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diff --git a/42555-0.txt b/42555-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e68b0c3 --- /dev/null +++ b/42555-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7638 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42555 *** + + BY THE BARROW RIVER + + AND OTHER STORIES + + + + + [Illustration: Yours faithfully Edmund Leamy] + + + + + BY THE BARROW RIVER + AND OTHER STORIES + + BY + EDMUND LEAMY + AUTHOR OF "IRISH FAIRY TALES," ETC. + WITH A FOREWORD BY KATHARINE TYNAN + + _WITH PORTRAIT_ + + DUBLIN: + SEALY, BRYERS AND WALKER + MIDDLE ABBEY STREET + 1907 + + + + + PRINTED BY + SEALY, BRYERS AND WALKER, + MIDDLE ABBEY STREET, + DUBLIN. + + + + +FOREWORD + + +Edmund Leamy was the beau-ideal of a chivalrous Irish gentleman, +patriot, and Christian. During a friendship extending over many years, +I never knew him fall short in the slightest particular of the faith I +had in him. His nature was poetic and romantic in the highest degree. +Through sunny and cloudy day alike he was Ireland's man, and his faith +in her ultimate destiny was never shaken. I have never known a nature +more lofty or more lovable. Long years of weak health and suffering, +under which most people would have sunk, could not alter his noble +nature. He kept his great, loving, true heart to the last. Even if +things were sad enough for him, it was happiness if they were well with +friends and neighbours. He did not know what it was to have a grudging +thought. The experiences which usually make middle-age a period +of disillusionment came to him as to other men, yet he was never +disillusioned; he had the heart of an innocent and trusting boy till the +day he died. To be sure there was one by his hearth who helped to keep +his illusions fresh; and his burden of ill-health was lightened for him +by God's mercy through the same bright and devoted companionship. He was +Ireland's man; all he did was for Ireland. He could not have written a +line of verse or prose for the English public, however sure he might +be of its suffrage and reward. He wrote a great deal for Ireland, and +although, I believe, he reached his highest development as an orator, an +orator, alas, sorely hampered by physical weakness, yet his stories and +his poems have so much of the personality of the man, the fresh, honest, +and sweet personality, that it has been thought well to rescue just a +handful from his many writings in Irish journals extending over a number +of years. He had not the leisure to make himself exclusively a literary +man. He was always in the thick of the fight; it would have broken his +heart to be otherwise. But the work he has left, especially his fairy +tales and dramatic stories, with their wealth of colour and their +imaginativeness, give some earnest of the work he might have done. His +book of _Irish Fairy Tales_, which has long been out of print, has been +republished in a worthy form; and I am sure the present volume, which +shows his fancy in a different vein, which contains a set of stories +that have not been brought together before, will also be welcome to his +countrymen. Were I to write his epitaph it would be--"Here lies a white +soul!"; and if I had to name the virtue paramount in him it would be +Charity, which in him included Faith and Hope. + + KATHARINE TYNAN. + ST. PATRICK'S DAY, 1907. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + BY THE BARROW RIVER 1 + "BENDEMEER COTTAGE" 17 + A NIGHT WITH THE RAPPAREES 26 + "WORSE THAN CREMONA" 39 + MAURYA NA GLEANNA, OR REVENGED AT LAST 50 + STORY OF THE RAVEN 64 + THE SPECTRES OF BARCELONA 78 + THE BLACK DOG 103 + THE GHOST OF GARROID JARLA 112 + TRUE TO DEATH 125 + "THE LIGHT THAT LIES IN WOMAN'S EYES" 136 + DEATH BY MISADVENTURE 146 + A MESSAGE FROM THE DEAD 154 + A VISION OF THE NIGHT 164 + THE PRETTY QUAKERESS 175 + MY FIRST CASE 200 + A VISION OR A DREAM? 221 + FROM THE JAIL TO THE BATTLEFIELD 234 + ALL FOR A WOMAN'S EYES 241 + THE RUSE OF MADAME MARTIN 268 + + + + +NOTE. + + +Amongst the stories here given is the last story the author ever wrote, +"The Ruse of Madame Martin." It was written in France during his last +illness and is now for the first time published. It is one of the +freshest and raciest in the volume. It has a vivacious sense of +actuality as well as delightful humour, and it shows that the author's +talent was at its brightest when death came to extinguish it. + + + + +BY THE BARROW RIVER. + + +"There are some who see and cannot hear, and some who hear and do not +see, and some who neither see nor hear, and you are one of these last, +Dermod, son of Carroll." + +The speaker was a man of about forty years, a little above the medium +height, of well-knit frame, of a sanguine complexion. His bushy brows, +shaded pensive eyes, that one would look for in a poet or a dreamer +rather than in a soldier, yet a soldier, Cathal, son of Rory, was, and +one of the guards of Cobhthach Cael, the usurper, who reigned over +Leinster; it was in the guard-room in the outer wall of the Fortress +of Dun Righ that he addressed these words to one of his companions, a +stripling of twenty, but of gallant bearing. + +"But what did you see or hear, O Cathal?" said another of the guards, +who numbered altogether some six or seven. "They say of you, Cathal, +that the wise woman of the Sidhe came to you the night you were born and +touched your eyes and ears, and that you can see and hear what and when +others cannot see or hear." + +"What matters it what I see or hear? What matters it what is seen or +heard, Domhnall, son of Eochy, when the king is blind and deaf, and +those about him also?" answered Cathal. + +"Why say you blind and deaf, O Cathal?" + +"Was it not but the last night," replied Cathal, "when the men of +Leinster were gathered at the banquet, and when the King of Offaly rose +up and the cry of _Slainthe_ sounded through the hall like the boom of +the waves on the shore of Carmen, that the king's shield groaned on the +wall and fell with a mighty clangour, and yet they heard and saw not, +and pursued their revelry. But seeing this, and that they had not +perceived, I rose and restored the shield to its place on the wall." + +"And what else did you see, O son of Rory?" + +"What else did I see? Was I not keeping watch on the ramparts of a +night, when the young moon was coming over the woods, and looking at +herself in the waters of the Barrow, and did I not see the Lady Edain +in her grinan looking out and waving her white arm--whiter than the +moon--and did I not hear her moaning, as the wind moans softly on a +summer night through the reeds of the river, and, as I listened and +watched, did I not see coming to the banks of the river, a woman with a +green silken cloak on her shoulders, who sat down opposite the dun, and +she was weaving a border, and the lath, or rod, she was weaving with was +a sword of bronze?" + +"And what do you read from that, O Cathal, son of Rory?" + +"What do I read from that? War and destruction I read from that, +Domhnall, son of Eochy--war and destruction; for when a king's shield +falls from the wall it means that his house will fall, and the woman +weaving with the sword was the long, golden-haired woman of the +Sidhe--dangerous to look on is she, Domhnall, son of Eochy, for whiter +than the snow of one night, is her form gleaming through her dress, and +her grey eyes sparkle like the stars, and red are her lips and thin, and +her teeth are like a shower of pearls, and dangerous is she to listen +to, Domhnall, for less sweet are the strings of the harp than the sound +of her voice; and she comes on the eve of battles, and she weaves the +fate of those who will fall; and she sat on the banks of the Barrow, +flowing brightly beneath the young moon, and when she will be seen there +again it will be red with blood." + +"But the Lady Edain, was she talking to the woman of the Sidhe, Cathal, +son of Rory?" + +"Evil betide you for your evil tongue, son of Eochy, mention not again +the name of the Lady Edain with that of the woman of the Sidhe, or it is +against the stone there, at the back of your heart, that the point of my +javelin will strike," and Cathal's soft eyes blazed with anger. + +"Far be it from me to say or think evil of the Lady Edain, Cathal," said +Domhnall, "but you said the Lady Edain was looking from her bower when +the green-cloaked woman of the Sidhe came to the Barrow bank?" + +"But she did not see her, Domhnall. No! no! she did not see the +green-cloaked woman, for who so sees her weaving spells, his hour is +come. No no! my little cluster of nuts did not see her, Domhnall, and if +she were moaning 'twas moaning she was for the youth that is gone away +from her--for the young hero, Ebor, who is away with Prince Labbraidh, +that is king by right, although you and I, are the guards of King +Cobhthach Cael here to-night. Oh, no, Domhnall, son of Eochy, my little +cluster of nuts did not see the woman of the Sidhe, for her life is +young and it is before her. I remember well, Domhnall, son of Eochy, the +night the dun was attacked, when I was as young as Dermod, the son of +Carroll, sitting there beside you, and when I caught the little girsha +from the flames, and she lay on the hollow of my shield--this very +shield against the wall here, Domhnall, and did it not gleam like gold, +ay, like the golden boss on the king's own shield, because of the golden +ringlets, softer than silk, that were dancing like sunbeams round her +little face, and did she not look up at me and smile, Domhnall, son of +Eochy, and the dun all one blaze. And, since then, wasn't she to me +dearer than my own, and have I not watched over her, and do you tell me +now that she saw the woman of the Sidhe?" + +"Not so, Cathal, not so, son of my heart," said Domhnall, "but you saw +the woman of the Sidhe," said he, "and what does it mean for you?" + +"Death," said Cathal, "death, Domhnall, did I not tell you it means +death for whosoever see her! But I am a soldier as you are, Domhnall, +and my father before me, and his father, and his father again died in +the battle; and why should not I, and no man can avoid his fate, +Domhnall? But the colleen of the tresses!--why should she die now, +Domhnall, why should she die now?" and Cathal spoke fiercely, "but woe +that she should be here to-night, where she has been for many a year +like a bird in a cage--and sure never bird had a voice so sweet--and +ruin and destruction coming as swift as the blue March wind comes across +the hills." + +"The king will keep her here, Domhnall," he went on, answering himself; +"for did not the Druid Dubthach, dead and gone now--and evil follow him +and sorrow feed on his heart wherever he is--tell him that so long as +the Lady Edain was kept a prisoner--ay, a prisoner, that's what she is +in the grinan--and so long as she remained unwedded, the dun would be +secure against all assault; but love found its way into the grinan, +Domhnall, and the Lady Edain gave her heart to Ebor, son of Cailté, +though never a word she spoke to him; but he is gone, gone away with the +exiled prince--gone, he who should be here to-night when the black ruin +is marching towards the dun! But she did not see the woman of the Sidhe, +Domhnall. No! no! don't say she saw the woman of the Sidhe!" and Cathal +bent his head down on his hands, and for a moment there was silence. + +Then he started: + +"Do you not hear, Domhnall--do you not hear?" and all the guards +strained their ears. + +In through the bare stone wall of the guardroom, a sound stole almost as +soft as a sigh; then it increased, and a melody as lulling as falling +waters in the heart of the deep woods fell on their ears, and, one by +one, the listeners closed their eyes, and, leaning back on the rude +stone benches, were falling into a pleasant slumber. Suddenly a brazen +clangour roused them. Cathal's shield had fallen from the wall on to the +stone floor. The bewitching music had ceased, and they were startled to +find that the "candle upon the candlestick," which gave light to the +room, had burned down half an inch. They must have been asleep for at +least half-an-hour. Cathal started up, and, bidding his comrades stuff +their ears if they heard the music again, he went out and mounted to the +rampart. Within it all was silent, and silent all without. The midsummer +moon, with her train of stars, poured down a flood of light almost as +bright as that of day. The Barrow River shone like a silver mirror, and +flowed so slowly that one might almost doubt its motion, and there was +not air enough stirring to make the smallest dimple upon its surface. +Cathal followed its course until it was lost in the forest that some +distance below stretched away for miles on either side of the river. +Between the forest and the dun, close to the latter, was the little +town, or burgh, with its thatched houses, in which dwelt the artificers +of the king. There too, all was silent, and as far as Cathal's eye could +see there was nothing stirring in any direction. He made the circuit of +the rampart, pausing only when he came to the grinan of the Lady Edain. +It was on such another night, only then the moon was not so full, he had +seen her at her open casement--on just such another night he had seen +sitting on the Barrow banks, the woman of the Sidhe. The casement was +closed, and there was no sign of the Lady Edain. But coming from the +woods along the bank, what was that gleaming figure? Cathal did not need +to ask himself. It was that of the woman of the Sidhe, and now she sits +upon the bank, and begins her task of weaving, and he notes the sparkle +of the points of the sword as she plies it in her work. And as he looks, +he sees, or thinks he saw, the Barrow river change to a crimson hue; but +the moon still shone from a cloudless sky, and he knows that he is the +victim of his imagination, and that its waters are silver bright. + +But he knew also that this second coming of the woman of the Sidhe +betokens that before the moon rise again--perhaps before this moon +set--the river would be crimson with the blood of heroes, and yet King +Cobhthach sleeps, fancying himself secure, in his dun, and there is no +one to pay heed to Cathal's warnings or visions, except, perhaps, some +of his comrades in the guard-room. And when the moon arose again what +would have been the fate of the Lady Edain--his little cluster of nuts. +A groan escaped the lips of Cathal as the question framed itself in his +thought. He could touch with his spear the casement within which she lay +sleeping, dreaming, perhaps, of the young lover far away. For a moment +the thought leaped to his mind that he should scale the grinan, force +open the casement, and carry out the Lady Edain anywhere from the doomed +dun; but her maids, sleeping next her, would be terrified, and cry out +and spoil his plot, and the Lady Edain might see the woman of the Sidhe, +and nothing then could save her. With a heavy heart he retraced his +steps, and, coming over the guard-house, he descended and entered the +guard-room. His companions were fast asleep. He strove to rouse them, +but failed. Some spell had fallen on them, and even while making the +effort he himself was smitten with the desire of sleep. The lids closed +on his eyes as if weighted with lead. He sank down on the stone bench +beside Domhnall, the son of Eochy, and faintly conscious of weird music +in his ears, he, too, fell into a deep slumber. + +The Lady Edain, even at the very moment when Cathal was looking towards +her casement, was tossing uneasily on her embroidered couch. Her maids +lay sleeping around her. She had been dreaming--dreaming that she was +wandering with her lover through a mossy pathway, lit with moonlight, +in the heart of the woods. And when her heart was full of happiness +listening, as she thought, to the music of his voice, suddenly through +the wood burst out on the pathway an armed band, and Ebor had barely +time to poise his spear when he fell pierced to the heart. She awoke +with a scream. There was light enough coming through the slits in the +casement to permit her to see that her maids were sleeping peacefully. +Yet, she was only half satisfied that she had been dreaming. She rose +from her couch, and, flinging a green mantle over her, fastening it with +a silver brooch, stepped softly to the casement, and, opening it, leaned +out. Her golden tresses fell to her feet, some adown her breast, others +over her shoulders, and as she sat there, in the full splendour of the +moon, one might well believe that it was the beautiful golden-haired, +green-robed woman of the Sidhe that had seated herself in the maiden's +bower. The soft influence of the moon descended upon the heart of Lady +Edain, and subdued its tumult. She glanced at the lucent waters of the +silent river, and along its verduous banks, but she saw no vision of the +woman of the Sidhe, for love had blinded her eyes to all such sights; +else she was doomed. Then she looked up at the moon, now slowly sailing +across the edge of the forest, and the thought came to her heart, which +has come to the lover of all ages and all countries, that the same moon +was looking down on him who was far away, and, perhaps, even at that +moment he, too, was gazing at it, and thinking how it shone on the +Barrow river; then her eyes rested on the line which divided the forest +from the fields that lay between it and the dun, and she saw the track +over which her lover had passed out into the forest on that fatal day +when he set out with Prince Labraidh into banishment. + +And even as she watched she thought she saw something emerge from the +forest and come in the direction of the dun. After a while she caught +the glint of weapons, and saw it was a horseman approaching--some +warrior, doubtless, seeking the hospitality of Dun Righ. She watched as +they came along, horse and man, casting their shadows on the grass. They +came right up under the rampart of the dun farthest from where she was, +and near to the door that led past the guardroom. + +While she was idly speculating whom he might be, she heard a strain of +music that seemed to creep along the rampart like a slow wind across the +surface of a river. She looked in the direction from which it seemed to +come, and then she saw a muffled figure somewhat bent, and saw gleaming +in his hands a small harp, while over his shoulder were two spears. + +Immediately the thought of the harper, Craiftine, who had gone away with +the banished prince, came to her mind. Perhaps he had come back, sent by +her lover to bring a message! + +"Only Craiftine," she said to herself, "could win from strings such +music as she now was listening to," and while she listened a soft +languor crept through her frame, and, leaning her head upon her hand, +felt as if she were falling asleep, but the music at once changed, and +it breathed now like the wind blowing over the fountain of tears on the +island of the Queen of Sorrow in the far western seas, and sorrow filled +her heart, and the tears, welling up into her eyes, banished sleep +from them, and, raising herself up, she looked straight at the harper +approaching. + +Yes, it was Craiftine! His bent head and stooping shoulders betrayed him +and his bardic cloak. He came on, still playing, until he stood on the +rampart facing the casement. + +Then the cloak was flung off. The stooping figure became erect, and in +the shining moonlight Edain beheld her warrior-lover, Ebor! + +Making a gesture to her to draw back, he placed his two spear shafts +against the casement, and in a second he was in the room, and the Lady +Edain was in his arms. + +He looked around him and saw the sleeping maidens. + +"We need not fear their awakening," he said softly. "All in the dun, +even the guards, are under the spell of the strain of slumber. Craiftine +came hither a while ago, and reduced all to sleep, save Cathal, son of +Rory, the captain of the guard, but he, too, now is under its spell. He +lent me his harp, which, even in my hands, retains some of its power. +But we have no time to spare. Array yourself quickly. My horse is below +the rampart; we have not a moment to lose." + +Edain needed no word to urge her. In a second she was ready. In another +Ebor was carrying her in his arms across the spear shafts to the +rampart. + +Letting himself down and then standing on the horse's back, he caught +her descending, placed her on the steed before him, and swifter than +light galloped off to the shelter of the forest. + +But, alas, for Ebor, as they rode away he glanced towards the banks of +the shining river, and he saw the woman of the Sidhe weaving her fateful +spells. + +The pathways of the silent forest were well known to Ebor, and he rode +on with his charge over pleasant mossy ways, reminding Edain of those +which she had seen in her dream. They had gone not more than a quarter +of a mile when she, who had been prattling merrily to Ebor, uttered a +frightened cry: + +"Oh, Ebor, look; there are armed men!" + +"They are friends, Edain," he replied, "friends, and now my bonnie bride +is safe at last." + +They had come to a wide glade. It was crowded with warriors, and through +the trees wherever the moonlight fell, Edain caught a glimpse of figures +and the glint of arms. Ebor jumped from his horse, and taking the Lady +Edain in his arms lifted her gently down. A warrior, of stately mien +and wearing the golden helmet of a king, advanced towards them. + +"A hundred thousand welcomes, Edain," he cried, as he clasped her in his +arms. + +It was her kinsman, Labraidh, the rightful King of Leinster, who had +come back to claim his own. Labraidh had been across the seas seeking +allies. On his return, he landed at the mouth of the Slaney, and, by +forced marches through the woods, had come hither. Unwilling to risk his +cousin's life by making an assault on the dun while she was still in it, +he easily yielded to the entreaties of his harper, Craiftine, and of +Ebor to allow them to undertake the task of effecting the escape of +Edain. He had known of old the skill of Craiftine and the courage and +address of Ebor, and did not doubt their success. And now that Edain was +free he determined to push on at once, and try the hazard of an assault +on the dun. But first he led the Lady Edain to his tent, where his wife, +the Lady Moriadh and her women were, and entrusting her to Moriadh's +care, he returned and put himself at the head of his troops, and gave +them their orders to push on as quickly as possible until they came to +the edge of the forest, within view of the dun. Ebor was at the prince's +side, happy in the knowledge that the Lady Edain was safe, and too full +of the desire of battle to give even a moment's thought to the vision of +the woman of the Sidhe. When they arrived at the edge of the forest they +halted for a while. They could see the ramparts plainly, and that no +one was moving on them. The moon had by this time gone down over the +forest, and in the east there was the first faint grey streak of dawn. +Then the prince drew out his forces into three battalions. The centre he +commanded in person, that to the right was under Ebor, and it was to +move along the river bank and make the assault in that direction. The +third battalion was to push round the fortress to the left. Orders were +given that no trumpets were to be sounded and no shout raised until the +troops were face to face with the foe. + +The garrison not dreaming of the near approach of Labraidh, who was not +known to be in Erin, was buried in sleep almost as deep as that which +sealed the lids of Cathal and his comrades in the guard-room. The +ramparts were scaled without much difficulty, and it was not until they +had passed within the inner wall and had surrounded the house of the +usurper that their presence was discovered, and then only when they +began to batter in the door. The noise was followed by the cry, "to +arms!" which rang through the whole fortress. It was heard by the +warriors in the other houses, who, hastily arming themselves, burst out. +A desperate hand-to-hand struggle took place, but surprise had given +complete advantage to the assailants. They hemmed round the now +desperate garrison with a ring of steel, growing ever narrower as their +ranks were thinning. Soon the cry of fire was raised. The king's house +was ablaze. He in front of it was fighting desperately, but one by one +his men were falling round him. The roar of the flames, which had now +spread to the other houses, mingled with the cries of the warriors +and the clangour of stricken shields. Prince Labriadh again and again +pressed forward to engage Cobhthach, but the tide of battle swept them +apart. To save the dun had become impossible, and Cobhthach determined +if he could to cut his way out. By desperate efforts he drove those who +were in front of him back against the inner rampart, and before they +could recover succeeded in leaping on it. He was perceived by Ebor, who, +guessing his design, leaped, by the aid of the handles of his spears, on +the rampart, and called on Cobhthach to turn and fight like a warrior +and not run like a coward, and he launched a javelin against him which +glanced off the helmet of Cobhthach. But Cobhthach stayed not, and Ebor +launched the second with a surer aim, which, striking Cobhthach through +the back, pierced his heart as he was endeavouring to spring to the +outer wall, and the usurper fell dead in the intervening ditch. Ebor was +on the point of again descending into the dun when his eye caught the +sight of a figure on the river bank. It was the woman of the Sidhe, no +longer weaving, but dabbling her hands in the waters of the river that +were now running red with blood. A cold chill seized his heart, for he +thought of the Lady Edain, and he knew that his hour had come. But he +would die fighting. He turned round, and coming against him along the +rampart was Cathal, son of Rory. The latter hurled his spear, to which +Ebor presented his shield, but it had been hurled with such force that +it pierced the shield, and entered into the vitals of Ebor. His only +weapon now was his sword, and as Cathal, son of Rory, pressed on him, +he, with all his remaining strength, drove it into Cathal's side; but +the effort exhausted his last strength, and he fell back dead, and +Cathal, son of Rory, fell dead beside him, and the woman of the Sidhe +still continued dabbling her hands in the crimson waters of the Barrow +river. + + + + +"BENDEMEER COTTAGE." + + +Some years ago I was on a visit with a friend in the county of Wicklow, +whose house was situated in one of the most delightful valleys of "the +garden of Ireland." It was when the lilac and the laburnum were in full +bloom and the air was sweet with scent. The weather was delightful, and +I spent most of my time out of doors, taking long walks over the hills +and through the hedgerows, musical with the songs of birds and soon to +be laden with the perfume of the hawthorn. + +In the course of my rambles I chanced one day to pass a rusty iron gate +fastened by an equally rusty chain, the base of which was partially +concealed by tall, rank grass, showing that it had not been opened for a +long time. The gate was hung upon two stone piers covered with lichen. +On the top of one was a stone globe. That which had surmounted the +other had been removed, or had fallen off through the action of time +and weather. From the gate a pathway once gravelled, but now almost +overgrown with grass, led up through a fair-sized lawn to a long, +one-storied cottage, stoutly built, the windows and door of which were +faced with stone, which, like that of the piers, was also stained with +lichen. The grass, pushed itself high over the threshold of the door and +almost reached the windowsills. The slates on the roof appeared to be +nearly all perfect, but were covered with brown or grey patches of moss +or lichen. A few of the slates had fallen away and exposed part of a +rafter. On the lawn, as doubtless was the case when the cottage was +inhabited, a number of sheep were browsing. In the centre of it was a +nearly circular piece of water, fenced by a wire railing. Towards this +pond the ground dipped gently, both from the roadside and from the +side immediately fronting the cottage. The gate pierced a long, high +hedgerow, and this it was, perhaps, that caused me stop to look over +it to see what lay beyond. The silent, almost grim desolation of the +cottage was a curious and striking contrast to the cheerful aspect of +all the others which I had seen in the neighbourhood, and this it was +that tempted me to cross a stile that was close to the gate and stroll +up to the cottage. The windows had been barred up with timber that was +giving way in some places. The door, which was of oak, was firm and well +secured, and over it I noticed a stone on which were carved some words, +of which at first, owing to the incrustation of lichen, I was able only +to distinguish the letters "ottage." By the aid of the ferule of my +walking stick I succeeded in clearing off the lichen so as to enable +me to decipher the inscription. It was "Bendemeer Cottage." The name +brought to my mind the familiar and delightfully melodious lines of +Moore:-- + + "There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream, + And the nightingale sings round it all the day long." + +And even while the echo of the melody was floating in my memory, my ear +caught the faint whisper of gliding water. I passed round the cottage +and saw a gentle stream close to a hedgerow, and between the cottage, +and near the stream, were a mass of tangled rose-bushes, which had long +ceased to flower, and were pushing forth only a few weak leaves. + +"And this was their bower of roses," said I, "in the days long gone; and +where are they who enjoyed its fragrance? Whither have they departed, +and why has the blight fallen on the bloom?" + +It was an idle question for there was none to answer it. I passed round +the cottage again and again. A few moments before I was unaware of its +existence, and already it had begun to exercise a fascination on me. + +"Is there," said I, "anyone in a far away land asking his heart 'Are the +roses still bright by the Bendemeer?'" for I doubted not that the name +was given to the stream as well as to the cottage. + +I turned home slowly and thoughtfully, and scarcely heard the blackbirds +trolling out their rich notes in the silence of the evening. The sight +of a ruined homestead--a sight, alas! so frequent in many parts of +Ireland, has always had a deep effect on me, for I cannot help conjuring +up the crackling fire upon the hearthstone lighting the faces of happy +children, and of speculating on the fate which awaited them when its +light was quenched and they were scattered far and wide across the seas. +But this desolate cottage whose name was so suggestive of youth and +bloom, and love and happiness, was like a ruined tombstone raised over +dead hopes--a mockery of their vanity. + +That evening I questioned my friend as to its history. He knew nothing +of it, though he had lived twenty years not far from it, and he rallied +me on my sentimental mood, and suggested that its former inhabitants had +got tired of it, that probably they had found some thorns amongst its +roses. + +"They were sentimental people like yourself," he said. "Probably town +bred, and that's what made them give it such an absurd name, and they +soon tired of love in a cottage." + +My friend was an extremely good-hearted, generous fellow, ever ready to +help another in distress; but he was prone to regard any one who would +sorrow over what he called imaginary woes as little better than a +simpleton. I saw there was no information to be gained from him, and I +could hardly look for any sympathy from him with my desire to procure +it. But the desire, instead of abating, increased, and I found myself +again and again taking the direction of the lonely cottage. But day +after day I saw only the sheep browsing on the lawn, and heard only the +murmur of the stream; and I was about giving up all hope of learning +its history, when it chanced that one evening I fell in with an old +shepherd, who, as I was crossing the stile on to the road, was coming +towards it. He saluted me in the friendly way so common until recently +with people of his class. I acknowledged his salute with equal +friendliness. He remarked on the fineness of the weather, and seeing +that he was inclined to be communicative, I resolved to continue the +conversation. I thought he was about to cross the stile, but instead he +pursued the road leading to my friends' house. + +"That's a lonely cottage over there," said I tentatively. + +"Oh, then, you may well call it lonely," said he, "but I mind the time +when it was one of the brightest cottages ye'd see in a day's walk in +the whole of the county Wicklow." + +"That must have been a long time ago," I rejoined. + +"Ay, thin, it is. It's fifty years ago or more. 'Twas about the time +that poor Boney was bet at Waterloo. Sure I mind it well. I was only a +gorsoon then, yer honour, but 'twas often and often I did a hand's turn +for the lady, and sure 'twas the rale illegant lady she was, yer honour, +with her eyes that wor as blue as the sky above us this blessed and holy +evenin', and her smile was as light and as bright as the sunbeams, and +her voice was sweeter nor the blackbird that's singin' this minit in the +elm beyant there, only twice as low." + +"And how long was she living there, and was she married?" + +"Troth thin, she was married, or at laste the poor crater thought she +was, and her husband was an illegant man, too. He was taller nor yer +honour, but twice as dark. He was a foreigner of some kind, but his name +was English, or sounded like it. It was Duran. And sure 'twas happy +enough they seemed to be, although there were no childre, and they wor +livin' there more nor three years, your honour, and you couldn't tell +which of thim was fonder of the other. And the cottage, yer honour, +t'was all covered with roses, and sure, 'tis myself that many a time +trimmed the rosebushes that ye might see up by the strame at the back of +the cottage, where the summer-house was. And did ye mind the pond in +front of it, yer honour?" + +"I did," I replied. + +"Well then 'twasn't a pond at all, yer honour but a quarry hole, and +nothing would do the young mistress but that a lake should be made out +of it, and didn't myself help to dam up the strame to let the water run +into the hollow ye see in the field, and a purty little lake it made, +to be sure. Ay, sure, 'tis I mind it well, for a few days after 'twas +finished, the news kem in that Boney was bet." + +"And did they live there long after that?" I asked. + +"Little more nor two years, yer honour, for the lake was made the first +year they wor there. But sure, 'tis the quare story it was, but no one +minds it about here now but myself. The neighbours' childre, that wor +childre wud me are all dead and gone, and sure they were foreigners, +and they didn't mix nor make with anyone outside their own two selves, +and till the cross kem they were as happy as the day's long." + +"And what was the cross?" + +"Oh, then, meself doesn't rightly know the ins and outs of it, yer +honour; but ye see the way it was--one day when the master was away in +Dublin, there drove up to the door a dark woman, that was more like a +gipsy than anything else, and with big goold rings in her ears, and +myself chanced to be in the garden behind the house trimmin' them same +rose bushes, an' I only heard an odd word or two. But as far as I could +hear, the dark woman, she was saying that the poor darlin' lady had no +right to call herself Mrs. Duran at all, for that he was ayther promised +to marry her, or was married to her, meself didn't rightly know till +after, for I was only a gorsoon then, yer honour, and didn't know much +about it; but when the strange woman went away, and I went into the +cottage to ask the mistress if she had any more for me to do, she was as +white as a ghost, she, that used always to be bloomin' like one of the +roses ye'd see in them hedges there in the month of June. Well, yer +honour, she told me she wouldn't want anythin' till mornin', and sure +meself never set eyes on her alive again." + +"Why, what happened?" + +"What happened is it, yer honour? Sure there never was a mournfuller +story. The master kem home that night, but there was no sign of the +poor mistress. I heard long after that she had left a letter, but I +never heard tell of what was in it. Well, sure, he was nearly out of his +mind, and then when there was no sign of her comin' back he went away to +foreign parts, and myself thought he'd never come back ayther, but he +came home one mornin' and he went on livin' in the cottage as he did +before when they wor together. The only one, barrin' an old woman of a +servant, that he ever let about the house, was myself, for ye see, yer +honour, he knew the poor young mistress had a likin' for me, and he used +to employ me in lookin' after the roses and keepin' the summer house in +order, where I often saw himself and herself sitting together, and often +it was he sat there lookin' as lonesome as a churchyard in the night, +yer honour, and sure 'twas hardly a word he ever spoke. And then I +knew that he was as fond as ever of the poor mistress, and that 'twas +thinkin' of her all the time he was. And didn't myself see her picture +in his bedroom, and ye'd think 'twas smilin' at ye she was out o' the +frame, and then I knew the strange woman had wronged her and him." + +"And how long did he live there alone?" + +"Sure, that's the quarest part of the story, yer honour. Ye see, when +the poor mistress was gone he didn't mind the lake, and the water began +to sink into the ground, and then there kem one dry summer when all +the strames in the country ran dry. It was the driest summer I ever +remember, and the grass was as thin and as brown as my old coat, and as +little nourishin', and sure one mornin' we noticed somethin' under the +shallow water of the lake, and what was it but the body of the poor +mistress? And after that when we buried her in the churchyard beyond the +hill there, the poor master left the place and the cottage was shut up, +for no one would live in it, and the fields around it were tuk by Mr. +Toole that had a farm next to it, and 'tis in the hollow where you might +see the sheep browsin' this minnit the poor lady was found." + + + + +A NIGHT WITH THE RAPPAREES. + +(_From the Memoirs of an Officer of the Irish Brigade._) + + +It was towards the end of October in the year before the Battle of +Fontenoy, and a few months before I joined one of the flocks of +"the Wild Geese" in their flight to France, that I fell in with the +experience which I am now about to relate. I had been staying for a few +days with a friend in the west of the County of Cork, and I had started +for home in full time, as I had hoped, to reach it before nightfall. +My shortest way, about five miles, lay across the mountains. It was +familiar to me since I was a child, and I felt sure I could make it out +in dark as well as in daylight. When I started a light wind was blowing. +Some dark clouds were in the sky, but the wind was not from a rainy +point, and I was confident that the weather would keep up. When, +however, I had traversed half the way, the wind changed suddenly and +a light rain began to fall. I pushed on more quickly, yet without +misgiving, but before I had gone a half-mile further the mountain was +suddenly enveloped in mist that became denser at every step. I could +scarcely see my hand when I stretched it out before me. The mossy +sheep-track beneath my feet was scarcely distinguishable, and now and +again I was almost tripped up by the heather and bracken that grew high +at either side. + +I found it necessary to move cautiously and very slowly; yet, +notwithstanding my caution, I frequently got tangled in the heather, but +succeeded in regaining the path. I continued on until I judged that I +had made another half-mile from the spot in which I was first surrounded +by the mist. How long I had been making this progress it was difficult +for me to estimate, but I became aware that the night had fallen, and I +was no longer able to distinguish anything even at my feet. I began to +doubt whether I was on the proper path, for sheep tracks traversed the +mountain in all directions. It occurred to me to turn into the bracken +and try to make the best shelter I could. The bracken here grew to a +height of nearly three feet, and some of the stalks were thick and +strong. I had often amused myself when a child twining the stalks +together, and making them into a cosy house, and often escaped thereby +from a heavy summer shower. The mere recollection of my childish efforts +lightened my heart, though I was conscious enough that the experiment I +was about to make was not likely to be very successful. But I set to, +and tore up some of the bracken, and began to twist it around the +standing clumps so as to form a roof, but when I had gone on a few feet +from the track I felt the ground slipping from my feet. I caught hold +of a clump of bracken only to pull it from the roots, and to find myself +sliding down I knew not whither. Stones were rumbling by my side, but +fortunately none of them touched me, and quicker than I can tell it I +was lying prone on the earth. I stretched out my hands, and found level +ground as far as I could reach on either side. I struggled till I +regained my feet. I was dazed for a while, but when I fully recovered +myself I was utterly perplexed as to what I was to do. After the +experience which I had had I was afraid to move either to the right or +left. I stood still, and I am not ashamed to say that I could distinctly +hear the beating of my heart. The mist still enveloped me, so I was +unable to see anything. Suddenly I thought I heard the sound of voices, +but set that down to my imagination, for I knew there was no house +within miles of me. I listened, however, with the utmost eagerness, and +again I heard the voices. + +I was about to shout when the mist a little in advance of me was +brightened, as if a light were thrown on it. Instinctively I advanced +in the direction of the luminous haze, when I felt myself caught by the +neck by a firm grasp, and I was flung forward. My feet slipped on some +projection, and I fell headlong. + +When I managed to raise myself I saw I was in a dwelling of some +kind, partially lighted by the blaze of a turf fire. Several men were +present, and I distinctly saw the flash of firearms. There was at once a +confusion of voices, and I was pulled to my feet by one of the men, who +presented a horse-pistol at my head. + +"Shoot him! He is a Sassenach spy!" came in a hoarse chorus from the men +around the fire. + +"No Sassenach am I," I answered back, endeavouring to shake myself free +from the grip of the man who held me. + +"And who are you? And whence come you?" he asked, fiercely. + +"Frank O'Mahony," I said, "the son of Shaun O'Mahony, of the Glen." + +"Let me look at him," cried an old woman, whom I had not previously +noticed, and she shook off the grip of my captor and brought me towards +the fire. + +With a corner of her shawl she rubbed my face, and then she caught me in +her arms. + +"Ah, then, 'tis Frank--Frank O'Mahony," said she. "Shure I nursed your +mother, avourneen, on my knee. But 'tis no wondher the boys didn't know +you, for your own mother wouldn't know you with the wet clay of the +mountain plastered over your face, and 'tis you are welcome, Frank +avourneen, in daylight or in dark, and shure no true Rapparee need close +the doore again your father's son." + +When the old woman had done speaking, the man who had seized me clasped +my hand. + +"Frank, my boy," said he, "you're welcome--welcome as the flowers of +May. Make room for him there, comrades; don't you see the boy is cowld +and wet." + +And they made a place for me, and the old woman brewed a steaming jug of +poteen, and she said to the others that I wasn't to be asked a question +until I had taken some of her mountain medicine. + +Hardly had I taken the medicine when I felt pretty comfortable, and then +when I got time to look about me I saw I was in something like a cave of +large dimensions, half of which was in shadow owing to the imperfect +light. + +About half-a-dozen men came in shortly after my arrival, and then the +whole force numbered thirty. + +When all who had been expected had come, the captain, who was the man +who had seized me said--addressing me:-- + +"Help and comfort we always got from your father, Frank O'Mahony. Ah, +and if the truth were known, my boy, he spent many a night on the hills +with the Rapparees. May Heaven be his bed to-night. You are over young +yet, but still not too young to strike a blow for Ireland. There isn't a +man here who wouldn't die for you if necessary." + +"I hope to strike a blow for Ireland," I said, "but word has come from +my uncle, Colonel O'Mahony, that he wishes me to go to France and join +him." "God bless the Colonel, wherever he is," said the captain, "he'll +never miss the chance, but would to God he was with us at home. The +best--the best and the bravest have gone away from us." + +"What are you saying, man," said the old woman, suddenly confronting +him. "There's not a colonel nor a general in the whole French army a bit +boulder or braver than our own Rapparees." + +"We do our best, Moira asthoreen," said the captain, laying his hand on +her shoulder, "but the men who are gone away are winning fame for the +old land, God bless them all. For sure their thoughts are always with +poor Ireland, and every blow they strike they strike for her, and their +pride in the hour of victory is because their own old land hears of it." + +"Ay, and every blow the Rapparees strike, they strike for her, too," +said Moira, "and 'tis no living there would be no living at all at all +for poor people here at home if it weren't for the boys, and--come there +now, Jem Mullooney, and give us a stave about my bowld Rapparees. Yes, +you can do it when you like, and I bet Master Frank here never heard +it." + +I admitted I never had, and I cordially joined in the chorus which +followed, and endorsed Moira's demand. + +Moira, apparently delighted to hear me backing up her demand, said: + +"Musha, good luck to the mist that brought you here, Master Frank," said +she, "and sure that same mist has often proved a great friend to the +Rapparees." + +The men had seated themselves around the cave as best they could, some +on bunches of heather, some on sods of turf, some on roots of trees +roughly shaped into a seat. The captain, a few others and myself, were +sitting close to the fire. + +Jem Mullooney was nearly opposite me. The firelight flashing in his +direction, enabled me to catch a full view of his face, and a fine face +it was, though a little too long. You knew at a glance you could trust +your life with him, but he looked like a pleased boy when he was +importuned to give us the song. + +Clearing his throat with the least taste of Moira's medicine, he +struck out in a rich voice, to a rattling air, accompanying himself +occasionally with dramatic gestures, the following song:-- + + "THE RAPPAREES. + + "Thirty troopers in the glen, + Thirty, stalwart fearless men; + All alert and cool and steady; + Sabres loose and carbines ready, + But who are moving through the trees? + Bang! Bang! they are the Rapparees! + + CHORUS: + + Bang! Bang! they are the Rapparees! + + "Twenty troopers in the glen----, + That volley emptied saddles ten? + Twenty troopers gain the hill----, + 'Halt,' their captain cries 'until + We breathe our horses.' 