver he'll be in the stone jug +afore his head gets gray any how, the black-hearted villin!" + +It was even so; and the circumstances accounting for it are very simple. +Flanagan, having mounted one of the horses, made the best of his way +from what he apprehended was likely to become a scene of deadly strife. +Such was the nature of the road, however, that anything like a rapid +pace was out of the question. When he had got over about half the boreen +he was accosted in the significant terms of the Ribbon password of that +day. + +"Good morrow!" + +"Good morrow mornin' to you!" + +"Arrah what Age may you be, neighbor?" + +Now the correct words were, "What Age are we in?" (* This order or +throng of the Ages is taken from Pastorini) but they were often slightly +changed, sometimes through ignorance and sometimes from design, as in +the latter case less liable to remark when addressed to persons not +_up_. + +"In the end of the Fifth," was the reply. + +"An' if you wor shakin' hands wid a friend, how would you do it? Or +stay--all's right so far--but give us a grip of your cham ahas (right +hand)." + +Flanagan, who apprehended pursuit, was too cautious to trust himself +within reach of any one coming from the direction in which the Bodagh +lived. He made no reply, therefore, to this, but urged his horse +forward, and attempted to get clear of his catechist. + +"Dhar Dhegh! it's Flanagan," said a voice which was that of Alick Nulty; +and the next moment the equestrian was stretched in the mud, by a heavy +blow from the but of a carbine. Nearly a score of men were immediately +about him; for the party he met on his return were the Bodagh's son, his +servants, and such of the cottiers as lived near enough to be called up +to the rescue. On finding himself secured, he lost all presence of mind, +and almost all consciousness of his situation. + +"I'm gone," said he; "I'm a lost man; all Europe can't save my life. +Don't kill me, boys; don't kill me; I'll go wid yez quietly--only, if I +am to die, let me die by the laws of the land." + +"The laws of the land?" said John O'Brien; "oh, little, Bartle Flanagan, +you respected them. You needn' be alarmed now--you are safe here--to the +laws of the land we will leave you; and by them you must stand or fall." + +Bartle Flanagan, we need scarcely say, was well guarded until a posse +of constables should arrive to take him into custody. But, in the mean +time, a large and increasing party sat up in the house of the worthy +Bodagh; for the neighbors had been alarmed, and came flocking to his +aid. 'Tis true, the danger was now over; but the kind Bodagh, thankful +in his heart to the Almighty for the escape of his daughter, would not +let them go without first partaking of his hospitality. His wife, too, +for the same reason, was in a flutter of delight; and as her heart was +as Irish as her husband's, and consequently as hospitable, so did +she stir about, and work, and order right and left until abundant +refreshments were smoking on the table. Nor was the gentle and +melancholy Una herself, now that the snake was at all events scotched, +averse to show herself among them--for so they would have it. Biddy +Nulty had washed her face; and, notwithstanding the poultice of +stirabout which her mistress with her own hands applied to her wound, +she really was the most interesting person present, in consequence of +her heroism during the recent outrage. After a glass of punch had gone +round, she waxed inveterately eloquent, indeed, so much so that the +mourner, the colleen dhas dhun, herself was more than once forced to +smile, and in some instances fairly to laugh at the odd grotesque spirit +of her descriptions. + +"The rascal was quick!" said the Bodagh, "but upon my credit, Biddy, +you wor a pop afore him for all that. Divil a thing I, or John, or +the others, could do wid only one gun an' a case o' pistols against so +many--still we would have fought life or death for poor Una anyhow. +But Biddy, here, good girl, by her cleverness and invention saved us the +danger, an' maybe was the manes of savin' some of our lives or theirs. +God knows I'd have no relish to be shot myself," said the pacific +Bodagh, "nor would I ever have a day or night's pace if I had the blood +of a fellow-crathur on my sowl--upon my sowl I wouldn't." + +"But, blood alive, masther, what could I 'a' done only for Ned +M'Cormick, that gave us the hard word?" said Biddy, anxious to transfer +the merit of the transaction to her lover. + +"Well, well, Bid," replied the Bodagh, "maybe neither Ned nor yourself +will be a loser by it. If you're bent on layin' your heads together +we'll find you a weddin' present, anyway." + +"Bedad, sir, I'm puzzled to know how they got in so aisy," said Ned. + +"That matter remains to be cleared up yet," said John. "There is +certainly treachery in the camp somewhere." + +"I am cock sure the hall--door was not latched," said Duffy; "for they +had neither stop nor stay at it." + +"There is a villing among us sartainly," observed Mrs. O'Brien; "for +as heaving is above me, I locked it wid my own two hands this blessed +night." + +"I thought it might be wid the kay, Bridget," said the Bodagh, laughing +at his own easy joke; "for you see, doors is ginerally locked wid +kays--ha! ha! ha!" + +"Faix, but had Oona been tuck away tonight wid that vag o' the world, +it's not laughin' you'd be." + +"God, He sees, that's only thruth, too, Bridget," he replied; "but +still there's some rogue about the place that opened the door for the +villins." + +"_Dar ma chuirp_, I'll hould goold I put the saddle on the right horse +in no time," said Biddy. "Misthress, will you call Kitty Lowry, ma'am, +i' you plase? Ill do everything above boord; no behind backs for me; +blazes to the one alive hates foul play more nor I do." + +We ought to have observed that one of Biddy's peculiarities was a more +than usual readiness at letting fly, and not unfrequently at giving an +oath; and as her character presented a strange compound of simplicity +and cleverness, honesty and adroitness, her master and mistress, and +fellow-servants, were frequently amused by this unfeminine propensity. +For instance, if Una happened to ask her, "Biddy, did you iron the +linen?" her usual reply was, "No, blast the iron, miss, I hadn't time." +Of course the family did everything in their power to discourage such +a practice; but on this point they found it impossible to reform her. +Kitty Lowry's countenance, when she appeared, certainly presented strong +indications of guilt; but still there was a hardness of outline about +it which gave promise at the same time of the most intrepid assurance. +Biddy, on the. other hand, was brimful of consequence, and a sense +of authority, on finding that the judicial power was on this occasion +entrusted chiefly to her hands. She rose up when Kitty entered, and +stuck a pair of red formidable fists with great energy into her sides. + +"Pray ma'am," said she, "what's the raisin' you refused to let me in +to-night, afther gettin' away wid my life from that netarnal blackguard, +Bartle Flanagan--what's the raisin I say, ma'am, that you kep' me out +afther you knewn who was in it?" + +There was here visible a slight vibration of the head, rather gentle +at the beginning, but clearly prophetic of ultimate energy, and an +unequivocal determination to enforce whatever she might say with +suitable action even in its widest sense. + +"An' pray, ma'am," said the other, for however paradoxical it may +appear, it is an established case that in all such displays between +women, politeness usually keeps pace with scurrility; "An' pray, ma'am," +replied Kitty, "is it to the likes o' you we're to say our catechize?" + +Biddy was resolved not to be outdone in politeness, and replied-- + +"Af you plaise, ma'am," with a courtesy. + +"Lord protect us! what will we hear next, I wondher? Well, ma'am?" Here +her antagonist stood, evidently waiting for the onset. + +"You'll hear more than'll go down your back pleasant afore I've done wid +you, ma'am." + +"Don't be makin' us long for it in the mane time, Miss Biddy." + +"You didn't answer my question, Miss Kitty. Why did you refuse to let me +in tonight?" + +"For good raisons--bekase I--hard you cologgin' an' whisperin' wid a +pack of fellows without." + +"An' have you the brass to say so, knowin' that it's false an' a lie +into the bargain?" (Head energetically shaken.) + +"Have I the brass, is it? I keep my brass in my pocket, ma'am, not in +my face, like some of our friends." (Head shaken in reply to the action +displayed by Kitty.) + +This was a sharp retort; but it was very well returned. + +"Thank you, ma'am," replied Biddy, "if it's faces you're spakin' about, +I know you're able to outface me any day; but whatever's in my face +there's no desate in my heart, Miss Lowry. Put that in your pocket." +(One triumphant shake of the head at the conclusion.) + +"There's as much in your heart as'll shame your face, yet, Miss Nulty. +Put that in yours." (Another triumphant shake of the head.) + +"Thank God," retorted Biddy, "none o' my friends ever knewn what a +shamed face is. I say, madam, none o' _my_ family iver wore a shamed +face. _Thiguthu shin?