'If you please, + You'll first ask leave of the Rapparees.' + + CHORUS: + + 'You'll first ask leave of the Rapparees.' + + "The heather seems alive to-night; + Muskets flash a-left, a-right. + Troopers ten are scurrying fast + As clouds before the winter blast, + And empty ten more saddle trees. + 'Tis you can shoot, my Rapparees. + + CHORUS: + + ''Tis you can shoot, my Rapparees.'" + +The applause which followed the song had barely ceased, when a low +whistle was heard from outside. + +"Open!" cried the captain of the Rapparees. + +The barrier closing the entrance to the cave was removed, and a man +covered with perspiration, and almost fainting for want of breath, +rushed in. + +"Two troops of infantry left Adamstown Barracks three hours ago. +Shaun-na-cappal was with them." + +"Shaun-na-cappal!" + +"Yes! They made for the red lanes, and ought to be in the glen by this." + +Another low whistle was heard, when the door was again opened, and a lad +burst in. + +"The sojers are in the glen, captain, and the clouds are going and the +moon is coming." + +"Well, my lads," said the captain, "our retreat is discovered. They +think they will catch us here like rats in a trap. Perhaps we can set +one for them. Bar the entrance. Pile up everything; make it as firm as +you can." + +The men set to work with a will, and their task was soon completed. The +captain, having surveyed it, said: + +"That will do, men. They won't burst in that in a hurry. We have a means +of escape, which I have hitherto kept to myself. Get a few picks and +loosen the hearth stone. That will do. Lift it up now, boys, and leave +it in the centre of the floor." + +The men did as they were bidden, and when the stone had been set down, +the captain, catching up one of the flaming brands, held it over the +opening discovered by the removal of the hearth stone. It was large +enough to allow a man to go down through it. + +"Nine or ten steps," said the captain, "lead to a narrow passage, +through which by stooping a man can make his way. It is not more than +fifty yards long. The outlet is blocked by a bank of earth; but just +there the passage is wide and high enough to allow two men to stand +abreast and erect. A hole can easily be cut or dug through this bank. + +"You, O'Donovan," he said, turning sharply to one of the Rapparees, +"will know, once you are outside, where you are--close to the stream +that runs down to the glen. Take a dozen men with you, turn to the left, +and five minutes will bring you to the heathery height above the left of +the track leading to this cave. And you, Mullooney," said the captain +to the singer of "The Rapparees," "take a score of men with you, and +make for the right. You'll have a bit of climbing at first, but in ten +minutes you should be able to get down to the right bank of the track. +Be all of you as wary as foxes, and let not a sound escape from any of +you, even if you see the enemy coming right up to the door of the cave, +and none of you are to fire a shot until you see a flaming brand flung +out by us who will remain here to defend the cave against assault, but +when you see the lighted brand, blaze away! If they waver, down on them +like thunderbolts. When you beat them off, you will find us here, if +not, we shall be at the sally gap two hours from this. Now go!" + +"Would you like to go or stay, Frank?" said the captain, turning to me. + +"I should like to go," I replied. + +"All right, my lad. Look to him, O'Donnell, and take this Frank," said +he, handing me a musket, "it has never missed fire." + +The two bodies of men descended in single file. The air of the passage +was remarkably pure, and we made our way without difficulty. Then there +was a halt of a few minutes while the foremost men were forcing a +passage. One by one we passed out, and found ourselves knee-deep in the +heather. A brawling stream ran down a few feet below us. O'Donovan and +his men crept along by the stream. We, with O'Donnell at our head, +clambered up through the heather, and in about ten minutes we were +lying snugly concealed within fifteen yards of the rock in which was +the cave entrance. + +We were lying at right angles to it, and about twelve feet above the +open space in front of the rock. It was from this very height I had +fallen an hour before. Opposite us the ground was about the same +elevation as ours, and in the cover of the heather which crowned it, +O'Donovan and his men were to ensconce themselves. + +The moon was shining, and for about twenty yards we had a full view of +the pathway leading to the cave. At that distance it took a sharp turn. +I had barely time to make these observations, when we saw the moonlight +glint on the level arms of the advancing troops. In a few seconds +they were against the face of the rock. With the soldiers was a tall, +wiry-looking man, dressed in a long frieze coat that went to his heels. + +"Where is the entrance?" cried the captain of the troops. "I can find +none." + +"There," came the answer in a hoarse whisper. + +"There, behind those furze bushes." + +"Come, my lads," said the captain, "clear away those bushes." + +The soldiers began to work. Our fingers were impatient. The desire to +fire grew upon me, when suddenly from the cave came a flash, a report, +and the tall man in the frieze coat fell without a moan. Another shot +and another and two soldiers were struck down. + +"Quick, my lads, quick! Bring a canister, and we'll blow the door in or +out." + +The soldiers advanced with the canister, and were about to set it down +at the cave's mouth. Only then was hurled out the red brand, the signal +for firing. + +We poured a volley into their midst, O'Donovan's men firing at the same +time, while single firing was kept up from the cave. + +The troops were staggered; their captain was shot dead. They paused for +a moment; then, as they turned to run, a second volley laid low more +than half their number. + +"Down on them!" cried O'Donnell. + +We hurled ourselves down into the path. O'Donovan's men as eager, but +with a view to cutting off all hope of retreat, had rushed down on the +other side so as to meet them retreating. Caught between the two forces, +the soldiers clubbed their muskets and fought desperately. Not more than +four or five escaped. Desisting from the pursuit, we returned to the +cave. + +Our captain and the men with him had, in the meantime, removed the +barrier and were standing outside. We were all curious to see the +opening through which the captain fired, and through which he threw the +lighted brand. No one except himself had known of it. It was a fissure +in the rock which had been closed up with clay and moss, and which the +captain, when we left the cave, dug out with a bayonet. + +In the meantime some of our men were examining the fallen enemy, and +found five that were wounded only. These were borne into the cave and +placed under the charge of the old woman, the captain saying that a +large body of troops were sure to come out next day who would take them +away. + +There was one object that attracted universal attention--the corpse of +Shaun-na-cappal. He had fallen on his back; a bullet had pierced his +throat; from the round hole the blood was still flowing. His mouth +grinned horribly, and we felt it a relief when a dark cloud covered the +moon, which had been shining down on the upturned face and open eyes. +The captain having given his orders, and having arranged for the next +meeting with his followers they dispersed, and he, having given some +instructions to Moira with regard to the wounded, set out, taking me +along with him. We found shelter that night in a little shebeen about +two miles away from the cave. + +And that is the story of my first night with the Rapparees. + + + + +"WORSE THAN CREMONA." + +(_A Story of the days of the Irish Brigade._) + + +Towards the end of October, in the year 1704, a man of middling height, +with a face rather thin and long, was seated at a table on which were +spread some military maps. Over these he had been poring for some time. +When he looked up from them, his dark, eager eyes revealed a nature +alert, resourceful and vigorous. One glance at him, as he looked +straight before him, was sufficient to convince every observer that here +was a man accustomed to command by the right of genius. The military +costume in which he was dressed betrayed no evidence of high rank. It +was, it must be confessed, plain almost to the verge of sloveliness, and +the breast of his doublet was stained with snuff. Beside him on the +table was a golden snuff-box, on the lid of which, set in brilliants, +was a portrait of the Emperor Leopold I. of Austria, and to this he +frequently had recourse, even while studying the maps most carefully. + +He was alone. The room in which he was sitting looked in the direction +of the camp of the allies, then besieging Landau, and from it a good +view could be had of the fortress. The siege had lasted longer than +had been anticipated, and no one chafed more at the delay than the +subject of our sketch. His one desire was to be for ever rushing from +battlefield to battlefield. Rapid in action as in decision, he found the +time hang heavily on his hands. While the siege was in progress he had +been considering the possibility of engaging in some other enterprise +which might redound to the honour of his Emperor, and at the same time +add to his own glory. + +He pushed the maps away from him, rose from his chair, and taking +a large pinch of snuff, moved towards the window and stood a while +watching the operations of the siege. A knock at the door attracted his +attention. + +"Enter!" + +"The Governor of Freiburg awaits the pleasure of your Highness," said +the person who entered, evidently an officer of rank, who was, in fact, +an aide-de-camp to his Highness. + +"I am ready to see him," was the reply. + +His Highness took another heavy pinch of snuff. + +A tall, military looking man, somewhat over middle age, and of resolute +countenance, entered. He made a low bow and then drew himself erect. + +"Be seated," said his Highness, as he himself resumed his chair. The +Governor of Freiburg obeyed. + +"You bring news of Brissach, Governor?" + +"Yes, your Highness." + +"Your informant?" + +"My valet, your Highness. He has been a soldier, and possesses a +keen power of observation. He succeeded in getting into the Old Town +several times on the pretence of purchasing wines. The French are busy +strengthening the fortifications, but discipline is lax, and as there +are over twelve hundred labourers employed in the works there is +considerable disorder in the town." + +"Good. What is the strength of the garrison?" + +"Only four battalions, your Highness, and six independent companies." + +"Any Irish among them?" and his Highness again had recourse to his +snuff-box. + +"None, sir." + +"Sure?" + +"Certain, your Highness." + +"So much the better. Those fighting devils upset the best laid plans, as +I learned to my cost at Cremona. And pardieu, they can fight!" And +Prince Eugene of Savoy, for it was he, shook his head, causing some of +the snuff he was taking to fall down, and increase the stain on his +doublet. + +"But, let me see. Four battalions and six independent companies. What +time are the gates open in the morning?" + +"At daybreak, your Highness. Many of the labourers live outside the +town." + +Prince Eugene remained silent for a few moments. + +"Then," he said, as he rapped the lid of his snuff-box, "you should be +able to surprise Brissach Old Town. We may also make an attempt on the +New Town. You will command the expedition--" a slight flush of pleasure +exhibited itself on the Governors face--"I shall place at your disposal +4,000 picked men from the German and Swiss infantry, and 100 cavalry; +with that force you should be able to possess yourself of Old Brissach +and hold it." + +The Governor of Freiburg bowed as if in assent, but could not help +remembering that only the year before, King Louis of France had employed +40,000 men and 160 guns in the reduction of the two Brissachs. + +"You shall have under you," continued the Prince, dabbing at +the same time his nostrils with snuff, "some capable officers, +including the Lieutenant-Colonel of the Regiment of Bayreuth and the +Lieutenant-Colonel of the Regiment of Osnabruck, who shall be Governor +of the town." + +"He regards it as good as taken," thought the Governor, and he did not +feel too happy at the thought. There is so much chance in war. + +"These mornings lend themselves to such an enterprise," continued the +Prince, again resorting to the snuff-box, for it had become a habit with +him to punctuate, as it were, his sentences with a pinch of snuff. "The +fog lies low upon the river until some hours after sunrise." + +"He thinks of everything," said the Governor to himself. + +"And," added the Prince, "you will hear from me by to-morrow as to the +time for your attempt." + +The Governor of Freiburg accepted this as a dismissal, and saluting +Prince Eugene, passed from the room. + +The morning of the 10th of November was fixed for the attempt on the +town. That day had been selected because it had come to the ears of the +Governor of Freiburg, whom we know was to command the expedition, that +a large quantity of hay requiring many carts to convey it, was to be +brought into the magazine at Brissach. The hay was to be coming from a +considerable distance, and the carters in charge would travel all night, +and endeavour to arrive at the town as soon as, if not earlier than, the +gates would be opened. + +That this was their intention the Governor, who was well served by his +spies, had also learned. The opportunity was too good to be lost. Over +50 waggons had been requisitioned, and each would be attended by at +least two peasants. The entering of so many waggons into the town would +necessarily cause some distraction, and if it were possible, under the +cover of darkness, to follow close on them, the Germans and Swiss, might +hope to pour in after them without let or hindrance of any kind, as +discipline had become very much relaxed. + +When the day came, fortune proved even kinder than the Governor of +Freiburg had hoped. A thick, dark fog was over the river, and hung like +a pall over the two Brissachs, so that those in the new town, on the +French bank of the Rhine, could not see their neighbours on the German +bank, nor could their neighbours see them. And it was through this fog, +that what might be called the advance guard of the waggons made their +way into the town. + +It was then eight o'clock in the morning. The reveille had sounded long +before. The garrison were preparing for breakfast, and the labourers had +gone to work in the fortifications. There were, however, owing to the +thick fog, but few people about the streets, and the sentries at the +gate were watching, with no very keen interest, the lumbering hay +waggons passing in. + +Several of the peasants who had followed them, other than the drivers, +stood inside the gates in an aimless fashion as if their task had been +completed. + +Attracted by the rumble of the carts, the Overseer of the workmen on the +fortifications, a tall, brawny looking fellow, came towards the gate, +and seeing the group of idle peasants mistook them for some of his +labourers, and asked them why they were not at work. He received no +answer. He then addressed himself particularly to one who was a little +in advance of the others, and who had a keen eye and appeared to be a +man of intelligence. + +"Why are you not at work?" + +The man accosted, did not at once answer, and the Overseer had to step +back and make way for an incoming waggon. + +"Why are you not at work, I say?" he repeated angrily. + +Still no answer, and the Overseer thought he detected in the faces of +the other peasants something like a grin. His temper at the best was not +angelic, and this suspicion proved too much for him. + +"By G----, I'll teach you how to talk," and before the astonished +peasant could lift a hand to defend himself, down came the blackthorn +on his shoulders with a rapidity that showed that the Overseer was well +versed in the _argumentum baculinum_. Instead of answering, the peasant +rushed to the nearest hay waggon, and crying out some word in German, +thrust his hand into the hay, drew out a loaded musket, aimed at the +Overseer, fired point blank and missed. A blow of the blackthorn sent +the peasant down. In the meantime others of the peasants had crowded +round the Overseer, who, while with every blow he felled an assailant, +kept crying, "To arms, to arms!" + +But suddenly the hay was swept from the waggons, and from each a number +of armed men sprang out. The Overseer, unable to withstand so many foes, +having succeeded in getting round one of the carts, made a rush for the +sedge on the river. + +The enemy, in an excess of folly, fired at the sedge, and the bullets +whizzed through it, cutting it just above his head, but the report of +the muskets was heard through the town, and the whole garrison turned +out. A rush was made for the gate, inside of which there were now some +hundreds of the enemy. The Overseer, seeing the troops coming out, +quitted his retreat and joined them, and threw himself into the midst of +the desperate hand-to-hand conflict, in which both sides were at once +engaged. Many a stout German went down with a cracked skull before the +wielder of the blackthorn. At length, after a stubborn resistance, the +enemy were driven out and pursued some distance, the Governor of +Freiburg covering their retreat with the cavalry. They left behind +them nearly two hundred dead, including the Lieutenant-Colonel of the +regiment of Osanbruch and the Lieutenant-Colonel of the regiment of +Bayreuth, and several majors and captains. + + * * * * * + +Bad news travels fast, but the Governor of Freiburg determined that he +himself would be the bearer of it to the Prince. It was an unpleasant +task, but he thought it better that he should be the first to carry it, +so that rumour might have no time to make out a worse case against him +than his conduct of the affair warranted. + + * * * * * + +On the following day he found the Prince alone, as on the former +occasion, and in the same apartment. + +"You have taken Brissach?" said the Prince, with an eager glance. + +The Governor flushed. + +"After a stubborn fight we were driven out, your Highness." + +"You were inside the gate?" + +"Yes." + +"Details. Briefly!" And the Prince rapped the lid of his snuff-box +sharply. + +The Governor told what the reader has already learned. + +Several times during the brief narrative the Prince's thumb, dipped into +the box, and small showers of snuff fell on his doublet. + +"How many were inside the gate when the rascal with the stick came up?" + +"About forty, your Highness." + +"And they were unable to disarm him, or take him without firing and +raising the garrison?" + +The Governor did not reply. + +"Who was the idiot who fired the first shot?" + +"The Lieutenant-Colonel of the regiment of Bayreuth." + +The Prince looked hard at the Governor, who almost shrank before the +fierce gaze. + +"Where is he?" + +"Dead, your Highness. He fell fighting." + +"The fate was too good for him." + +The Prince made a gesture of dismissal. The Governor bowed, and was on +the point of withdrawing. + +"Stay," said the Prince. "Did you chance to hear the name of the prodigy +whose single blackthorn foiled the attempt made by four thousand of the +best troops in the Imperial service?" + +"He is called, your Highness, the Sieur O'Byrne." + +"O'Byrne! O'Byrne! an Irishman!" exclaimed the Prince. + +The Governor bowed. + +"But you told me there were no Irishmen in Brissach." + +"There was only one." + +"Only one!" The Prince arrested his thumb as he was lifting up a pinch +of snuff. He made a gesture of dismissal and the Governor retired. + +"Only one," the Prince repeated when he was alone. "If there had been a +hundred it is more than probable the Governor of Freiburg would never +have found his way back from Brissach." + +The Prince made up for his interrupted pinch, and dabbed at both +nostrils as he moved to the window. The cannonade, which had been going +on for some hours, had ceased, but a puff of smoke from the trenches, +followed by a report, showed that the firing was kept up in a desultory +fashion. The Prince's eyes rested for a second on the portrait of the +Emperor on his snuff-box. "The loss of Brissach," he said half aloud, +"was a severe blow to the Emperor. I had recovered it for him if it were +not for that infernal Irishman with his blackthorn. Pardieu, but it is +worse than Cremona!" And the Prince, of whom it has been written that +his "passion was for glory and his appetite for snuff," flicking up the +lid of the precious box, scooped up between finger and thumb what was +left, and as he sniffed the fragrant but strong powder, "I must get more +snuff," he said. + + + + +MAURYA NA GLEANNA. + +OR REVENGED AT LAST. + + +During the year of the '98 Centennial celebrations, it chanced that I +was staying on a short visit with a friend in the county of ----, whose +residence was not far from one of the battlefields of the rebellion. Our +talk turned one day upon '98, and I asked him if he knew if any stories +of the period were still current in the neighbourhood. He said he was +not himself familiar with any. He was not belonging to the county, and +had been residing in it only a few years. But he promised to find out if +any of the servants or workpeople could give me any information. That +evening he informed me there was an old man helping in the garden, +now almost past his work, who was at one time a schoolmaster, and had +originally come from the county of Antrim, and who had some stories of +the rising in the North. The next day I made the old man's acquaintance, +and from him took down the story of Maurya na Gleanna:-- + +"I wasn't more nor nine or ten years old when I first saw Maurya na +Gleanna, and although I'm over seventy years now I can see her face just +as if she was standing there foreninst me. She would have been very tall +if it were not for a stoop in her shoulders. Her face was rather long, +her cheeks shrunken and almost yellow. Her hair (and there was plenty +of it) was tied up in a wisp at the back of her head, and was gray +almost to whiteness, while her eyebrows were as dark as the night. Her +lips were full and might have once been red, but the colour had left +them and they looked dry and blanched. Her eyes were as black as a coal +with a red heart that would blaze up for a moment and then become dull. + +"She had come into the glen many years before. She had wandered into it +of a wild March morning--a Patrick's morning, too, it was--when the snow +lay deep in the glen, and you could hardly see a bit of green for miles +around. + +"The snow was in a drift against Jack M'Guinness's door when she knocked +at it just after the break of day. There was hardly one astir in the +house at the time, but when the knock was repeated the servant-man got +up and went to the door and opened it; before he could question the +woman he saw standing outside, she had stepped across the threshold. + +"Her hair was then, so they afterwards told me, as white as when I first +saw her, but there was some colour in her cheeks, nor had it left her +lips. A kerchief covered her head, and a shawl thrown over her shoulders +was fastened above her breast by a skewer that had been beaten into the +semblance of a pike, and which served to keep in its place a bunch of +shamrocks. Her head-dress and shoulders were thickly coated with snow, +which clung to her dress that stopped short at her ankles. Her feet were +bare. + +"The man said afterwards that the blaze of her eyes nearly blinded him, +and took the word out of his mouth. + +"She laid her left hand upon his shoulder, and touching the shamrock +with one of the fingers of her right hand, she whispered in a tone +suggestive of mystery: + +"'Is there green upon your cape?' + +"'Twas then a few years after the troubles, but the servant boy had been +one of the United men, and had fought at Ballinahinch. He knew the words +of the rebel song, but as he didn't reply at once, she whispered again: + +"'Is there green upon your cape?' + +"For answer he took her hand, while a strange feeling came over him that +she was something 'uncanny,' and he gave her the 'grip' that showed he +was a United man. She returned it. + +"'Who is there?' cried Jack M'Guinness, who came out of his room into +the kitchen, having heard the door open. + +"He started back a step when he saw the blazing eyes and tall figure +(for the stoop had not fallen on her then). + +"'Is there green upon your cape?' she asked him eagerly, almost +feverishly. + +"'Ah, my poor woman, the day is over I'm afeard,' he said softly, for, +with a keener perception than that of the servant boy, he saw the poor +creature was demented. + +"'Over! over!' she cried, almost hysterically, 'it will never be over +until he--he that you know--sure everybody knows him--until he, Red +Michil of the Lodge, comes to his own, his own, you know, the three +sticks, two standin' straight and one across. Red Michil, with the brand +of Cain and the curse of God on him. An' isn't this a purty posy?' and +she took the bunch of shamrocks from her breast and held it up to Jack +M'Guinness. + +"'A purty posy it is, my girl,' said he, falling in with her humour; +'but shake the snow from yourself and come near the fire. Blow up the +turf, Shane,' and he turned to the servant boy, 'and let the girl warm +herself.' + +"'Ay, sure enough, it's the purty posy,' the girl continued, 'but hadn't +I trouble enough finding it, with the snow here, there and everywhere, +every step I took goin' deeper than the rest; but I didn't mind the +snow, why should I? Sure his face was colder when I saw it last, and his +windin' sheet was as white.' + +"'Sit down, achorra, and the good woman will be up in a few minutes and +will give ye something to warm ye.' + +"'Ay, then! 'tis cowld ye think I am, and maybe I am cowld, too; an' I +gets tired sometimes; but there's a fire in my heart always--a fire +that'll niver go out--niver go out, I tell ye, until Michil of the +Lodge comes to his own.' And then the poor thing sat down by the hob, +and the boy blew up the turf till the blaze lighted the whole kitchen, +and the pewter on the dresser flashed back the ruddy rays. And when +the heat began to spread about the room, the head of the poor, tired +creature dropped on her breast and she fell into a deep sleep. + +"This was the first coming of Maurya to the Glen, and that's the way the +story was told to me. For, as I told you, it was before my time. She was +treated kindly by Jack M'Guinness and his wife, who took to the poor +girl, and would have kept her with her if she could, but Maurya couldn't +be induced to spend more than a few days in any place. + +"Who she was, or why she came to the glen, or where she came from nobody +in the glen knew. + +"The women said it was love trouble that drove the poor thing wandering, +and that her question about the green upon the cape showed that the +lover had fallen a victim on the scaffold, or in the field, in the +struggle in '98. + +"There wasn't a family in the glen that hadn't sent a man to +Ballinahinch, and not a few sent more than one, and there wasn't a +hearth in the glen where poor Maurya didn't find a welcome. + +"But she was always roaming. After a night's rest she went 'scouting,' +as she used to say, hoping to catch Red Michil to bring him to his +own--'the three sticks.' + +"And so in the first light of the morning she used to go out and ramble +over the hills, living any way she might, and coming back and seeking +hospitality--now in one house, now in another, in the glen. + +"'I didn't see any signs of him to-day,' she used to say, on entering +the house which she had come to for her night's lodging. 'I didn't see +any signs of him to-day, but, please God, I soon will. Red Michil won't +escape me, never fear.' + +"And this mode of life Maurya continued for years. The colour faded from +the cheeks and from the lips, and the tall form began to stoop, and they +noticed that she didn't ramble so far as she had been wont to do. She +had always been very gentle in her manner, but at times, and when she +seemed oblivious to everything passing round her, the flame would flash +from her eyes, and she would leave her seat by the fire, and despite +remonstrance, no matter what the weather or the hour, would start out on +her quest for Red Michil. Over and over again, some of her women friends +tried to get her story from her, not so much through curiosity as +through a belief that it might lighten the burden on her heart if she +would confide her sorrow to some one. + +"But they could get nothing from her but a denunciation of Red Michil of +the Lodge; but who he was, or what he had done, they could not find out +from her. + +"There was one house in the glen to which she came oftener than to any +other, and that was Shane O'Donnell's, an uncle of mine. I don't mind +saying it now (said the schoolmaster), but Shane had a little shanty +upon the hills, beyond the glen, where he carried on, in a small way, +the manufacture of the mountain dew. You'd hardly know the hut from the +heather. It was in a little dip on the side of a hill, just deep enough +for the walls, and until you were almost atop of it you could hardly +distinguish the roof from the heather, and no wonder, for it was +thatched with scraws, with the heather roots in them. The only thing +that betrayed its existence was the occasional smoke from the hole in +the roof that was the excuse for the absence of a chimney. Thither +Maurya na Gleanna often went, and there she was always welcome. Although +her wits were generally wandering, she was always able to lend a hand in +household matters, and in the cabin I've mentioned she used to boil the +potatoes and cabbage, and do other cooking what was necessary. + +"The hut itself was little more than an excuse. It covered the descent +into a cave, in which was carried on the manufacture of poteen, and this +was reached through an opening which was disclosed when the hearthstone +was lifted up. + +"The smoke from the operations below came up through an aperture close +to the hearthstone, and was carried off with that of the fire in the +hut, so that anyone who might drop into the hut would not suspect +anything. It was a shepherd's hut and nothing more. + +I was occasionally called on to assist in making the poteen, and at this +time Maurya na Gleanna had been regularly employed as cook, that is to +say, whenever the men were at work Maurya was sure to come there, and +boil the potatoes and make the stirabout, and sometimes, too, a bit of +mountain mutton found its way into the pot. + +Well, it happened one day Maurya was boiling a bit of mutton, and myself +was sitting near the fire, when Maurya said: + +"It was a quare dhrame I had last night, Shamey." + +"What was it, Maurya?" I asked, for all of us, young and old, used to +humour her. + +"Well, then," said she, "do you see them three legs to the pot that's +boilin' there before you?" + +"I do," said myself, "why wouldn't I?" + +"Well, then, Shamey, and mind you, I didn't tell this to anyone but +yourself, I dreamt last night them three legs to the pot were the three +sticks; and rayson that out for me if you can, for I can't. I think +sometimes my poor head is goin', Shamey." + +I knew what she meant by "the sticks," but, of course, I couldn't guess +the meaning of her dream. + +"I don't know, Maurya," said I. "I don't know what it means." + +"Ah, then, how could you, Shamey?" said she. "Sure you never supped +sorrow, and I hope you never will, avick, and 'tis only them that has +supped it year after year that could tell poor Maurya what she wants to +know." + +And she swung the crane from which the pot was hanging out from the +burning turf. + +"Do you see the three legs of it, Shamey?" she asked. + +"I do, Maurya," said I. + +"They are red now from the fire," said she. "And he was red--Red Michil, +you know--and I dreamt last night that they were the three sticks. But +dhrames are foolish, and there's no use minding them, Shamey. And how +could they be the three sticks? Sure, you couldn't hang a mouse on them, +could you, Shamey, let alone Red Michil?" + +Though I was used to Maurya, I was beginning to feel frightened, sitting +there alone with her, while as she spoke she became excited in a way +that I know would frighten me now as it did then. She hardly raised her +voice as she spoke, but you heard something--something that was like +ringing through it, and the veins on her arms, that were bare, began to +swell, and her eyes flared in a way that would almost burn the very soul +out of you. + +She swung the pot back over the blazing peat again, and examined its +contents, and I took my chance of stealing out of the hut. + +I had hardly got outside the door when I saw a number of soldiers making +straight for it. I darted back. + +"The soldiers are coming!" I cried down through the hole through which I +have mentioned the smoke from the still below used to escape. + +I shouted twice. Then I heard the words 'All right,' and I knew that the +men below would be able to manage their escape, and perhaps destroy all +evidence of their trade should the soldiers discover their retreat, +which to me at this time seemed a most unlikely thing. + +"The soldiers are comin', did ye say?" cried Maurya, when I had finished +speaking to the others. "Are ye sure, Shamey, 'tisn't the yeos?" And her +whole frame was quivering with excitement. + +"It's the soldiers, Maurya," said I, "and I think the gauger is with +them, and there is another man along with them, with a cast in his eye. +He is sandy complexioned, and has red hair that's getting grey." + +"Shamey," she cried, "Shamey!" and she caught me in her arms. "Look +at me. Am I tremblin' like a lafe? I think my dhrame is comin' true +somehow--but how, Shamey? how, tell me?" + +I was so frightened I couldn't reply, and before Maurya could say +another word, three or four soldiers entered the hut, and with them two +men in civilian dress. + +I drew into a corner. Maurya took no notice of them, and seemed to be +taken up with her cooking, her back turned to the intruders. + +"What have you brought us here for?" asked the officer who was in +command of the military, and who was one of the soldiers who had entered +the hut. + +"This man was my informant," replied the Excise officer, to whom the +question had been addressed. + +"That's not enough for me," rejoined the officer. "I hope we have not +come here on a wild goose chase. We have had too much of that sort of +sport lately," said he, somewhat bitterly. + +"Tell that woman to swing the pot from the fire, captain, yer honour," +said the man whom the gauger had described as his informant, and who was +the man with the cast in his eye and the sandy complexion. + +The captain requested Maurya to do so, but she took no notice. + +"Do it yourself," said the captain, addressing the informer. + +The latter approached the fire. As he did so, Maurya slunk back towards +the side wall of the big chimney, and in the same direction the informer +swung the crane, so that the pot came almost against her. + +The informer, without saying a word, kicked the peats from the +hearthstone, and I knew then that he was acquainted with our secret. The +hearthstone fitted very tight into its casing, and unless one had been +previously informed he could never suspect that it was removable. The +informer begged the help of the soldiers to lift it, and two of them at +different corners having with some difficulty inserted the points of +their bayonets succeeded in raising it, and the others coming to their +aid, it was quickly removed, and an open space, showing a ladder was +disclosed. + +"Go before us," said the officer, addressing the informer. + +"I didn't undertake to do that," said the wretch, trembling in every +limb. + +"We'll go, captain," said one of the soldiers, and, bayonet in hand, +he descended, followed by three of his comrades. Then the informer, +plucking up some courage, began to descend. Suddenly the noise of +shouting and the report of a musket shot was heard, and the informer, +white with fear, was climbing up again. + +"Go down and be d----d to you," cried the officer, "and make way for my +men!" + +"Oh, captain, darling, save me." + +They were the last words he ever spoke. The crane was flung back from +the wall right over the hole. As quick as thought the heavy pot was +loosened from it, and it fell with a sickening thud on the informer's +head. A squirt of blood struck the wall just beside my head. + +"Seize that woman," cried the astonished officer. + +"Shamey! Shamey!" shouted Maurya to me, her whole face as bright as if +all her sorrow had left her. "Shamey, my dhrame came true." + +I never saw Maurya na Gleanna again. I heard that they said (and sure +they were right, and they were wrong at the same time), that she didn't +know what she was doing, and they put her in an asylum somewhere. + +"But did you," said I, "ever find out who Red Michil was, and was he the +informer?" + +"I didn't then, till years after," said the old gardener, "and then I +learned it by accident like. Maurya na Gleanna, as we called her, was +one Mary M'Kenna, and at the time of the troubles, she was, everybody +said, one of the most beautiful girls in all Ulster. And it seems she +was in love with a boy called Pat Gallagher, who was one of the "United +Men," and he was in love with her, as many another man was also. And +sure amongst them was the one she called Red Michil, whose mother, who +was a widow woman, kept the lodge at the front gate of Pennington Hall +in the County of Antrim. And Red Michil pursued her, but 'twas the +back of her hand she gave him, and to take revenge on her and on Pat +Gallagher, who took her fancy, he informed on him, and made up a charge +against him, and Gallagher was tried by court-martial and hanged, +and the poor creature wouldn't leave until he was at the foot of the +gallows, and when she was taken away they saw that her mind was gone. + +Her relatives did their best to look after her, but they were poor, and +so she rambled off from them till she found her way to our glen. Red +Michil, when he had wreaked his vengeance, sank lower and lower. He +became a common informer, and then, when the hangings were all over, he +secured employment under the Revenue as a scenter-out of illicit stills, +and, as he had some experience of the trade himself, he was well up in +the expedients which the potheen makers were wont to adopt in order to +evade the agents of the law. He was thus an instrument in working out +his own fate, and after long, weary years, poor Maurya na Gleanna had +her revenge at last. + + + + +STORY OF THE RAVEN. + + +When I was a lad of about nineteen summers, proceeded Brother Mailcoba, +I happened to be on a visit to my uncle, who was a _Brughfer_, and whose +house was on the road leading from _Baile atha Cliath_ (Dublin) to Tara. +My uncle, who was a widower, had met with a serious accident, and he +was laid up in the house of the leech (physician) who lived about a +quarter of a mile away, and in his absence the duty of attending to the +travellers who might seek the hospitality of the _Brugh_ fell on me. + +The duty had been light enough for many days, for, though the great Fair +of Tara was close at hand, the weather was most unseasonable. The heavy +rains had beaten the ripening corn to the ground, and the road was +sodden, and it seemed at times as if all the winds had been let loose +and met in conflict, snapping in their struggle the leafy trees that +fell with a crash on hill and in valley, and their outstretched limbs, +cumbering the roads, made them almost impassable for man or beast. +During those days of rain and storm the sun never showed himself, and +the night came almost as quickly as in the wintertide, and men said that +the seasons had changed, and that ruin threatened the land. Yet no one +knew why it should be so, for the king was good and generous, and while +he maintained his own dignity, and insisted on his dues, his hand was +open as the doors of his hospitality, and to no man, simple or gentle, +was justice denied. + +Night after night, when the day was drawn into the mouth of darkness, I +kindled the light on the lawn to guide the wayfarers who might seek food +and shelter, but night after night passed over, and no one came. + +At length there was a day when the rain no longer fell, and the +winds, which had gone back to the hollows of the mountains, no longer +blustered. But sullen clouds covered the sky, and the night, as chill +as if the breath of winter was on it, crept early under them. I had lit +the light upon the lawn, and had come in and closed the door, and was +sitting facing the fire of pine logs that smouldered upon the hearth. +The servants of the _Brugh_ were in the outhouses attending to cattle, +or discharging other duties, and I was quite alone, for even the raven, +who was my usual companion, was out in the barn watching the milking +of the cows. I was thinking of going up to the house of the leech to +inquire for my uncle, when, suddenly, I heard the sound of chariot +wheels coming up the beaten road to the door of the _Brugh_. I had +hardly opened the door when I saw in the light cast from the "candle in +the candlestick" two horses covered with foam, and I distinguished in +the seat of the chariot two figures muffled up against the weather; but +I had no difficulty in recognising one as that of a lady. + +"The blessing of God be on you," said the man. + +"God and Mary be with you," I replied, "and _cead mile failte_." + +The servants had heard the chariot approaching, and were ready to take +the horses to the stable as the guests stepped from the car. The first +offices of hospitality having been discharged, and father and daughter, +for such they were, having refreshed themselves from the fatigues of +their journey, and partaken of the fare that had soon been set before +them, took their places by the fire. The man was rather old, and wore +the dress of a chief; he and his daughter were going to the great fair +at Tara to witness the games and contests. The maiden was the fairest I +had ever seen, her face as beautiful as a flower, and when she lifted, +as she did occasionally, her long, dark lashes from her eyes, they were +as stars shining in a dark pool in the woodland. + +"I fear, Brother Mailcoba," said the Abbot, "that thou wert over-given +to the vanities of this world at that time. The beauties you speak of +are transient, and perish." + +"So shall the stars perish, Father, that to the brief life of man seem +eternal; but, nevertheless, we may admire their lustre in the dusk of +the summer night, and then I was young, and all that was beautiful +seemed to me to be good." + +"Would it were so," said the Abbot, "but proceed with your story." + +We had not been long seated together, continued Brother Mailcoba, when I +heard a halting step coming towards the door, and as I turned my ear I +caught the twang of chords. + +"It is a harper who comes," said the lady in a sweet, low voice that was +almost timid. You will forgive me, Father, for saying that I thought her +voice was as musical as any harp ever sounded. + +"You were very young then, brother," replied the Abbot with a smile. +"And remembering your youth, we forgive you." + +We gave the harper his meed of greeting, continued Brother Mailcoba. He +was lame, and old, and seemingly weak of sight, but the lady laid on his +arm her hand, that was as soft and as white as a white cloud against a +blue sky---- + +"Brother, brother," put in the Abbot with a mild deprecatory gesture. + +And she brought him towards her, continued Brother Mailcoba, not heeding +the interruption, and made him take the seat beside hers. + +When I opened the door to admit the harper, the raven, who had finished +his self-imposed task in the cowhouse, hopped in and took up his perch +on the rafter, and eyed the company in the most critical manner. He +had only one eye, having lost the other in a scrimmage with one of +the cats, but this, instead of detracting from, rather added to, +the solemnity of his gaze. At the harper's heels, sniffing in the +friendliest way, came the house dog, Bran, who stretched himself before +the fire. + +The harper made only a very slight repast, and when it was finished +the lady begged him to soothe the night with song. He, nothing loth, +proceeded to comply, and, after coaxing the strings to follow him, began +to sing of the wooing of Lady Eimer by Cuchullin. But suddenly the old +man, the maiden's father, started like one aroused from sleep. + +"Have you no other song," he cried, "no song of battle, of burning, or +of voyages across the seas, that tell how heroes fight and fall? Sing of +Cuchullin when he stood alone against the hosts of Connaught in the +battle armour drest, or when he met Ferdiah at the ford, but waste not +your time and ours with the story of his love-sick fits." + +The harper paused, the maiden's lashes hid her eyes, and a blush like +that which follows the grey light of the dawn stole to her cheeks. The +harper was about to make reply when the raven, from the rafter, and +behind where we were sitting, croaked, "_Grob! grob!