_" (Do you understand that? ) + +This, indeed, was a bitter hit; for the reader must know that a sister +of Lowry's had not passed through the world without the breath of +slander tarnishing her fair fame. + +"Oh, it's well known your tongue's no slander, Biddy." + +"Thin that's more than can be said of yours, Kitty." + +"If my sisther met with a misfortune, it was many a betther woman's case +than ever you'll be. Don't shout till you get out of the wood, ma'am. +You dunna what's afore yourself. Any how, it's not be lettin' fellows +into the masther's kitchen whiff the family's in bed, an' dhrinkin' +whiskey wid them, that'll get you through the world wid your character +safe. * * * An' you're nothin' but a barge, or you'd not dhraw down +my sisther's name that never did you an ill turn, whatever she did to +herself, poor girl!" + +"An' do you dar' for to call me a barge? * * * * Blast your insurance! +be this an' be that, for a farden I'd malivogue the devil out o' you." + +"We're not puttin' it past you, madam, you're blaggard enough to fight +like a man; but we're not goin' to make a blaggard an' a bully of +ourselves, in the mane time." + +[The conversation, of which we are giving a very imperfect report, was +garnished by both ladies with sundry vituperative epithets, which it +would be inconsistent with the dignity of our history to record.] + +"That's bekase you haven't the blood of a hen in you * * * sure we know +what you are! But howld! be me sowl, you're doin' me for all that. Ah, +ha! I see where you're ladin' me; but it won't do, Miss Kitty Lowry. +I'll bring you back to the catechize agin. You'd light the straw to get +away in the smoke; but you're worth two gone people yet, dhough." + +"Worth half a dozen o' you, any day." + +"Well, as we're both to the fore, we'll soon see that. How did you know, +my lady, that the masther's hall door was left open to-night? Answer me +that, on the nail!" + +This was what might be very properly called a knock-down blow; for if +the reader but reflects a moment he will see that Kitty, on taxing her +antagonist, after her rescue, with leaving it open, directly betrayed +herself, as there was and could have been no one in the house cognizant +of the fact at the time unless the guilty person. With this latter +exception, Alick Nulty was the, only individual aware of it, and +from whom the knowledge of it could come. Kitty, therefore, by her +over-anxiety to exculpate herself from a charge which had not been made, +became the unconscious instrument I of disclosing the fact of her having +left the door open. + +This trying query, coming upon her unexpectedly as it did, threw her +into palpable confusion. Her face became at once suffused with a deep +scarlet hue, occasioned by mingled shame and resentment, as was at once +evident from the malignant and fiery glare which she turned upon her +querist. + +"Get out," she replied; "do you think I'd think it worth my while to +answer the likes o' you? I'd see you farther than I could look first. +You, indeed! faugh! musha bad luck to your impidence!" + +"Oh, i' you plaise, ma'am," said Biddy, dropping a courtesy, that +might well be termed the very pink of politeness--"we hope you'll show +yourself a betther Christin than to be ignorant o' your catechize. So. +ma'am, if it 'ud be plaisin' to you afore the company maybe you'd answer +it." + +"Who made you my misthress, you blaggard flipe? who gave you authority +to ax me sich a question?" replied the other. "A fellow-servant like +myself! to the devil I pitch you. You, indeed! Faix, it's well come up +wid the likes o' you to ballyrag over me." + +"Well, but ma'am dear, will you answer--that is, i' you plaise, for sure +we can't forget our manners, you know--will you jist answer what I +axed you? Oh, be me cowl, your face condimns you, my lady!" said Biddy, +abruptly changing her tone; "it does, you yolla Mullatty, it does. You +bethrayed the masther's house, an' Miss Oona, too, you villin o' blazes! +If you could see your face now--your guilty face!" + +The spirit of her antagonist, being that of a woman, could bear no more. +The last words were scarcely uttered, when Lowry made a spring like a +tigress at her opponent, who, however, received this onset with a skill +and intrepidity worthy of Penthesilea herself. They were immediately +separated, but not until they had twisted and twined about one another +two or three times, after which, each displayed, by way of a trophy, a +copious handful of hair that had changed proprietor-ship during their +brief but energetic conflict. + +In addition to this, there were visible on Kitty's face five small +streams of liquid gore, which, no doubt, would have been found to +correspond with the red expanded talons of her antagonist. + +John O'Brien then put the question seriously to Lowry, who, now that +her blood was up, or probably feeling that she had betrayed herself, +declined to answer it at all. + +"I'll answer nothin' I don't like," she replied, "an' I'll not be +ballyraged by any one--not even by you, Misther John; an' what's more, +I'll lave the sarvice at the shriek o' day to-morrow. I wouldn't live in +the house wid that one; my life 'udn't be safe undher the wan roof wid +her." + +"Thin you'll get no carrecther from any one here," said Mrs. O'Brien; +"for, indeed, any way, there was never a minute's peace in the kitchen +since you came into it." + +"Divil cares," she replied, with a toss of her head; "if I don't, I must +only live widout it, and will, I hope." + +She then flounced out of the room, and kept grumbling in an insolent +tone of voice, until she got to her bed. Alick Nulty then detailed all +the circumstances he had witnessed, by which it appeared unquestionable +that Kitty Lowry had been aware of Flanagan's design, and was +consequently one of his accomplices. This in one sense was true, whilst +in another and the worst they did her injustice. It is true that Bartle +Flanagan pretended affection for her, and contrived on many occasions +within the preceding five months, that several secret meetings should +take place between them, and almost always upon a Sunday, which was +the only day she had any opportunity of seeing him. He had no notion, +however, of entrusting her with his secret. In fact, no man could +possibly lay his plans with deeper design or more ingenious precaution +for his own safety than Flanagan. Having gained a promise from the +credulous girl to elope with him on the night in question, he easily +induced her to leave the hall door open. His exploit, however, having +turned out so different in its issue from that which Kitty expected, +she felt both chagrined and confounded, and knew not at first whether to +ascribe the abduction of Biddy Nulty to mistake or design; for, indeed, +she was not ignorant of Flanagan's treacherous conduct to the sex--no +female having ever repulsed him, whose character he did not injure +whenever he could do so with safety. Biddy's return, however, satisfied +her that Bartle must have made a blunder of some kind, or he would not +have taken away her fellow-servant instead of herself; and it was the +bitterness which weak minds always feel when their own wishes happen to +be disappointed, that prompted her resentment against poor Biddy, who +was unconsciously its object. Flanagan's primary intention was still, +however, in some degree, effected, so far as it regarded the abduction. +The short space of an hour gave him time to cool and collect himself +sufficiently to form the best mode of action under the circumstances. +He resolved, therefore, to plead mistake, and to produce Kitty Lowry +to prove that his visit that night to the Bodagh's house was merely to +fulfil their mutual promise of eloping together. + +But there was the robbery staring him in the face; and how was he to +manage that? This, indeed, was the point on which the accomplished +villain felt by the sinking of his heart that he had overshot his mark. +When he looked closely into it, his whole frame became cold and feeble +from despair, the hard paleness of mental suffering settled upon his +face, and his brain was stunned by a stupor which almost destroyed the +power of thinking. + +All this, however, availed him not. Before twelve o'clock the next day +informations had been sworn against him, and at the hour of three +he found himself in the very room which had been assigned to Connor +O'Donovan, sinking under the double charge of abduction and robbery. + +And now once more did the mutability of public feeling and opinion as +usual become apparent. No sooner had fame spread abroad the report of +Flanagan's two-fold crime, and his imprisonment, than those very people +who had only a day or two before inferred that Connor O'Donovan was +guilty, because his accuser's conduct continued correct and blameless, +now changed their tone, and insisted that the hand of God was visible in +Flanagan's punishment. Again were all the dark traits of his character +dragged forward and exposed; and this man reminded that man, as that man +did some other man, that he had said more than once that Bartle Flanagan +would be hanged for swearing away an innocent young man's life. Such, +however, without reference to truth or justice, is public opinion among +a great body of the people, who are swayed by their feelings only, +instead of their judgment. The lower public will, as a matter of course, +feel at random upon everything, and like a fortuneteller, it will for +that reason, and for that only, sometimes be found on the right side. +From the time which elapsed between the period of Bartle's imprisonment +and that of his trial, many strange circumstances occurred in connection +with it, of which the public at large were completely ignorant. Bartle +was now at the mercy of a man who had been long looked upon with a +spirit of detestation and vengeance by those illegal confederations with +which he had uniformly declined to associate himself. Flanagan's +party, therefore, had now only two methods of serving him, one was +intimidation, and the other a general subscription among the various +lodges of the district, to raise funds for his defence. To both of these +means they were resolved to have recourse. + +Many private meetings they held among themselves upon those important +matters, at which Dandy Duff and Ned M'Cormick attended, as was their +duty; and well was it for them the part they took in defeating Bartle +Flanagan, and serving the Bodagh and his family, was unknown to their +confederates. To detail the proceedings of their meetings, and recount +the savage and vindictive ferocity of such men, would be pacing the +taste and humanity of our readers a bad compliment. It is enough to say +that a fund was raised for Flanagan's defence, and a threatening +notice written to be pasted on the Bodagh Buie's door--of which elegant +production the following is a literal copy:-- + +"Buddha Bee--You 'ave wan iv our boys in for abjection an' rubbry--an' +it seems is resolved to parsequte the poor boy at the nuxt 'Shizers--now +dhis is be way av a dalikit hint to yew an' yoos that aff butt wan spudh +av his blud is spiled in quensequence av yewr parsequtin' im as the +winther's comin' on an' the wether gettin' cowld an' the long nights +settin' in yew may as well prapare yewr caughin an' not that same +remimber you've a praty dother an may no more about her afore you much +shoulder. + +"Simon Pettier Staeught." + +This and several others of the same class were served upon the Bodagh, +with the intention of intimidating him from the prosecution of Flanagan. +They had, however, quite mistaken their man. The Bodagh, though +peaceable and placable, had not one atom of the coward in his whole +composition. On the contrary, he was not only resolute in resisting +what he conceived to be oppressive or unjust, but he was also immovably +obstinate in anything wherein he fancied he had right on his side. And +even had his disposition been inclined to timidity or pliancy, his son +John would have used all his influence to induce him to resist a system +which is equally opposed to the laws of God and of man, as well as to +the temporal happiness of those who are slaves to the terrible power +which, like a familiar devil, it exercises over its victims under the +hollow promise of protection. + + + + +PART VIII. AND LAST. + +As the Bodagh and his son took the usual legal steps to forward the +prosecution, it was but natural that they should calculate upon the +evidence of Dandy Duffy, Ned M'Cormick, and Alick Nulty. John O'Brien +accordingly informed them, on the very night of the outrage, that his +father and himself would consider them as strong evidence against Bartle +Flanagan, and call upon them as such. This information placed these +young men in a position of incredible difficulty and danger. They knew +not exactly at that moment how to proceed consistently with the duty +which they owed to society at large, and that which was expected from +them by the dark combination to which they were united. M'Cormick, +however, begged of John O'Brien not to mention their names until the +day after the next, and told him if he could understand their reason for +this request, he would not hesitate to comply with it. + +O'Brien, who suspected the true cause of their reluctance, did not on +this occasion press them further, but consented to their wishes, and +promised, not to mention their names, even as indirectly connected with +the outrage, until the time they had specified had elapsed. + +In the course of the following day Nogher M'Cormick presented himself to +the Bodagh and his son, neither of whom felt much difficulty in divining +the cause of his visit. + +"Well," said Nogher, after the first usual civilities had passed, +"glory be to God, gintlemen, this is desperate fine weather for the +season--barrin' the wet" + +John smiled, but the plain matter-of-fact Bodagh replied, + +"Why, how the devil can you call this good weather, neighbor, when it's +raining for the last week, night and day?" + +"I do call it good weather for all that," returned Nogher, "for you +ought to know that every weather's good that God sends." + +"Well," said the Bodagh, taken aback a little by the Nogher's piety, +"there's truth in that, too, neighbor." + +"I am right," said Nogher, "an' it's nothin' else than a sinful world to +say that this is bad weather, or that's bad weather--bekase the Scriptur +says, 'wo be to thee----'" + +"But, pray," interrupted John, "what's your business with my father and +me?" + +Nogher rubbed down his chin very gravely and significantly, + +"Why," said he, "somethin' for your own good, gentlemen." + +"Well, what is that?" said John, anxious to bring him to the point as +soon as possible. + +"The truth, gentlemen, is this--I'm an ould man, an' I hope that I never +was found to be anything else than an honest one. They're far away this +day that could give me a good carrechtur--two o' them anyhow I'll never +forget--Connor an' his mother; but I'll never see them agin; an' the +ould man too, I never could hate him, in regard of the love he bore +his son. Long, long was the journey he tuck to see that son, an', as he +tould me the day he whint into the ship, to die in his boy's arms; for +he said heaven wouldn't be heaven to him, if he died anywhere else." + +Nogher's eyes filled as he spoke, and we need scarcely say that neither +the Bodagh nor his son esteemed him the less for his attachment to +Connor O'Donovan and his family. + +"The sooner I end the business I come about to-day," said he, "the +better. You want my son Ned, Dandy Duffy, an' Alick Nulty, to join in +givin' evidence against blaggard Bartle Flanagan. Now the truth is, +gintlemen, you don't know the state o' the country. If they come into a +court of justice against him, their lives won't be worth a traneen. Its +aginst their oath, I'm tould, as Ribbonmen, to prosecute one another; +an' from hints I resaved, I'm afraid they can't do it, as I said, +barrin' at the risk o' their lives." + +"Father," said John, "as far as I have heard, he speaks nothing but +truth." + +"I believe he does not," rejoined the Bodagh, "an', by my sowl, I'll be +bound he's an honest man--upon my credit, I think you are, M'Cormick." + +"I'm thankful to you, sir," said Nogher. + +"I'm inclined to think further," said John, "that we have proof enough +against Flanagan without them." + +"Thin, if you think so, John, God forbid that we'd be the manes of +bringin' the young men into throuble. All I'm sorry for is, that they +allowed themselves to be hooked into sich a dark and murdherous piece of +villainy." + +"I know, sir, it's a bad business," said Nogher, "but it can't be helped +now; no man's safe that won't join it." + +"Faith, and I won't for one," replied the Bodagh, "not but that they +sent many a threat to me. Anything against the laws o' the counthry is +bad, and never ends but in harm to them that's consamed in it." + +"M'Cormick," added the son, "villain as Flanagan is, we shall let him +once more loose upon society, sooner than bring the lives of your son, +and the two other young men into jeopardy. Such, unhappily, is the state +of the country, and we must submit to it." + +"I thank you, sir," said Nogher. "The truth is, they're sworn, it seems, +not to prosecute one another, let whatever may happen; an' any one of +them that breaks that oath--God knows I wish they'd think of others as +much as they do of it--barrin' a stag that's taken up, an' kep safe by +the Government, is sure to be knocked on the head." + +"Say no more, M'Cormick," said the Bodagh's inestimable son, "say no +more. No matter how this may terminate, we shall not call upon them as +evidences. It must be so, father," he added, "and God help the country +in which the law is a dead letter, and the passions and bigoted +prejudices of disaffected or seditious men the active principle which +impresses its vindictive horrors upon society! Although not myself +connected with them, I know their oath, and--but I say no more. +M'Cormick, your friends are safe; we shall not, as I told you, call upon +them, be the result what it may; better that one guilty should escape, +than that three innocent persons should suffer." + +Nogher again thanked him, and having taken up his hat, was about to +retire, when he paused a moment, and, after some consideration with +himself, said-- + +"You're a scholar, sir, an'--but maybe I'm sayin' what I oughtn't to +say--but sure, God knows, it's all very well known long ago." + +"What is it, M'Cormick?" asked John; "speak out plainly; we will not +feel offended." + +"'Twas only this, sir," continued Nogher, "I'm an unlarned man; but he +would write to you may be--I mane Connor--an' if he did, I'd be glad to +hear--but I hope I don't offind you, sir. You wouldn't think of me, may +be, although many and many's the time I nursed him on these