_" + +"A soldier is coming," said the old harper. + +I noticed that the maiden cast a furtive glance at the door, which I +hastened to open, expecting, of course, to see a soldier, for the raven +never lied. + +"But was not that a Druidic superstition, and unworthy of the credence +of a Christian?" queried the Abbot. + +"May be so, father," replied Brother Mailcoba, "but they say the ravens +are very knowledgeable birds, and in my boyhood I was taught to believe +in them, and so was the harper." + +"But you were deceived on this occasion," said the Abbot. + +"I thought so," said Brother Mailcoba, "when, as I opened the door a +monk entered with his robe and cowl, but still the raven croaked '_grob! +grob!_'" + +After the usual salutations the newcomer sat down to the table and he +ate like as one who had long fasted. I mention this only because it +seemed to justify the character in which he presented himself, but the +raven kept fidgeting on the rafter, and fixing his single eye on the new +guest, croaked "_grob! grob!_" in a fretful, almost angry voice. + +When his repast was finished, the monk took a seat on a bench near the +harper, but, so that he had a full view of the lady, although he was +partly concealed from her father. His cowl almost concealed his face, +but what was visible of it suggested youth and comeliness. It was +natural, perhaps, that he should excite the curiosity of the maiden, but +I must confess I was surprised to find her lashes lifting so frequently +and her eyes turning towards him, and once or twice I thought those of +the monk responded to the questioning glances of the maiden. + +"I fear thou wert uncharitable, Brother Mailcoba," said the Abbot. + +"Not so, father, as the event proved." By this time the maiden's father, +overcome by the weary journey and the hospitality, had fallen into +a slumber. The harper, too, who was hurt by the rebuff which he had +received, seemed rather somnolent, and he sat back against the couch +with eyes almost closed, but his fingers strayed across his harp as +if he were playing in his sleep, and the numbers stole out clearly if +faintly, and if the spirit of music ever come and move the hand of the +harper it must have led his across the strings that night. I know not +how the others felt, indeed, I forgot their existence for the time. I +was under a spell. It seemed to me as if my body was inert, and as if my +listening soul was borne on sounds that would not stay, but would steal +out like a bird from an opened cage seeking on happy wings the lustrous +woodland. Suddenly I was brought to myself by the snarl of the hound and +the hoarse voice of the raven croaking. + +"_Carna, carna! Grob, grob! Coin, coin!_" + +"There are wolves about," cried the harper, starting up. "Listen to the +raven."[1] + + [1] Our Celtic ancestors believed that the raven was gifted with + the power, among others, of describing the quality and character + of any person or animal approaching the house. If a soldier is + coming it cries "_grob, grob_"; if a layman, "_bacach, bacach_"; + if one in holy orders, "_gradh, gradh_!" etc; if wolves, as + above. + +The hound kept on snarling as the raven croaked, but he made no move +from the fire. I thought I heard a light, quick step on the path, but +the hounds around the sheepfold were baying so furiously that I was not +sure. However, I went to the door, and as I was about to open it, it was +struck rapidly as if by one in haste. When I had drawn it half back, a +tall, athletic looking man with a huge cloak wrapped about him almost +rushed in. He was scant of breath, as if he had been running, and I +noticed that his cloak was torn in several places. This he quickly cast +off, and darting a glance around him from restless and glittering eyes +took his seat. + +I noticed the harper eyeing him curiously, and I thought I saw the +maiden shrink. The monk, too, seemed more curious than was hospitable or +polite. I gave the stranger the usual welcome, but his response was +brief, and so was his salutation to the other guests, and their replies, +and indeed, during the time that I was busying myself in getting him +some refreshment, the silence of the _Brugh_ was broken only by the +croaking of the raven, "_Carna! carna! Coin! coin!_" and the +snarls and smothered yelp of Bran. I was quite puzzled by the raven. +First he announced a soldier instead of a cleric, and secondly, at +his call of "_wolves! wolves!_" which had no longer any meaning, for +if there were wolves abroad they must have been scared away by the +watchdogs, who ceased barking as I closed the door after admitting the +new guest. + +I had seen many a man eating in my time, but never saw I one who ate so +ravenously. I replenished his platter several times before his hunger +was satisfied, and indeed I was kept so busy that I had not time to pay +attention to the other guests. When at length I was able to do so I +noticed the old chief was still slumbering, and that the harper had +changed places with the monk, and the latter was sitting beside, or +rather close to the maiden, and indeed I thought I saw him drawing his +arm hastily away. + +"I fear, brother, your story is far from edifying," said the Abbot. + +"Well, maybe I was wrong," continued Brother Mailcoba, "and perhaps +it was the glow from the pine logs that caused the maiden's face to +look like a red rose. I think it was for the purpose of distracting +my attention that the harper began to play a low, sweet melody. I +recognised its first notes as those of the 'Song of Clumber.'" + +"Not that, not that!" suddenly exclaimed the last come guest fixing his +glittering eyes on the harper. The vehemence of the exclamation and +the harsh tones in which it was uttered caused general surprise. The +stranger noticing this appeared somewhat confused, and he endeavoured to +explain himself by saying--"It was too early yet for slumber, and that +for his part he preferred that sleep should come to him naturally than +that it should be brought by song." + +"It seems to me," quoth the harper, sadly, "that I can please no one to +night." + +"Say not so," said the maiden softly, "and perhaps now,"--and she +glanced at her sleeping parent--"you might sing us of Lady Eimer." + +The harper's face lighted up with pleasure, and soon under the skilful +fingers the harp gave out a witching strain, the accompaniment of his +song. When it ended the maiden slipped a gold brooch of exquisite +workmanship into his hand. Nor did he go without reward from the monk +and the stranger, as I must still call the last-comer. + +By this time the night was pretty far advanced, and as the travellers +had stated that it was their intention to start early in the morning, +I reminded them that their couches were ready. The last-comer took the +hint at once, and sought the couch that was nearest to the door. The +maiden and the monk seemed loth to go. The former pretended--for I fear +it was but a pretence--that she was unwilling to disturb her father, +but, after a while, the old man roused himself, and looked about him. + +"_Carna, carna! Coin, coin!_" croaked the raven from the rafters. + +"There must be wolves at hand," said the old chief. + +A long-drawn, low growl came from Bran, as if in response. + +"That can hardly be," I said, "for the watchdogs without are silent." + +"I never knew a raven to be wrong yet," replied the chief, "but let the +shepherds look to it. I had better lie down. We must start a little +after daybreak. I want to be at Tara early." + +The old man and his daughter retired, and if my eyes did not deceive +me, those of the maiden rested longer on the monk as she bade him +"good-night" than was altogether seemly. The harper, who was very old, +also betook himself to rest, and only the monk and myself remained +sitting by the fire. + +"It is not likely that any more travellers will come to-night," I said +to the monk, "so I think I had better look to the lawn light, and go to +bed, as I wish to be up to see the old chief and the maiden off." And I +added, "I suppose you will not start early?" + +"I have not quite made up my mind on that point," he replied, "but I +think I shall also retire, as it is not fair to keep you up any longer. +But let me go with you to the lawn; I should like to see what the night +is doing, and what is the promise of the morrow." + +Of course, I accepted his offer. We went on to the lawn together, and +when the light was supplied with fresh fuel, returned. As we were coming +towards the door, the monk remarked the chariot which had brought the +chief and his daughter, and that, although well constructed, it would +require a powerful horse to draw it. + +"There are two horses," I answered; "splendid animals, that could fly +away with it. Perhaps, I had better look at them, to see if they are +all right," and I went towards the stable. + +"They are, indeed, splendid animals," said the monk, who looked at them +with a critical eye, as he took the candle from my hand that he might +view them better, and he evinced an interest in, and a knowledge of, +horseflesh that surprised me not a little, seeing that he was a poor +monk, that was forced to make his journeys on foot. After bolting the +stable door we returned to the house, and shortly after the monk, who +refused to join me in a beaker of mead, although I urged he would sleep +all the better for it, went to his couch, and when I had finished my +beaker, I followed his example, and was soon fast asleep. + +I slept soundly, as was my wont, but at daybreak I was awakened by the +frantic yelping of the hounds, while the raven, flapping his wings in +wild shouts of excitement, croaked "_Grob grob! Carna, carna! Coin! +coin!_" I felt the cold air of the morning on my face, and the grey +light came through the open door. I leaped from my couch, and looked +about me. The harper was sound asleep, so also was the old chief, but +the couch which the maiden had occupied was vacant, as was that of the +monk, and the stranger was nowhere to be seen. + +I rushed out, the stable door was open, and the chariot had disappeared. +In the stable was a monk's robe and cowl. The hounds were still yelping +in the distance, but not frantically as at first, and I pushed on +towards them. I met them returning with bloody mouths, and in a few +seconds one of the shepherds followed with a huge coat, torn almost to +tatters, and stained with blood. It was the remains of the great coat +which the stranger had worn the night before! + +"And the stranger?" asked the Abbot. + +"The bloody mouths of the hounds supplied the answer, at least so said +the harper, when I related to him what had happened. The stranger was a +man wolf, who was allowed to assume human form by night, but had to take +that of the wolf by day.[2] He must have slept till daybreak, and not +being able to escape from the neighbourhood of the _Brugh_ in human +shape, fell a prey to the hounds." + + [2] This belief was common in the old days in Ireland, and wolf + stories still survive in the Celtic romances which have come + down to us. + +"And what of the monk?" queried the Abbot. + +"He was no more a monk than I was. When I related what had happened to +the old chief, he tore his hair, and declared that his daughter had been +carried off by a soldier with no more land or possession than would fit +on the edge of his sword. He had persistently wooed the maiden, but +had been rejected by the father, so that the story of Lady Eimer had a +special significance for her. The father threatened to have vengeance; +he would go to Tara and see the High King, and carry his complaints to +him. He begged for the loan of a chariot, which, of course, I supplied +him with, and he set off for Tara. A few days after the great fair +began, and I went to it. I hardly think that the chief carried out his +threat, or if he complained to the king the king must have induced him +to make the best of it, for as I was going round the course, on the day +of the chariot race, I saw seated in the Queen's pavilion, amongst the +ladies of the court, the maiden who had sought the hospitality of the +_Brugh_, but who was now the wife of a gallant soldier, and, I must +confess, that I shared her exultation when, in the last rush home, the +chariot that was guided by her soldier husband swept past the winning +post, amidst the thunderous plaudits of the multitude of the men of +Erinn. So you see, Father, the raven was right after all." + + + + +THE SPECTRES OF BARCELONA. + +(_From the Memoirs of an Officer of the Irish Brigade_). + + +I was little over twenty when, as one of "The Wild Geese," I entered, in +the year 1695, the infantry regiment of the Honourable Charles Dillon, +who was serving under the Marquis de Sylvestre, then conducting a +campaign against the Spaniards in Catalonia. I was travel-stained and +weary when towards the close of a May evening I arrived in camp, and, +having shown my credentials, I was directed to the quarters of the Irish +regiment, and very glad I was to receive the hospitality of the mess, +I need not say that they gave me _Cead mile failte_. Every recruit to +their ranks seemed to bring with him some of the atmosphere of the home +which so many of them were destined to see nevermore--the home which +often rose before them in a vision on battle eves, and to which they so +often returned in their dreams. After the first fervent welcome was +over, and after the many enquiries as to how affairs were in Ireland, +they began to recount the services of the regiment, and to sing the +praises of their gallant colonel. They spoke of battles and sieges of +which I had never heard, but in which they had participated, and in all +of which Colonel Dillon had taken a distinguished part. Many of them +bore on their persons evidences of fierce encounters, but they said +nothing in praise of themselves; 'twas all of the colonel, who was, they +said, as beloved by every man serving under him as he was esteemed by +the great generals of the army of King Louis. These enconiums naturally +heightened my desire to meet Colonel Dillon. + +I informed my new comrades that I was the younger son of a County Mayo +family, who were friends of the colonel's, and that I brought with me +letters of recommendation from his kinsmen, the Lallys of Tullenaghdaly. + +"You come well credited, young gentleman," said the senior sergeant, +whose name, I learned later, was O'Kelly, a man of forty or thereabouts, +whose right cheek was marked by a sabre slash, and whose left sleeve was +empty (I heard afterwards that he had lost his arm the previous year +at the capture of Palamos from the Spaniards), "and you are sure of a +hearty welcome from our colonel; but let me tell you, without offence, +that if you came with nothing but your sword you would be equally sure +of a cordial welcome, for our colonel esteems his men for their valour, +and not for birth or connections, and if I may say it, without boasting, +wherever he leads we follow, and will, boys, to the end. Here's to the +colonel!" + +Every man rose to his feet. There was a clinking of glasses, and a +cheer that nearly lifted the roof off the tent. + +I joined heartily in the toast, and made an indifferent attempt to take +part in the chorus of a song which followed, but my eyelids began to +feel very heavy, and, notwithstanding my efforts, were closing on my +eyes. + +This was noticed by my comrades, and one of them got up, and, putting +his arm around me as tenderly as if I were a child, said:-- + +"You're tired out, my lad. Come with me, you can't see the colonel +to-night; he is dining with the Marquis; but, to-morrow when you are +refreshed, I'll take you to his quarters." + +I bade my new friends a sleepy good-night, and remembered nothing till I +heard the _reveille_ sound the next morning. I started up to find myself +lying in a tent with a half-dozen others. For a moment I was a little +bewildered. I rubbed my eyes. The bugle had ceased, and I heard the +voices of the birds saluting the bright May morning. The curtain of the +tent had been withdrawn, and the bright light and the sweet air came in. + +"You can lie there as long as you like," said one of my comrades. +"There's no need for you to get up yet." + +But I was eager to be up and about. It was a glorious morning. The sun +shone from a cloudless sky, and the tents, stretching far, were flashing +in its light. Everywhere was stir and motion, and many salutations of +comrade to comrade resounded on all sides. + +I was delighted with the scene, the well-ordered tents with wide streets +between, the flags and bannerets fluttering in the brisk morning air, +the bustling soldiers, the neighing horses, the fanfare of the trumpets. +It was just the scene to captivate the heart of a youth. Here was all +the glorious pageantry of war untarnished, and that buoyant sense of +life that forbade all thoughts of disaster or defeat, and their woeful +consequences. + +"That tent yonder," said one of my comrades, who was drying his hair +after dipping his head in a bucket of water, "with the French standard +over it is the tent of the Lieutenant-General, the Marquis de Sylvestre, +and that to the right of it at the end of our lines is the colonel's. +The Marshal, the Duke de Noailles ought to be in command, but he is ill, +and the marquis takes his place." + +Just then Sergeant O'Kelly came up to me. + +"I am glad to see you looking so fresh, young gentleman," said he, "this +morning. We shall have breakfast soon, and after it you shall call on +the colonel. The marquis intends to inspect all the troops to-day, and +we must be early on parade. Hard work is expected in a day or two, and +as the colonel is likely to be very busy you had better see him as soon +as possible." + +About nine o'clock I presented myself at the colonel's tent, and +learned that he had just finished breakfast. + +I handed my letters to the guard, and requested him to send them to +the colonel. He called one of the colonel's servants and gave him the +letters. In a few seconds the servant returned, and ushered me into the +presence of his master. + +Young as I was I was surprised at his youth. He hardly looked his +twenty-five years, and he was one of the handsomest men I had ever seen. +He looked every inch a soldier--tall, well-knit and with an indefinable +suggestion of strength and activity in his shapely figure. I bowed as I +entered, and before I had well lifted up my head his hands were on my +shoulders. + +"You're welcome, my lad," said he in the cheeriest voice, "and you are +not a day older than I was when I joined, and you are from the old +country, too. Well, I wish 'twas in my power to do something for you +for your people's sake and for your own; but, you see, since the new +formation of the Irish army of King James in the French service many +Irish gentlemen who had served as officers at home in the Williamite +wars, have been reduced; some even to the rank of privates, and not a +few are in my regiment in that category, and it would be invidious of me +were I to put a youth like you above them; but, _courage mon camarade_, +there are stirring times before us, and Dillon's regiment is sure to be +found where the bullets fall thickest and where ranks are thinned, and +a gentleman is sure of promotion if he be put beyond caring for it." + +Here the colonel paused for a second, and looking full in my eyes, +added, "if he win his spurs." + +I confess I was a little disappointed. I had hoped that, backed up as I +was by my family connections and my letters of recommendation, I would +have obtained the post of ensign. The colonel doubtless noticed my +disappointment. + +"You were in camp last night?" he said. + +"Yes, colonel." + +"With whom did you stay?" + +"In Sergeant O'Kelly's tent," I replied. + +"Sergeant O'Kelly!" he exclaimed. "By right of service and of valour, +since he came to France, he should be captain. He was one in Ireland; +he has not grumbled at his reduction." + +I felt the rebuke. + +"I shall be glad to serve under him, colonel," I said. + +"Good, my lad. You will serve under a gallant Irish gentleman, and it +will not be his fault if he does not give yon a thousand chances of 'a +bed on the field of honour.' "Death or Victory" is the motto of the +regiment." + +An officer riding up to the tent announced that the lieutenant-general +was waiting for the colonel. + +"_Au revoir, mon camarade_," as he held out his hand to me, adding, with +a laugh, "perhaps you have not yet caught up this foreign lingo, which +would hardly pass current in the County Mayo. So _slan leat_." + +The colonel vaulted lightly into his saddle, and many an admiring eye +followed him as he rode with tossing plumes towards the tent of the +Lieutenant-General, the Marquis de Sylvestre. + +I returned to that of Sergeant O'Kelly. + +"Well, young gentleman, you saw the colonel, and what did he say to you +and what do you think of him." + +"I think he is worth fighting with," I replied, "and worth dying with, +and he said--well he said that in serving under you I should serve under +a gallant Irish gentleman who would give me every chance of death or +glory." + +The sergeant drew himself up. + +"My faith, lad, the colonel himself will give it you, but I am proud to +have you with me." + +For the next week we were kept very busy. The colonel was a strict +disciplinarian, and his men were exercised for several hours every day. +I quickly picked up a fair knowledge of my duties, and it was with +a certain self-confidence I heard the news that we were ordered to +revictual Ostalric which had been captured from the Spaniards a year or +two previously. The task was easily accomplished, as the enemy retired +on our approach, but when returning towards the evening, our regiment, +which formed the rearguard, was suddenly attacked by over three thousand +_miquelets_ or _guerillas_. They seemed to have sprung out of the +ground, and charged us with the utmost fury; but our men, facing round, +were as steady as a rock against which the wave dashes impotently. Some +of the guerillas impaled themselves on our bayonets, and a well-directed +volley threw their front ranks into confusion. + +Our colonel, who had been riding in front, dashed round and put himself +at our head. + +"Charge, boys!" and quick as the flash of his sword in the sun, he was +in the midst of the enemy. + +We followed him with a ringing cheer. I was half beside myself with +excitement. The rattle of the musketry and the smell of powder were +intoxicating. Suddenly I was blinded. A warm spurt that I knew +instinctively was the blood of a wounded comrade hit me in the eyes. I +put up my hand; then I felt a sharp pang, and remember nothing more of +the combat. + +I learned afterwards that it lasted only a few minutes. The _miquelets_ +were driven off, leaving many dead and wounded on the field, and they +vanished almost as quickly as they had appeared. + +We had only two killed and three or four wounded, of which I was one. I +was hit in the breast. + +When I came to myself I was in hospital, and learned that the colonel +had been frequent in his inquiries, as had also O'Kelly, who had +distinguished himself in the repulse of the enemy. + +My wound was rather serious; however, I expected to be up and about in +a few months. But in this I was disappointed, for when it was nearly +healed, owing to my headstrong ways, as I insisted on leaving my bed too +soon, it broke out afresh, so it came to pass that I missed several +engagements, notably the raising of the siege of Palamos by the Duke of +Vendome, in which our regiment took part, defeating the combined Spanish +and English forces, and the subsequent defeat of the Spanish cavalry +under the Prince of Hesse Darmstadt, who had fought at the Boyne. Like +every other Irishman I would have given one of my eyes for a blow at the +English enemy; but the day was to come. + +Well, well; all this was a good many years ago. I was a stripling then. +I am an old man now; but I am not writing a history of my life, and, +indeed, I began this story not intending to speak much of myself, but +only to relate a curious incident which made a very deep impression +on me that time has not yet wholly effaced, but old men are apt to be +garrulous, and old soldiers like to talk of the + + "Battles, fortunes and sieges through which they have passed." + +While I was lying ill of my wound outside Ostalric, I was attended by +one of the men of Dillon's regiment who also had been wounded, though +slightly, in the affair, and who I learned afterwards had begged +permission to attend me as a special favour. He was as tender to me as +a woman could have been, but he was curiously reserved, seldom speaking +except when spoken to, and there was a sad look in his eyes which +scarcely left them even when he smiled, which he rarely did, provoked by +some sally of mine. He was a brave man they told me afterwards--they who +themselves were brave--fought like a devil, they said, and was never +wounded except in that affair of Ostalric, and that was when trying to +save me, who was nearly trampled to death when I fell. + +Well, in time I recovered my full health and strength, and rejoined my +regiment along with my kind attendant, whose name, by the way, was Ryan, +from the borders of Limerick and Tipperary, and I was in time to take +part in the reduction of Barcelona in the year 1697. + +It was one of the most difficult tasks of the French commander, the Duke +of Vendome. The fortifications were so strong as to be deemed almost +impregnable, and were defended by at least two hundred and forty pieces +of artillery. The garrison consisted of eleven thousand regular troops +and four thousand militia, and there was also one thousand five hundred +cavalry, and it was well supplied with munitions of war. A complete +investment was impracticable owing to the compass of the walls and the +outlying very strong fortress of Monjuich, situated on a lofty hill, +commanding the town and port and a large extent of the plain. Moreover, +the Count de Velasco lay encamped about six miles outside the town with +a force mustering, all told, about twenty thousand men, mostly composed, +it is true, of irregulars and guerillas. The French troops did not +amount to quite thirty thousand men, including the marines landed from +the fleet. + +We approached the town on the 13th of July, Vendome having the day +before surprised and routed the Count de Velasco, and on our approach +the Spaniards abandoned the Convent of the Capuchins, which was some +distance from the walls, and the Duke of Vendome ordered our regiment to +occupy it, and that night I found myself for the first time in my life +in a convent cell, having Ryan as my comrade. + +The cell was small, and bore evidence not very agreeable of its recent +occupation by the Spanish soldiery, but Ryan, who persisted in treating +me as if he were my servant, soon set to work, cleaned it out, and +brought in some hay and made comfortable beds for himself and me in +opposite corners of the cell. It was quite bare of furniture of any +kind, but this we did not miss, as we were to use it only for sleeping +quarters. + +We turned in about half-past ten, and I was soon sound asleep. I was +awakened by a shout from Ryan: + +"Did you see it? Did you see it?" + +"See what?" I answered bewildered. + +The moon was shining in through the window and the cell was half in +light and half in shadow. The moonlight fell on Ryan's share of it. +I saw that he was sitting up and that his usually dark face was very +pale, and there was a wild gleam in his eyes. + +"What was it?" I repeated. + +"Oh nothing! What a fool I am. I had a horrible nightmare. I am sorry +for disturbing you." + +"Well, you did startle me, I confess," said I. He lay down again, and I +did likewise, and slept without interruption until morning. I thought no +more of the incident of the previous night, although I could not help +noticing that my companion's face looked rather haggard. + +Our second night in the cell passed, for me, very quietly, and Ryan said +nothing to suggest that it was otherwise with him. The third night the +incident of the first night was repeated. Ryan started up, shouting: + +"Did you see it? Did you see it?" + +I jumped from my bed and struck a light. The cell was, of course, empty, +the door fast closed. + +"I am afraid you are ill, comrade," said I, and as I went towards him I +could see the perspiration in large beads on his forehead, and he was +trembling like a scared child. + +"Yes, yes, I must be getting ill, I suppose--but you saw nothing?" he +added eagerly. + +"Of course I saw nothing," I replied. "What was there to see?" + +"And--and you saw nothing on the wall there?" He pointed his hand +towards one of the walls of the cell. + +"Nothing. Wake up, man. You are still dreaming." + +He shuddered like one feeling a sudden chill, and then he said: + +"It's very foolish of me, and I'm sorry to be such a trouble to you." + +"Oh, that is nothing," I said. "You had better see the doctor in the +morning." + +The next day there was no time to see the doctor. We were early under +arms, and marched several miles in the direction of Llobregat on a +reconnoitring expedition. The day was very warm, and a good part of the +way was rough, and when we returned to our quarters in the evening, I, +for one, was pretty well tired out, and Ryan confessed to me that he +was also; but I suspected that a hardened soldier such as he, was not +fatigued by the march, and that want of rest and the disturbance of the +previous nights were what had done him up. + +"I expect to sleep well to-night," he said, as we extinguished our +lights. + +"And I also," said I. + +But we were to be disappointed. Towards midnight a terrific thunderstorm +burst over the town and our camp, and the rain came down in torrents. +Nevertheless our battalions in the trenches, which had been opened +the night before, were pushing on their work. The enemy suspecting +this turned on them the fire of forty pieces of cannon, which, +notwithstanding the tempest, were very well served, and gave the quietus +to not a few of our men. The booming of the guns and the peals of +thunder made sleep impossible. Suddenly a vivid flash of lightning +illumined the cell. + +"My God! my God! Do you see him now?" cried Ryan in a tone of agony. + +I was spellbound. I couldn't answer. + +There, standing between Ryan and me, was the figure of a Capuchin +monk in his brown habit and cowl, and holding up in his hand a plain +unfigured cross that in the lightning gleamed like fire. I saw the +figure only for a second or two. It retreated towards the door and +vanished. + +"Look at the wall, look at the wall!" cried Ryan, hoarsely. + +I looked, and on the wall appeared a cross, also without a figure, but +this too disappeared in a second. + +The roar of the tempest still continued, and the booming of the guns. +Sleep now was out of the question. I got up and dressed myself. Ryan, +who appeared unable to speak or move, lay back in his bed, his eyes +closed. I roused him up. + +"Tell me, did you see him, did you see him?" he whispered, clutching +convulsively my arm. + +"Let us get up and go down to the guard room," I said. "The day is +breaking, and we are not likely to sleep any more, and you are ill." + +Ryan dressed himself, and we went down, he more dead than alive, to the +guard room. His illness was manifest to all, and he was quickly restored +by portion of the contents of a brandy flask which seemed to work +wonders with him. + +We did not sleep in the cell again, and the weather being very warm we +were not sorry when sometime after we were ordered to the outlying posts +of the left wing of our army. + +Before we quitted the convent I paid a visit, in the daytime, to the +cell. There was nothing about it to suggest a ghostly visitant; but, on +looking at one of the end walls, I noticed the faint sign of a cross. I +was considerably startled by it, but on closer examination, I discovered +it was such a mark as anything placed against a wall for a long time +generally leaves, less through its own action as to that of the +atmosphere, on the uncovered portion of the walls. But it did seem a +little strange that it should be on the very part of the wall on which +I had seen the vision of a cross. Perhaps, I said to myself, Ryan +had noticed this mark, and it worked in some way on his disordered +imagination. But this could not explain the vision as seen by myself, +either of the cross or of the Capuchin, and it was with a feeling +akin to awe that I left the cell for the last time, wondering whether +anything would ever occur which might throw a light on the mystery. + +Ryan, who shared the bivouac with me, had begged me not to mention to +anyone what he fancied (as he put it) he had seen, for I had not told +him that I had seen anything, and, after my promise to this effect, he +never alluded to the matter; but I noticed that, henceforth, he became, +even for him, unusually reserved, and that there was a deep seated +trouble in his eyes; but he continued to be attentive, more attentive, +if possible, to me than before. + +For some weeks we lay close to the outposts, chafing under the +inactivity to which we were condemned. Meanwhile, the trenches were +being pushed forward, and, at intervals, we saw the flash and heard the +roar of the cannon from the ramparts; but this after a time ceased to +have much interest for us. Occasionally there were rumours of an attempt +about to be made by the enemy to revictual Barcelona, where provisions +had run low; but they came to nothing, and they no longer served to +rouse any hope of a brush with the Spaniards. + +At last, however, the scouts brought us the news that nearly the whole +of the enemy's cavalry were moving from the side of Llobregat, covering +a large convoy, which they hoped to be able under the protection of +the guns of Fort Monjuich, to take safely into the town. The Duke at +once despatched a large body of troops to intercept the convoy, but, +unfortunately, as we thought, we were not of the number, and expected +another idle day at our posts. But our troops had hardly moved out +against the enemy when from a mountain in the rear of the posts a large +body of Spanish infantry swept down like a torrent, while from around +its base appeared several hundred cavalry. Their object, of course, was +to effect a diversion. They could not have hoped for a surprise; still, +I confess, they came on so suddenly and so swiftly, that we had but just +time to be ready to receive them. + +We repelled their first fierce onset. They came on again and again, but +under the steady fire of our men, aided by the fire from the French +regiment under Colonel Solre, they at last gave way and broke, the +cavalry galloping off down the valley and the infantry climbing the hill +like goats, but with our colonel at our head we climbed up after them, +pausing only to fire and bring them down in dozens. Foremost in the +ascent was Ryan. With difficulty I kept within view of him, and when at +length I reached the top of the mountain with several others, I found +him lying thoroughly exhausted, and in his eyes was the wild look which +I had noticed on the occasion of the apparitions. His musket was some +paces from him. + +Fortunately close to where he was lying was a mountain spring of +perfectly cool, clear water. I filled my shako with it, and put it +to his lips. The draught revived him and I sat down beside him, glad +enough of the rest. Ryan continued silent and so did I, gazing down +on the magnificent panorama that lay stretched before me--the wide, +far-reaching plains, the camp and the beleaguered town all framed in the +blue gleaming waters of the Mediterranean. Away in the distance to the +far right a cloud of dust and smoke and an incessant rattle of musketry +betrayed the whereabouts of the conflict between our troops and the +Spanish cavalry. On the mountain the firing had ceased, except for +a stray shot. The escaped Spaniards had fled precipitately down its +opposite side. Our colonel ordered the recall to be sounded, and with +the light hearts of victors we stepped down the mountain to our posts, +counting on our way some hundreds of killed of the enemy. + +The attack on the convoy was successful. The Spanish cavalry were put to +flight, though not until after a sturdy resistance, and the convoy fell +into our hands. This decided the fate of the siege, for the next day +negotiations for the surrender of Barcelona were opened up, and on that +very day the Marshal the Duke de Vendome rode down to our posts and +publicly thanked Colonel Dillon and the Irish regiment for their +services and complimented them on their matchless valour, and, indeed, +to the last day of his life the gallant Duke never missed saying a good +word for the soldiers of the Irish Brigade, and he insisted that no one +had better opportunities of knowing what they could do in the face of an +enemy. + +For several days Ryan continued very silent and was almost morose, +but on the day before that on which the enemy were to march out from +Barcelona he found me as I was lying by a small stream at the base of +the mountain up which we had chased the Spaniards, and enjoying what to +me then was a novel luxury--a pipe. + +"Would you mind coming up a bit of the mountain," said he to me gravely, +"I want to speak to you." + +The request seemed strange as the nearest soldiers were several yards +away from where we were, but I rose and followed him. When we had +ascended about thirty or forty yards he sat down under a bush and I +beside him. I waited for him to speak. + +"I saw him again," he said, "when I came up here the other day. I had +just reached the spot where you found me. I aimed, as I thought, at the +back of a flying Spanish trooper. He whom I took for the trooper turned +round. It was he." + +"Who?" I asked, although I anticipated the answer. + +"The Capuchin!" and Ryan trembled as he said the word. + +"I cannot bear it any longer. I must confess at last. God grant I have +not done you irreparable wrong." + +"Me!" + +"You! You are one of the Browns of the County Mayo; the youngest son of +that Captain Brown, who, when he was not much older than you, fought +against Cromwell and lost his patrimony, but who afterwards, having been +an exile with Charles II. regained it, though not till several years +after the Restoration." + +"And what do you know of him or his family?" I asked curiously. + +"Not much more than I have told you," he replied, to my surprise, +"except that your father went abroad again, and died not long after you +were born." + +"That is so," I said. + +"Your mother had not received a communication from him for some time +prior to his death." + +"But how do you know that?" + +"Let me go on," he replied, "I shall be the sooner finished. He died in +Madrid, and he sent home papers and valuables through a Spanish Capuchin +monk, who was visiting Ireland on a mission, which, I understood, was +part political and part religious." + +"From whom did you learn this?" + +"From himself." + +"The monk?" + +"Yes. He was riding by where I lived on a lonely, bare spot, that you +may chance to have heard of, Knockcreggan. The night was bad, dark, and +wild; the road couldn't be worse. It was like the bed of a torrent, huge +stones and boulders everywhere. Just opposite the door of my cabin the +horse stumbled and fell. I heard a cry, and went out and found the +prostrate monk bleeding badly from a wound over his temple. I brought +him in, put him down on a truss of straw, and bandaged him as well as I +could. + +"After a while, for he was at first unconscious, he spoke faintly, and +asked for 'more light.' I made a blazing fire of turf, and lit a couple +of candles--all I had. + +"'I know I am dying,' he said, 'are you a Catholic?' I told him I was. + +"'I am a monk,' he said 'a Spanish Capuchin monk. I want you to swear +on this cross that you will do what I ask you; it being only an act of +charity,' and he held up the cross which had been hidden in the breast +of his riding coat. + +"It blazed, my God! as I saw it blaze in the cell the night of the +storm," and Ryan shuddered, although we were then in the full light of +the evening, and the bustling camp below us. "I took the oath on the +cross," Ryan went on to say, "to carry to the captain's widow--your +mother--two parcels, one of papers, which the monk told me, while of +the greatest importance to your family were of no use to strangers; and +another containing some gold and valuable jewels. + +"'You will be well paid for your trouble, I know,' the monk said to me; +'but promise me again on the cross that you will deliver both these +parcels safe and sound, and will not touch coin or jewel. If you do, I +warn you, you will be struck dead when you least expect it, and by an +invisible and supernatural hand. But tell no one of your mission.' + +"The monk died that night. I sent for the neighbours, and we waked him +and buried him, and I thought of setting out for your mother's house, +but the weather grew worse and worse, and the roads were impassable. +'Twas unlucky for me. I meant well, and intended to do what I promised, +but the temptation came to me to look at the purse, and when I saw the +gold and the jewels shining, the temptation came to me to keep 'em--who +would be the wiser, and I was poor? I was living alone there on the side +of the Knock, and here was a fortune in my hands. Well, the temptation +grew stronger, and I yielded. I kept the money, and went to Dublin and +spent it, and I sold the jewels, and when the money got for them was +nearly all gone, the troubles broke out and the Viscount raised the +regiment for the young colonel, and I joined it. And 'tis many and +many's the time I've looked death in the face since, and he passed me +by. And when I saw you I thought I'd try and make up for my crime some +little bit, and that I'd guard and give my life for you." + +I was so amazed at the story that I did not speak for a moment or two +after he had concluded. + +"Will you forgive me, for God's sake?" + +"The papers," I said. "What about the papers?" + +"I have them here," he said, "here!" And with his bayonet point he +ripped open the lining of his coat and produced a bundle of papers in a +leathern wrapper. "I never opened them. I could not read. I don't know +what is in them. I thought they might be of use some day, and that I +could give them up to the rightful owner, as I am doing now." + +I took the papers like one in a dream. I rose without another word, and +went down the mountain. I sought out a sequestered spot where I was sure +to be uninterrupted, opened the package and read. Well, it boots nothing +to anyone now to know what was in them. There were family secrets which, +if revealed at the time, would have changed the current of many lives, +including my own; but it could serve nothing but a selfish purpose of my +own were I to reveal them now; so having read the papers, and dropped a +tear over the handwriting of him who was my father, I tore the papers +into bits, set them alight, and waited until every vestige was consumed. + +Ryan avoided me for the next few days, but if I had any resentment +against him it died out. I might still have taken advantage of the +information given by the papers, but deliberately decided not to do so. +As for the money and the trinkets--well, they were gone, and Ryan had +suffered terribly, was still suffering, had risked his life and shed his +blood at Ostalric to save mine. + +We did not meet again until we entered Barcelona, the enemy having +marched out. That night it chanced that both he and I were ordered for +duty on the ramparts as sentries. Before our time came I went to him, +and holding out my hand, said, "Ryan, I forgive you with all my heart, +and forget." + +"But _he_ won't," he replied with a slight tremor. + +"Nonsense," I said, "you have confessed your wrong-doing, and all is +over. You shall never see him again." + +The clock of the cathedral had sounded midnight. The officers went their +rounds, and I from my station was looking down on the port and out +over the Mediterranean, scarcely stirring beneath the stars. The clock +sounded one. All was quiet. Two o'clock struck. Suddenly I heard fierce +voices of challenge given in Spanish. I was on the alert, but could see +nothing. The voices appeared to be in the air, and to come close to the +ramparts. I shook myself to see if I were wide awake, but the voices +continued. Then I heard the sentries challenging "Qui vive?" one after +another. I too challenged. A musket shot rang through the night. The cry +to arms was raised, and the ramparts were quickly crowded with officers +and men. In the east the day was breaking. Its full light was soon +on the ramparts. Men looked curiously at each other. The sentries +questioned, all repeated the same story. They heard the voices, as they +thought, of Spanish soldiers, and had replied by challenging. + +Who fired the shot? + +There was not much need to ask. Ryan was lying dead close to one of the +batteries. His musket, which had been exploded, lay beside him. Even in +death his face wore the scared look of a man who had seen a dreadful +vision. I shuddered as I looked at him, and thought of the threat of +the Capuchin of the "invisible and supernatural hand." I kept my own +counsel. I myself never heard anything after that night, but others did, +or thought so, and this fact is attested by Captain Drake, of Drakerath, +in the county of Meath, who was of our regiment, and one of the coolest +and bravest officers of the brigade, and who has set forth in his +memoirs that he, while on night duty on the ramparts, thought he saw +and heard the Spectre of Barcelona. + + + + +THE BLACK DOG. + + +"Did you ever see a ghost, Tim?" + +"No, then; I don't mane to say I ever see a ghost, nor I don't mane to +say that I didn't nayther; but maybe I see more than any of ye ever +saw in your born days," said old Tim Kerrigan, as he stooped over the +hearth, and, picking up a sod of turf, put the fire to his dhudeen. + +His listeners were a group of light-hearted youngsters (of whom I was +one), who turned in to old Tim's one Christmas Eve a good many years +ago, and who, seated round the fire, were trying to coax him to tell +them some of his supernatural experiences, which, if Tim were to be +relied on, were as numerous as they were varied. Tim, at the time, was +an old man of about five-and-seventy, still hardy and supple; but his +brown face--"brown as the ribbed sea-sand"--was full of wrinkles. Over +these wrinkles he appeared to us, youngsters, to have wonderful power. +He had a trick of pursing, and withdrawing, and inflating his lips +before answering any question put to him, with the result that the +wrinkles appeared to close in and to open out after the manner of the +bellows of a concertina, and when, at the same time, he contracted his +forehead, and brought his shaggy, grey eyebrows down over his bright, +little, brown eyes, they peered out from under them in such a way as to +bear a curious resemblance to those of a rabbit peeping out under the +edge of his burrow. + +"Troth and maybe I did," repeated Tim, "see more nor any of ye ever saw, +and maybe more than wud be good for any of ye to see, ayther." + +"Oh, we don't doubt you, Tim," said I, putting in a word to mollify him; +"But that was a long time ago, for none of _them_ things are going about +now." + +"Ar'n't they!" said Tim. "How mighty clever some people thinks they +are." And he took three or four strong whiffs of his dhudeen and sent +a blue cloud of pungent smoke through the room. + +"Did ye ever hear of the black dog?" said he. + +"No," said we in chorus. + +"No; and I suppose none of ye would believe in it?" + +"Oh, indeed, Tim, we'd believe anything you'd tell us." + +"Well, I know ye are all dacent boys," said Tim, "an', seein' the night +that it is, I don't mind tellin' ye, but I hope that none of ye will +meet the likes of it. And, be the same token, 'twas a Christmas Eve, +too, it happened, before any of ye was born. I was only a gorsoon myself +then, but I remember it as if 'twas only last night. Ould Hegarty lived +up in the big house on the hill with the grove around it. 'Tis little +better nor a ruin now, with the jackdaws nesting in the chimneys and +the swallows buildin' in the drawin'-room, where the quality used to be. +Ould Hegarty, when I first saw him, was a fine, splendid-lookin' man, as +straight as a pikestaff. He had a free hand and an open house to them +that he thought was good enough for him, but he was as hard as flint to +the poor. There was a poor widow that lived in a cabin where the railway +is now, bad luck to it, and she had an only son, a poor angashore of a +fellow that didn't rightly know what he was doin', and one fine day me +bould Hegarty caught him stealin' a few turnips for his ould mother, an' +nothin' wud do Hegarty but to put the law agin' him, and the poor boy +was transported, and sure the luck was that he wasn't hanged, bekase +they'd hang you then for stealin' a tinpenny bit. And sure the night the +assizes was over myself seen the poor lone widow up at ould Hegarty's +doorstep, an' she cursin' him, and, says she, 'May the black dog follow +ye night and day till the hour of yer death,' and she was down on her +two knees, and her poor grey hairs was streamin' in the wind. And out +kem Hegarty with his ridin' whip in his hand, and he lashed her wud it +until the welts on her shoulders wor as thick as yer fingers. 'Do yer +worst, Hegarty,' sez she, 'but the curse of the widow and the orphan is +on ye, and the black dog will follow ye to your dyin' day,' and the poor +crather got up and she staggered away, an' sure before a fortnight was +over they buried her in the churchyard beyant. He murdhered her, as +sure as ye're sittin' there, but there was no one to take the law agin +him; an', sure, if there was 'twud be no use, for the likes of him could +do what they liked in them times wud the poor people. But, for all that, +they say he hadn't an easy day nor night from that out, and in daylight +or dark he always thought he saw a black dog following him. He wouldn't +sleep by himself if he got the world full of goold, and he always had +his servant-man--one, Jim Cassidy--to sleep wud him. An', sure, Jim +himself tould me that Hegarty wud often start up out of his sleep and +cry out, 'Cassidy, Cassidy, Cassidy, turn out the dog!' But Cassidy let +on to me that he never seed the dog, though he used to make believe as +if he wor huntin' him out of the room, but he said whenever he did that +he used to hear a dog howlin' outside for all the world like a banshee." + +"Well, this went on for a year or two, and me bould Hegarty that used to +have a face, from eatin' and dhrinkin', as red as a turkey-cock's gills, +grew as white an' as thin as a first coat of whitewash, and he'd never +go home in the night, after playin' cards up at the club-house, without +havin' one or two friends along with him, and he used to keep them +playin' and dhrinkin' in his own house till cock-crow, and then he used +to get a bit easy in his mind, and Cassidy tould me he could get a few +hours' sleep." + +"But one night as myself was comin' home late from buryin' of ould +Michil Gallagher, that was drowned on a rough night down near the bar, +when the hooker struck again' the Pollock Rock, who should I come up +with but Hegarty, and a couple of other spree-boys along with him. A +wild night it was, too, wud the moon, that was only half full, tearin' +every now and thin through the clouds that was as black as my hat, and +sure 'twas they wor laughin' and shoutin', as if the dhrink wor in 'em, +and, faix, maybe myself had a dhrop in, too, but sure that's neither +here nor there. Well, myself followed on, keepin' at a civil distance, +as was the best of me play, an' it wasn't long till they wor passin' the +churchyard, where the poor ould widow was buried, an' just then the moon +tore out through a cloud, an' may I sup sorrow to my dyin' day, if I +didn't see a black dog comin' boundin' over the gate of the churchyard, +an' every leg on him as big as my arm, an' his two eyes blazin' in his +head like two live coals. Well, faix, meself felt all at once as if a +lump of ice was slidderin' down the small of me back, till I was almost +as cowld as a corpse, God save the mark; but for all that I kept +follyin' on, an' didn't I see the black naygur of a dog sniff in' and +sniffin' at Hegarty's heels. I don't rightly know whether Hegarty +noticed him or no, but he began shoutin' louder than ever, and the divel +take me, Lord forgive me for cursin', if I ever heard such swearin' in +my life as he was going' on wud, and the play-boys that were wud him +wor nearly as bad as himself. Well, as soon as he got to his house, an' +they all went inside, may I never draw another breath if I didn't see +the black dog vanishin' in a flame of blue fire that nearly blinded me +eyes like a flash of lightnin'; and when I kem to myself again, what +should I see on the doorstep but the ould widow herself--and sure as she +was dead and buried over a year before, it must have been her ghost I +saw--an' she down on her two knees, an' she cursin' away as meself seed +her the night ould Hegarty horsewhipped the poor crather. Well, of +coorse, meself didn't meddle or make wud her, and I hurried home as fast +as I could, an' I never tould what I seen to man or mortal. + +"Well, the next day the talk was all over the place that Hegarty was in +a ragin' fever, an' the best of doctors wor brought down from Dublin to +try an' cure him, but 'twas worse an' worse he was gettin', an' at last +he got so bad that they had to tie him down, an' Cassidy had to watch +him night an' day, an' the poor boy was nearly worn out like an ould +shoe, an' he asked me to come an' help him. + +"I didn't like the job, at all; but Cassidy was an ould friend of mine, +an' we wor naybour's childre, so by dint of persuasion he got meself to +consint, an' sure 'twas the hard time we had between us. Every minute +Hegarty used to start up and cry out: + +"'Hunt him away! Hunt him away; his nails are in my throat! His eyes are +scorchin' me! I'm burnin'! I'm burnin'!' + +"The Lord save us, but 'twas awful to listen to him. + +"'Hunt him out! Cassidy, hunt him out, or I'll horsewhip you as I +horsewhipped the widow, an' 'tis her curse is on me, the ould hag. Hunt +him out!' + +"And we had to pretend we wor huntin' him out, an' daylight or dark we +used to hear a long howl outside that wud make your flesh creep. + +"Well, begob, we wor almost wasted to a thread watchin' him, an' we +could hardly get a wink of sleep; but one night the two of us were +dozin' by the side of the bed when all of a sudden we heard glass +crashin', an' before we had time to rub our eyes wud our fists what +should we see but the black dog who had burst in through the window, an' +he in gores of blood an' his eyes blazin' like wildfire, and before we +could stir a foot he was up on the bed an' he tarin' the throat out of +ould Hegarty. + +"'The Lord between us an' all harm!' says Cassidy, an' he caught up the +poker an' he hot the dog a belt that ought to have broken every rib in +his body. 'Ye divil get out of that,' says he, an' I gave him another +thwack, an', wud a screech that would waken the dead an' that made every +hair of our heads stand up like bristles, the black dog jumped out +through the windy, an' he tuk the whole sash along wud him, an' ye'd +take yer oath for a minnit that the whole house was on fire, an' there +was a smell of brimstone that would knock ye down. An' when we kem to +ourselves an' looked at ould Hegarty, there he was stiff and stark, an' +the blue mark of the dog's teeth across his windpipe. We called up the +house an' sent for the docthors, an' they kem, an' they said 'twas +somethin' or the other was the matter wud him that killed him; but +Cassidy an' meself knew betther nor they, but we kept our tongues quiet, +for what was the good of talkin' agin them docthors? Well, we waked him, +though sorrow the wan kem to the wake barrin' the playboys who kem to +have a look at him, an' he was buried up in the churchyard, and not far +from the poor widow ayther, an' when ye are goin' home to-night take my +advice and go round by the hill-road, and don't pass by the churchyard, +though 'tis your shortest way home, for as sure as ye do ye might meet +wud the black dog who is always about on Christmas Eve, for that was +when ould Hegarty bet the poor widow wud his horsewhip, and maybe if the +dog met any one of yees he'd do to ye what he did to ould Hegarty." + +Perhaps we didn't believe Tim's story, but whether or no we all went by +the hill road, and though many a year is past and gone since Tim told +the story there is not one who heard it, who for love or money would +pass by that churchyard on a Christmas Eve, and it might after all be no +harm if those who read the story as I tell it now, and who dwell in the +place that knows old Tim no more, should take his advice as we did, and +follow the hill road. It is longer than the road by the churchyard, but +there is an old saying that the longest way round is the shortest way +home. + + + + +THE GHOST OF GARROID JARLA. + + +In fulfilment of a promise of many years standing, I went to pay a visit +to an old schoolfellow in the Christmas of the year 185--, and who then +resided within a few miles of the hill called Knock Cord Na Gur, in the +Queen's County. He was a retired naval surgeon, named Lynam, to whom a +substantial residence and farm had been left by an uncle whom he had +never seen, and who had been a bachelor, as was my friend, the doctor. +It was a lonely place for him to settle down in, but he had been for +over twenty years roving in his ship all over the world, and he was +tired of voyages, and he found, or professed to find, this comparatively +lonely spot an agreeable retreat. Besides his housekeeper, his only +servant was one Terry Brennan, who was at once coachman, gardener, +valet, and butler. The farm was pasture, and this the doctor let on +easy terms to the neighbouring tenants, and as he was ever ready on an +emergency to give his medical services, he was very popular for miles +round. He loved a book, a pipe, and could brew a glass of punch which +would "satisfy an admiral," as he was wont to boast, for this appeared +to him to be the highest proof of its efficacy and quality; but, +although he had read much, and travelled far and wide, he was as +superstitious as the most unlettered sailor, and firmly believed in +spiritual visitants, and had many a strange story of what he himself +had seen of the dead returning. + +He met me at the station with an ordinary outside car, which he was +driving, having left Terry at home to have everything ready on our +arrival. + +We had some miles to go. Night had already fallen a few hours before, +and the sky above was as black as ink. We made our way, driving +cautiously, all right, until, after going for about an hour, a bend in +the road brought us in view of a light, not more than half-a-mile ahead. + +"That is the house," said the doctor. "We'll be there in five minutes." + +The announcement was very welcome to me, as I was cold and very hungry, +and I was about to make some reply, when my companion suddenly +exclaimed:-- + +"By ----, there is the light on the Knock." + +And I saw a second light higher up than the first, and at some distance +to the right of it, but it vanished in a second. + +The doctor's tone was startling. + +"What is it?" I queried. + +"Quiet, pet; quiet, Molly; easy, girl." The doctor was speaking to the +mare and did not answer my question. "Hold on to the car. By heaven, +we're over!" + +I felt the car was being overturned. I was flung out on to the side of +the road, and as I was recovering myself I heard the mare, who had in +some way broken from the harness, clattering down the hill. + +I had fallen on the grassy margin near the ditch and escaped unhurt. The +car tumbled into it without touching me. + +"Are you hurt?" said the doctor, who was by my side as I was lifting +myself up. + +"No," I replied, "and you?" + +"All right," he said, but I detected a tremor in his voice. + +"Are you sure?" I asked. + +"Oh, yes! Come, let us get on--away from here." + +I was on my feet. "What is it, Lynam?" + +"Do not ask. Come!" and the doctor caught my arm and hurried me along. +I saw he was labouring under some great emotion and forebore to speak. +We reached the gate leading up to the house. It was open, and in two +minutes we were at the hall door. That, too, was open, and on the steps +stood a man holding a lamp out from above his shoulder, and who seemed +framed by the doorway. It was Terry. + +"Doctor, darlint, did you see him?" + +"Where's the mare?" + +"She's in the yard, doctor. She has not a scratch on her, but there's a +lather on her all over." + +"Go and rub her down, put her up, and come back as soon as you can." + +The doctor's tone had become calm again. + +The excitement caused by this incident had made me forget the hunger +and the cold, but when I entered the doctor's cosy room with its bright +log fire glowing in the hearth and inhaled my first breath of the warm +temperature I shuddered, and the doctor, noticing my discomfiture, +uncorked a bottle of champagne and poured out a tumblerful. I observed +that his hand shook as he presented it to me, and also that he appeared +strangely put about. + +I tossed off the wine and then accompanied the doctor to my room, and +made myself ready for dinner. + +When I came down again to the dining-room the doctor was standing with +his back to the fire, looking still, as I thought, a little distrait. + +But he brightened up at once, and saying: "I'm sure you must be hungry +after your long journey," he rang the bell for dinner. + +It was brought in by the housekeeper in response to the summons, and +shortly after Terry appeared dressed in the orthodox waiter fashion. + +Our talk during dinner was chiefly about old times and old +acquaintances. The wine, which was excellent, was done full justice +to by both of us, and by the time dinner was over we were in the best +possible humour with ourselves and all the world. + +Then when the cloth had been removed, and Terry brought in the +"materials," the doctor set himself to brew two stiff tumblers of punch. +This task accomplished, we lit our pipes, and as often happens with +smokers, we relapsed for a while into silence. + +We were rudely interrupted by Terry, who pushed in the door without +knocking, and who cried out excitedly: + +"Doctor! doctor! you're wanted. Michael Cassidy's cart is overturned at +the trough below, God save us from all harm, although the horse was only +walking, and he's lying under it, and his boy, who was along with him, +has come up for you." + +"Get the lamp at once, Terry, and Jack," said the doctor, addressing me, +"on with your coat, I may need your help." + +In a few seconds, preceded by Terry with the lamp, and accompanied by +Cassidy's boy, we were hurrying down to the scene of the accident. + +We found the cart upset in the middle of the road, and lying across the +body of poor Cassidy. + +Terry set down the lamp, and the four of us lifted up the cart and +turned it over into the ditch, close to where our car was lying. The +doctor examined the prostrate man, Terry holding the light for him. + +"Dead!" cried the doctor. "Dead! My God, it's awful." + +The blood in my veins became icy cold. I felt I was not only in the +presence of death, but in the presence of a mystery still more weird if +that were possible. + +"What is it, Lynam?" I whispered hoarsely. + +"That is the rattle of a cart coming along, Terry?" said the doctor, not +heeding my question. + +"It is, doctor." + +"Show them the light." + +Terry held out the light in the direction of the approaching cart. It +belonged to one of the neighbours. When the cart came up to where we +were standing around the corpse it halted. A few words were sufficient +to explain what had happened, and the owner of the cart agreeing we +lifted the corpse on to the cart and it was taken home. + +The doctor, Terry and I returned towards the house. Not a word was +spoken by any of us until we were within a few yards of the hall door. + +"Look, doctor, look!" cried Terry, "the light is on the Knock again!" + +I turned round and looked towards the Knock, which rose to the left +about a quarter of a mile from the house. I saw a blue flame that +quivered for a moment like a flame in the wind, and then went out. + +"Let us go in," said the doctor, "he has got his victim to-night." + +We entered the hall and I turned into the doctor's room followed by him. +I felt like one in a dream. But the room was bright and cheerful, and +the logs were blazing merrily on the hearth. I flung myself into a +chair. The doctor had closed the door, and was standing near me. + +"I am sorry, Jack," he said, in a serious tone, "that your visit has +begun so unpropitiously, but let us forget what has occurred and make a +pleasant night of it," and he pulled a chair close to mine and sat down. + +He lit a pipe. I followed his example, and we puffed away for a while in +silence, but my curiosity got the better of me. + +"Look here, Lynam, old man," I said. "There is some mystery about this +business of to-night. Our car was upset, as far as I know without any +cause, and it was the same in the case of Cassidy's cart. What is it all +about, and what did you mean by talking of 'a victim?'" + +"It is a mystery," he began, "but you saw the light on the Knock +to-night?" + +"Yes." + +"And that is very strange. The only two about here who have seen it--at +least in our time--are Terry and myself. I saw it first on Christmas Eve +ten years ago--the first Christmas Eve after my coming. I have seen it +on three Christmas Eves since, and each time I saw it a man has been +found dead where we found Cassidy to-night." + +The doctor spoke in low, measured tones, and a creepy feeling came over +me as I listened. + +"But what connection can there be between the light and the dead man on +the road?" I asked. + +"It is a curious story," he replied. "It was told to me by Terry. I +doubted it at first, but my own eyes bore witness before to-night to the +truth of part, at least of it. But I had better begin by telling you +what Terry told me. It seems that in the old times--three hundred years +ago or thereabouts--there was on the Knock-Cord-Na-Gur a strong castle, +in which dwelt one of the offshoots of the Fitzgeralds, who was known +as Garroid Jarla, or Garrett the Earl. He was a man of unrestrained +passions, who knew no law save his own will. He was practised in every +kind of devilry, and was dominated by a lust for blood and gold. Murder +was his chief delight. He was surrounded by a band of villains as +unscrupulous and as bloodthirsty as himself. His name was a name of +terror for miles around, and many a blackened rafter and blood stained +hearth bore witness to his infamous cruelties. Yet, for all that, he +could be seemingly courteous, and could easily deceive an unsuspecting +stranger into the belief that he was of a friendly and hospitable +disposition. + +"And it was his wont, especially at Christmas time, to intercept +travellers who happened to be passing along the road which we have just +left, and, after a courteous inquiry as to their destination, to bid +them stay the night with him at his castle. Invariably he stationed +himself on the spot where the drinking trough is, of which you heard +Terry speak, and which, perhaps, you may have noticed when he held the +lamp as I was seeing to poor Cassidy." + +"I saw something like a stone trough," I said, "but did not take +particular notice of it." + +"That was the trough," continued the doctor. "It was not there at the +time I am speaking of. It was placed there long after the so-called earl +had gone to his account. The times were troublous times, and many a +belated traveller was glad of the invitation to spend the night at the +castle on the hill. Poor and rich were welcome there. The poor traveller +set out the next day with the pleasant recollection of a hospitable +night, carrying everywhere he went a good word for his host, Garroid +Jarla, but for the traveller who had money about him, his night in the +castle was his last. He was never seen or heard of again. But when the +earl was killed, and the castle sacked, the only record of his treachery +was a heap of bones and decaying corpses in a cellar under the +diningroom, the only entrance to which was a trap door, over which the +unsuspecting victim sat while he was enjoying the earl's hospitality. + +"Garroid Jarla had many enemies, but not one whom he hated more than +Rory O'Moore, who then dwelt in the Castle of Cluin Kyle, and who, at +the head of the Rapparees, was carrying fire and sword into the English +territories. There was a price then on the head of Rory, fifteen +thousand pounds of our money now, and many a plot and plan was framed +and laid to entrap the dauntless Irish captain. Garroid Jarla determined +at any cost to secure the blood money, and tried, again and again, to +entice one of Rory's followers, by the offer of a large bribe, to betray +his master, but without success. Still he persisted, and, at last, he +gained, or thought he had, one over to his interests. The renegade +persuaded Garroid that he was desirous of avenging a grievous personal +wrong he had suffered at the hands of Rory, and that he was willing to +give his life to accomplish his destruction. + +"Garroid's hunger for gold induced him to believe that with it he could +purchase a man's soul, and, therefore, he gave ready credence to Rory's +retainer, whose name was Teague O'Moore, and Teague humoured Garroid to +the top of his bent, and denounced Rory in all the moods and tenses. One +night he came to Garroid, and told him that his chance of overcoming his +enemy, Rory, had arrived. Rory, he said, had come to Cluin-Kyle, after +some desperate and successful fighting, and was holding high revel in +the castle. There was no watch kept, as Rory felt perfectly secure for +that night at least, and, therefore, he might easily be surprised about +midnight, and Teague undertook that he would see that the castle gates +were unlocked, and as for signal he would place a lighted candle in the +postern window. + +"Garroid eagerly embraced the proposal, and decided to attempt the +surprise of Rory's castle, and, calling his retainers around him, he +made a feast, believing that men fought better if their stomachs were +not too empty, and that as there was stern and bloody work before them, +they would be all the better prepared for it if they imbibed some +draughts of _usquebaugh_. Teague remained until the party seated at +supper had begun to enjoy themselves, and then having taken care to see +that the window of the room opposite which Garroid was seated was not +curtained, he took his leave to go, as Garroid thought, to Cluin-Kyle; +but Teague, having passed out of the castle, entered the wood that +skirted the ford of Dysartgalen. He had not gone far through the fallen +leaves that strewed his path when he was challenged. + +"'God and Our Lady and Rory O'Moore,' was his reply. + +"'All right, pass on.' + +"'Is the captain here?' said Teague. + +"'Here,' answered a stalwart Rapparee. + +"'I want your best marksman, captain.' + +"'Come hither, Shan Dhu,' said the captain. + +"A man stepped forward with musket on shoulder. + +"'Follow me,' said Teague, 'and you captain and your men keep close to +our heels. When you hear the shot rush straight for the castle. If the +bullet does its work the castle is yours.' + +"Teague and the marksman went ahead. They passed unnoticed within the +outer walls, and advanced close to the uncurtained window. + +"'That candle that you see,' said Teague to the marksman, 'is in a line +with Garroid Jarla. Snuff it and you kill him.' + +"The marksman took a cautious aim. + +"'Bang!' A crash of glass, a fierce yell. + +"'Oh, Captain!' cried Teague, with a wild shout, that made the night +tremble. The Rapparees burst in on the startled revellers. But, as the +latter had their weapons ready to hand, a desperate conflict ensued, and +it is said that, until the last of his followers was slain, Garroid +Jarla remained sitting where he had been shot, and that his face was +black as coal, while his eyes gleamed like fire. The Rapparees sacked +the castle before they left for Cluin-Kyle with the news of the tyrant's +death. + +"The next day the peasantry entered the ruined castle, and, finding the +body of their arch-enemy, Garroid Jarla, they dragged it to the Ford of +Dysartgallen, and, having cut it in quarters, they flung them into the +river, and believed they had got rid, once and for all, of the ruthless +tyrant of their homes. + +"But in this, according to Terry's story," said the doctor, "they were +mistaken. For, time after time, Garroid Jarla appeared at the very +spot where he used to meet travellers during his life, and whomever he +accosted never saw the morning break again. + +"At last a friar coming this way heard of the apparitions and their +fatal results, and he bade the people bring a stone trough, and place +it on the spot, and this trough was fed with water from a running +stream, and the friar blessed the water, so that no evil spirit could +come near it. And after this, for generations, no one ever saw the ghost +of Garroid Jarla. But in the dark days of Ninety-eight, a band of Yeos, +coming along the road, broke the trough, and turned away the stream from +it, and ever since then it is dry, and of no service to man or beast, +and ever since then at irregular intervals, but always on Christmas Eve, +the ghost reappears and claims a victim, and when he appears a light +burns on the Knock. And that is Terry's story," said the doctor, and he +shook the ashes from his pipe. + +"Have you ever seen the ghost?" I asked. + +"I have seen the light on the Knock," he replied, "and I have seen the +dead men. You saw the light on the Knock to-night; you also have seen a +dead man. Do you doubt," said he, looking me straight in the face, "that +he is one of Garroid Jarla's victims?" + +"Perhaps, after all, doctor," said I, "there are more things in heaven +and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy." + +"It is getting late," said the doctor, "and I am sure you must be +tired." + +I was tired, and yet when I turned in I could not sleep. On that night +and many a night since I was haunted by the ghost of Garroid Jarla. + + + + +TRUE TO DEATH. + + +"Death!" The speaker was a tall, sinewy, athletic man, from twenty-eight +to thirty years of age. The single word came from his lips short and +sharp as a pistol shot. He looked around upon his auditors, who watched +his hard-set features in silence. A group of a dozen peasants stood +before him, the youngest not more than twenty, the oldest a man of sixty +years, above the average height, thin, cadaverous looking, with hollow, +sunken eyes, black as night, that contrasted strangely with the +prominent, grey, bushy eyebrows. Deep lines, traced by suffering and +bitter thought, furrowed his ample brow, and long, lank, white hair came +down almost to his shoulders. His eyes rested upon the speaker, whose +face became blanched under the terrible and earnest gaze that was +fastened upon him. Though dressed in peasant garb, it was easy to +see that the young man's life was not always spent in the peaceful +occupation of the peasantry; a scar on his right cheek told a story of +conflict, while the deep bronze that stained his face was suggestive of +travel in other lands. Born on the southern coast, his earlier years +were spent in the precarious pursuit of fishing, and just as he crossed +the threshold of manhood, an adventurous spirit prompted him to join +some of his comrades who sailed with a French captain bound from the +Shannon for Brest. He pursued the sea-faring life for a year or two, +when, falling in at one of the French ports with a detachment of the +Irish Brigade, then battling under the _Fleur-de-lis_, he took service +in it, and fought in several engagements, until a bullet in the breast +incapacitated him for the duties of a soldier's life. Returning to +Ireland, he found the peasantry engaged in the great agrarian struggle +which produced the "Whiteboys." His military and adventurous spirit, as +well as his sympathy with his class, invested the conspiracy with a +peculiar attraction for him. He became a member of it, and before many +months had passed was the leader of the organisation in his district. +His superior ability, and his power of swift and keen judgment, +commanded the respect and confidence of his followers. On many a night +before this on which our story opens, the terrible sentence of death had +fallen from his lips, but never before had his comrades observed the +deathlike pallor that was in his face to-night. The scene was a weird +one. A long, low-roofed cave, of irregular shape, not more than twelve +feet at the widest, and narrowing towards the aperture, which was scarce +large enough to allow of one man at a time crouching on his hands and +knees; a small opening in the roof, through which a hand might be +thrust, allowed the escape of the smoke from the pine logs, blazing in +the further end of the cave. As the flame leaped up and down, a thousand +shadows and flickering lights danced on roof, and floor, and walls, +flitting fantastically, bringing into occasional prominence, the +features of the group. As the speaker uttered the single word, a log, +displaced by the action of the fire, blazed fiercely, and threw its +light upon his face. In the searching light every lineament was clearly +portrayed, and the twitching of his mouth, and the white look that +chased the bronze from his cheek, became plainly visible to the eyes of +his followers. + +"It is well," said the old man. "When shall we meet again?" + +The question was addressed to the leader. All eyes were fastened on him +as he said with unusual slowness: + +"This night fortnight." + +"Too long," cried the old man, with a fierce cry that had a hard +metallic ring in it as it struck against the walls of the cave. + +"Too long," murmured the others. + +The leader looked around, scanning the faces of each one closely. + +"Too long," repeated the old man, in deeper tones. + +"Well, this night week, be it," said the leader. + +"Agreed," came the response. + +And one by one the party left the cave, save the old man and the leader. +The old man moved to the aperture, peered out, and waited until the +last of his comrades had disappeared. He then turned back, and, standing +with folded arms before his companion, said to him: + +"We chose you to be our leader because we knew you were brave, and we +believed you to be true; you have never failed us up to this." + +"Then why do you doubt me now?" + +"Because," said the old man gravely, "there was a white look in your +face to-night, which was the sign of either fear or treachery; you +are too brave for fear; then what did it mean? You have decreed swift +doom to the petty tyrants; why did you seek to-night to postpone the +execution of the arch tyrant? You know the wrong he has done our +people--ay, the nameless outrages which he has inflicted upon their +honour, yet you sought to gain for him the long day, for him who would +string us up at short shrift. What does it mean?" And the old man's +tones became fiercer. "Is it true what they whisper of you, that the +nut-brown hair and the bright eyes and the red mouth of his daughter +have caught you in the net, and that your arm is no longer free, and +that your heart is unmanned? Look at me! I am old, and worn, and +withered. I was once young like you. I knew what it was to love, and +the sweetest maid that ever stepped down the mountain side, bright and +sparkling as a streamlet in the sun, was the girl of my heart. Forty +years ago the green carpet was laid over her in the old churchyard, and +a week after there was a bullet in the heart of him who was the father +of the man you want to save. Ah! You cannot know, God grant you may +never know what forty years of sorrow and bitterness are to the heart +of man. Yet you would save him, who follows in the footsteps of his +father--him who, as I have told you, has done us nameless wrong. Beware! +I am old and you are young; you are strong and I am weak, but I can +strike a traitor yet." + +As the old man spoke these last words, he had drawn himself up to his +full height, his right arm was lifted, and the clenched fist drove +the nails into the palm of his hand. Suddenly it fell to his side, +and turning from his companion he sought the opening of the cave and +disappeared in the night. The leader stood alone. The light from the +pine logs began slowly to die out, shadows clothed the walls of the cave +and advanced along the floor, and save a small pool of red light below +and a faint