knees, an' +carried him about in these arms, an he cried--ay, as God is my judge, +he cried bitterly--when, as he said, at the time--'Nogher, Nogher, my +affectionate friend, I'll never see you more.'" + +John O'Brien shook him cordially by the hand, and replied--"I will make +it a point to let you know anything that our family may hear from him." + +"An' if you write to him, sir, just in a single line, to say that the +affectionate ould friend never forgot him." + +"That, too, shall be done," replied John; "you may rest assured of it." + +The Bodagh, whose notions in matters of delicacy and feeling were rough +but honest, now rang the bell with an uncommon, nay, an angry degree of +violence. + +"Get up some spirits here, an' don't be asleep. You must take a glass of +whiskey before you go," he said, addressing Nogher. + +"Sir," replied Nogher, "I'm in a hurry home, for I'm _aff_ my day's +work." + +"By ---, but you must," rejoined the + +Bodagh; "and what's your day's wages?" + +"Ten pence." + +"There's half-a-crown; an' I tell you more, you must come an' take a +_cot--tack_ undher me, and you'll find the change for the betther, never +fear." + +In point of fact in was so concluded, and Nogher left the Bodagh's house +with a heart thankful to Providence that he had ever entered it. + +The day of Flanagan's trial, however, now approached, and our readers +are fully aware of the many chances of escaping justice which the +state of the country opened to him, notwithstanding his most atrocious +villainy. As some one, however, says in a play--in that of Othello, +we believe--"God is above all," so might Flanagan have said on this +occasion. The evidence of Biddy Nulty, some of the other servants, +and the Bodagh, who identified some of the notes, was quite sufficient +against him, with respect to the robbery. Nor was any evidence adduced +of more circumstantial weight than Kitty Lowry's, who, on being +satisfied of Flanagan's designs against Una, and that she was +consequently no more than his dupe, openly acknowledged the part she +had taken in the occurrences of the night on which the outrages were +committed. This confession agreed so well with Bartle's character +for caution and skill in everything he undertook, that his object in +persuading her to leave the hall door open was not only clear, but +perfectly consistent with the other parts of his plan. It was a capital +crime; and when fame once more had proclaimed abroad that Bartle +Flanagan was condemned to be hanged for robbing Bodagh Buie, they +insisted still more strongly that the sentence was an undeniable +instance of retributive justice. Striking, indeed, was the difference +between his deportment during the trial, and the manly fortitude of +Connor O'Donovan, when standing under as heavy a charge at the same bar. +The moment he entered the dock, it was observed that his face expressed +all the pusillanimous symptoms of the most unmanly terror. His brows +fell, or rather hung over his eyes, as if all their muscular power had +been lost--giving to his countenance not only the vague sullenness of +irresolute ferocity, but also, as was legible in his dead small eye, +the cold calculations of deep and cautious treachery; nor was his white, +haggard cheek a less equivocal assurance of his consummate cowardice. +Many eyes were now turned upon him; for we need scarcely say that his +part of a case which created so much romantic interest as the conviction +of Connor O'Donovan, and the history it developed of the mutual +affection which subsisted between him and Una, was by no means +forgotten. And even if it had, his present appearance and position +would, by the force of ordinary association, have revived it in the +minds of any then present. + +Deprived of all moral firmness, as he appeared to be, on entering the +dock, yet, as the trial advanced, it was evident that his heart and +spirits were sinking still more and more, until at length his face, +in consequence of its ghastliness, and the involuntary hanging of his +eyebrows, indicated scarcely any other expression than that of utter +helplessness, or the feeble agony of a mind so miserably prostrated, as +to be hardly conscious of the circumstances around him. This was clearly +obvious when the verdict of "guilty" was uttered in the dead silence +which prevailed through the court. No sooner were the words pronounced +than he looked about him wildly, and exclaimed-- + +"What's that? what's that? Oh, God--; sweet Jasus! sweet Jasus!" + +His lips then moved for a little, and he was observed to mark his breast +prvately with the sign of the cross; but in such a manner as to prove +that the act was dictated by the unsettled incoherency of terror, and +not by the promptings of piety or religion. + +The judge now put on the black cap, and! was about to pronounce the +fatal sentence, when the prisoner shrieked out, "Oh, my Lord--my Lord, +spare me! Oh, spare me, for I'm not fit to die. I daren't meet God!" + +"Alas!" exclaimed the judge, "unhappy man, it is too often true, that +those who are least prepared to meet their Almighty Judge, are also the +least reckless in the perpetration of those crimes which are certain, +ere long, to hurry them into His presence. You find now, that whether as +regards this life or the next, he who observes the laws of his religion +and his country, is the only man who can be considered, in the true +sense of the word, his own friend; and there is this advantage in his +conduct, that, whilst he is the best friend to himself, it necessarily +follows that he must be a benefactor in the same degree to society at +large. To such a man the laws are a security, and not, as in your case, +and in that of those who resemble you, a punishment. It is the wicked +only who hate the laws, because they are conscious of having provoked +their justice. In asking me to spare your life, you are aware that you +ask me for that which I cannot grant. There is nothing at all in your +case to entitle you to mercy; and if, by the life you have led, you feel +that you are unfit to die, it is clear upon your own principles, and by +the use you have made of life, that you are unfit to live." + +He then proceeded to exhort him, in the usual terms, to sue for +reconciliation with an offended God, through the merits and sufferings +of Christ. After which he sentenced him to be executed on the fifth day +from the close of the assizes. On hearing the last words of the judge, +he clutched the dock at which he stood with a convulsive effort; his +hands and arms, however, became the next moment relaxed, and he sank +down in a state of helpless insensibility. On reviving he found himself +in his cell, attended by two of the turnkeys, who felt now more alarmed +at his screams and the horror which was painted on his face, than by the +fainting fit from which he had just recovered. It is not our design to +dwell at much length upon the last minutes of such a man; but we will +state briefly, that, as might be expected, he left nothing unattempted +to save his own life. On the day after his trial, he sent for the +sheriff, and told him, that, provided his life were granted by the +government, he could make many important disclosures, and give very +valuable information concerning the state and prospects of Ribbonism in +the country, together with a long list of the persons who were attached +to it in that parish. The sheriff told him that this information, which +might under other circumstances have been deemed of much value by the +government, had already been anticipated by another man during the very +short period that had elapsed since his conviction. There was nothing +which he could now disclose, the sheriff added, that he himself was +not already in possession of, even to the rank which he, Flanagan, was +invested with among them, and the very place where he and they had held +their last meeting. But, independently of that, he proceeded, it is not +usual for: government to pardon the principals in any such outrage as +that for which you have been convicted. I shall, however, transmit +your proposal to the Secretary, who may act in the matter as he thinks +proper. + +In the meantime his relatives and confederates were not idle outside, +each party having already transmitted a petition to the Castle in +his behalf. That of his relations contained only the usual melancholy +sentiments, and earnest entreaties for mercy, which are to be found in +such documents. The memorial, however, of his confederates was equally +remarkable for its perverted ingenuity, and those unlucky falsehoods +which are generally certain to defeat the objects of those who have +recourse to them. + +It went to say that the petitioners feared very much that the country +was in a dangerous state, in consequence of the progressive march +of Ribbonism in parts of that parish, and in many of the surrounding +districts. That the unhappy prisoner had for some time past made himself +peculiarly obnoxious to this illegal class of persons; and that he was +known in the country as what is termed "a marked man," ever since he +had the courage to prosecute, about two years ago, one of their most +notorious leaders, by name Connor O'Donovan, of Lisnamona; who was, at +the period of writing that memorial, a convict during life in New South +Wales, for a capital White-boy offence. + +That said Connor