flickering glow on the roof above, everything was in +darkness. Still the leader remained with his arms crossed, motionless; +various thoughts disturbed his heart, thoughts of the old days when he +was a fisher lad; thoughts of the bivouac and the battle, of the stories +of the camp fire, of the long yearning in foreign fields for his own old +island home, of the oppression of the people, of the loyalty of his +followers, of their faith in him, of the brave work he had hoped to do +for them, and then of the sweet face of the girl that he knew never +could be his, but for whose sake he would have plucked his eyes out and +gone through a thousand deaths. He knew the old man had spoken truly; he +knew that her father was one of the bitterest and most hated of the +oppressors of his people, and yet he had to confess to himself that for +her sake he had sought to gain for him the long day. The last flickering +embers were almost dead. Suddenly he became aware of the darkness +around, and with an effort, bracing himself up, he sought to chase the +harassing thoughts away from him and left the cave. + +The cave was by the sea-shore; it was far up on the cliffs, its entrance +was concealed by a projecting rock, and was known to very few. A rugged +ascent scarcely safe to even the most practised feet, and dangerous to +any but a man of the firmest nerves, led up to it from the beach. When +the leader stepped through the outlet the strong sea breeze restored him +to himself. He descended cautiously until he reached the strand. To the +right lay his home. For a moment he turned in that direction, but only +for a moment, and then he went the opposite way. After walking for a +quarter of an hour he again ascended the cliff, and reaching the table +land advanced with quick steps until he found the road. Having gone +three or four hundred yards, a light piercing far through the darkness +from the window of a square building, that looked half fortress and half +mansion, caught his eyes. There was a wild stir in his heart, and the +blood rushed fiercely through his veins. He walked like one fascinated. +He knew not what he thought; he only felt that if with every forward +step death should grip him by the throat he should still go on. At last +he stood almost close enough to the lighted windows to touch them with +his hand. He looked into the room which was on the ground floor. +Pictures and books and embroidery were there; a bright fire sparkled on +the hearth, candles fixed against the walls made the room almost as +light as day. There was no one visible. Just as he was about to turn +away in despair the door opened and a radiant girl entered. She advanced +towards the fireplace, shuddered a little as if cold, and stretched her +soft white hands over the blaze, and the ruddy glow stained the white +lilies on her cheeks. Something like a sob stuck in his throat, and +when a moment after her father entered the room, and the Whiteboy chief +remembered the sentence in the cave, with a moan, like that of a dumb +animal in pain, he staggered helplessly away and sought his home. + +The morning broke cold and grey, but soon the level lights of the winter +sun came into the room where he had spent a sleepless night. He rose +from his bed, and dressing himself opened the little window and looked +out upon the sea. The chill breeze of the morning, odorous with the +brine of the ocean, filled the room. Hours passed and he still watched +the glancing billows keen and cold, and thought of the Shannon river and +his voyage to Brest and the escape that was open to him, and he sank +into himself and thought and thought. Then looking out again he saw on +the strand below, moving along with pain, the old man of the cave, and +his heart was divided, and once more he remembered the oppressions of +his people. + +"They trust me," he said, "and what am I to her? What am I to her?" he +cried out passionately, "she does not know of my existence. I am one of +the crowd that her father treats even worse than dogs, and whom she, +with all her graciousness, scarcely deigns to recognise. Ay! there you +go, old man, with your load of sorrow, greater than mine; and yet 'tis +hard, 'tis hard to think of it, that I should be the one to pronounce +his doom." + +Wearily he closed the window and left the room and went down by the sea, +and watched its ebbing and its flowing with sinking heart. The following +night found him equally restless. How the week passed he did not know, +but the night came when he was to meet his followers again in the cave. +A week before he was a man of thirty years, looking resolute and brave +save for the white look that momentarily came into his face as he +pronounced the terrible sentence; to-night he looked old and haggard, +and the ruddy light from the blazing logs served only to make his face +look ghastly. The doom had been decreed. To-night was to decide who was +to carry it into execution. Hitherto the executioner had been selected +by lot. To-night it was proposed the same course should be followed. All +appeared to agree, when the old man lifted his voice and said: + +"We have chosen this man as our leader; we have been faithful to him in +carrying out his orders; we have placed our necks within the gallows +noose; some of us have stepped up the gallows stair and died without +betraying him, when by betraying him they could have saved their lives. +The time has come when he should prove his fidelity to us by taking this +deed upon himself." + +When the old man had ceased speaking there was perfect silence. In the +uncertain light it was impossible to discern clearly the features of the +leader. But he spoke no word. An indistinct muttering from the followers +scarcely broke the silence. Then a stout strapping fellow stepped to the +front and said: + +"No! I believe in our leader. Up to this it has always been decided by +lot. It fell to me twice. I wished it fell to someone else; but when it +fell on me I did it. I don't see why the captain should not have the +same chance as the rest of us." + +A chorus of approval answered this little speech. + +"Well, then, comrades," said the leader, "are you all satisfied that it +should go by lot?" + +"Yes, yes," was the answer, while the old man stood with folded arms and +remained silent. + +"Then let it be by lot," said the leader. + +This course having been determined upon, a pebble was produced for every +man present. One was a white pebble; the others were of various colours. +The man who drew the white pebble was to be the executioner. The pebbles +were placed in a small hole in the side of the cave, not touched by the +light of the fire, and too high, even if there was most perfect light to +allow anyone to see its contents. The old man was the first to try his +fate, and kept the pebble which he drew close in his clenched fist; the +others followed, and each also kept the pebble in his closed fist. The +last to draw was the leader. The old man, stirring the logs with his +feet, said as the blaze lit up the cave-- + +"Now, let us show our hands," and every man displayed the pebble upon +his level palm. + +The white was in the leader's hand. He had no sooner shown it than his +fingers closed over it with a convulsive grasp that might have crushed +it into powder. + +"Yes," he said, with a strident voice, "the lot has decided I'm to be +the executioner. I shall answer for the discharge of my duty with my +life." + +"To-night," hissed the old man between his teeth. + +"Yes, to-night," was the reply, cold, and brief and fierce. + +The conspirators filed out of the cave; the last to leave was the +leader. + +The new moon had just broken through the clouds, which flung their dark +shadows on the sea. He gained the strand, conscious that his comrades +were watching him. He took the direction of the doomed house; he moved +along like a man whose heart was dead within him. He crossed the lawn, +he advanced to the window; the lights were burning in the room as they +had burned on that other night. The father and the daughter sat, side by +side, in front of the cheerful fire, her arm round his neck, and from +the movements of her lips, the light upon her face, and the pleasant +laughter in her eyes, the chief knew she was talking fondly. In a moment +of madness he lifted his pistol, and aimed it at her father's head. Just +then the girl drew back, rose from her chair, and standing up to her +full height, displayed all her freshening beauty. + +"God bless you, darling!" he sobbed; and when he was found dead outside +the window, with a bullet from his own pistol in his heart, the boys +knew that he was "True to them to the Death." + + + + +"THE LIGHT THAT LIES IN WOMAN'S EYES." + +(_A Story of '98_). + + +Nora O'Kelly was just nineteen years of age--tall, lissome, with cheeks +like an apple blossom, hair as brown as a ripe beechnut glowing in the +sunset, lips like rowan-berries in the warm August days, and eyes like +twin stars looking at themselves in a woodland pool--a girl to dream +about in one's sleep, to rave about when awake. + +This is high praise of a sweet Irish colleen, the critical reader may +say, but it was not half high enough for half the boys whose heads she +turned when she and they were young. Alas! they--the admired and the +admirers--have long since passed away, and are all now in noteless +graves, for the little story, if story it can be called, which is set +down here, is a story of a hundred years ago, when the war clouds +hovered over the land, and from out their dark bosoms flashed the +lightnings that rived many a home and made many places desolate. + +She was a farmer's daughter in the county Kildare, who lived not far +from Naas. Her life had been uneventful until her mother died when she +was little over sixteen. Since then, she, the only child, had been the +solace of her father. He, as is the way with fathers, would have kept +her always by him; and in the happiness which her loving companionship +brought him, he persuaded himself that she was perfectly happy under his +roof, and that her thoughts never wandered away from it and him. + +But as the wind bloweth where it lists, so love wanders at its own sweet +will. Sometimes it will steal in through the guarded gates of palaces; +sometimes it will creep in through the crannies of the mud-wall cabins; +no place is secure from it; the walled town is as defenceless against +its assault as the open plain. It marches down through centuries, the +overthrow of kingdoms and of nations cannot hinder its buoyant step, and +once in a way it came knocking at the heart of sweet Nora O'Kelly. +She did not at once understand the summons--what young girl sweet and +innocent as she ever does? But she heard the knocking at her heart all +the same, and when she looked through the windows of her eyes she saw, +or thought she saw, young Larry O'Connor looking straight at her with +such a look as she had never seen in a boy's eyes before, and she felt +as if she were walking on air, and that her heart was one sweet song +that could not find a word to interpret its music. + +Oh! for the delicious dream that comes to a happy privileged youth or +maiden once in a lifetime, and that is, no matter what the sceptics and +the scoffers say, sometimes realised, and this was the dream that had +invaded Nora's heart and taken complete possession of it. + +But Larry O'Connor was poor; one of half a dozen children who had to +live out of a farm not half as large as that of Nora's father, and she +was his only child. Her father also, like many men of property, thought +chiefly of it, and was utterly averse to change, and he had nothing but +hard words for the emissaries of the French Government as he said and +thought, who were going about the country, inculcating subversive ideas +in the minds of the young generation. + +Conscious of the growing unrest amongst the people, Mr. O'Kelly +recognised, but not until after a long struggle with himself that it was +desirable he should settle Nora in life. She was young, beautiful and +attractive, and he had means greater than his station. He had discovered +for himself that young Captain Anthony of the Yeos, the son of his +landlord, had been smitten by his daughter's charms. And though very +loath to think of her leaving himself once or twice, perhaps oftener, it +crossed his mind that if she were to leave him she could do no better +than become Captain Anthony's wife. He was a gentleman to the manner +born, though a little self-willed and occasionally passionate--failings +common enough in these days when his class, a minority of the people +was in the ascendant, with scarcely anyone to question them, save some +fierce peasant seeking 'the wild justice of revenge.' + +Young Anthony was a good-looking youth, with an air of distinction which +goes far to capture woman's hearts. He had first met Nora O'Kelly at a +ball given by his father to his tenants, and had danced with her on that +occasion twice or thrice. Nora met him with the freedom of a maiden who +looked upon him as above her in station, and she regarded his courtesy +towards her as a delicate compliment due from his superior position +rather than to herself. Her frankness did not deceive him for a moment. +There was that in her eyes--that which is in the eyes of every maiden of +guiless heart--which told more plainly than words can tell that he was +no more to her than a gracious stranger, here to-day and gone to-morrow. + +But this only added fuel to the fire kindled in his heart, her beauty, +as marvellous, though happily not so fleeting, as that of the white rose +which wins the heart of the wayfarer through the hedgerows in the days +of June. A good-looking young fellow as he was, enjoying a high social +position, many longing eyes had bent upon him, and he had no doubt that +he could easily find a lady of his own station who would be willing to +share his fortunes as his wife. But he had hitherto kept himself aloof +from the snares of love, and now unwittingly he had fallen over head and +ears into it. He did not know this for a considerable time. He had, it +is true, directed his steps often towards Nora's house, on one pretence +or another to see her father, but really to catch a glimpse of her. But +he was seldom successful, as Nora had no desire whatever to come in his +way, and hardly ever gave him a moment's thought. Indeed, her whole mind +was constantly filled with the vision of Larry O'Connor, who was just as +constantly thinking of her, though neither of them had yet spoken of +love. + +But Captain Anthony, although conscious of a growing interest in +Nora, did not suspect that he was really in love with her, and, as a +consequence, had not formed any 'intentions' concerning her. If he had +it would doubtless never have occurred to him that, in case he ventured +to offer his hand to her, he would meet with a refusal. But all at once, +in the most unexpected manner, he made the discovery that his heart was +in her keeping. Riding by the boreen leading up to her father's house in +the twilight of an April evening he caught a glimpse of two figures +moving up the boreen close together. One he knew at a glance, it was +Nora; the other he found to be Larry O'Connor. There was nothing very +remarkable in this, for the farms of the two families were joined, and +as neighbour's children they might naturally be on friendly terms, but +the sight smote the heart of Anthony like a sword thrust, and something +like hatred for O'Connor was stirred up in him. He rode on home slowly, +gnawed at by jealous pangs. The face of Nora was before his vision in +all its radiant beauty. The soft, sweet caressing voice which won all +hearts was in his ear, but now it was whispering, he had no doubt, words +of love into another's, and that other one wholly unworthy of her, a +mere peasant, for Captain Anthony prided himself on his gentility, +although he was only a descendant of a Cromwellian trooper. In +another mood he might perhaps have classed Nora's father in the same +category, but now his eyes were suddenly opened to her worth, and the +possibility--nay, the likelihood of losing her made her appear still +more precious. He made no attempt to shake himself free from his +torment. He surrendered himself all that night to it, the next day he +came to the rash determination as it proved to go straight to Mr. +O'Kelly and ask for Nora's hand. He had no doubt at all of his consent, +and he tried to persuade himself that Nora's heart was still free, and +that she would scarcely refuse him who might choose amongst so many. +When he arrived at the house he was disappointed to find that Mr. +O'Kelly had gone to Dublin, and would not be back till late, but Nora +was at home. He took a sudden resolve, he would see her and propose to +her there and then. + +Nora at the time was in the garden, and when the message was brought +to her that Captain Anthony desired to see her in the absence of her +father, she came wondering what the captain could want, and without the +faintest suspicion of his purpose. She received him in the parlour, +offered him a chair, she herself remaining standing. For a second +Captain Anthony stood as if irresolute--then he plunged straight into +the heart of the business. + +"I came to find your father, Nora. I have found you. I want to know," +here he looked imploringly at her, "can I keep you for ever?" + +Nora flushed crimson, and a startled look stole into her eyes. She +hardly knew what interpretation to put on such language, but before she +could say a word the captain rushed on impetuously--"I mean it, Nora, I +love you--yes, love you with all my heart. Will you be my wife?" + +A look of great distress came over Nora's face. Startling as the +proposal was, all the more so because of its brevity and plainness, the +evident sincerity of it appealed to her more strongly even than the +honour of it. She held out her hand while the tears came to her eyes. + +"It is impossible, captain; I love another." + +The captain's face became white. He ignored the proffered hand, and +bowing stiffly left the room and the house. When he had ridden about a +quarter of a mile he crossed into the fields and put his horse to the +gallop until both horse and rider were well nigh exhausted. It was the +means almost instinctively adopted by him to try and subdue the tumult +of his soul. + +From that day forward Anthony was a changed man. To the passion of +jealousy was added a feeling of deepest humiliation. To have been +refused by the daughter of one of his tenants in favour of a pauper +peasant youth was maddening, for though Nora had not mentioned +O'Connor's name, Anthony had no doubt that it was him she meant. But any +doubt he might have had was dispelled, for again it chanced he saw the +two lovers together, and he was witness, without their knowledge, of a +tender parting that still further added to his torments. The feeling, +akin to hatred which was stirred up on the first occasion developed into +actual hatred. But about this time there were some anxieties that came +as a distraction to the mind of the disappointed suitor. Rumours of an +intended rising had become persistent, and a few weeks was to prove +their truth. On the 23rd day of May Michael Reynolds stopped the mail +coaches, and on the following morning he made the attack on Naas. +Amongst his followers was Larry O'Connor, wearing for a favour a green +rosette, which had been made for him by Nora, who, deeply as she loved +him, was proud to see him go forth to battle for his native land. But we +are not writing history, and will not detain the reader by a description +of the battle of Naas. Information of the intended attack had been given +to the authorities, and a strong garrison was posted in the town, and +after a gallant effort to dislodge it, Reynolds was forced to order his +men to retreat. O'Connor, armed with a pike, had fought desperately by +his leader's side until the last moment. Then he, too, quitted the field +and got separated from the rest of his companions. As soon as the +insurgents were seen to be in retreat, the Fourth Dragoon Guards, the +Ancient Britons, and the Mounted Yeos, were let loose after them. The +latter were commanded by Captain Anthony. It was no quarter for anyone +they overtook, whether armed or unarmed. O'Connor finding himself alone, +crossed the fields as fast as he could, but still keeping his pike. +The pounding of a horse close behind him and a bullet whizzing by his +ear caused him to turn round. It was a dragoon, who also had become +separated from his troop. He had drawn his long sabre and made a cut at +O'Connor as he came up. The latter caught the sword on the guard of his +pike. After a combat of a few seconds the dragoon was unhorsed with a +fatal gash in his throat, and O'Connor, having possessed himself of his +sword, and the horse galloped away in the direction of his home. He was +within a few yards of the boreen leading up to O'Kelly's farm house, +when he caught sight of Nora. She was down at the road waiting for +tidings of the battle. O'Connor reined in his horse. At that moment +round a bend of the road appeared Captain Anthony, his horse covered +with foam. + +"Surrender, you rebel, or I will shoot you." + +He held the pistol out before him. O'Connor crying, "Go back, Nora +darling!" urged his horse forward, raising his sword the while. But +Anthony fired and the bullet struck O'Connor in the sword arm, which +fell helpless. In a second Anthony had gripped O'Connor, and in the +struggle the two men rolled off their horses. Anthony was on top, and +he drew a second pistol from his belt. Before he could use it his hand +was seized. + +It was Nora. Her assistance enabled O'Connor to regain his feet. + +"By G----, I'll make him swing on this very spot!" cried Anthony, +foaming with passion. + +"Thank God! Captain Anthony, I've saved you from committing murder!" + +For a moment his eyes met Nora's. Their deep, soft, tender influence, +and the soft, low, sweet voice fell like a happy calm on his soul. For a +second a fierce, wild longing to clasp her in his arms took possession +of him, and all his heart's love went out to her. Then there was the +noise of galloping horses below the bend of the road. + +Turning to O'Connor, Captain Anthony said gently, "The Yeos are coming, +save yourselves." + +And Larry and Nora went down the boreen together. + + + + +DEATH BY MISADVENTURE. + + +"Superstitious?" Well, I confess I am a little. I would rather not sit +down at table with twelve others, and I think that no really good host +should expose his guest to such a predicament. I have, indeed, made one +of thirteen at dinner on more than one occasion, and was not a penny the +worse, nor, as far as I can recall, was anyone else. But all the same, I +don't like the number. And I would rather see two magpies than one any +day, and I don't like to hear the 'tick' of the death watch at night. + +I would rather not pass a churchyard alone after dark, but then I don't +like churchyards even in the daytime, and would avoid them if I could. I +was once induced to make one at a seance of Spiritualists, and sat for +at least half an hour, with five or six others, round a table in the +dark, vainly hoping for a glimpse of a spirit from the other world, or +for a sound of the rapping, the system of telegraphy said to be employed +by its denizens, but I neither saw nor heard anything. + +The reader will gather from this that I am like nine out of ten of his +acquaintances in matters of this kind. I am not a convinced sceptic as +to supernatural visitations, and, on the other hand, I am not a believer +in them. All I know is that I had never seen anything to bring me in +touch, real or imaginary, with the other world until a certain night in +the first days of the month of September, over twenty years ago, when I +was staying at one of the most charming seaside resorts on the eastern +coast of Ireland. + +The weather was simply delightful. The breath of summer seemed still to +linger in the leaves, almost as many as they are in June, and which had +hardly begun to put on their autumn tints. The sea for days had been +like a mill-pond. The tide glided in and out almost imperceptibly, and +only in the still night could one hear its soft sighing voice. + +I was lodged in a 'furnished house' close to the sea. My rooms were very +bright, and offered splendid views of sea and mountain, and of the rich +foliage that crowned the hills that rose up, gently sloping, almost from +the strand. + +The house was furnished after the fashion of many seaside houses let +for the season, and idle during the winter months. The furniture was +indifferent, but sufficient. But of this I had not taken much notice. I +was easily satisfied, and moreover I spent most of my time out of doors. +But there came a day when the sky was covered with black clouds, from +which the rain poured down unceasingly, and the sea was hidden in a +mist. + +I had smoked and read for two or three hours, and then got up, stretched +my legs and walked about my sitting room. And for the first time, I +think, I paid serious attention to the pictures on the walls. With one +exception, they were all photographs. This exception was the allegorical +representation of Hope--a beautiful female figure. The others were +photos of family groups, churches, etc., and they suggested in an +unmistakeable way a "job lot" at an auction. + +This suggestion set me speculating on the fortunes of their former +owner. And what encouraged me in this was the character of the largest +photograph. It was a wedding group, evidently taken just after the +arrival from church. The persons forming it stood on the steps of a +rather fine house, over the porch of which the word 'Welcome' was formed +in rosebuds. There were in the group about twenty persons in all. The +bride, with a bouquet in her hand, was standing beside the bridegroom, +on the top step, and both came out very well in the photo, and as the +central figures, of course they naturally excited more interest than the +others. The bride was tall, shapely and decidedly good-looking, while +the bridegroom, on the other hand, was stumpy, thick-necked, and of an +ill-favoured countenance, and apparently much older than the bride. Was +it a match of love or convenience? How did it fare with the two standing +here side by side, whose future life till death would them part were +linked together for good or ill, for happiness or misery? + +An idle question, the reader may say, but then it was in an idle hour I +put it to myself. As I turned from this photo to the others, it occurred +to me that all of them were somehow connected. There were photos of two +country churches, one with a tower and steeple recently erected at the +time the picture was taken if one might judge from the clearly defined +lines of masonry, and the low size of the firs and yews planted round +it. The other had a square tower and was almost concealed by ivy, and +a glimpse was given of the churchyard and of some of the tombstones, +including a fine Celtic cross. In one or other of these I decided the +marriage had taken place. In the new church doubtless, for the photo +was mounted on a grey toned card, as was that of the wedding group. +Moreover, both were from the same photographic studio of Grafton-street, +Dublin. The photo of the old church was by a different artist, and was +mounted differently. The remaining photos were of the Madeleine, the +Place de la Concorde, the tomb of Napoleon, and the Louvre--souvenirs, +no doubt, of the honeymoon spent in Paris, and there was one of a pretty +cottage, which was, I surmised, the first home of the newly married +couple. In this way I explained satisfactorily to myself all the +pictures, save that of the old church, with the glimpse of the +graveyard. Then it seemed to me that I had arrived at the end of the +story, and so I gave it up and returned to my lounge, my book and my +pipe. + +That evening a friend from town dropped in after dinner and spent a few +hours with me. I went down to the station to see him off by the last +train, which went about eleven o'clock. Returning alone in a starless +night, and with the damp breath of the sea fog clinging to my face, and +the long, low moan of the ocean falling upon my ears, a 'creepy' feeling +came over me. I was like one rescued from a harassing but unseen enemy +when I got back into the shelter of my lodgings, and had closed and +bolted the door. + +I went almost straight to my bedroom, and I found myself leaving the gas +lighting, an unusual circumstance with me. After a while I fell asleep, +and began, as I thought, to dream. It seemed to me as though I was +sitting alone in the sittingroom downstairs, and that I was looking +curiously at the pictures, tracing from them again the little history +already given. Then my eyes rested steadily on the picture of the old +church, and then I thought that the picture itself had vanished, and +that I was actually standing at the gate of the churchyard. Over the +church and the little cemetery the morning was breaking, and the grass +and leaves appeared to be quite wet as if the heavy rain had only just +ceased. Then, when about to move away from the gate, I saw a white, and +at first, shadowy figure standing by the Celtic cross in the graveyard. +In a few seconds it seemed to become a defined and substantial form. It +was that of a lady of about thirty years of age. She wore about her +head drapery similar to that on the head of the allegorical picture of +Hope, which, as I have said, was among the pictures in the sitting-room, +but the face was different--it was that of the bride! Then I saw the +figure leave the cross and pass out by another gate than that at which I +was standing and go along the road. I felt myself drawn after it, and it +seemed to me that both it and I flew rather than walked, so swiftly did +we pass over the road. + +We must have gone some miles when the figure stopped in front of a +rose-clad cottage, identical with the cottage in the photo. + +The figure entered the cottage, and I thought I should see it no more. +But in a second the exterior of the cottage disappeared, and I saw +instead a bedroom, in which a woman was lying. It was the face and +figure which I had followed. The face was pale, and she appeared ill and +suffering. By the bed was a man, whose back was at first towards me, but +soon he moved and I saw that he was the image of the bridegroom. The +woman raised herself uneasily on the pillow. Her eyes were wide and +glistening, and she made a gesture towards a table at the head of the +bed, on which were two or three medicine bottles. The man, in reply to +her gesture, poured out something from one of the bottles into a cup and +put it to her lips. She appeared to drink it all, and then, lying back +quietly on the pillow, seemed to fall into a deep sleep. + +I awoke, and knew I had been dreaming--to my great surprise, found +myself in my dressing-gown in the sitting-room, to which I must have +made my way during my sleep. + +I started up, shivering with cold, and forgetting all about the dream, +went up to my bedroom and was soon asleep. + +However, when I awoke the dream came back to me, and so persistently +that I determined to find out something about the photos, which had now +a keener interest for me than before. + +I questioned my landlady. She was unable to give me any information save +what I had already guessed, that they had been bought at an auction at +one of the Dublin salerooms, but she had no idea who the owner was, or +who were the people in the group. She remembered that a former lodger +had remarked that the old church was some church near Dublin, but she +could not say which. + +Here was something of a clue, and I determined to pursue it. I took the +photo from the frame, and the next time I went to Dublin showed it to a +monument maker in Brunswick Street. He at once told me the church was +St. M----s, a few miles outside the city. I asked if it were he who had +put up the Celtic cross. He said he had not, but adding it was the work +of another sculptor who lived near Glasnevin. + +I went to the sculptor whom he named, and showed him the photo. At once +he recognised the cross at a glance. It had been erected to the memory +of Mrs. A---- D----, who had died a few years after her marriage. Her +death was, he said, the result of a misadventure, she having accidently +taken the wrong medicine. + +"Did she take it herself?" I asked. + +"Yes, that was the evidence at the inquest. The husband was dreadfully +cut up about it. It was he who put up the cross, one of the finest that +ever left a Dublin yard," said my informant, with an air of professional +triumph. + +"But for all that," he continued, "he got married within a few months +after his wife's death, and then," he added reflectively, "it is often +the way, the greater the grief in the beginning the sooner it is got +over." + +A question not to be decided this side of the grave if the whole of my +dream might not have been true so much having proved itself so. + + + + +A MESSAGE FROM THE DEAD. + + +Some years ago when I was making a tour through the Basque provinces I +fell in with another tourist who had been wandering through them for +some months in the endeavour to become acquainted with the manners, +customs and language of the peasantry. He was an Irishman, and had been +seeking evidence in support of the theory that there was not only a +close affinity between the Basque and the early Irish or Celtic tongue, +but also that there were close resemblances between the life, habits, +and customs of the Basques and the Irish who had not fallen under +foreign influence; and he stoutly maintained that the founder of the +Fueros, and of all rights and privileges which the Basques had so long +enjoyed, was an exiled Irish Prince, and, in support of his assertion, +he told me a romantic story which he had taken down from the lips of a +Basque peasant, and which I believe is still current in some of the +provinces. + +Although I did not assent to his views, yet being half Spanish myself, +I could not help feeling an interest in his researches, and I was +attracted by the earnestness with which he pursued them. But apart from +this he was an exceedingly genial and pleasant companion; we soon became +fast friends, and when at length we parted he carried away a promise +from me to visit him in his home, which was situated on the south coast +of Ireland. "They say it was built by a Spaniard," he told me, "and it +has something of a foreign air about it. It is not quite a palace, you +know," he added, "but it will serve a pair of old bachelors like you and +me." And so it came to pass that I found myself one midsummer night +about twenty years ago at Rochestown House, some distance inland from +the head of a beautiful little bay not many miles from the town of +Kinsale. + +Although I had lived in England for many years I had never been to +Ireland before, and, I confess I had allowed myself to be misled into +the belief that it was in a disturbed state, and so was agreeably +surprised to learn from my friend O'Driscoll, that the country was 'as +peaceful as a duck in a pond,' as he put it, and that there was nothing +more dangerous to a bachelor like myself than the eyes of the girls, +which he insisted were even brighter than those of Spain--a heresy which +I felt bound to challenge. + +I shall not waste time by a lengthened description of Rochestown House, +for, in sooth, it did not call for one. It was a long, irregular +building. The rooms were fairly large and well lit. The only occupants +of the house were my friend and three or four servants, and it was but +plainly furnished. The room which had been allocated to me had just what +was requisite in it, save for a few charming pictures which O'Driscoll +had brought back with him from Spain, and which were pleasant reminders +of that romantic land; and a very beautiful inlaid card table, which +seemed out of place in the company of the plainer furniture. A few rugs +disposed here and there, emphasised rather than hid the bareness of +the floor; but the room was, nevertheless, very cheerful, and from the +window there were delightful views of land and sea. Yet it was in this +room that looked so cheerful on a lovely summer's evening, I was to +undergo the most thrilling experience of my life. + +After dinner O'Driscoll and I strolled towards the sea. The night was +fine though sultry, and as we returned to the house about eleven o'clock +the appearance of the heavens heralded the approach of a thunderstorm. +We had so many things to talk about that it was long after midnight +before I retired to my room. + +I felt no inclination to sleep, owing, perhaps, to the sultriness of the +air, and I dropped into an armchair close to the fireplace, and from +this position I commanded a full view of the room. I lit a cigar, and +then, lifting up a small handbag which was within reach, opened it to +get a book which I had been reading--it was one of Exaguoriaz's plays. A +little ivory-handled revolver lay on top of it, which I had been induced +to bring over with me owing to the rumours of the disturbed condition of +the country. I smiled as I looked at it, for it seemed likely to be of +little use if I were attacked by any of the stalwart fellows whom I had +seen when strolling with O'Driscoll down through the village on our way +to the sea. I laid it on the table beside me, and, lying back in the +armchair, was soon immersed in the play; after a little while a strange +feeling crept over me. I shook myself, as if by so doing I could free +myself from it, and, dropping the book, looked round the room. It was +fully lighted by a lamp. I could see into every corner. Lying back in +the chair once more I puffed away at my cigar, and watched, after the +fashion of smokers, the blue-white wreaths slowly circling upwards to +the ceiling. + +Not more than half a dozen had floated up when I heard a noise of +scratching inside the wainscot. "It is a rat," I thought, and my eyes, +resting on the lower part of the wainscot directly in front of me, saw +peering from a small hole which I had not hitherto observed, the blazing +eyes, of what seemed to me a small rat. A little startled, and I fear a +little frightened, I caught up the volume which I had been reading, and +flung it in the direction of the intruder. The eyes disappeared, and I +heard a scurrying away inside the wainscot; and then only did I feel +inclined to laugh at myself for allowing such a trifling incident to +make any impression on me. + +I was about to leave the chair to pick up the book when a flash of +lightning, which came in through the slits in the shutter, almost took +my sight away, and a peal of thunder followed sounding at first remote, +but coming with every discharge nearer and nearer, until it seemed to +pour forth its full power directly over the house. Then, as if its force +were spent, it passed with a faint rumbling and muttering, and finally +died away. I expected to hear the rain falling, but none fell, and the +room had become so sultry that I decided to open the window, in the hope +of an inrush of cooler air. + +Just as I had placed my hand on the bar that fastened the shutter, I +thought I heard a long, deep-drawn sigh. I turned and looked about, but +saw nothing, and I felt vexed with myself for allowing my imagination +to play tricks with me. Again I heard the sigh, and I must confess +something like a creepy feeling came over me. I retired from the window +without opening it, went back to my chair, and taking up my revolver +sat in such a position as to be able to keep the whole room under +observation; but I saw nothing, and except the ticking of the clock and +the chiming of the quarters, heard nothing. + +At length it struck two. Again I saw the eyes peering at me from the +corner opposite to that from which I had dislodged them, at the far end +of the wall. Instinctively I pointed the revolver at them, and would, I +believe, have fired but that a low thrill of laughter fell upon my ear. + +I started as if I had been hit. Seated at the little card table of which +I have spoken was a woman, beautifully dressed, whose face was concealed +by a large fan. Her elbow rested on the table, and her arm, bare to +shoulder from wrist, was circled by a bracelet of emeralds and diamonds. +A ring was on one of her fingers. It was an opal set in brilliants. I +could see a coil of hair above the fan which the lady flirted lightly, +and evidently her head was bent the better to conceal her face. + +I took all this in at a glance, and for a second was spell-bound. I +dropped my hand and the revolver fell from it to the floor. Then her +head was swiftly raised, there was the gleam of a white forehead--a +flash of wondrous eyes, such eyes as I have never seen, such as I +know I shall never see in this life again. Their lustre was simply +indescribable, and they possessed a mysterious attraction that seemed to +draw my soul through breathless lips. I was divided between desire and +undefinable fear. Perhaps it was owing to this conflict of emotions that +my senses became confused. I had no doubt but that I was still sitting +in the chair gazing at the bewitching apparition, and yet it seemed as +if I were looking at myself or my double advancing over the floor, and +finally kneeling at the feet of the lady. But the advancing figure, +like me in every other respect, was attired as a Spanish gallant of the +sixteenth century, and then the recollection flashed on me that I had +appeared in a somewhat similar costume at a fancy dress ball a year or +two before, and I found myself engaged in that curious yet familiar +mental struggle of one who, escaping from a dream, questions himself as +to whether he be dreaming. + +Suddenly a lightning flash, more vivid than any that had preceded it, +was followed by a roll of thunder almost deafening. I could no longer +doubt but that I was awake. The lightning had so dazzled me that for +a second I no longer saw anything, but as the last faint echo of the +thunder died away I saw myself or my other self kneeling at the feet of +the lady. + +I made an effort to cry out, but I was like one in a nightmare; my voice +refused to utter any cry, and then in accents that seemed to melt into +my soul I heard the words: + +"Then you have come at last, life of my soul?" + +"Did you doubt it, dearest of the dear?" + +Both sentences were spoken in Spanish. Suddenly, like an inspiration, I +remembered the portrait of the young cavalier which bore, it was said, a +striking resemblance to me, and whose costume I had copied for the fancy +dress ball. It had belonged to my mother's family, and there was a vague +tradition that the young fellow had accompanied Don Juan D'Aguila on a +Spanish expedition to Ireland in the time of Queen Elizabeth, and had +fallen in that country. It was he, then, whom I had mistaken for myself. + +And now he was bending over the white hand, and he kissed it again and +again. I had recovered from my first shock, and so lifelike was it all +that I became embarrassed when the wondrous eyes of the beautiful woman +for a second rested on mine. I rose from the chair, feeling like an +intruder, but before I could move a step, swift as light a sword-blade +descended on the youth's neck. The severed head fell with a thud upon +the floor. An ear-piercing scream, which has never since left my memory +followed. Once more the lightning's radiance blinded me, and, after a +deep-mouthed roar, the rage of the thunderstorm again seemed to spend +itself above the house, that trembled as if it had been stricken. + +In a half-defiant mood I rushed to the shutters and flung them open. The +grey light of the morning had already come, and faint streaks of gold +were shining in the east. I turned from the window and looked for the +murdered man and the lady of the wondrous eyes--I was the sole occupant +of the room! + +A loud, swift, 'Rap! rap! rap!' at the door, and a cry of "Open, for +God's sake!" brought me to it. I undid the bolt, and O'Driscoll tumbled +in pale as a ghost. + +"What was it?" he gasped--"that awful scream? It came from here." + +I knew not what to answer, and said aimlessly:--"There is no one here +save myself." + +O'Driscoll opened the window, and the cool fragrant air calmed both him +and me. "I was dreaming, I suppose," he said, "but you have not been to +bed!" He had not until then perceived that I was fully dressed. + +"Oh, I remained up reading," I replied. + +"And did you hear nothing?" he asked. + +"The thunder, of course," I answered lightly, but I suppose there must +have been something in my manner that betrayed me, for my eye had just +fallen on a faded brown stain close to the card table and flowing away +from it--first a blotch and then three or four trickles--which I knew to +be blood stains. + +O'Driscoll advanced towards me, put his hand on my shoulder, and looking +into my eyes asked earnestly, "Did you hear the scream?" + +"Yes." + +"And did you see anything?