O'Donovan, having seduced the affections of a young +woman named Una O'Brien, daughter of a man called Michael O'Brien, +otherwise Bodagh Buie, or the Yellow Churl, demanded her in marriage +from her father and family, who unanimously rejected his pretensions. +Upon which, instigated by the example and practice of the dark +combination of which he was so distinguished a leader, he persuaded +memorialist, partly by entreaties, but principally by awful and +mysterious threats, to join him in the commission of this most atrocious +crime. That, from the moment he had been forced into the participation +of such an act, his conscience could not permit him to rest night or +day; and he consequently came forward boldly and fearlessly, and did +what he considered his duty to God and his country. + +That, in consequence of this conscientious act, O'Donovan, the Ribbon +ringleader, was capitally convicted; but through the interest of some +leading gentlemen of the parish, who were ignorant of his habits and +connections, the sentence was, by the mercy of government, commuted to +transportation for life. + +That, upon his banishment from the country, the girl whose affections +he had seduced, became deranged for some time; but, after her recovery, +expressed, on many occasions, the most bitter determinations to revenge +upon petitioner the banishment of her lover; and that the principal +evidence upon which petitioner was convicted, was hers * and that of a +girl named Bridget Kulty, formerly a servant in his father's house, and +known to have been his paramour. + + * This was a falsehood, inasmuch as Una, having been + concealed in another room, could give, and did give, no + evidence that any way affected his life. + +That this girl, Bridget Nulty, was taken into O'Brien's family at the +suggestion of his daughter Una; and that, from motives of personal +hatred, she and Bridget Nulty, aided by another female servant of +O'Brien's named Kitty Lowry, formed the conspiracy of which petitioner +is unhappily the victim. + +It then proceeded to detail how the conspiracy of Una O'Brien and the +two females she had taken in as accomplices, was carried into +effect; all of which was done with singular tact and ingenuity; every +circumstance being made to bear a character and design diametrically +opposed to truth. It concluded by stating that great exultation had +been manifested by the Ribbonmen of that parish, who, on the night +of petitioner's conviction, lit bonfires in several parts of the +neighborhood, fired shots, sounded horns, and displayed other symptoms +of great rejoicing; and hoped his excellency would, therefore, interpose +his high prerogative, and prevent petitioner from falling a sacrifice to +a conspiracy on one hand, and the resentment of a traitorous confederacy +on the other; and all this only for having conscientiously and firmly +served the government of the country. + +Our readers need not be surprised at the ingenuity of this plausible +petition, for the truth is that before government supported any system +of education at all in Ireland, the old hedge school-masters were, +almost to a man, office-bearers and leaders in this detestable system. +Such men, and those who were designed for the priesthood, with here and +there an occasional poor scholar, were' uniformly the petition writers, +and, indeed, the general scribes of the little world in which they +lived. In fact, we have abundance of public evidence to satisfy us, that +persons of considerable literasy attainments have been connected with +Ribbonism in all its stages. + +This fine writing, however, was unfortunately counteracted, in +consequence of the information already laid before the sheriff by no +less a personage than Rouser Redhead, who, fearing alike the treachery +and enmity of his leader, resolved thus to neutralize any disclosures he +should happen to make. But lest this might not have been sufficient to +exhibit the character of that document, the proposal of Bartle himself +to make disclosures was transmitted to the Secretary of State, by the +same post; so that both reached that gentleman, _pari passu_, to his no +small astonishment. + +Had Flanagan's confederates consulted him, he would of course have +dissuaded them from sending any petition at all, or at least, only such +as he could approve of, but such is the hollowness of this bond, and +so little confidence is placed in its obligation, that when any of +its victims happen to find themselves in a predicament similar to +Flanagan's, his companions without lead such a life of terror, and +suspicion, and doubt, as it would be difficult to describe. But when, +as in Bartle's case, there exists a strong distrust in his firmness +and honesty, scarcely one can be found hardy enough--to hold any +communication with him. This easily and truly accounts for the fact of +their having got this petition written and sent to government in his +name. The consequence was, that, on the day previous to that named for +his execution, his death warrant reached the sheriff, who lost no time +in apprising him of his unhappy fate. + +This was a trying task to that humane and amiable gentleman, who had +already heard of the unutterable tortures which the criminal suffered +from the horror of approaching death, and the dread of eternity; for +neither by penitence nor even by remorse, was he in the slightest degree +moved. + +"To die!" said he, staggering back; "to be in eternity to-morrow! to +have to face God before twelve o'clock! tarrible! tar--rible! tarrible! +Can no one save me? To die to--morrow!--tarrible!--tarrible!--tarrible! +Oh that I could sink into the earth! that the ground 'ud swlly me!" + +The sheriff advised him to be a man, and told him to turn to God,--who, +if he repented, would in no wise cast him out. "Act," said he, "as +O'Donovan did, whom you yourself prosecuted and placed in the very cell +in which you now stand." + +"Connor O'Donovan!" he exclaimed, "he might well bear to die; he was +innocent; it was I that burned Bodagh Buie's haggard; he had neither act +nor part in it no more than the child unborn. I swore away his life out +of revinge to his father an' jealousy of himself about Una O'Brien. +Oh, if I had as little to answer for now as he, I could die--die! Sweet +Jasus, an' must I die to-morrow--be in the flames o' hell afore twelve +o'clock? tarrible! terrible!" + +It was absolutely, to use his own word, "terrible," to witness the +almost superhuman energy of his weakness. On making this last disclosure +to the sheriff, the latter stepped back from a feeling of involuntary +surprise and aversion, exclaiming as he did it,-- + +"Oh, God forgive you, unhappy and guilty man! you have much, indeed, to +answer for; and, as I said before, I advise you to make the most of the +short time that is allotted to you, in repenting and seeking pardon from +God." + +The culprit heard him not, however, for his whole soul was fearfully +absorbed in the contemplation of eternity and punishment, and death. + +"Sir," said the turnkey, "that's the way he's runnin' about the room +almost since his thrial; not, to be sure, altogether so bad as now, but +clappin' his hands, an' scramm' an' groanin', that it's frightful to +listen to him. An' his dhrames, sir, is worse. God, sir, if you'd hear +him asleep, the hair would stand on your head; indeed, one of us is +ordered to be still with him." + +"It is right," replied the sheriff, who, after recommending him to get +a clergyman, left him, and, with his usual promptness and decision, +immediately wrote to the Secretary of State, acquainting him with +Flanagan's confession of his own guilt, and of Connor O'Donovan's +innocence of the burning of O'Brien's haggard; hoping, at the same time, +that government would take instant steps to restore O'Donovan to his +country and his friends. + +Soon after the sheriff left him, a Roman Catholic clergyman arrived, for +it appeared that against the priest who was chaplain of the jail he +had taken an insurmountable prejudice, in consequence of some fancied +resemblance he supposed him to bear to the miser's son. The former +gentleman spent that night with him, and, after a vast deal of exertion +and difficulty, got him so far composed, as that he attempted to confess +to him, which, however, he did only in a hurried and distracted manner. + +But how shall we describe the scene, and we have it from more than one +or two witnesses, which presented itself, when the hour of his +execution drew nigh. His cries and shrieks were distinctly heard from a +considerable distance along the dense multitudes which were assembled +to witness his death; thus giving to that dreadful event a character of +horror so deep and gloomy, that many persons, finding themselves unable +to bear it, withdrew from the crowd, and actually fainted on hearing the +almost supernatural tones of his yells and howlings within. + +In the mean time, the proceedings in the press-room were of a still +more terrific description He now resembled the stag at bay; his strength +became more than human. On attempting to tie his hands, five men were +found insufficient for the woeful task. He yelled, and flung them aside +like children, but made no attempt at escape, for, in truth, he knew not +what he did. The sheriff, one of the most powerful and athletic men to +be found in the province, was turned about and bent like an osier in his +hands. His words, when the fury of despair permitted his wild and broken +cries to become intelligible, were now for life--only life upon any +terms; and again did he howl out his horrors of death, hell, and +judgment. Never was such a scene, perhaps, witnessed. + +At length his hands were tied, and they attempted to get him up to the +platform of death, but to their amazement he was once more loose, and, +flying to the priest, he clasped him with the gripe of Hercules. + +"Save me, save me!" he shouted. "Let me live! I can't die! You're +puttin' me into hell's fire! How can I face God? No, it's tarrible! it's +tarrible! tarrible! Life, life, life--only life--oh, only life!" + +As he spoke he pressed the reverend gentleman to his breast and kissed +him, and shouted with a wildness of entreaty, which far transcended in +terror the most outrageous paroxysms of insanity. + +"I will not lave the priest," shrieked he; "so long as I stay with him +so long I'll be out of the punishments of eternity. I will stick to you. +Don't--don't put me away, but have pity on me! No--I'll not go, I'll not +go!" + +Again he kissed his lips, cheeks, and forehead, and still clung to him +with terrific violence, until at last his hands were finally secured +beyond the possibility of his again getting them loose. He then threw +himself upon the ground, and still resisted, with a degree of muscular +strength altogether unaccountable in a person, even of his compact and +rather athletic form. His appearance upon the platform will long be +remembered by those who had the questionable gratification of witnessing +it. It was the struggle of strong men dragging a strong man to the most +frightful of all precipices--Death. + +[Illustration: PAGE 311-- Most frightful of all precipices--Death] + +When he was seen by the people in the act of being forced with such +violence to the drop, they all moved, like a forest agitated by a sudden +breeze, and uttered that strange murmur, composed of many passions, +which can only be heard where a large number of persons are congregated +together under the power of something that is deep and thrilling in its +interest. At length, after a struggle for life, and a horror of death +possibly unprecedented in the annals of crime, he was pushed upon the +drop, the spring was touched, and the unhappy man passed shrieking into +that eternity which he dreaded so much. His death was instantaneous, +and, after hanging the usual time, his body was removed to the goal; the +crowd began to disperse, and in twenty minutes the streets and people +presented nothing more than their ordinary aspect of indifference to +everything but their own affairs.* + + * We have only to say, that W--m O--k, Esq., of Jj--sb--e, + sheriff of the county of D--n. and those who officially + attended, about four years ago, the execution of a man named + M--y--, at the gaol of D--rip--k, for a most heinous murder, + will, should they happen to see this description, not + hesitate to declare that it falls far, far short of what + they themselves witnessed upon this terrible occasion. + There is nothing mentioned here which did not then occur, + but there is much omitted. + +Such, and so slight, after all, is the impression which death makes upon +life, when the heart and domestic affections are not concerned. + +And now, gentle and patient reader--for well, indeed, has thy patience +been tried, during the progress of this tantalizing narrative--we beg +to assure thee, that unless thou art so exquisitely tender-hearted as to +mourn over the fate of Bartle Flanagan, the shadows which darkened the +morning and noon of our story have departed, and its eye will be dewy, +and calm, and effulgent. + +Flanagan's execution, like any other just and necessary vindication of +the law, was not without its usual good effect upon the great body +of the people; for, although we are not advocates for a sanguinary +statute-book, neither are we the eulogists of those who, with sufficient +power in their hands, sit calmly and serenely amidst scenes of outrage +and crime, in which the innocent suffer by the impunity of the guilty. +Fame, who is busy on such occasions, soon published to a far distance +Flanagan's confession of having committed the crime for which O'Donovan +was punished. John O'Brien had it himself! from the sheriff's lips, as +well as from a still more authentic statement written by the priest who +attended him, and signed by the unhappy culprit's mark, in the presence +of that gentleman, the governor of the gaol, and two turnkeys. The +sheriff now heard, from O'Brien, for the first time, that O'Donovan's +parents, having disposed of all their property, followed him to New +South Wales, a circumstance by which he was so much struck at the +moment, that he observed to O'Brien,-- + +"Do you not think it the duty of the Government, considering all the +young man and his parents have suffered by that rascal's malice, to +bring the whole family back at its own expense? For my part, aware as +I am of the excellent disposition of the Secretary, I think, if we ask +them, it will be done." + +"Our best plan, perhaps," replied John, "is to get a memorial to that +effect signed by those who subscribed to the former one in his behalf. +I think it is certainly necessary, for, to tell you the truth, I doubt +whether they are in possession of funds sufficient for the expenses of +so long a journey." + +"I know," said the sheriff, "that there is little time to be lost, for +S----," naming the governor of the gaol, "tells me that the next convict +ship sails in a fortnight. We must, therefore, push forward the business +as rapidly as we can." + +Well and truly did they keep their words, for we have the satisfaction +of adding, that on the seventh day from the date of that conversation, +they received a communication from the Castle, informing them that, +after having taken the peculiar hardships of O'Donovan's singular case +into mature consideration, they deemed the prayer of the memorial such +as they felt pleasure in complying with; and that the Colonial Secretary +had been written to, to take the proper steps for the return of the +young man and his parents to their own country at the expense of the +Government. + +This was enough, and almost more than O'Brien expected. He had now done +as much as could be done for the present, and nothing remained but to +await their arrival with hope and patience. In truth, the prospect that +now presented itself to the Bodagh's family was one in which, for the +sake of the beloved Una, they felt a deep and overwhelming interest. +Ever since Connor's removal from the country her spirits had gradually +become more and more depressed. All her mirth and gayety had abandoned +her; she disrelished reading; she avoided company; she hardly ever +laughed, but, on the contrary, indulged in long fits of bitter grief +while upon her solitary rambles. Her chief companion was Biddy Nulty, +whom she exempted from her usual employment whenever she wished that +Connor should be the topic of their conversation. Many a time have they +strolled together through the garden, where Una had often stood, and, +pointing to the summer--house, where the acknowledgments of their +affection were first exchanged, said to her humble companion,-- + +"Biddy, that is the spot where he first told me that he loved me, and +where I first acknowledged mine to him." + +She would then pull out from her heart the locket which contained his +rich brown hair, and, after kissing it, sit and weep on the spot which +was so dear to her. + +Biddy's task, then, was to recount to the unhappy girl such anecdotes as +she remembered of him; and, as these were all to his advantage, we need +scarcely say that many an entertainment of this kind she was called +upon to furnish to her whose melancholy enjoyment was now only the +remembrance of him, and what he had once been to her. + +"I would have been in a convent long before now, Biddy," said she, a few +days before Flanagan's trial, "but I cannot leave my father and mother, +because I know they could not live without me. My brother John has +declined Maynooth lest I should feel melancholy for want of some +person to amuse me and to cheer me; and now I feel that it would be +an ungrateful return I should make if I entered a convent and left +my parents without a daughter whom they love so well, and my brother +without a sister on whom he doats." + +"Well, Miss," replied Biddy, "don't be cast down; for my part I'd always +hope for the best. Who knows, Miss, but a betther lave may be turned +up for you yet? I'd hould a naggin' that God nivir intinded an innocent +creature like you to spind the rest of your life in sadness and sorrow, +as you're doin'. Always hope for the best." + +"Ah, Biddy," she replied, "you don't know what you speak of. His +sentence is one that can never be changed; and as for hoping for the +best how can I do that, Biddy, when I know that I have no 'best' to hope +for. He was my best in this world; but he is gone. Now go in, Biddy, and +leave me to myself for a little. You know how I love to be alone." + +"May God in heaven pity you, Miss Oona," exclaimed the poor girl, whilst +the tears gushed from her eyes, "as I do this day! Oh, keep up your +heart, Miss, darlin'! for where there's life there's hope." + +Little