--I know you did." + +There was no longer any reason for hesitating to avow that I had seen +something. "Sit down," I said. He dropped into an armchair. I sat on the +side of the bed and told him of my vision as I have set it down here. He +listened without comment until the end, and then he said: "So it's true, +after all." + +"What?" I asked. + +His story was brief. Some years previous he was in the garden giving +directions to an old gardener who had known the place all his life, and +when he came to a certain corner, "That," said the gardener, to +O'Driscoll, "is where they found the skeletons years agone." + +"What skeletons?" asked O'Driscoll. + +"There was a man whose head had been cut off, for 'twas lying beside his +ribs, and there were three fingers that they said were lady's fingers, +for on one of them was a gold ring with a jewel in it, and people used +to say," the gardener added, "that sometimes on a wild stormy night, +when there was thunder, that the ghosts of a gentleman and a lady used +to be seen about the house, but he himself had never seen them, nor had +he known anyone who had seen them." + +My friend not unreasonably concluded that the story of that apparition +was an invention subsequent to the discovery of the skeletons, and had +given no credence to it. Since he had become tenant of the house there +had been many nights of thunderstorm as fierce as, if not fiercer than, +that which had just passed, but he had never seen anything and never +heard anything until he heard the piercing scream that had brought him +to my door. + +We talked long over the matter then and many times afterwards, and could +find no solution of the mystery; but I could not help asking myself, as +I do now, if the apparition were not in the nature of a message from the +dead to tell the true story of the fate of my kinsman whom in appearance +I so much resembled, and who, we had believed, had fallen in the Spanish +expedition to Ireland, three hundred years before. + + + + +A VISION OF THE NIGHT. + + +One wild, stormy night over twenty years ago I entered a second-class +smoking carriage in the last train from Dublin to Bray. So wild was the +night that it was with great difficulty my cab horse had been able to +drag along his rumbling vehicle through the streets swept clear of +pedestrians by the blinding sheets of rain. The station was, except for +one or two porters, completely deserted. I arrived just as the train, +which was almost empty, was about to start, and I entered a carriage +with two compartments, in neither of which was there any other +passenger. All the windows were closed, and for the few seconds before +the train started I enjoyed the luxury of the quiet that contrasted so +pleasantly with the storm that was howling outside. But as soon as the +train had moved out from the station the rain began to rattle like hail +against the windows, and I could hear the wind strike the carriages, and +the oil lamps in the roof flash and flicker, so that I expected them +every moment to go out. I was muffled up to the throat, and was solacing +myself with a cigar and the thought of the bright fire that I knew would +greet me on arriving at my destination, and helped to raise my feelings. +I was staying at Bray in the house of my sister, who, however, was with +her husband in Scotland, and would not return for some days, and the +only other occupant of the house besides myself was an old woman who +acted as housekeeper for me. She would have gone to bed long before my +arrival, but I knew from experience that she would take care to leave +for me in the parlour a cheery fire and a comfortable supper. + +I took no note of the stations at which we stopped, and it is only a +conjecture on my part that it was at a station about half way between +Dublin and Bray that an old gentleman entered the compartment in which I +was. As he came in, a cold blast of air swept into the carriage, and +made little whirlpools of the sawdust that had been spread on the floor. +I shivered as the icy blast caught me, but I was almost ashamed of my +weakness, well-clad as I was, when I looked at the old gentleman who sat +opposite me. He was thinly clad in an ill-fitting coat; his face was wan +and haggard; his slouched hat was shining with wet; and the rain was +streaming from his white beard that descended to his breast. He took off +his hat and shook and squeezed it. I then noticed that his white hair +was scant. His brow was furrowed by many wrinkles. His eyebrows were +white and bushy. His eyes were light blue, the lightest, I think, I had +ever seen, and they were very mild--mild almost to sadness. I made some +remark upon the weather. My fellow traveller answered in a weak, thin +voice that it 'was cold, very cold, and cut to the bone like a knife.' +I felt somehow that the old gentleman was poor and miserable. Indeed, +he shivered visibly several times. He did not appear in a mood for +conversation, and I continued to smoke in silence till we reached Bray. +Here the porters opened the door, and I stepped out. I gave my hand to +the old gentleman and helped him to alight, for which he thanked me in a +mild voice. The station, as that of Dublin had been, was deserted but +for the porters. The old gentleman and myself were the only passengers. +I went down to the van to get some heavy luggage and give it in charge +of the porters as there was no chance of getting it brought to my house +that night. When I had seen to this I left the station. I saw no sign of +my fellow-traveller and supposed he had gone his way. I could not help +thinking of him as I pursued mine, and I was irritating myself with the +question whether he might not have been in need of some help which I +could have given him. But I ceased to think of him and his needs when I +reached the esplanade. + +The storm was sweeping the spray from the roaring waves right up against +the faces of the houses, and the night was so intensely dark and most of +the lamps having been blown out, it was with difficulty I kept the path. +My house was half way between the railway station and Bray Head. A few +steps led up to the door. The fierce wind almost carried me up the +steps, and when by means of my latch-key I opened the door it swept +inwards with a bang against the wall, and the pictures hanging in the +hall were lifted up and fell back with a succession of slaps loud as +pistol shots. With the utmost difficulty I pressed back the door. I was +so cold and drenched with the rain and spray that I did not wait to lock +it, but closed it securely. Flinging off my overcoat I hurried into +the parlour where a light was burning and a bright fire blazing. I was +shivering from head to foot. Having taken off my boots that were damp, I +flung myself into the armchair in front of the fire. + +The influence of the fire quickly asserted itself, and a feeling of +pleasant languor crept over me, although the wind that buffeted the +windows and made them rattle moaned like a soul in pain. Soon the sound +seemed to grow fainter and fainter, and I felt the lids closing on my +eyes, and was half conscious that sleep was gently dulling my senses, +when suddenly a cold blast of air chilled the room, and the loud booming +of the sea sounded almost at my ear. I jumped up and turned towards +the parlour door. It was open, and on the threshold stood my fellow +traveller. Although I was wide awake I looked upon him as if he were a +spectre, and I found it impossible to utter a word. His hat was in his +hand, and his white hair fell over his face, and from his long beard the +rain was dripping. He advanced towards me timidly, and, bowing low, +said-- + +"I hope you will forgive me, sir. I am a stranger here, and I know not +where to seek a bed to-night. I followed you aimlessly, but when you +came up the steps and entered your house, and I found myself alone with +the sea and the wind and the night, I knew not what to do. I felt the +need of being near some human being, and I crept up to your door, +intending to pass the night against it, the other houses were all +so cold and dark. I was standing for a few minutes when a flash of +lightning showed me the latch-key which you had forgotten to remove. An +impulse, impossible to resist, overcame me. I opened the door as softly +as I could, taking advantage of a lull in the storm, and entered the +hall. I would have remained there, but the light that shone from your +room tempted me, and I pushed open the door. It was wrong, I know; but I +am old and lonely and somewhat fearsome, and you'll forgive me." + +I recovered my composure as the old man was speaking, and there was so +deep a pathos in his voice, and he swayed so as he spoke, that a feeling +of compassion took possession of me, to the exclusion of all other +feelings. I forgot completely the strangeness of the situation, and +taking the old man by the hand I led him to the chair which I had just +occupied, and placed before him the decanter. It seemed to me that a +strange glitter troubled the soft blue eyes. He poured out a tumblerful +and drained it in a breath. Taking another chair I sat at the side of +the fire, lit a cigar, and handed one to my companion. Smoking, as every +lover of the weed knows, is conducive to silence, and my mind soon +became lazily occupied in watching the smoke-wreath from my cigar mingle +with that of my companion. He spoke not, and after a while I noticed +that he had ceased to smoke, and that the cigar was going out, as +his right hand, in the fingers of which he was holding it, remained +motionless on his knee. His head had dropped on his breast, and his +heavy breathing satisfied me that he was asleep. + +I began to feel as if I were in a dream that was not all a dream. I was +conscious of the blue smoke rising from my cigar. It floated away from +me like a mist. After a while the mist cleared, and I thought I saw a +stream slowly gliding through woodland ways, and I followed it till it +passed by the foot of a noble ash tree, that bent down and spread its +lower branches half across it. And beneath the ash and against its trunk +I saw a youth and a maiden sitting side by side. She held his hand in +hers. His lips were moving, and he was whispering something that filled +her eyes with a light as of summer stars. Her little mouth opened like a +rosebud yielding to the sun, as if to answer him, when suddenly a deeper +shadow than that cast by the bending branches of the ash fell upon the +lovers. The youth was dragged to the ground, and as the maiden shrieked, +a knife was driven into his throat by a man whose face I could not see. +I strove to cry out, but my voice failed me. I struggled as if a great +weight were pressing me down. At last I shook myself free with the wild +scream ringing in my ears. I looked around. My companion was sitting in +his chair, apparently in deep sleep. The half consumed cigar had dropped +from his hands. I felt so shaken by what I had seen, or dreamed, that I +was about to awaken him when a new horror took away my powers of action. +Sitting on the ground close to my companion and with his head resting +upon the old man's knees, was the figure of the murdered youth whom I +had seen slain beneath the ash tree. His eyes were open and staring, his +face was wan and white. In his throat was a jagged gash, and around the +edges were seams of clotted blood. His fingers were slashed and bloody, +as if he had struggled hard with his murderer. I looked from the dead +man to the sleeper. He was breathing lightly, and a smile like that of a +child parted his lips. But as I continued to look at him I noticed that +they began to twitch convulsively, then his whole frame shook as if a +fierce tempest of passion were raging in his heart. He started from his +chair--the dead man fell upon the floor. I rushed instinctively, and yet +with a horrible dread, to lift him up, but as I was stretching out my +hands for that purpose I felt myself gripped by the throat by the skinny +hands of the old man. His eyes that I had thought so mild had a hard +glitter in them, and his haggard face was convulsed with passion. It +cost me a great effort, although I was young and strong, to loose his +grip, but at length I flung him back on his chair. He sat for a second +like one dazed. Then he raised his hands in supplication, and the tears +stole from his eyes, that were again as mild looking as when I first saw +them. + +"I was dreaming. I--I thought--I thought--but that was long ago, and +you'll forgive me." + +I didn't quite know how to answer him, I was not sure that I had not +been, was not dreaming myself. The dead youth was, of course, only a +ghastly vision, and, perhaps, the old man's hands had been already on my +throat when I fancied I saw the deed of murder under the ash tree. It +seemed to me useless to seek any explanation from my unbidden guest, who +began to appear to me uncanny. + +"I'll go, I'll go," he said as I kept looking towards him, "the morning +will soon be here now. I am not afraid of the morning, only of the +night--the black night, for then it all comes back to me, and I see them +as I saw them on that evening so long ago. Hundreds of years ago, I +think, since they and I were young. And now I am old, so old." + +"Who are they? When was it?" I asked, scarcely indeed, expecting any +serious answer, but it seemed to me as if I kept the unhappy man at +arm's length by talking to him. I felt I could crush him with a blow, +but I suppose it was owing to the shock which I had undergone in the +hideous dream from which his attack had roused me that made me afraid +of him, for afraid I was. + +I had thought that at farthest only a few hours had passed since I +entered the parlour, but the stranger was nearer the truth. The morning +was almost at hand. Through the chinks of the shutters a grey light +began to show itself. I flung them back, pulled up the blind, and could +see the sea still raging, but the wind had died away, and in the east +there was a faint rose-coloured streak. + +When I turned back the old gentleman was pouring himself out a glass of +whisky. His hand trembled as he lifted it to his lips. When he had set +down the tumbler, having drained it, he said: + +"The morning has come. You are very good, I go. I was wrong; but I knew +not what I was doing, and I have suffered." + +I no longer feared him. As the light of the morning increased I saw +only the haggard, worn old man, whose face was itself a witness of long +suffering, and I felt a great pity for him. There was some bread and +butter and cold meat on the sideboard, which had been left there by the +housekeeper the night before. I pointed to it. He said he would take a +little bread. I pressed him to eat some meat, but he refused. Then, as +he turned to leave the room, I put my hand in my pocket and produced +some silver. A faint flush stole into his wasted face, and I saw I had +offended him. I apologised. He thanked me for my kindness in offering +it to him, and also for my hospitality, and begged me to forgive him for +his intrusion and the trouble he had caused. With a low bow he left the +room. I followed, but he had opened the hall door himself and passed out +on to the esplanade without looking back. + +I returned to the parlour, and flinging myself into the chair began +to recall the events of the night, and had been for some time vainly +speculating on them when I was disturbed by the housekeeper entering the +room to make arrangements for breakfast. + +She saw at a glance that I had not been to bed. I did not like to +communicate my experience to her, but the day following I saw in the +daily papers the account of the escape of a lunatic from the Dundrum +Criminal Lunatic Asylum. The description, save as to the clothes, +tallied with that of the old man. There was a further announcement +stating that he had been found wandering in the direction of Enniskerry, +and had been brought back to the asylum. + +It so happened that I knew one of the physicians that attended the +Dundrum Institution, and when I met him a few days after, without giving +him any hint of my acquaintance with the object of my inquiry, asked him +what he knew concerning the old man, and suggested that my curiosity had +been aroused solely by the account of the escape which appeared in the +newspapers. + +"It is a very sad story," he said. "The old man has been confined for +over forty years for a terrible crime committed when he was a young man +of about five-and-twenty. He was enamoured of a lady, whose love he +believed he had secured. She had accepted him, and they were to have +been married in a few months. Rumours were brought to him that the lady +was listening to the whispers of another suitor. He soon discovered that +the rumours were well founded. The fiercest jealousy completely took +possession of him, and undoubtedly deprived him of his senses, he one +day surprised the pair, sitting together beneath a tree on the banks of +a stream not far from the lady's house, beside which he and she had +often wandered before their vows were plighted. Stung to ungovernable +rage by this sight, he killed the young man, gashing his throat with +a knife in the most shocking manner. The lady was unharmed; but the +tragedy took away her reason, and she died within a few months of the +dreadful occurrence. The murderer made no attempt to deny his crime; on +the contrary, he talked about it freely to anyone who would listen. He +was tried, and, of course, convicted; but the Lord Lieutenant, being +satisfied that the wretched man was insane, commuted his sentence, and +it was ordered that he should be kept in confinement during Her +Majesty's pleasure. As a rule he is very gentle, but sometimes--and +always at night--he becomes very violent, and the attendants have to be +on their guard against him." + +"It is, indeed," said I, "a sad story." + + + + +THE PRETTY QUAKERESS. + + +I was just about twenty years of age. I had entered Trinity three years +before, and had fallen in with a Roystering set. In those days the +fights between the college lads and the townsfolk were more frequent and +furious than they have been of recent years, and I took my share of the +cuts and bruises that were almost always the portion of the combatants +on either side. On one occasion when we had a pretty stiff battle with +the butcher boys from around St. Patrick's, I was felled by a blow. In +the crush I was unable to rise, and would have been in a fair way of +being trampled out of existence but for the gallant exertions of one of +my companions, Jack Langrishe. He fought like a devil, and, knocking +over his nearest foes, cleared a space which enabled me to get up. + +Jack, in trying to save me, got an ugly cut on his left arm, which cost +him some trouble. The butchers were put to flight, and Jack carried off +as a trophy a villainous looking knife which he had captured from one of +his assailants. Intimate as we had been before, the service which he had +rendered to me made us just sworn friends for life, and I felt bound to +do him any service it was in my power to render him. + +It was not long, however, until Jack's outrageous conduct brought him +into collision with the college authorities. Having gone near blowing up +one of the college porters, by slipping in the most playful manner, a +small bag of powder into his coat pocket, Jack was sent down to the +country, and I missed his companionship for several months; but, indeed, +I had pretty well forgotten him when just about the 1st of December, +1759, I received a letter from him, saying that he was running up to +town for a few days, and that he would put up at the "Robin Hood" in +Dame-street, and would be glad if I could call on him there on the +evening of the 1st of December, and dine and make a night of it. He told +me to be sure to ask for Mr. Sugrue. Jack gave me no hint as to why he +had adopted another's name; but this did not surprise me very much. I +suspected he was up to one of his old tricks. + +When the evening of the 1st of December arrived I left my rooms in +college and walked leisurely across Dame Street, stopping for a few +minutes at King William's Statue to watch a match of fisticuffs between +a chairman and a driver of a hackney coach, in which the chairy got the +best of it. + +I reached the "Robin Hood" just in time to witness the arrival of +the coach from Kilkenny, which should have brought Jack. I saw the +passengers descend from the coach; but although I scanned their faces as +closely as the light of the lanterns and that coming from the windows +and open door of the tavern allowed, I could see no trace of Jack. "He +must have missed the coach," said I to myself, and I went on up towards +the top of the street. Then it occurred to me that as he was coming +under an assumed name he might have taken some other mode of conveyance, +as he would be well known to the guard and the driver of the coach, so I +retraced my steps, and entering the tavern inquired for Mr. Sugrue. + +"He's just come, sir," said the waiter. + +"How did he come?" I asked carelessly. + +"By the Kilkenny coach." + +"Curious I did not notice him," thought I. + +"Yes, sir; he's in No. 4 Room, sir, first floor to your right, and will +be happy to see you, if you're the gentleman that was to call for him, +sir." + +I knocked at the door of No. 4. + +"Come in," said a gruff voice, very unlike Jack's. + +I pushed open the door and entered, and found myself in the presence of +an old man wearing spectacles, and having a curious resemblance to one +of the Deans of Trinity. + +"What the devil is up with you, Langrishe?" + +"Sugrue, Tom, if you love me," said Jack in his natural voice. + +"And what is it all about, Jack?" + +"My dear fellow, I'm as ravenous as a hawk, and mind, there's not to be +a word about business till we're in the middle of the third bottle. The +port here is first rate. But my mind is never equal to business until I +have fairly moistened my palate." + +Jack had secured a private room, and it was evident that he had ordered +the dinner beforehand, for it left nothing to be desired. + +I felt there was no use in pressing him for any explanation until the +time arrived when he would be willing to give it, but I could not help +looking curiously now and then at his remarkable get up. + +"I knew 'twould surprise you, Tom," said Jack, evidently delighted. + +"It has, I must confess," said I. + +Jack gave me little opportunity of questioning him, as he insisted on my +giving him full information of all that had happened in college during +his enforced absence. Of course, I was nothing loth to tell him, having +a lad's delight in narrating the various pranks and scrapes in which I +had taken part, and I rather think we had got well into the fifth bottle +when he said unexpectedly; + +"Tom, my boy, I'm ready now." + +"Who is she, Jack?" + +"You are out, Tom," said Jack, severely. + +"So is that medallion portrait, Jack, which has just escaped from your +clerical coat." + +Jack caught up the medallion, and looking at it fondly, rose to his not +over steady feet. + +"Tom," he said, "fill!" + +I filled. + +"Here's to the flower of all maidens for beauty; the incomparable! the +divine! Dorothy Jacob. Dorothy of my soul and heart." + +"She's a Quaker, then," said I. + +"She's a goddess, sir." + +And when we had drunk her health as often as there were letters in her +name, which proceeding was the result of what Jack called "a sweet +suggestion of his own," I gathered from him, not without some effort, +the following particulars regarding the lady and how he became +acquainted with her. I do not, of course, attempt to give them in Jack's +own words, for he was frequently breaking out into exclamations about +her beauty, and as frequently insisting on my once more drinking her +health. + +Dorothy's father was a merchant of Kilkenny. She was his only child. Her +mother had died young, and she was left in the care of a maiden aunt, +who had died a few years previous to Jack's first meeting with the young +lady. + +The father was a very wealthy merchant, whose riches were partly +inherited and partly acquired. He was desperately fond of his money, but +still fonder of his daughter. He knew that he was growing old and always +dreaded the day when she might leave him for another. He had kept her +very much to himself and allowed her to see very little company. + +She was very beautiful, so beautiful, as I afterwards discovered, as to +fully justify Jack's panegyric. And many an amorous eye was cast upon +her as she passed with her father through the streets on her way to +church or market, for he seldom allowed her to go out alone. But the +maiden never returned a glance, and did not seem to know how many hearts +she was setting on fire. + +Jack Langrishe lived with his uncle a few miles outside the town of +Kilkenny, and was a frequent visitor to the town, and to the club which +was the resort of all the young bloods and bucks of the day. + +He had heard from them of the pretty Quakeress, had seen her several +times, and since he had been sent down from college had fallen over head +and ears in love with her. + +Over and over he had heard the bucks suggesting that she should be +carried off. But Jack always indignantly denounced any suggestion of the +kind, and with such heat that he had in consequence to cross swords with +one or two of his club associates, and with such effect that he came to +be regarded as too formidable an antagonist to be trifled with. + +Abductions were common enough then, to be sure, although the Government +made strong efforts to put them down, and for that reason, there was, in +the opinion of most of the young bloods, an added argument in favour of +them. But Jack Langrishe had an argument of his own. It was, "That a +woman that was worth winning could be won, and that the man who could +not win her was unworthy of her," and he used to add, "that any yokel +with sufficient force at his back might effect an abduction, but that a +gentleman unaided should be able to capture a woman's heart." + +Whereupon his companions concluded that Jack Langrishe was very much in +love with the pretty Quakeress, and was a fool for his pains. + +Jack knew he was in love, and was not quite sure that he was not a fool, +for he had watched the comings and goings of the lady, and although he +threw himself in the way as much as possible he had never obtained the +slightest glance of recognition. + +But fortune, which always favours the brave, sometimes favours the +faithful. + +On a certain fair day in Kilkenny old Jacob and his daughter were coming +down the street towards their house, and Jack Langrishe by a fortunate +accident, was coming in the opposite direction, when suddenly, up +through a by-street almost in line with the place at which father and +daughter had arrived, a spirited young horse, which had broken away from +its groom, came galloping madly and was almost down on the old man when +Jack threw himself between. The old man staggered back into the arms of +his daughter and Jack fell under the horse's hoofs. + +Some onlookers rushed to his assistance and picked up Jack, apparently +helpless, and he uttered a groan which would stir a heart of iron. The +rascal all the time was no more hurt than you or I, but he caught a +glimpse of the pale, questioning face of the maiden, and he thought he +had discovered a way to her heart. + +The old man, having recovered from his fright, could not refuse to thank +his deliverer, although he was eager to get away from the crowd that was +pressing around him and his fair charge. + +"Oh, he's murdered, sir--he's murdered, Mr. Jacob," said one of the +crowd. + +"Don't you think we ought to bring him home, father?" whispered Dorothy +in the old man's ear. + +The whispered suggestion brought the old man to himself as if a cold +shower bath had unexpectedly fallen upon him. + +"No, child; prithee, heed me. The young man must have friends. See, they +know who he is." + +The last remark was justified by an observation from one of the persons +who were lifting up Jack, and who said: + +"He's young Mr. Langrishe, of the Grange." + +"Let's take him to the club." + +"We better take him to the doctor's," said another; and to the +doctor's--which, fortunately, was close at hand, otherwise Jack, as the +rogue afterwards confessed to me, would not have been able to stand it +any longer--he was brought. + +His kind, but somewhat rough, aiders and sympathisers came very much +nearer by their excited efforts to carry him through the crowd, which +was pressing on them with all kinds of inquiries, doing him a greater +harm than they imagined the runaway colt had done him. The doctor, +who was the apothecary of the town, felt all Jack's limbs, while that +gentleman groaned as if every bone in his body was broken. But the +astute disciple of Æsculapius having shaken his head, solemnly declared +that he was very badly bruised, and that there might be possibly some +internal complications. + +He gave Jack a restorative which worked wonders. It caused him not only +to regain his full consciousness, but had almost the effect of making +him use some very vigorous language, but as he felt this would have been +out of character, he discreetly checked himself. + +He was taken to the hotel, the Ormond Arms, where he spent that night +and the next day and night, and then allowed himself to be taken home to +his uncle's at the Grange. + +Old William Jacob called several times at the hotel, and was profuse in +his thanks to the preserver of his life, and also conveyed the thanks of +his daughter. Mistress Dorothy. Jack had lingered, hoping that the old +gentleman would bring the damsel to see him, but finding his hopes were +vain, he became well enough to be removed. + +After lying up at home for a week or more, Jack returned into the town, +and by well contrived "accident" he met the pretty Quakeress as she was +walking alone. As he approached he affected not to see her, and wore the +woe-begone expression of an invalid. He kept looking up towards the sky +in an apparently aimless sort of a way, until he came within a few feet +of her. Then he suddenly dropped his eyes, and found, as he expected, +that she was looking at his face. + +She flushed all over as she saw that she was detected. Jack endeavoured +to pretend that he was quite surprised at seeing her, and walking as if +he would pass on, when he was just in front of her he lifted his hat, +and was about to address her when her father appeared unexpectedly +beside her, but fortunately Jack was able to convert the salute which he +intended for the lady into a courteous recognition of the old gentleman, +while with a covert glance he was able to convey to her that she was +included in it. + +"How dost thou do, friend?" said the old gentleman, "I am very pleased +to see thee able to be about again." + +"Thank you, sir, you are very kind," said Jack, "I was about to call on +you to inquire if you had completely recovered from the shock." + +They had moved along as they were talking, and the merchant's warehouse +was close at hand. He felt that he couldn't well refuse to ask Jack to +come in with him, but if he could he would have avoided doing so. + +He had a hearty dread of the young bloods and bucks of the time, and he +would not, if possible, have allowed his precious Dorothy to make the +acquaintance of any of them. + +But then, this was an exceptional case, he said to himself. The young +man had saved his life, and, in doing so, had met with a serious injury. +And it would not have been gracious if, meeting him accidentally so +close to his own house, he had not asked him in. + +Jack, quite innocent of the old gentleman's thoughts, and learning them +only after from the little Quakeress, gladly accepted the invitation. + +He spent an hour with them that evening, and had the satisfaction of +persuading himself that he was not quite unacceptable to the maiden. +He did not fail to perceive that the old gentleman found his company +somewhat irksome, but his motto always was, "Make hay while the sun +shines," and he saw it shining out of the maiden's eyes. + +When he had at last to leave, he did so, assuring the old gentleman that +it would give him the greatest pleasure to call again, and spoke quite +like one who was yielding to an invitation. + +But the old gentleman had given no invitation, and when Jack was gone +he warned his daughter of the danger of having any connection with +gentlemen of Jack's stamp. + +It is not necessary to go over the conversation between father and +daughter, which she subsequently retailed to Jack, and which he repeated +to me. Enough to say, that Jack resolved on calling, and that the old +gentleman finally received him with such coldness, and always alone, +that Jack, except for the glance of the young girl's eye through the +partially drawn curtain of the glass door that separated the living-room +from the shop and counting house, might as well have met him in the +street. He saw there was little use of continuing visits of this kind. + +Whenever Jack entered the shop, he found the fair Dorothy, acting under +her father's orders, escaping from it. He continued, nevertheless, to +correspond with her through the aid of an old domestic, who quickly +discovered the character of the relation between Jack and her young +mistress, and whose almost withered heart had a green spot in it, in +which bloomed the flower of sympathy with the passion of youthful +lovers. + +But this did not satisfy Jack. He longed for a sight of his lady love, +who was kept a close prisoner in the house by her father, who suspected +Jack's intentions, and saw in him a possible robber of his daughter's +affections. + +At length, after a good deal of cogitation, he hit upon the expedient +of adopting the disguise in which I saw him. It was so perfect that his +most intimate friends could not penetrate it, and as he was a first rate +mimic, he never allowed his voice to betray him, and in order to prevent +any possibility of suspicion, he had in his own proper character set +out for Dublin, and when a few days after, he returned disguised to +Kilkenny, it was as an antiquarian who had come down to spend some +weeks there, in studying its ruins. He secured lodgings in the house of +an old lady not far from the Quaker's place of business, which he found +it necessary to visit every day to make some trivial purchase, such as +gloves, hat bands, kerchiefs, etc. + +The old Quaker, suspecting nothing, saw him come in day after day, and +never thought it necessary to ask Dorothy to retire. On the contrary, he +often quitted the shop, leaving Dorothy talking to the clerical looking +old gentleman, and she and Jack continued to have some very agreeable +talk together. + +Jack had urged his suit with considerable success, but he could not +induce the lady to take the only step by which his hopes could be +realised--namely, to run away with him; for it was quite certain the +old man would never consent to his marriage with his daughter. + +Jack had almost begun to despair when he learned that the old gentleman +was about to visit Dublin, accompanied by Dorothy, for the purpose of +attending a private, but very important, meeting of the Society of +Friends in reference to the harsh treatment to which some members of +that body had been subjected by the authorities. + +Jack also learned that they intended to put up at the "Robin Hood," at +which the coach from Kilkenny used to set down, and he took care to +inform the old man that his business in Kilkenny was at an end, and that +he intended to set out for Dublin on the day which the Quaker had fixed +for his journey. The old man, still wholly unsuspicious, expressed +himself delighted that he and his daughter should have him as a +companion on the journey to Dublin, and so it came to pass that they +were fellow-passengers. + +But Jack, although of course, well satisfied with the opportunity of +spending a few hours in the society of Dorothy, had not been able to +hope for anything definite coming from it, and it was chiefly for the +purpose of talking over the matter and getting my advice that he had +asked me to dinner with him. + +I suggested carrying the girl off, and as she liked Jack I did not +hesitate to offer my services. But Jack was adverse to this, as he was +unwilling to do violence to the young lady's feelings. At length, after +talking over all kinds of expedients, Jack, tired after his journey and +somewhat somnolent from his potations, retired to his room, and I made +the best of my way back to college, and awoke next morning to find +myself lying in my clothes on the hearthrug, while my cap and boots and +cane were placed in the nicest order on the quilt of my undisturbed bed. + +It was four of the clock in the afternoon of the next day when I called +again on Jack. He was in pretty good spirits. The old man had gone out +to attend the meeting, and Jack contrived to have an interview with +the maiden, who was nothing loth. But, all the same, he was unable to +get her consent to elope with him, although the opportunity was most +favourable. Still she showed some signs of relenting. Anyway, she no +longer resented the suggestion as something wholly unnatural. + +"The old man has just returned," said Jack to me. "His business here is +concluded, and he intends to start for home to-morrow, and if she does +not give way before then I am afraid I'll either have to give her up or +carry her off." + +Jack could get no other opportunity of speaking to the lady that +evening, and so after dinner he altered his appearance so as to make +himself look less clerical, and we went off to Smock Alley Theatre +together. + +The coach was to set out for Kilkenny at two o'clock the next afternoon, +and I had promised to call on Jack about noon. I had slept almost up to +that hour, when, having hurriedly dressed myself, I rushed off to keep +my appointment, I found the college gate closed and a number of the +students clamouring to get out; but the Dean was standing with his back +to it, flanked at either side by the college porters. + +"What's up?" said I to one of the nearest students. + +"There's an insurrection in the streets. The Ormond and the Liberty Boys +and the butchers are up, and the Viceroy is frightened out of his wits; +and the Lord Mayor won't act and there's general ructions all over the +city." + +I didn't wait to hear any more. I rushed back to my room. The window +was two stories high, but it looked on the street. + +To tie the bedclothes together was the work of a minute. I fastened one +end of the "rope" to the leg of the bed, which was close to the window, +and dropped the other over the window sill. It did not come within +several feet of the ground, and under other circumstances I would have +hesitated to descend it; but a yelling excited crowd was rushing along +the street, and I could hear the hoarse murmur of multitudinous voices +from the direction of the Green and the quays, and, spurred by the +excitement, I slid down the rope, and was caught in the arms of a +stalwart Ormond Boy. + +There was, of course, no love lost between the Ormond Boys and the +students; but my rescuer having deposited me on the ground, pushed +ahead, and I heard him joining in the cry that was rising from a +thousand throats: "To the Parliament House! To the Parliament! To hell +with Rigby! Down with the English!" + +I was almost carried off my feet by the rush of the crowd into College +Green. Here all further progress was arrested. The Green was packed, +and the crowd surged up the steps against the doors of the Houses +of Parliament. Hackney coaches and chairs were overturned in all +directions; but right in front of the entrance to the House of Commons +was the Kilkenny Coach, by which Jack Langrishe's friends were to +travel. + +I pushed my way by the most strenuous efforts up towards this, and just +got beside it to find Jack minus his wig and clerical coat which had +been torn into ribbons, handing out Mistress Dorothy Jacob and her +trembling father. + +"A chair! a chair for the lady!" cried out half a dozen of the +crowd; but the cry was in vain. The chairs were, as I have said, all +overturned, and even if this had not been so, a new excitement had +arisen which had diverted the attention of the crowd from the lady and +turned it on her father. The old gentleman had the misfortune to bear a +striking resemblance to the then member for Maryborough, who was a thick +and thin supporter of the Government, and was believed to be in favour +of merging the Irish in the English Parliament. + +Rigby, who was the Viceroy's secretary, had given notice of a motion in +favour of empowering the Lord Lieutenant to call Parliament together +in certain emergencies without the usual notice, and the people got it +into their heads that this was a clever attempt to pass an Act of Union +without giving them an opportunity of expressing an opinion on the +question. + +It was this fear that had brought them into the streets. They swarmed +from every lane and alley of the Liberties, and they held possession +not only of the Green, but also of all the approaches to it, and some +one amongst them suggested that while they should make way for the +members of Parliament who desired to enter the House that they should +administer an oath to every one of them that he would vote against every +attempt to take away the Parliament. + +The proposition was received with acclamation. The first M.P. who put in +an appearance after it was adopted was Rowley. When called on to take +the oath he at first refused. + +"Pull the wig off of him!" + +"Bring him to the Liffey. Let's wash the English taste off of him!" + +"To hell with Rigby! Down with Bedford!" (Bedford was the Lord +Lieutenant). "Swear him! Swear him!" + +Finding expostulation useless, Rowley took the oath amid deafening +cheers, and was allowed to pass on. + +It was shortly after this incident that the Quaker and his daughter were +taken out of the coach. The coach should have gone down Parliament +Street, but the crowd which had been up at the Castle all the morning, +turned back to the Green on the news that the M.P.s were assembling, and +literally bore it on with them. + +When the likeness between the Quaker and the member for Maryborough was +discovered by one of the crowd, and when his supposed name was called +out---- + +"Swear him! Swear the old thief. Swear him!" was heard on all sides. + +The poor old Quaker, frightened out of his life and trembling in every +limb, could not make head or tail of what was going on. But when at last +one of the crowd produced a Testament, and, thrusting it into the old +man's face, said: "Swear, an' be damned to ye," he answered in a +quavering voice: "Friend, I do not swear!" + +"But you'll have to swear," answered a dozen gruff voices. + +"But he won't have to swear," cried out Jack Langrishe, who was +supporting the lovely Dorothy, and at the same time endeavouring to +afford some protection to her father. + +"And who the devil are you?" shouted out a score of voices. + +"I'm an Irishman, boys, that's going to stand by a young lady and an old +man if all Dublin stood against me." + +"The divel doubt but ye have an Irish heart in ye." + +"He has then." + +"And now," said Jack, encouraged by these remarks, "now listen to me. Ye +are all mistaken. This honest gentleman isn't the man ye take him for at +all." + +"Will you swear that?" + +"Ay, will I." + +"And will you say. 'To hell with Rigby and the Union?'" + +"With all my heart," said Jack. For Jack, like most of us young fellows +in those days, thought an Irish Parliament was worth fighting and worth +dying for. + +"You are a True-blue and no mistake. Let the old gentleman go," came in +chorus from the crowd. + +I had got up close to Jack and his fair charge. With a knowing look to +me and a word of explanation to her, he asked me to take care of her, +and then he put his arm inside that of the old man, who still seemed +half dazed with fright. We endeavoured to make our way towards the +railing, and hoped to be able to slip back to the "Robin Hood." + +But the crowd kept surging round us, and it grew more excited every +minute. + +"Who's in the carriage? Out with him--out with him!" + +The cry was occasioned by a carriage that was endeavouring to force its +way towards the entrance of the House. + +In the press, Jack, myself, and our charges were borne towards it. + +An old gentleman, with a periwig tied with red ribbon, put his head out +through the window. + +"Damn you, who are you? Why do you hesitate?" yelled the angry crowd. + +The gentleman made an effort to speak. + +"Oh, he stutters; give him time, boys." + +"Come now, old stutterin' Bob, who are you?" + +"I--I'm Lord In--Inchiquin, b-b-boys! O'B--Brien's my n-name!" + +"A cheer for him, boys, he's all right. Pass in, your lordship, an' good +luck to ye." + +And as Lord Inchiquin passed in we endeavoured to follow in his wake. + +But another shout arose and the crowd was swaying like a tumultuous sea. + +"He's the Lord Chancellor!--the bloody English Chancellor, ould Bowes! +Swear him, boys, swear him! Out with ye, and take the oath." + +The disgusted Chancellor had no option but to comply, and having done +so, was passing on towards the House. + +"Don't let him go," cried out one who appeared to possess some authority +with the crowd; "hold on to him. Here's the Chief Justice, and we'll +make ould Bowes take oath before him." + +This proposition delighted the crowd, and they hauled "ould" Bowes back +and confronted him with the Chief Justice. + +"Swear before the Chief Justice, ye ould English naygur, that you won't +take our Parliament over to England," and again the luckless Chancellor +was compelled to swear. + +"Here's ould Anthiny Malone, boys. Oh! ould Tony, are you there? Tony +the great "Patriot" that was agin the Government till they stopped your +mouth with a pension. Oh, ye're there, Tony! Swear him, boys; swear +him!" + +"Hould on till I shake hands with ye, Tony," cried out another of the +ringleaders, as he dipped his hand in the kennel and then thrust it +into that of the "Patriot." + +"Ye might call it dirty, Tony, I suppose, but it's not half as dirty as +yer own since ye handled the Government goold." + +This sally was received with shouts of delight. + +"Be the holy! who's that? It's ould Prendergast!" + +The exclamation was caused by the appearance of a face out of the House +of Lords. It was that of Sir Thomas Prendergast, who was very obnoxious +to the people. He only peeped out to see what was going on, but before +he could pull back he was caught by the nose and led out to the kennel, +and was rolled and rolled again until he was all mud from head to foot. + +"Let's go inside, boys. What do we want stoppin' here?" was then blurted +out by one of the ringleaders, but the crowd which had rushed up to the +House of Lords when Prendergast showed himself had already begun to make +its way in, and soon the whole of it began to set in that direction. +The only thing for Jack and myself was to allow ourselves to be carried +along with it. Dorothy clung to my arm with feverish anxiety. As for the +old man he seemed as if he were scared out of his wits. + +Rough as the crowd was it endeavoured to avoid the lady. Still she +must have suffered considerably as we squeezed through the doorway. We +arrived to find the seats of the House of Lords in possession of the +mob, and the Peers crowding up behind the chair. + +Lord Farnham was in the act of taking the oath, in succession to his +father, who had recently died, when the crowd broke in and interrupted +the ceremony. + +"You must take the oath from us!--you must take the oath from us!" + +The rush of the crowd and the angry cries completely nonplussed the new +lord. He looked helplessly at the Chancellor and at his brother Peers, +and hardly knowing what he did, he followed the words of the oath as +administered to him by one of the ringleaders of the mob. + +This performance provoked loud plaudits. Then for want of something +else to do, the crowd began to stand on the seats and tables, and force +themselves up towards the chair. The Chancellor and the other peers and +some ladies had retreated behind the throne. + +"Oh! there's Biddy Simpson--there's Biddy, boys!" + +"Arrah, where else wud I be, thin?" replied Biddy, who was an old lady +well known for the sharpness of her tongue in the Ormond Market. + +"Put Biddy in the chair, boys! Put Biddy in the chair!" and amidst +ringing cheers Miss Biddy Simpson was placed in the chair. + +"Pipes and tobacco, pipes and tobacco, for Biddy Simpson!" + +The pipes were got, and Biddy stuck one in her mouth and lit it amid +frantic yells, and the crowd began to indulge in all kinds of antics. +Snatches of songs and speeches, interlarded with oaths, were only half +heard in the din. It was a motley crowd. Peers, members of the House of +Commons, University students, and half the men and women from the +Liberties, and some ladies who had come down to see Lord Farnham take +the oath, were all mixed up in the wildest disorder. + +How long this was likely to go on no one could surmise, when suddenly +one of the ringleaders cried out: + +"Let's burn the records! Let's burn the records! To the House of +Commons!--To the House of Commons!" + +The cry was taken up and the crowd began to force its way out and make +for the House of Commons. + +"Are ye goin' to desert me, ye thieves, afther ye made a lord o' me?" +shouted Biddy, but the crowd had found a new purpose, and emptied out of +the House of Lords as quickly as it had poured into it. + +But for nearly an hour after, Jack and I and old Jacob and Dorothy +remained where we were, and then, when the military, acting on the +orders of the Lord Lieutenant, had partially cleared the streets--for +the Lord Mayor had refused to interfere with the people--we made our +way, not without some difficulty, to the "Robin Hood." + +Dorothy, for all her mild manners, was a brave little woman, and +appeared little the worse of the ordeal through which she had passed. + +Not so with her father. He was almost prostrated from fright and +excitement. Jack persuaded him to take some brandy, and this restored +him a little. + +When he was able to collect himself sufficiently to speak, he caught +Jack's hand, and he said in the simplest tone: + +"Friend, this is the second time I owe thee my life, and now I also owe +thee my daughter's." + +I thought it would be just as well if I came away, and so it proved, +for on that very night when I was sitting down at the fire in my room +thinking over the events of the day, the door was suddenly flung open, +and in rushed Jack Langrishe. + +"Old fellow, I'm the luckiest dog in the world!" + +And I think he was, for the old man had at last given his consent, and +Jack Langrishe found in Dorothy Jacob one of the sweetest and best +little wives in the whole of Ireland. + + + + +MY FIRST CASE. + + +I had just been admitted a solicitor, and had been induced to start +practice, or, rather, to look for it, in a town in one of the midland +counties, where I had been persuaded there was a good opening for an +attorney, the name by which members of my profession were then generally +known. It was in the good old days before examinations became the stiff +ordeals that they have been for many years, and I must confess that my +attendance in the office where I was supposed to be serving my time was +not as regular as it might have been. However, with a fair share of +assurance, which the old clerk in my master's office impressed on me was +the chief secret of success, I opened my office, put a brass plate on +the door, and installed as my clerk a young fellow of twenty-one or +thereabouts, who had had some slight experience in the business of a +country office. Day followed day, and the hoped for client never came. +My clerk spent the time writing text--"this indenture," and "whereas," +and other important words, which would figure in the deeds he expected +one day to be called on to engross--but he at least had the satisfaction +of drawing a salary, not a very large one, it is true, but it was +something. As for me, I confess I was beginning to get heartily weary of +waiting, and to feel almost ashamed of the brass plate on the door. + +Sometimes a step sounding in the hall would set my heart fluttering; +but this only announced a lady who wanted to know did we want eggs, or +cabbage, or other articles of commerce. This, of course, was dreadfully +disappointing; still, it was consoling to know that someone had found +the house. + +It was more assuring when one or two came in to know if "Torney Brown +was in," although that was the name of a rival practitioner long +established in the town. It gave my clerk the opportunity of stating, in +impressive tones, "No, this is 'Torney Malone's office," which he and I +flattered ourselves was an excellent advertisement, and would some day +have good results. Then came one day, a long, gawky-looking countryman +to know when the Quarter Sessions were coming on, and what time had he +for issuing a process. This was downright cheering. I asked him into my +own office and made him sit down. I wrote out the date of the sessions +and the last day for service on a sheet of notepaper with my address +printed on it at the top. This induced him to tell me his case, in +which, I need not say, I became deeply interested. It was a simple +case of trover of a saddle, but I think I made as much out of it as +if it were a question involving a thousand pounds. I examined and +cross-examined him, like, I persuaded myself, an old hand, and felt +certain that I had deeply impressed my client, for so I loved to think +him. At last apparently satisfied, he rose to go. + +"Well, good evenin' to ye now, yer honour, and good luck, and myself +'ill come again before Thursday," as he moved towards the door. + +Then he hesitated for a second, and looking back he asked: + +"Aren't you 'Torney Brown, yer honour?" + +I felt nettled, but controlling myself said quietly: + +"No, I'm Mr. Malone, as you'll see by the notepaper you have in your +hand." + +He looked a little sheepishly at the notepaper, and then said as he +moved off: + +"Well, yer a very civil gentleman, anyhow." + +Thursday came, but my client did not turn up. The sessions day came, and +although I had no business I thought I ought to put in an appearance in +court. Amongst the first cases called was that in which my client, as +I have called him, was plaintiff--his attorney was Mr. Brown. I fear I +went back to my office in rather better humour that I otherwise would +have done, when the barrister, as the County Court Judge was called +then, dismissed the case, and with costs, against "my client." + +After this, weeks passed and no one came near the office, and I began +to long even for the step of the vegetable woman, but towards dusk one +October evening, just as I was about thinking of leaving the office, +where I had been sitting before the fire whiling away the time with +a novel, my clerk came in with a gleeful face to inform me that a +gentleman desired to see me on legal business. My heart jumped into my +mouth. I quickly hid the novel, put on my most professional appearance, +seated myself at my desk, began to write, and was so engaged when the +gentleman was shown in. + +He was a man, I should say of five and forty, and had all the appearance +of a country gentleman. I handed him a chair, which he took, and asked +him what I could do for him. + +His business was quickly explained. His aunt, an old lady, who resided +with him, was dying, and desired to make her will. She wished to leave +everything to her nephew--the gentleman who was consulting me, and who +gave his name as Mr. George Ralph Jephson, "but my aunt calls me Ralph," +he added. "So I suppose," he said, "it will not take you much time to +prepare a will leaving everything to me? I should wish you, also, to +come out with me and witness the execution of it. I suppose your clerk +could come also?" + +I replied that I would prepare the will according to his instructions in +a few moments. I took down the name of the intending testatrix and his +own information as to the nature of her property. Half a dozen lines +were quite sufficient to dispose of it, as it was all to go, without any +reservation or condition, to the one person. I got my clerk to make out +a clean copy, and when this was done, he and I, and Mr. Jephson got into +the latter's dog cart, which a small boy was holding outside the office +door. + +Of Mr. Jephson I knew nothing, save that he had recently taken the house +and demesne of Longfield, which had been untenanted for many years, +owing to a tragedy that had taken place there, and it was said that he +had come from Dorsetshire. His house was about nine miles outside the +town, but the road was good and the horse a fast goer, and we did it in +a little over the hour. A short, winding avenue led up to the house, +which looked gloomy, as the only light visible escaped through the +fanlight over the door. + +This, when he pulled up, was opened in answer to Mr. Jephson's knock +by an old, rather slatternly woman. He showed my clerk and me into the +dining-room, where a bright fire was burning, and, requesting us to be +seated, said he would go up to see if the lady were ready to receive us. +He returned in a few moments, ushered us up the stairs, and, turning +down the right corridor pushed in a door that was not fastened. + +The room, which was not over-well furnished for so pretentious a house, +was lighted by two candles. On a bed raised not more than a foot from +the ground, and placed in a corner behind the door, lay a woman of +at least seventy years old. She was very small, and her face had a +very gentle expression, and, notwithstanding her advanced age, was +wonderfully fair, and had but very few wrinkles. Her eyes were still +bright, and it was evident she must have been a very pretty girl. + +There was no one else in the room save Mr. Jephson, the clerk, and +myself, and the door was closed. I produced the draft will and said, +addressing myself to the lady: + +"You wish to make your will?" + +"Yes; oh, yes." + +"And you wish to leave everything to your nephew?" + +"Yes, to Ralph--to Rafy--everything." + +"Then please listen, madam, while I read this, it is very short." + +"Bring the candle nearer your face and let me look at you," she said. + +The request surprised me, but I could not well refuse it. + +"No, no, you are not like him, my----Rafy; but he had blue eyes like +yours----blue eyes, and you could see the gold glint in his hair." + +This speech perplexed me. Mr. George Ralph Jephson, who was standing +in the shadow behind me, although inclined very much to grey now, had +evidently had very dark hair, while his eyes were of a deep, almost dark +grey. + +"May I read the will?" + +"Is everything given to Rafy?" + +"Yes; listen---- + +"I, Eleanor Glasson, devise and bequeath all the property, real and +personal, I die seized and possessed of, or to which I may become +entitled to in expectancy, reversion, or remainder, to my dear nephew, +George Ralph Jephson."---- + +"Say to Rafy; write Rafy. Will not that do?" interrupted the old lady +in a tone of mingled tenderness and eagerness. + +"But I had better put in his full name," I said. + +"Well, then, read it again." + +I read. + +"Not George! Ralph--Rafy. It is to Rafy." + +"You see, she never called me George," said Mr. Jephson, in a low voice, +"tell her it is all right." + +Before I could reply, the old woman said: + +"Let me look at you again," and she laid her hand in mine. "Bend down +and let me look into your eyes. Ay, they are like Rafy's blue eyes. Will +you let me kiss you for his sake?" and she put up her little wasted +hands against my cheeks and kissed me. "I knew you wouldn't wrong Rafy, +would you?" + +"No, no," said I, much touched and somewhat confused, and then turning +to Mr. Jephson, I said, "There must be something wrong." + +"Perhaps you had better come downstairs with me and I'll explain," said +Mr. Jephson in, I thought, a slightly agitated tone. + +We went to the dining-room, and Mr. Jephson having carefully closed the +door, stood with one elbow resting on the fireplace, and addressed me. + +"Over thirty years ago a cousin of mine, another nephew of Miss +Glasson's, whose name was Ralph, and of whom she was passionately +fond, eloped with a girl beneath his position, and his father proving +unforgiving the young couple went to the United States. A short time +after arriving there the news of his death by drowning came home. It +nearly broke my aunt's heart, for she had favoured the marriage out +of her love for Ralph, and now seemed to think she was in some way +responsible for his death. For a time she was bereft of her senses and +was under surveillance; when she recovered she seemed to give her whole +affection to me, and insisted on my dropping the name of George and +calling myself Ralph, which I am entitled to do, as it is my second +name. At times she used to speak of him to me and only to me, and she +used to talk of the difference between his eyes and mine; of late she +very often speaks of him, and, as is often the way of old people, +forgets he is dead, but I am the only Ralph in the family now, and it +is to me that she intends to leave what she has." + +"I should like to talk to the lady by myself if you see no objection," +I said. + +"I fear it would only excite her," he replied, with a faint suggestion +of annoyance. "I have told you everything she can tell. She is ready to +sign the will if you will witness it." + +"But if, as you say, she believes the other Ralph is still alive it +appears to me it is to him she desires to leave the property." + +"If that is your opinion and you will not accept my statement, I suppose +there is no more to be said," he answered rather gruffly. + +I rose to go and signalled to my clerk. + +"You will let me offer you a glass of wine," he said; "and I should be +glad if you will stay and dine with me. Your drive home is a pretty long +one." + +I accepted the wine and some biscuits, as did also my clerk, and then, +when I declared we were ready for the road, Mr. Jephson said he would +drive us himself. + +I thought it was rather strange he did not offer to send the coachman, +as he had himself already covered the road twice that day. But as he and +I sat in the dog-cart in front he volunteered an explanation. He did not +wish, he said, his servants to know too much about his business. But +this appeared to me rather a curious explanation. There was nothing +about the business that required concealment, I said to myself. + +"And that is the reason why I wished you to bring your clerk with you. +I like to have discreet people, and not babblers about me, and I always +make it a point whenever I can to employ professional men." + +This was intended, no doubt, as flattering, and I fear I was not above +being pleased with it. I knew after that it was also intended as a hint +that he expected I would not speak about the business which had taken me +to Longfield. + +When we arrived at my office he offered me a fee of five guineas; but I +refused this on the ground that the business in which he had employed me +had come to nothing. Saying good-night in a cordial way Mr. Jephson +drove away. + +It would seem as if this case brought me luck. The very next day a +defendant in a rather bad assault case came in to engage my services. +I appeared for him at the Petty Sessions and made what, I flattered +myself, was a very good defence. Anyhow, he was acquitted, and I had the +satisfaction of reading in the local paper, the "Midland Gazette," "that +the ingenious defence and the brilliant speech made by Mr. Malone on +behalf of the accused proves that he is a valuable acquisition to our +local Bar." + +After this, business began to come in pretty rapidly, but, to my regret, +my clerk, who was very anxious to settle in Dublin, got the chance of a +situation in the then well-known firm of solicitors in Dame Street, +Messrs. Wrexham & Co. I gave him, as he deserved, an excellent +character, which procured the place for him. + +He had left me about a month, and something like two months had elapsed +since Mr. Jephson's visit, when I read in the obituary column of +the "Irish Times" the announcement of the death of Miss Glasson, of +Longfield House, Co. ----. I had, of course, often thought of the little +old woman of the sweet face and the undying love for Ralph of the blue +eyes, and I began to wonder if she had made any will and, if so, who +was the legatee. But, after all, the matter was one in which I had no +concern, yet I felt gratified somehow, that she did not execute the will +which, acting on Mr. Jephson's instructions, I had prepared for her. I +addressed myself to my increasing business and the matter soon passed +from my mind. + +Some weeks after this announcement in the "Times," my clerk one day +brought a card into my private office, saying:-- + +"The gentleman desires to see you, sir." + +I looked at the card. "Mr. Wrexham." It was the name of the solicitor to +whom my first clerk had gone. + +"Show him in," I said. + +Mr. Wrexham, after a courteous salute, took the proffered chair and +plunged into business at once. + +"You are doubtless aware," he said, "that Miss Glasson died at Longfield +House a short time ago?" + +I nodded assent. + +"She was very wealthy; left about £30,000. The whole goes by her will, +to her nephew, John Ralph Jephson. My firm has, however, been instructed +by Mrs. Ralph Jephson, the widow of another nephew who died two years +ago----" + +"Two years ago?" I exclaimed. + +"Yes--we have been instructed by her to contest the will on the ground +of undue influence. We have accordingly entered a _caveat_, but, to be +frank with you, I fear we have not much evidence to go on. We know that +the late Miss Glasson entertained a very strong affection for Ralph +Jephson, and always intended to make him her devisee and legatee--she +had no power to dispose of her property except by will--but she was +living with her nephew, George Ralph Jephson, and had been bedridden for +some time. He kept away every other relative from his house. He took +this place in Ireland, brought her hither, and it was not until +the announcement of her death that her other relatives knew of her +whereabouts. It chanced that your late clerk was given the draft +_caveat_ to make a clean copy of it for lodgment in the office of the +Court, and the name attracting his attention he mentioned to my head +clerk the scene he had witnessed in Miss Glasson's room. The clerk +related the story to me, and that accounts for my presence here to-day. +I fear," added Mr. Wrexham, after a pause, "that a fraud has been +perpetrated, and that the will for which probate is sought does not +express the wishes of the deceased lady." + +"Who prepared and witnessed the will?" I asked. + +"A solicitor and his clerk." + +"And the solicitor?" + +"A young fellow named Devaney; he lives in the next county--do you know +him?" + +"He was admitted as a solicitor the same time as I." + +"Mr. Jephson seems to have a preference for young practitioners," said +Mr. Wrexham, with a smile, and he added: "Do you happen to know anything +about Devaney?" + +"Well, I have heard he does little business, and he is, I fear, addicted +to drink. Otherwise he is a good fellow." + +"Just the kind of man to be made the innocent instrument of a fraud; and +now I feel certain that a fraud has been committed on the poor lady who +is dead and on the relatives whom she wished to benefit, and, of course, +your evidence is all-important. I could, of course, have written and +sent you a subpoena, but I thought it more courteous to wait on you +myself. The case is listed for the day after to-morrow, when I hope it +will be convenient for you to be in Dublin." + +I confess I should have preferred that my evidence were dispensed +with, but I had no doubt that in some way or other a fraud had been +perpetrated, and the sweet face and the recollection of the poor dead +lady's trust in me appealed irresistibly to me. + +When the case came on I saw for the first time the widow of Ralph +Jephson. Beside her sat her daughter. She was rather _petite_, +exceedingly pretty, and her face bore an unmistakeable likeness to her +dead grand-aunt. I was taken with her at once, and, I must confess, I +found it very difficult to keep my eyes away from the quarter where she +was seated. + +The evidence against the validity of the will was, except mine and my +clerk's, very slight. It was deposed to by the servants who had been in +the employment of the deceased that she always spoke of making Ralph +Jephson her sole heir, but these servants had left the employment more +than two years ago. They had to admit, on cross-examination, that Mr. +George Ralph Jephson was sometimes called Ralph, but they denied that +they had ever heard the testatrix so describe him. + +I deposed to what I have already stated, but I was unable to say that I +considered the testatrix had not testamentary capacity. I could only say +I believed she wished to leave her property to Ralph, and not to George +Ralph, Jephson. + +This brought the judge down on me, and he asked me why, if that was so, +I didn't carry out her intentions? That it was my duty to do so. I had +not seen it in that light, and felt very uncomfortable as I left the +witness-box. + +Then came the witnesses for the defence. Mr. George Ralph Jephson swore +his aunt had habitually called him Ralph; that occasionally she called +him George; and had frequently promised to leave him everything, and +that it was by her directions he went on both occasions for a solicitor. +What he told Mr. Malone about his cousin Ralph was, he believed, true, +and he was surprised to learn now for the first time that he had not +been drowned, as was reported, and had only recently died. + +Then came a servant whom I recognised as the woman who had opened the +door for me. She wore mourning, and scarcely lifted her veil as she +kissed the book. She gave her evidence nervously, and she began by +explaining that she was never in a courthouse before. She swore she +attended deceased, and that the latter had frequently said that she +would leave everything to her nephew, Mr. George Ralph Jephson; that +sometimes deceased--but that was only lately, a few weeks before she +died--rambled about little Rafy, as she called him, that was drowned. +As far as she could judge, the lady was in her right mind. + +Mr. Devaney, solicitor, proved that he attended with a will prepared on +the directions of Mr. Jephson, and which left everything to him. He had +never seen testatrix before. He had no reason to doubt that she knew +what she was doing. He read the will slowly for her. It was very short, +and she said she understood it thoroughly, and she added that she wished +to leave everything she had in the world to her nephew there, pointing, +as she did so, to Mr. Jephson, who was standing at the side of the bed +near witness. + +Mr. Devaney's clerk gave similar evidence, and it appeared as if there +was no more to be said. But Mr. Daunt, Q.C., who had let the previous +witnesses off, I thought, rather easily, proceeded to cross-examine the +clerk very closely. + +"You had never seen the testatrix before, I suppose?" + +"Never." + +"But you took a good look at her when you did see her?" + +"Well, I looked, of course, but I did not notice her very much--there +was not very much light." + +"Oh! there was not very much light," said Mr. Daunt, steadying his +spectacles and fixing his gaze on the clerk. "How much light?" + +"One candle." + +"Only one candle when the testatrix was making her mark! Was that the +reason she gave for not signing her name in full?" + +"No. She said when Mr. Devaney asked her if she would sign her name, +that she did not know how to write, but that she thought her mark would +do." + +"Did not know how to write!" interrupted the judge. "I thought testatrix +was a lady of position." + +"So she was, my lord," said Mr. Daunt. + +"And did you take particular notice of the testatrix?" said counsel, +addressing the witness. + +"Well, not particular. I mean, I did not notice very much of her; but I +noticed her hand and her finger when she was making her mark." + +"Oh, you did! Tell the Court and the jury what you noticed," said Mr. +Daunt, catching the edges of his gown and pulling them forward. + +"I noticed that her hands were very coarse for a lady, I thought, my +lord," said the witness looking up towards the judge. "And I saw that +her forefinger had a deep mark along it, as if it had been badly cut or +crushed some time or other." + +"Come," said Mr. Daunt, leaning forward and looking the clerk full in +the face. "Do you think you would know the testatrix if you saw her +again?" + +A buzz of excitement ran through the crowd. + +"If I saw her again? Sure she's dead." + +"Sure she's dead," said Mr. Daunt, echoing him; "but if she wasn't, do +you think you could recognise her?" + +"I think I might." + +"And if you saw the hand and the finger would you recognise them?" + +"I would." + +"Are you sure of that?" + +"I--I--well, I am sure. I believe I would." + +"But Mr. Daunt," put in the judge, "this is an extraordinary course you +are taking. The plea you have put in on behalf of your client is undue +influence." + +"Quite so, my lord; but the case is an extraordinary one, and I ask your +lordship to bear with me for a moment in the interests of justice." + +The judge nodded. + +"My lord," continued Mr. Daunt, "would your lordship be good enough to +request the witness, Agnes Marvel," that was the name of the servant who +had been examined--"to come forward?" + +"But, my lord," said Mr. Star, Q.C., who was on the opposite side, +"this is quite irregular. My learned friend had an opportunity of +cross-examining Agnes Marvel when she was in the witness-box." + +"I shall call her forward, and then, if Mr. Daunt puts any question to +which you take exception, I shall be happy to hear you, Mr. Star." + +"Thank you, my lord," said Mr. Star, as he resumed his seat. + +"I do not intend to ask any questions," said Mr. Daunt. "So my learned +friend need not have been in such a hurry to interpose." + +"Come forward, Agnes Marvel!" said the crier. + +The woman came and stood near the clerk who was giving evidence. + +"Lift up your veil, madam," said Mr. Daunt. + +She did so with trembling hands which were encased in black cotton +gloves. + +"Now, will you be good enough to remove your gloves." + +"What is the meaning of this?" said Mr. Star, Q.C., jumping up. + +"My lord, I make this request on my responsibility as counsel." + +"Where is the objection, Mr. Star?" said the judge. + +The woman removed her gloves. Her face as she did so became deathly +white, and without a word of warning she fell back, and would have +fallen on the witness-table if the crier, who was standing near her, +had not caught her in his arms. + +There were cries of "Water!" and "Take her out into the air!" + +"Perhaps, my lord," said Mr. Star, "an adjournment of the court would be +agreeable, as it is near luncheon time." + +"What do you say to that, Mr. Daunt?" asked the judge. + +"May I ask the witness one more question, my lord." + +"Yes." + +"Did you, witness, see that woman's hand?" + +"Yes." + +"Was that the hand that signed the will?" + +"I believe so." + +The excitement in court was now intense. + +"I think," said the judge, "we should go on. Bring in that woman if she +has recovered," he continued, addressing a policeman. + +The woman was brought in. + +"Now," said the judge, turning towards Mr. Daunt, "you may repeat your +question; but first let me warn this woman. Agnes Marvel?" + +"Yes, my lord." + +"The question which counsel is now about to put concerns you. Listen to +it." + +Mr. Daunt repeated the question, and the clerk answered it as before. + +"Do you think you could recognise the features?" + +"Now that I look at them I believe I do; but I won't be positive." + +"My lord," said Mr. Daunt, "may I recall Mr. Malone?" + +"For what, Mr. Daunt?" + +"That he may describe the appearance of the lady whom he saw----" + +"My lord! my lord!" interrupted Agnes Marvel, "if ye promise not to hang +me I'll tell the truth. 'Twas I signed the will--'twas I signed it, and +there's the man that tempted me," and she pointed to where Mr. George +Ralph Jephson had been seated, but in the excitement he had succeeded in +escaping. + +There is no need to pursue the narrative further. Suffice it to say that +the false will was set aside, and luckily, one made some years previous, +and which was in the custody of a solicitor in England, was forthcoming. +By this all the property of the late Miss Glasson was bequeathed in +trust to Ralph Jephson and his children in equal portions should he +predecease testatrix. The whole, therefore, fell to Miss Blanche +Jephson. + +But it may be interesting to state that Mr. Daunt was as much surprised +at the _denouement_ as anyone else. He had intended to put only a few +questions to Mr. Devaney's clerk as a matter of form, but the statement +of the latter that the testatrix had said she had never written a line +in her life aroused his curiosity, and when the clerk described the +finger of testatrix a light suddenly flashed on his mind that made his +way clear. With the acuteness and habit which come from long practice, +he had taken note of the witness, Agnes Marvel, as she came to the stand +to take the oath. She had, of course, to remove the glove from her right +hand before taking the book in it, and he saw the disfigurement of the +forefinger. Seeing that he had no case otherwise, he determined to +hazard everything on the chance that Agnes Marvel had signed the will +and not Miss Glasson. + + + + +A VISION OR A DREAM + + +I never had a decided opinion one way or the other on the subject of +ghosts--that is to say, I was never able to affirm my belief in them, +nor was I willing, on the other hand, to deny that occasionally they +visited the glimpses of the moon. Nothing, however, would induce me +to spend a night in a churchyard, and indeed, it would cost me a +considerable effort to pass by one on a country road after nightfall if +I chanced to be alone. The fact is, I suffered for many years, and from +my earliest childhood from the effects of a morbid imagination. I had, +when little over six years old, received a terrible shock by the suicide +of a neighbour. I had often seen him pass by the door of the house in +which we lived. He was, as well as I remember, an engineer, and he had a +rather peculiar cast of countenance, which had made a deep impression on +me. I did not see him lying dead, but I followed a crowd mainly composed +of women which attended the coffin, as it was being borne on the +shoulders of four men, to the house of the deceased. When the coffin was +taken inside the door the crowd remained for a long time outside, and of +course the fatal deed formed the sole topic of conversation. I was close +to three or four women who were listening to another who was giving +a most graphic description of the manner in which the unhappy man +had taken his life. The details were probably the offspring of her +imagination, but they sank into my mind and the recollection of them +cost me hours and nights of the bitterest agony--an agony indeed, +impossible to describe. I have not forgotten them yet, though close on +half a century has passed away. + +I was, as I have mentioned, only about six years old at the time, and I +was sent to bed every night about eight o'clock. I slept at the top of +the house, and in the same room one of the servants also slept. I have +no recollection of having, prior to the time I speak of, felt any fear +when left alone in the room in the dark, but the night on which I heard +the account of the suicide was to open a new experience for me, and to +leave a mark upon my mind and character which has never been wholly +effaced. + +I remember well, as if it were only last night, hearing the footfalls of +the servant as she descended the stairs after having put me to bed. I +can remember, too, the noises in the street, the sound of feet and the +voices talking, when suddenly in the dark, and close to my face, I saw +the face of the dead man! I have purposely omitted the details of the +suicide, nor do I wish to describe here the face as I saw it. Let it +suffice to say that it was exactly in the condition as described by the +woman in the crowd. It was the peculiar face which I had been accustomed +to see, only hideously marred by wounds. + +I screamed as it came close to me--screamed as if my life was in my +throat--screamed and screamed, but no help came. I was at the top of a +high house and the door was closed. I covered my head with the clothes +until I was almost smothered. I closed my eyes fast to shut out the +horrid sight as I hoped, but only to see it more clearly. Sometimes +the face, while preserving the likeness to the peculiar face of the +engineer, as I was wont to see it when he was alive, seemed to spread +itself out and then contract, and every lineament of it seemed to be in +convulsive motion. The pressure of the clothes and the suffocating heat +forced me at length to lift them up, and again I screamed--screamed like +a wild animal in agony. At last I was heard. Someone came quickly up the +stairs. The door was flung open, and the candle lighted. It was the +servant. + +"My God! What's the matter?" she exclaimed, as she saw me trembling as +if I were in a fit and covered with perspiration. + +I tried to explain as well as I could, and she endeavoured to soothe me. +She remained by my side until I fell into a disturbed sleep. And for +months after she, by the doctor's orders, who was called in next day, +sat in the room until I slept. And for many years, until I became almost +a man, I never ventured to sleep except in a lighted room. + +But whenever I was alone, either at night time, or at day time, I was +liable to see the faces such as I have since read in De Quincey's volume +haunt the dreams of opium eaters. I have often started back shuddering +from these faces, which have appeared suddenly in front of me when going +by myself along a country road, even in the broad noon-day, when the sun +was shining. And when people often expressed surprise that I never could +be induced to visit a wake-house, they little knew that I could do so +only at the price of being haunted for months by what I saw there, +whenever I found myself alone. + +I have narrated all this chiefly because it may serve in some degree to +account for the phenomena which I witnessed under the circumstances I am +about to describe. + +About twenty years ago I paid a long promised visit to a friend, Gerald +F----, who then lived in one of the counties bordering on Dublin, but +who has since died. + +He was engaged to be married to a very handsome girl, a Miss R----, whom +he had met in London, but who was residing with her aunt not many miles +from Creeve house, my friend's residence. The wedding was to take place +a few months subsequent to my visit. The marriage promised to be full of +happiness. The girl was as gracious as she was beautiful, and my friend +Gerald was in every way worthy of her. Both were very well off. The +girl, an orphan, had been well provided for by her parents, and had +large expectations from her aunt. The young couple were deeply in love +with each other, and Gerald was constantly driving over to her aunt's +residence, and often took his fiancée for a drive through the charming +country roads. + +My visit was made in compliance with a promise which I had made long +before the engagement took place, and which Gerald had frequently +reminded me of. I came down to him not knowing of the engagement, and so +when I heard the news I could not help remarking to him that my visit +was rather ill-timed. But Gerald replied that he was delighted to see +his old friend and to be able to talk over his own good fortune with +him, and talk he did, I must say, to his heart's content. But one day he +said he feared he was boring me when we were together, and that I must, +on the other hand, find it rather dull to be left alone, as I often was, +when he was away in the company of his fiancée. + +I interrupted him by saying that I rejoiced in his happiness and to hear +him speak of it, and that as I loved the country and was fond of books I +was able to pass my time very pleasantly in the glorious summer weather +we were having. + +And the time undoubtedly slipped away very agreeably, until one evening, +about three weeks after my arrival, I was reclining on the lawn in front +of the house under the shadow of a fine ash that flung its branches over +the little rippling stream that wound through the lawn, and thinking +myself as happy as Horace used to be in a similar situation, when the +sound of a very fast galloping horse came suddenly down the avenue. + +I had barely time to turn round when the horse pulled up before the +hall-door, and I saw it was Gerald's trap, and that he, white as a +sheet, had one arm twined round Miss R----'s waist, with her head +resting against his breast. I rushed up, and the look of unutterable +agony in Gerald's eyes satisfied me, without even the sight of the blood +upon Miss R----'s face, that a terrible tragedy had occurred. + +Of course the first thing to be done was to remove the lady into the +house. This was done, and the doctor was at once sent for, although