did she then dream, however, that hope would so soon restored to +her heart, or that the revolution of another year should see her waiting +with trembling delight for the fulness of her happiness. + +On the evening previous to Bartle Flanagan's execution, she was pouring +out tea for her father and mother, as was usual, when her brother +John came home on his return from the assizes. Although the smile of +affection with which she always received him lit up her dark glossy +eyes, yet he observed that she appeared unusually depressed, and much +more pale than she had been for some time past. + +"Una, are you unwell, dear?" he asked, as she handed him a cup of tea. + +She looked at him with a kind of affectionate reproof in her eyes, as if +she wondered that he should be ignorant of the sorrow which preyed upon +her. + +"Not in health, John," she replied; "but that man's trial, and the many +remembrances it has stirred up in my mind, have disturbed me. I am very +much cast down, as you may see. Indeed, to speak the truth, and without +disguise, I think that my heart is broken. Every one knows that a +breaking heart is incurable." + +"You take it too much to yourself, a lanna dhas," said her mother; "but +you must keep up your spirits, darlin'--time will work wonders." + +"With me, mother, it never can." + +"Una," said John, with affected gravity, "you have just made two +assertions which I can prove to be false." + +She looked at him with surprise. + +"False, dear John?" + +"Yes, false, dear Una; and I will prove it, as I said. In the first +place, there is a cure for a breaking' heart; and, in the next place, +time will work wonders even for you." + +"Well," said she, assuming a look of sickly cheerfulness, "I should be +very ungrateful, John, if I did not smile for you, even when you don't +smile yourself, after all the ingenious plans you take to keep up my +spirits." + +"My dear girl," replied John, "I will not trifle with you; I ask you now +to be firm, and say whether you are capable of hearing--good news." + +"Good news to me! I hope I am, John." + +"Well, then, I have to inform you that this day Bartle Flanagan has +confessed that it was not Connor O'Donovan who burned our haggard, but +himself. The sheriff has written to inform the Government, so that we +will have Connor back again with a name and character unsullied." + +She looked at him for a moment, then at her parents; and her cheek +still got paler, and after a slight pause she burst into a vehement and +irrepressible paroxysm of grief. + +"John, is this true?" inquired his father. + +"Vic va hoiah! John--blessed mother!--thrue?--but is it, John? is it?" + +"Indeed, it is, mother--the villain, now, that he has no hope of his +life, confessed it this day!" + +"God knows, darlin'," exclaimed the Bodagh's warm--hearted wife, now +melting into tears herself, "it's no wondher you should cry tears of joy +for this. God wouldn't be above us, a cushla oge machree, or he'd sind +brighter days before your young and innocent heart." + +Una could not speak, but wept on; the grief she felt, however, became +gradually milder in its character, until at length her violent sobbings +were hushed; and, although the tears still flowed, they flowed in +silence. + +"We will have him back, sartinly," said the Bodagh; "don't cry, dear, +we'll have him here again with no disateful villain to swear away his +life." + +"I could die now," said the noble--minded girl; "I think I could die +now, without even seeing him. His name is cleared, and will be cleared; +his character untainted; and that is dearer to me even than his love. +Oh, I knew it! I knew it!" she fervently exclaimed; "and when all the +world was against him, I was for him; I and his own mother--for we were +the two that knew his heart best." + +"Well," said John, smiling, "if I brought you gloomy news once, I +believe I have brought you pleasant news twice. You remember when I told +you he was not to die." + +"Indeed, John, dear, you are the best brother that ever God blessed a +sister with; but I hope this is not a dream. Oh, can it be possible! +and when I awake in the morning, will it be to the sorrowful heart I had +yesterday? I am bewildered. After this, who should ever despair of the +goodness of God, or think that the trial he sends but for a time is to +last always?" + +"Bridget," said the gracious Bodagh, "we must have a glass of punch; an' +upon my reputaytion, Oona, we'll drink to his speedy return." + +"Throth, an' Oona will take a glass, herself, this night," added her +mother; "an' thanks be to Goodness she'll be our colleen dhas dhun +again--won't you have a glass, asthore machree?" + +"I'll do anything that any of you wishes me, mother," replied Una. + +She gave, as she uttered the words, a slight sob, which turned their +attention once more to her, but they saw at once, by the brilliant +sparkle of her eyes, that it was occasioned by the unexpected influx of +delight and happiness which was accumulating around her heart. + +"Mother," she said, "will you make the punch for them to--night? +I cannot rest till I let poor Biddy Kulty know what has happened. +Cleared!" she added, exultingly, "his name and character cleared!" + +The beautiful girl then left the room, and, short as was the space which +had elapsed since she heard her brother's communication, they could not +help being struck at the light elastic step with which she tripped out +of it. Brief, however, as the period was, she had time to cast aside the +burthen of care which had pressed her down and changed her easy pace to +the slow tread of sorrow. + +"God help our poor colleen dhas," exclaimed her mother, "but she's the +happy creature, this night!" + +"And happy will the hearth be where her light will shine," replied her +father, quoting a beautiful Irish proverb to that effect. + +"The ways of Providence are beautiful when seen aright or understood," +observed her brother. "She was too good to be punished, but not too +perfect to be tried. Their calamitous separation will enhance the value +of their affection for each other when they meet; for pure and exalted +as her love for him is, yet I am proud to say that Connor is worthy of +her and it." + +That night her mother observed that Una spent a longer time than usual +at her devotions, and, looking into her room when passing, she saw her +on her knees, and heard her again sobbing with the grateful sense of a +delighted heart. She did not again address her, and they all retired to +happier slumbers than they had enjoyed for many a night. + +Our readers have already had proofs of Una's consideration, generosity, +and common delicacy. Her conduct at the approach of her lover's trial, +and again when he was about to leave her and his country forever, they +cannot, we are sure, have forgotten. When her brother had shown the +official communication from the Castle, in which government expressed +its intention of bringing Connor and his parent's home at its own +expense, the Bodagh and his wife,--knowing that the intended husband of +their daughter possessed no means of supporting her, declared, in order +to remove any shadow of anxiety from her mind, that O'Donovan, after +their marriage, should live with themselves, for they did not wish, they +said, that Una should be separated from them. This was highly gratifying +to her, but beyond her lover's welfare, whether from want of thought or +otherwise, it is not easy to say, she saw that their sympathy did not +extend. This troubled her, for she knew how Connor loved his parents, +and how much any want of comfort they might feel would distress him. She +accordingly consulted with her ever faithful confidant, John, and begged +of him to provide for them, at her own expense, a comfortable dwelling, +and to furnish it, as near as might be practicable in the manner in +which their former one had been furnished. She also desired him to say +nothing to their parents about this, "for I intend," she added, "to have +a little surprise for them all." + +About the time, therefore, when the vessel in which they were to arrive +was expected, a snug, well--furnished house, convenient to the +Bodagh's, amply stored with provisions, and kept by a daughter of +Nogher M'Cormick, awaited them. Nothing that could render them easy was +omitted, and many things also were procured, in the shape of additional +comforts, to which they had not been accustomed before. + +At length the arrival of the much wished-for vessel was announced, and +John O'Brien, after having agreed to let Una know by letter where the +Bodagh's car should meet them, mounted the day coach, and proceeded to +welcome home his future brother-in-law, prepared, at the same time, to +render both to him and his parents whatever assistance they stood in +need of, either pecuniary or otherwise, after so long and so trying a +voyage. + +The meeting of two such kindred spirits may be easily conceived. There +were few words wasted between them, but they were full of truth and +sincerity. + +"My noble fellow," said O'Brien, clasping Connor's hand, "she is at home +with a beating heart and a happy one, waiting for you." + +"John," replied the other fervently, "the wealth of the universe is +below her price. I'm not worthy of her, except in this, that I could +shed my heart's dearest blood to do her good." + +"Little you know of it yet," said the other smiling significantly, "but +you will soon." + +It appeared that Fardorougha's wife had borne the hardships of both +voyages better than her husband, who, as his son sensibly observed, had +been too much worn down before by the struggle between his love for him +and his attachment to his money. + +"His cares are now nearly over," said Connor, with a sigh. "Indeed, he +is so far gone that I don't know how to lave him while I'm providin' a +home for him to die in." + +"That is already done," replied O'Brien. "Una did not forget it. They +have a house near ours, furnished with everything that can contribute to +their comfort." + +Connor, on hearing this, paused, and his cheek became pale and red +alternately with emotion--his nerves thrilled, and a charm of love and +pleasure diffused itself over his whole being. + +"There is no use in my speaking," he exclaimed; "love her more than I do +I cannot." + +In consequence of Fardorougha's illness, they were forced to travel by +slower and shorter stages than they intended. O'Brien, however, never +left them; for he knew that should the miser die on the way, they would +require the presence and services of a friend. In due time, however, +they reached the place appointed by John for the car to meet them; and +ere many hours had passed, they found themselves once more in what they +could call their home. From the miser's mind the power of observing +external nature seemed to have been altogether withdrawn; he made no +observation whatever upon the appearance or novelty of the scene to +which he was conveyed, nor of the country through which he passed; but +when put to bed he covered himself with the bed-clothes, and soon fell +into a slumber. + +"Connor," said his mother, "your father's now asleep, an' won't miss +you; lose no time, thin, in goin' to see her; and may God strinthen you +both for sich a meetin'!" They accordingly went. The Bodagh was out, +but Una and her mother were sitting in the parlor when the noise of a +jaunting-car was heard driving up to the door; Una involuntarily looked +out of the window, and seeing two she started up, and putting her hands +together, hysterically exclaimed thrice, "Mother, mother, mother, assist +me, assist me--he's here!" Her mother caught her in her arms; and at the +same moment Connor rushed in. Una could only extend her arms to receive +him; he clasped her to his heart, and she sobbed aloud several times +rapidly, and then her head sank upon his bosom. + +Her mother and brother were both weeping. + +Her lover looked down upon her, and, as he hung over the beautiful and +insensible girl, the tears which he shed copiously bedewed her face. +After a few minutes she recovered, and her brother, with his usual +delicacy, beckoned to his mother to follow him out of the room, knowing +that the presence of a third person is always a restraint upon the +interchange of even the tenderest and purest affection. Both, therefore, +left them to themselves; and we, in like manner, must allow that +delicious interview to be sacred only to themselves, and unprofaned by +the gaze or presence of a spectator. The Bodagh and his wife were highly +gratified at the steps their children had taken to provide for the +comfort of Fardorougha and his wife. The next day the whole family paid +them a visit, but on seeing the miser, it was clear that his days were +numbered. During the most vigorous and healthy period of his life, he +had always been thin and emaciated; but now, when age, illness, the +severity of a sis months' voyage, and, last of all, the hand of death, +left their wasting traces upon his person, it would indeed be difficult +to witness an image of penury more significant of its spirit. We must, +however, do the old man justice. Since the loss of his money or rather +since the trial and conviction of his son, or probably since the +operation of both events upon his heart, he had seldom, if ever, by a +single act or expression, afforded any proof that his avarice survived, +or was able to maintain its hold upon him, against the shock which +awakened the full power of a father's love. + +About ten o'clock, a. m., on the fourth day after their arrival, Connor, +who had run over to the Bodagh's, was hurriedly sent for by his mother, +who desired Nelly M'Cormick to say that his father incessantly called +for him, and that he must not lose a moment in coming. He returned +immediately with her, and found the old man reclining in bed, supported +by his wife, who sat behind him. + +"Is my boy comin'?" he said, in a thin, wiry, worn voice, but in words +which, to any person near him, were as distinct almost as ever--"is my +boy Connor comin'?" + +"I am here, father," replied Connor, who had just entered the sick room; +"sure I am always with you." + +"You are, you are," said he, "you were ever an' always good. Give me +your hand, Connor." + +Connor did so. + +"Connor, darlin'," he proceeded, "don't be like me. I loved money too +much; I set my heart on it, an' you know how it was taken away from me. +The priest yesterday laid it upon me, out of regard to my reignin' sin, +as he called it, to advise you afore I die against lovin' the wealth o' +this world too much." + +"I hope I never will, father, your own misfortune ought to be a warnin' +to me." + +"Ay, you may say that; it's I indeed that was misfortunate; but it was +all through P----an' that nest o' robbers, the Isle o' Man." + +"Don't think of him or it now, my dear father--don't be discomposin' +your mind about them." + +Connor and his mother exchanged a melancholy glance; and the latter, +who, on witnessing his frame of mind, could not help shedding bitter +tears, said to him-- + +"Fardorougha dear, Fardorougha asthore machree, won't you be guided by +me? You're now on your death--bed, an' think of God's marcy--it's that +you stand most in need of. Sure, ayourneen, if you had all the money you +ever had, you couldn't bring a penny of it where you're goin'." + +"Well, but I'm givin' Connor advice that'll sarve him. Sure I'm not +biddin' him to set his heart on it, for I tould the priest I wouldn't; +but is that any raison why he'd not save it? I didn't tell the priest +that I wouldn't bid him do that." + +"Father," said Connor, "for the love o' God will you put these thoughts +out o' your heart and mind?" + +"So Connor dear," proceeded the old man, not attending to him, "in +makin' any bargain, Connor, be sure to make as hard a one as you can; +but for all that be honest, an' never lind a penny o' money widout +interest." + +"I think he's wandherin'," whispered his mother. "Oh grant it may be so, +marciful Jasus this day!" + +"Honor ahagur." + +"Well, darlin', what is it?" + +"There's another thing that throubles me--I never knew what it was to +feel myself far from my own till now." + +"How is that, dear?" + +"My bones won't rest in my own counthry; I won't sleep wid them that +belong to me. How will I lie in a strange grave, and in a far land? Oh, +will no one bring me back to my own?" + +The untutored sympathies of neither wife nor son could resist this +beautiful and affecting trait of nature, and the undying love of one's +own land, emanating, as it did, so unexpectedly, from a heart otherwise +insensible to the ordinary tendernesses of life. + +"Sure you are at home, avourneen," said Honor; "an' will rest wid your +friends and relations that have gone before you." + +"No," said he, "I'm not, I'm far away from them, but now I feel more +comforted; I have one wid me that's dearer to me than them all. Connor +and I will sleep together, won't we, Connor?" + +This affectionate transition from every other earthly object to himself, +so powerfully smote the son's heart that he could not reply. + +"What ails him, Connor?" said his wife. "Help me to keep up his +head--Saver above!" + +Connor raised his head, but saw at a glance that the last struggle in +the old man's heart was over. The miser was no more. + +Little now remains to be said. The grief for old age, though natural, is +never abiding. + +The miser did sleep with his own; and after a decent period allotted +to his memory, need we say that our hero and heroine, if we may be +permitted so to dignify them, were crowned in the enjoyment of those +affections which were so severely tested, and at the same time so worthy +of their sweet reward. + +Ned M'Cormick and Biddy Nulty followed their example, and occupied +the house formerly allotted to Fardorougha and his wife. John O'Brien +afterwards married, and the Bodagh, reserving a small but competent +farm for himself, equally divided his large holdings between his son and +son-in-law. On John's mojority he built a suitable house; but Una and her +husband, and Honor, all live with themselves, and we need scarcely say, +for it is not long since we spent a week with them, that the affection +of the old people for their grandchildren is quite enthusiastic, and +that the grandchildren, both boys and girls, are worthy of it. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Fardorougha, The Miser, by William Carleton + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FARDOROUGHA, THE MISER *** + +***** This file should be named 16002.txt or 16002.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/0/0/16002/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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