the +slightest observation satisfied us all that his services were of no +avail. The poor girl was dead! + +Gerald was at first too distracted to be able to give a coherent account +of what had happened; but when he was calm enough to speak the story was +soon told. + +He and Miss R---- were driving together past Creveen Wood when a shot +was fired. The lady was on the side from which it was fired, and she was +struck and killed instantly. The horse, frightened by the report, had +galloped on frantically making for home. Gerald made no attempt to stay +it, as his sole thought was the wounded girl who had fallen beside him. +Fortunately the gate leading into the avenue was open, and it was a +pretty wide one, and the horse galloped through it without coming in +contact with the piers. + +The doctor arrived, and he was followed by the police, word having been +sent to the neighbouring barrack. The former was, of course, no use, +and the latter, after having heard what Gerald had to say went off to +the plantation, but were unable to find any trace that would help them +in the discovery of the assassin. + +I need not dwell upon the details of the funeral, or upon Gerald's +condition of mind, or the terrible sad nights which followed that of +the tragedy. I remained up for several nights with Gerald, and indeed, +nearly exhausted myself. The doctor, however, at last insisted that I +should have some rest, and about a week after the dreadful occurrence I +withdrew to my own room for the night. + +I tried to sleep the moment I got into bed, but sleep kept away from me. +I had put out the light and was tossing from side to side, when right in +the dark in front of me was outlined a face! The strain upon my nerves +had brought back the old haunting visions! The suddenness with which it +appeared and its closeness startled me and brought the old dread back to +me, although it was many years since I had suffered and I had become +very strong. + +There was nothing objectionable in the face. It was that of a young +man about eight and twenty, and it bore something more than a faint +resemblance to that of my friend Gerald. I tried instinctively the trick +of closing my eyes, but only to see it, if possible more clearly, but as +I looked at it, it began to recede from me, and to fall back towards the +wall. Then I perceived that it was no longer only a face that presented +itself; there was the figure of a man. He was dressed in dark grey +tweed, rather the worse of wear, and looked like one who had received a +military training. I had never seen the face before, but this did not +surprise me, as my imagination had been wont to play me curious tricks +in this way. + +I began to think of other men whom I had known, and to bring their faces +before me in the hope of blotting this one out, which, as I have said, +caused me to feel as in the old nights of terror I was wont to feel, but +just as I appeared to be on the point of succeeding the vision became +more vivid, and again advanced up to the bedside, and then I noticed +that in its right hand it carried a gun. Soon after it vanished, and I +fell into a tolerably sound sleep, and slept late into the next day. + +In about a fortnight after, Gerald, whom I had scarcely ever left except +at bedtime, was coming to himself, and I found I could go out for an +occasional stroll. And one day my steps involuntarily turned in the +direction of Creveen Wood. Nothing had in the meantime turned up to +elucidate the mystery. A reward had been offered, but no information was +forthcoming, and all hope of discovery was abandoned. + +I had come close to the plantation without being aware of it, but on +recognising it I made an effort to turn back, but I was prevented doing +so by an irresistible impulse which drove me forward. I entered the +plantation, and after straying through it for some time my foot knocked +against something hard, which emitted a peculiar sound. This caused me +to look down to see what it was that I had struck against. I found it +was a piece of metal. I picked it up and examined it carefully, and it +seemed to be the portion of the lock of a gun. + +Swift as a lightning flash came the recollection of what at the time had +made no perceptible impression on my mind. The lock of the gun in the +hand of the figure which I had seen in the vision was imperfect! + +A strange excitement took possession of me, and I felt that if I could +only find the original, if he existed, of that vision I should find the +assassin of Miss R----. + +Gerald's heart was bent on his discovery, and in one of our talks +together he made me promise to help him in the search. I gave the +promise to soothe him, believing at the time I made it that there was +little or no likelihood that I could assist him. + +I put the piece of metal in my pocket and returned to Creeve House. + +Gerald, who had been able to leave his room, had come down to the study, +and as I entered it I found him turning over the pages of an album of +portraits. + +I went over and sat down beside him, and congratulated him on his +improved appearance. He shook his head sadly, and then, hoping to turn +his thoughts from their object, which I had no doubt of, I put my +finger on the album. + +"Who is this?" said I. + +It was the figure of an old lady. + +"She was an aunt of mine." + +I turned over the leaf, and the next portrait was that of the man I had +seen in the vision! For a moment I held my breath; then bending down +over the album, that my face might not betray me, I asked: + +"Who is this?" + +"A half-brother, Frank L----," he answered. "He was my mother's son by +her first husband. Mother was a widow when she married father." + +I burned to ask another question, but feared I might betray myself. + +"She was very fond of him," he went on, "as fond as she was of +me--fonder, I sometimes think, because he did not turn out too well. He +was a soldier, and left his regiment under rather cloudy circumstances; +but I don't know the particulars." + +"He looks somewhat like you," I ventured to observe. + +"More like mother, I should say," he replied. + +"And where is he now?" + +"I don't know. He was, when I last heard of him, lodging in Kingstown +or Blackrock. I don't know much about him. We were never friends. He +always resented mother's second marriage, and, I fear, hated me in +consequence." + +Then Gerald spoke of some other indifferent subject, and I did not +desire to bring him back to the one uppermost in my mind. But as he +talked the question shaped itself--"Was Frank L---- the assassin, and if +so what could have been his motive?" + +A few days after I left Creeve House as Gerald was nearly himself again. +I found, however that the strain of attending him, and the anxiety, and +the vision, and the haunting question ever putting itself to me, had +taxed me more than I had thought, and I determined to spend a few days +at the sea-side, and I found a couple of rooms that suited me in one of +the houses on the Bray Esplanade not far from the "Head." + +I took the rooms, put in my luggage, and went to Dublin for a few hours +to transact some private business. It was near ten at night when I +returned. I found my landlady very much perturbed. The gentleman who had +occupied the rooms I had taken had, as she thought, gone away finally, +but two or three days of his tenancy were unexpired, and he returned +unexpectedly that evening. If I did not mind, she said, I could have for +the night the room of another gentleman who was and would be absent for +three or four days. + +Of course I assented, and in a few minutes I was told the room was +ready. + +Being rather tired I went up to it on receiving this information. I +glanced around it, and was satisfied. I sat on a chair facing the +chimney-piece, in order to take off my boots; and this done, I gazed +about more leisurely, and observed that over the mantle-place, in a +rack, was suspended a gun. I went over towards it to examine it, as I am +curious in firearms, and discovered with a sharp surprise that the lock +of the gun was broken. + +I hastily put my hand in my pocket, drew out the piece of metal which I +had picked up in Creeveen Wood. It fitted the fracture perfectly! + +For a moment I felt like one dazed, and then I began to look around the +room as if in search of something, I knew not what. My eyes lighted on a +portmanteau, bearing the initials "F.L." "Frank L----, by all that's +wonderful," said I to myself. + +I flung myself undressed upon the bed. I couldn't sleep. There was gas +in the room, and I kept it burning all night. + +When I met the landlady next morning I asked her, as if casually, who +was the tenant of my room. + +"Oh, Mr. L----," she answered; "he's been absent for some weeks, and may +not return for some time. He often stays away for over a month." + +What was I to do? I had no doubt whatever I had found the assassin! + +Was I to tell Gerald F----? Would he believe in my visions? Would he +regard the piece of metal as a proof, and if he did believe it would he +thank me for convicting his mother's son of the crime? + +No. I wouldn't tell, at least until I had pursued the matter further. +So the next day I determined to cause some privately conducted +investigations to be made concerning the recent career of Frank L----, +but before I had well set them on foot, and within a few days of my +discovery in the seaside lodgings, came the news through the morning +papers that the body of a man was found on the line between Salthill and +Kingstown, and from papers on him it turned out that he was a Mr. +Francis L----! + +Gerald F----, I know, attended the funeral. A week subsequent to it +came the information from the private inquiry office which I had set in +motion that L---- had been paying attentions to Miss R---- in London, +and her maid had stated that she believed he had made a proposal and had +been rejected. + +L---- was dead and gone. There was no use in pushing the matter any +further. Nothing could be gained by any disclosure I could make, and the +only question that troubled me, and sometimes troubles me now, is, was +what I saw in Creeve House a vision or a dream? + + + + +FROM THE JAIL TO THE BATTLEFIELD. + + +Early in the year 1743 a post-chaise, making for Dublin, was stopped +on the road near Castleknock by two highwaymen, one of whom held the +horses' heads, while the other, with pistol in hand, opened the coach +door, and addressed its single occupant with the brief command: "Your +money or your life." + +The occupant of the carriage, Mr. Vesey, deeming prudence the +better part of valour, handed out his money-bags containing several +hundred pounds and his watch, and was then allowed to proceed to his +destination. He at once acquainted the authorities; a vigorous search +was set on foot, and in a few days two brothers named Silvester and +William Keogh, who lived in the little village of Rathcoole, and who +had a very bad reputation were arrested. One of these, William, was +identified by Mr. Vesey as the man who had opened the door of the +carriage and had robbed him of his money and his watch. He was unable to +identify the other, who was, therefore, discharged from custody. William +Keogh was put on his trial, and on the evidence of Mr. Vesey, convicted, +and after sentence of death had been passed, was confined in old +Kilmainham Jail, where the sentence was to be carried out. + +A few days after the trial Mr. Vesey, who held a commission in the army, +was ordered off for foreign service. He attained the rank of captain, +and his regiment formed part of the English column that had so nearly +made the field of Fontenoy "a Waterloo." And when, before the impetuous +onset of the Irish Brigade that almost invincible column broke, +scattered, and fled, Captain Vesey lay with "his back to the field and +his feet to the foe." Two balls had pierced him and a clubbed musket, +wielded by a fierce Irish exile's arm, had reduced him to insensibility. +But he was not dead. Louis, when he saw that the field was won, gave +orders that the English wounded should be cared for as tenderly as +his own soldiers, and Captain Vesey was carried from the field to the +hospital at Lille by an Irish soldier, of the regiment of Berwick, of +the name of Vaughan, who displayed towards him the greatest solicitude. +Captain Vesey received the utmost attention from the officers of the +Irish Brigade at Lille, who, now that he was wounded and a prisoner +in their hands, remembered only that he was their countryman. He soon +became convalescent, and able to join the officers at mess. One evening +when in the rooms of the Count de St. Woolstan, the conversation having +turned on the incidents of the battle, an officer remarked that Captain +Vesey in all probability owed his life to the private who had carried +him off from the field when to all appearance he was dead. Captain +Vesey eagerly asked for the soldier's name, and said it was strange +that he had never looked to him for any recompense. Count de Woolstan +undertook to find the soldier, and a few evenings later the latter +presented himself at the count's quarters and was shown into the +presence of Captain Vesey. The captain could hardly believe his eyes, +but if they did not deceive him, there before him stood William Keogh, +whom he had believed to be lying in a felon's grave in Kilmainham. He +was about to call him by his true name, when it occurred to him that +the recognition might be injurious to the man to whom he felt he was +indebted for his life. He rose and thanked William _Vaughan_ warmly +for his kindness, and offered him twenty gold pieces, but the soldier +refused to take it. He was greatly agitated as he answered: + +"No, Captain Vesey, I will never touch a penny of your money again." + +"It would appear you have met before," remarked the count. + +"We have," said Keogh, "but Captain Vesey does not know all. I will tell +you." + +But the count said he had no wish to become acquainted with the +confidence that was not intended for him. That he knew Vaughan only as a +good soldier and desired to know no more. + +"And I pledge you my honour," said the captain, grasping Keogh by the +hand, "I shall never allude to you except as the man to whom I owe my +life." + +Keogh pressed the captain's hand warmly in his, and then, with the tears +starting to his eyes, he saluted the officers and left the room. + +A few months afterwards an exchange of prisoners was effected, and when +Captain Vesey was taking farewell of the gallant count, the latter +informed him that he had promoted Vaughan to the rank of sergeant. +Vaughan--or Keogh as we know him--asked for and was given the +opportunity of saying good-bye to the captain, and he took a grateful +farewell. + +Years passed, and Captain Vesey had fought in India and America, when +returning to Europe the fortune of war again made him a prisoner in the +hands of the French when the Duc de Richelieu captured Minorca. And for +the second time, Captain, or as he now was, Colonel Vesey, met with +Count de Woolstan. Naturally enough they talked of former days, and the +colonel made inquiries concerning Vaughan, and he learned that shortly +after he (the colonel) had left Lille. Vaughan's brother had arrived +from Ireland, joined Berwick's regiment and was killed at the battle of +Raucoux. In that battle William was severely wounded and incapacitated +for further service, and he had become an inmate of the _Hotel des +Invalides_. + +Colonel Vesey, on being allowed to go on parole to Paris, sought out the +old sergeant whose escape from the gallows had often been the cause of +curious but unsatisfactory conjecture. Keogh was delighted to see him, +and, seated in one of the arbours in the garden of the Invalides, he +told him the story of his escape. + +"They are all dead and gone now," said he, "who assisted in it, +and there is no longer need for secrecy. No one can be hurt by the +disclosure." + +His story was briefly this: When he and his brother had taken the money +they put it into a canvas bag and hid it in a deep pool in the river +Liffey below the Salmon Leap. There was a heavy weight attached to it to +keep it down, but it could be easily removed by a drag. When lying in +his condemned cell Keogh noticed that the jailer, who paid but little +attention to the other prisoners awaiting execution, was particularly +attentive to him, and one day the jailer entered the cell, and carefully +closing the door sat down on the stool, and asked him if he could do +anything for him. Keogh replied that the only thing he could do was to +get him off being hanged. After a pause the jailer asked: + +"Have you the money?" + +"Every penny of it is safe," was the reply. "And there is fifteen +hundred pounds for a true friend." + +The bait was tempting, and the jailer confessed he was in need of money. +If he could get that amount, he undertook to allow Keogh's brother, +Sylvester, to pass through his rooms, bring with him a rope ladder, +the key being left in the cell, and so the prisoner could escape at +midnight. But William would not hear of his brother being brought into +the plot, and suggested as an alternative that he, William, should get +sick of jail fever, then a very common and often fatal disease; that he +should appear to die of it, and be sent out in a coffin. + +The jailer caught at the suggestion, but said there must be a real +corpse, for there would have to be an inquest; and, he added, that in +that case there would only be a thousand pounds for himself as the +remaining five hundred should be divided amongst necessary accomplices +on whom he could rely. + +Accordingly Keogh feigned illness, and made himself really sick by the +use of drugs with which the jailer supplied him. The prisoners in the +cells at either side of him were removed, to be away from the contagion +of the jail fever, from which Keogh was supposed to be suffering. At +length he was reported dead, and the night of his supposed death the +jailer introduced into his cell a corpse which had been dug up out of +the hospital fields. This was placed in Keogh's bed and the latter was +let out on the high road. The inquest was held and verdict found, the +jury not taking the trouble to view the corpse, deterred from so doing +by fear of infection, and the brother Sylvester, the better to keep up +the deception, attended the funeral. William Keogh married a laundress +in Paris and died about the year 1769, having by his gallant conduct +atoned for the crime of his youth, and he had the happiness of knowing +that he had not only obtained the forgiveness, but had also earned the +gratitude of the man he had wronged. + + + + +ALL FOR A WOMAN'S EYES. + + +CHAPTER I. + +It was a little after midnight, in the last week of February, in the +year 1797. + +Three or four tallow candles, lighted fairly well that part of a +large-sized room, in which stood a huge, old-fashioned four-poster bed, +on which old William Grierson lay dying. + +He looked a man of seventy-five at least. The scant hair of his head was +like silver. His long, hatchet-like face was almost waxen in appearance, +and remarkably free from wrinkles, and in the grey eyes shone some of +the old fire. But it was evident as he lay there that not only his hours +but his minutes were numbered. Between the midnight and the dawn seems +to be the time chosen by the Messenger of Death to bring the last +imperative, unavoidable summons, especially to the old whose footsteps +have lingered in the ways of life. It is, perhaps, kindly meant, for it +is the time when the rational forces are weakest, and when the chief +desire--faint at best--is for repose. + +By the bedside of the dying man were seated two persons. One was a youth +with one foot across the threshold of manhood. He was well-built, +active, good-looking, but his weak mouth suggested want of resolution, +and the edges of his eyelashes, which concealed his dreamy eyes, were +suspiciously bright, as if tears had just visited them. He was the only +son--the only child--of the dying man, and was here now, he knew, to +receive his father's last advice--his last blessing. The other was a man +of fifty or thereabouts. He had a rugged, serious face, and by his dress +and appearance would at once be taken for what he was--a Dissenting +minister. He was seated towards the end of the bed. The young man sat +beside the pillow. + +"I feel my last moments are come, Robby," he said faintly, "and I would +like to give you my blessing before I go." + +Suppressing a sob, for the lad dearly loved his father, and was even +more dearly loved by him, because 'he was the child of his old age,' +Robby knelt down beside the bed, and the dying father extended his thin, +wasted hand, that was almost transparent, and laid it fondly on the head +of the boy. The clergyman had also knelt down, and with his hands raised +in supplication to heaven, he prayed silently in sympathy with the old +man who was so soon to pass away from this fleeting world. + +It was a scene and a moment to move less responsive hearts than that of +young Robbie Grierson. He felt himself like one under some sacred spell, +and at the touch of his father's hand his innermost and deepest feelings +were stirred. + +"I am going home, Robbie," he said. "I am going home where I hope to +meet the mother that bore ye and that ye never saw, and who gave her +life for ye, and before I go I want ye to promise me something, laddie. +I want ye to promise me something--will ye do it, Robbie? Will ye +promise it?" + +Robbie bent his forehead until it touched the coverlet of the bed. + +"I will promise, father." + +"Blessed are those who honour their father and their mother, for their +days will be long in the land," murmured the clergyman, as if to +himself. + +"Well, Robbie, the times are strange, and men are talking of revolution, +and overthrowing governments, and of war that will be needed to bring +all that about. I am a dying man, Robbie, and what do all their present +charges and revolutions seem to me. Ah, nothing more, lad, than the +crimples on the lake when the wind blows, or than the billows when the +storm rages--a boat or ship may go down with its load of souls, but when +the wind is at rest again, all is as before." + +The tone of the speaker was so solemn, and the surroundings so dramatic, +that Robbie felt in no mood to question anything that was said, but +listened with pious and filial resignation. + +"And now, Robbie, lad, I want ye to promise me, afore I go, that you +will not any longer meddle or make with politics, and that you will have +nothing to do with any of these societies that, I hear, are being formed +in this country, bound by oaths, they tell me. Will ye promise, Robbie, +will ye promise, lad. I am getting weak, Robbie, I want ye to promise me +before I go, for your mother's sake and mine, laddie, and there's Mr. +M'Clane there who will be your witness, Robbie." + +But Robbie was silent and did not reply. The request had taken him by a +surprise so great that he knew not what to answer. + +Robert Grierson, with, as he believed, the tacit approval of his father, +had joined the Society of United Irishmen, and as he was well-educated, +enthusiastic, and in a good position, for his father was known to be +very well off, and, besides his extensive farm, had a good round sum in +the bank, he easily acquired a rather prominent position, and was at the +head of one of the committees of councils into which his county was +divided. The society had become oath-bound, and Robbie, in view of his +obligation as a member of it, knew not what to reply to his father's +unexpected request. + +"Honour your father and mother if your days will be long in the land." + +It was the voice of the minister raised scarcely higher than a whisper. + +"Will ye promise me, laddie, I'm flittin'? Will ye promise me, Robbie, +before I go?" + +Robert felt the hand on his relaxing. He lifted his own to catch it, and +found it cold. He looked on his father's face, and though he had not +seen many die he felt the end was at hand. + +"Will ye promise, Robbie?" the voice was growing fainter. + +"I promise." + +"Kiss me, Robbie." + +The son lifted himself up, bent over and kissed the wan lips of the +father. + +"I die happy now, Robbie." + +The tears blinded the youth's eyes. Brushing them away he looked his +last look on his dying father, who held one of his hands. The clergyman +had crept up and slipped his hand into the other. + +A little gasp, a little flicker of the eyes, and all was over. Old +William Grierson was no more. + +At the funeral, a few days after, the whole countryside was present, for +the deceased had been held in high esteem, and there was much talk as to +the future of Robbie Grierson, who found himself so early in life master +of a fine position, and even during the funeral procession of the father +those who were friends of the deceased were speculating as to the +marriage prospects of his son, for this is the way of the world. + +But when the burial was over and done, Robbie Grierson set himself to +work earnestly at the farm, and kept himself aloof from his former +associates. He seemed to have become a wholly different being. He had +been a bright, light-hearted youth, ready for all innocent fun and +frolic. Now he courted solitude and became almost morose. He declined +all invitations to the meetings of the United Irish Society, giving +now one excuse and now another, until at last it became evident to +the members that he did not wish any longer to attend them. He was +looked upon as a very serious loss to their ranks, for he possessed +considerable influence over a wide extent of country, and had been the +means of attracting many recruits to the ranks of the brotherhood. What +made his loss still more serious in the eyes of the heads of the society +was that it appeared to be a defection, and, if such, it was likely to +prove a tempting example to others who had looked up to Robert Grierson +as one of the props of the society. + +His conduct seemed inexplicable, for though not looked upon by his +superiors as very resolute or masterful, he was believed to be sincere. +At length the explanation got about, which young Grierson himself, for +some reason or another, was reluctant to offer, and when the story of +the death came to be told, the utmost sympathy was felt with Grierson, +and it was admitted by most that, under the circumstances, he could +hardly be blamed for making the solemn promise which detached him from +the United Irishmen. But among them there were not wanting some who +scoffed at Robert's respect for the promise which he had given to the +dead, but the majority, it must be said, respected him for it, although +they considered it was unreasonable to exact it, and not binding on +Robert. + +Avoiding, as far as possible, doing any violence to his feelings, the +chief men of the district endeavoured to withdraw him from his solitary +course, but in vain. They represented to him that a promise exacted +under such circumstances was not binding, for if it were, then the +living generations might always be bound by the dead, and that all +progress in human affairs would be arrested. + +But Robert Grierson heeded them not, and he became apparently more +disconsolate, and what time he could spare from his business he spent +wandering by the banks of the stream, broad and brown, and tossing up +its tawny locks as it passed fretfully over the stones that here and +there interrupted its passage, and which formed the "mearing" between +his property and Mr. George Jephson, who was one of the chiefs of the +United Irish Society in his district. + +A little story got abroad that there was another, or at least an +additional, reason for Robert Grierson keeping so much to himself. It +was said that he had been the suitor of a young lady in a position a +little higher than his own, and that in the eyes of her parents his +Republican principles had proved an insuperable barrier to their union, +and that with the object of bringing their romantic attachment to an +end, the young lady had been sent away to England and was lost on the +voyage there, the vessel in which she sailed having been wrecked just +outside Holyhead and all on board drowned. + +The story was, in the main, true, and it was a cause of the most +poignant grief to Robert Grierson that, having allowed his first love +to go away from him rather than surrender his political principles, he +now felt himself coerced by his promise to his dead father to abandon +them, and, at least, to find it necessary for him to sever himself from +those who continued to be the exponents of those principles. + +But love-stricken as Robert Grierson was, his heart had not been fatally +wounded, and although the homely life he was now leading seemed to hand +him over a prey to melancholy, and although he persuaded himself that +he was utterly love-lorn and that his heart was secure from any new +assaults of Cupid, he knew nothing of the power and the wiles of the +mischievous son of Aphrodite, and never dreamt that the little archer +had the shaft fitted to the bow that would leave the whirring string +only to find a sure passage into his, Robert Grierson's heart. + + +CHAPTER II. + +On an evening in May, 1797, Robert Grierson was strolling down by the +banks of the stream that bound his lands. The weather for weeks had been +mild, and the country was dressed in the tender green that had not yet +drunk too deeply of the sunlight, unlike the leaves of mid-June, that +hang so heavily and so listless in the still air. The stream was not +yet as clear as it would be some weeks later, but it glared brightly +enough as it flashed and swirled when the stones or boulders strove to +stop its way, and even when it ran smooth and deep the rays of the sun, +descending in an almost cloudless sky, coloured its brown surface to a +golden hue. + +Like most romantic youths, Robert Grierson loved to converse with +rivers. Their bickerings, their whispers, their mysterious murmurings +and sobbings, their chafing at obstructions, and the soft fretting on +the banks when the way was clear had all become familiar to him, and all +these seemed to glide into his darker musings, "and steal away their +sharpness ere he was aware." + +Had anyone interrupted him as he strolled along and asked him what he +was thinking of, he would have found it difficult, if not impossible to +give a satisfactory reply. The thoughts of youth, as the poet tells us, +"are long, long thoughts," which is another way of saying it is given +them to indulge in indefinable longings. But whatever were the musings +of Robert Grierson on this evening he was suddenly brought back to his +surroundings by a scream and a splash. + +At the opposite side of the stream and knee-deep up to his fore-legs +in it, was a pony, on which sat a lady, looking scared but gloriously +beautiful in the light of the setting sun. + +"Oh, I'll be drowned! I'll be drowned!" + +There was no danger whatever. The pony had come down a boreen leading to +the river--to a watering place and knew what he was about. Not so the +lady, whom Grierson saw was a stranger, and who was evidently afraid the +pony would carry her up mid-stream. + +Grierson without hesitation plunged in, and waded up to his neck for a +short distance until he swam by the pony's head. Assuring the lady that +there was no danger, he waited until the pony had slaked his thirst, and +then turning his head round led him back to the boreen. + +The lady was profuse in her thanks, which Grierson protested were not at +all deserved, but they were, nevertheless, very grateful to him, for +they were uttered in a voice the most musical he had ever heard. It was +soft, almost caressing, and there was, moreover, a flavour of a foreign +accent which seems to claim a special tender consideration for the +speaker when she is a lady, young and beautiful, and a stranger. + +With a final graceful wave of her hand, and shooting a Parthian glance +from her dark eyes that went with unerring aim to Grierson's heart, she +urged her pony forward, and rounding a bend of the boreen was quickly +lost to view. + +Grierson stood gazing after her, like one whose gaze was fixed on a +vision. It may be that the sun had sunk down behind the hills when she +vanished, as it were, from his sight, but the very air seemed dark, the +river ran in shadows, and his clinging wet clothes helped to free him +from the spell of enchantment under which he had been drawn. + +He ought to have hastened home to change his clothing, but he went there +slowly, rehearsing in his mind the little scene in which he had taken +part. Never was face so fair, he whispered to himself; never was voice +so sweet, never were eyes so bewitching. As he thought of them his very +soul seemed striving to escape from him to follow them. + +Alas, "for the love that lasts alway!" + +Had anyone dared on that morning to whisper to Robert Grierson that +before the sun went down he would have completely forgotten his first +love, and become the bondslave of a woman's eyes, whose name he did not +know, and whom he had never seen, he would have regarded the prophecy +as little better than an insult, or, at least, as a foolish, idle +utterance. And now, as he was turning into his house, he felt that in +meeting so unexpectedly the fair unknown this evening he had met his +fate. + +He spent many hours that night thinking of her, and wondering who she +was. He surmised that she was a guest of his neighbour, Mr. ----, who, +as we know, was a prominent member of the United Society, and Grierson +wondered he had heard nothing of her before, but then he remembered that +he had kept himself so much aloof that very little gossip of any kind +reached his ears. + +When he thought of the way in which she and he had met he could not +help regretting that he had not the opportunity of rendering her a more +signal service, and he began spinning out romantic scenes in his mind--a +horse tearing madly along straight for a precipice, a shrieking maiden +clinging to his mane, and at the last moment he, Robert Grierson, +managing to seize the reins, stopping the horse, but falling as he did +so, and becoming unconscious, and then when he woke up, feeling sore all +over, not knowing where he was, for he found himself in a dimly lighted +room, and while he was still wondering a fair face bent softly over him, +etc., etc. Other scenes in which the incidents were varied, succeeded, +until he fell asleep. + +When he woke the following morning, the fair vision of the previous +evening came before his eyes, and he decided that he would endeavour to +find out who the lady was. + +The news came to him unexpectedly. Mr. ---- came over to thank him for +himself and also on behalf of his guest. Grierson very naturally made +light of the business as a thing, so far as he was concerned, not worth +talking about; but Mr. ---- assured him that the young lady was very +grateful, and it would, he said, give him great pleasure if Grierson +would come over to his house that evening to supper. Grierson, after a +little reluctance, which he felt bound to pretend owing to his having +refused so many former invitations from the same quarter, agreed to go, +and that evening found him in the society of Rosette Neilan, who had +lately come back from France, and who was an ardent admirer of that +gallant people, and was full of enthusiasm for the cause of liberty. + + +CHAPTER III. + +LOVE'S TRIUMPH. + +The only persons present at the supper were Mr. ----, his wife, Rosette, +and Grierson, and it must be confessed that the young lady did all the +talking. Most of it was about her school days, and there were bright +little sketches of French life and much, but not very much, of the army +that was sweeping over Europe, overthrowing old landmarks and breaking +up dynasties. It was hardly to be wondered at that the others were +listeners. The lovely face of the speaker seemed to beam as she spoke. +Her beautiful eyes were at times as still as a waveless sea, and as +deep, under the blue sky of a cloudless summer day. At times they +flashed and sparkled as she became more interested in the subject of her +conversation; her speech seemed to flow, as flows the song of the lark +singing and winging his way up until he is lost in the height, and +there was that _soupçon_ of a foreign accent to which we have already +referred, and to which we are half tempted to give the name of "brogue," +knowing how sweet what we call the "brogue" can be in a winsome Irish +girl's lips. Then there were the wonderful gestures that seemed, as it +were, to add colour and motion to her descriptions. It was simply a +delight to watch the play of her features, and as for Robert Grierson, +he seemed to himself as if he were under a spell, and in truth he was. +If Love had wounded him the previous evening, this night it succeeded in +binding him hand and foot; and, as he returned home, walking in the +moonlight by the stream, he seemed to hear, as it murmured by, the music +of her voice. + +It is hardly necessary to say that he made frequent opportunities of +meeting her. Mr. and Mrs. ---- gave him every facility. Mrs. ----, +because she was, like most women, a bit of a matchmaker, and could +sympathise still with a little love romance. That this was one she did +not doubt. Anyone with her opportunity would have found no difficulty +in making this discovery, and she regarded the match in every way a +suitable one. Rosette was, indeed, almost penniless, while Robert +Grierson had enough and to spare for both, with no relatives depending +on him, and she thought he ought to be proud to win for his wife so +beautiful and charming a girl as Rosette. + +As for Mr. ----, he was glad of the intimacy which he saw springing +up between the young couple, for other, though hardly as romantic, +reasons. As for Rosette herself, she had been so much accustomed to +admiration that at first she accepted Robert Grierson's attentions as +a matter of course, but it was not very long until she felt that her +interest in him was becoming deeper, and her longing to meet him +stronger. + +During their earlier meetings their talk was just such as might be +expected to take place between a handsome, brilliant, light-hearted, +young lady, who assumed the airs of a queen, and a somewhat bashful +young gentleman, who had felt his heart was under her feet, and who, +dazed by her beauty and her will, could do barely more than listen and +admire. But when they had become more intimate her talk was of another +character. She began to speak much of France--of the Revolution--of the +cause of Liberty. + +She seemed to know by heart the wonderful story of the young Republic +that had started up half armed and caught hoary dynasties by the throat, +and humbled them to the dust. + +As she spoke the battlefields seemed to rise before her vision, and she +described the conflicts as if she had taken part in them, and on one +occasion, after telling how a crowd of beardless boys, without shoes, +and almost in tatters, had rushed the heights and sabred the Austrian +gunners, she suddenly turned towards Grierson, and, with passionate +gesture, exclaimed: + +"Ah, if I were a man, I should be a soldier. But if I ever marry, I'll +marry only a soldier of liberty." + +She and Grierson were standing on a knoll that rose over the river that +flashed back the hues of the sunset. + +They fell also on the face and figure of Rosette, and as Grierson +listened to her impassioned tones and watched her lovely face glowing +with transcendent beauty he felt she had only to lift her finger to +beckon him to destruction, and that he would have leaped in response +like a hound loosened from the leash. + +"Ah, glorious France!" she exclaimed, "she had only to stamp her foot +and out her children came swarming round her, begging her to let them go +fight, conquer or die for her." + +"But poor Ireland," and a wistful look came into her eyes, "I come back +to you only to find a race of slaves!" + +And her voice, exultant a second before, sank as if burdened with great +sorrow. + +Then, after a slight pause, she resumed. + +"But I fear I should not have spoken this way, Mr. Grierson, and the +evening is waning, and I had better return home." + +"Not have spoken this way!" Grierson exclaimed, "as if I have any desire +to find fault with your words or your thoughts; as if every word of +yours does not find a home in my heart!" + +And he caught her little hand and lifted it to his lips. + +She permitted the caress, then gently withdrawing her hand she repeated: +"I had better return home." + +"But why should you not speak to me and tell me everything?" he cried +passionately. + +"Because--because," she stammered, "you know you were once one--one of +us, but you are so no longer." + +"One of us!" and he emphasised the last word. + +"Oh, I mean," she replied with a slight toss of her head, rather +suggestive of disdain, "you were once a soldier of liberty--but you are +so no longer." + +For a second he was puzzled, then his heart caught her meaning. + +"You said you would marry only a soldier of liberty." + +"It is true," she replied. + +"And if I were one?" + +"But you are not! Look, the sun is sinking behind the hills already--the +shadows are in the valley. I must return." + +"But if I were a soldier of liberty once more. If I take the oath of the +United Men?" + +"You took it, Robert Grierson." + +"But you do not understand. You have not heard all." + +"I understand. I have heard everything. You took the oath, and while men +are arming everywhere, and the revolution that will make Ireland a +Republic like France and like America is setting into motion you are +playing the part of a truant and a dreamer." + +"But my promise was given to the dying--I might almost say, dead." + +"Then go amongst the graves and keep it." + +"But this is too cruel, Rosette--Rosey--little Rose. Tell me, if I were +to--to join the United ranks again, would you count me a soldier of +liberty?" + +"Of course," she replied. "Every Irish soldier of liberty is one now." + +"And if I did would there be hope for me? You know what I mean, +Rosette." + +"Green is the colour of the United Men," she answered, "and you have +heard, I'm sure, how, when Camille Desmoulines, in the gardens of the +Palais Royal in the beginning of the Revolution, plucked a leaf from +one of the trees, he decked himself with it, crying out: 'Green is the +colour of hope.'" + +Her eyelids drooped a little as he looked at her with an ardent gaze. + +"And may I hope?" he asked. + +"If you wear the green." And she held towards him a leaf which she had +plucked. + +He took it and kissed it, and then? Well, it is enough to say that +Robert Grierson once more wore the green, as the affianced lover of +Rosette. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +LA DONNA E MOBILE. + +The announcement of her engagement to Robert Grierson was received with +great pleasure both by Mr. and Mrs. ----, the latter from reasons +already mentioned, and by the former because it was accompanied with the +assurance that the young man had been once more brought within the ranks +of the United Society. But although this was so, and that he attended +their meetings, he hardly displayed his former zeal, and there were +some who thought that his broken promise to his dead father weighed on +his mind. Perhaps it did. But it is not unlikely that love was also +responsible. And it happened that Rosette, who had been so fervent +in the cause of liberty, and so eager to talk of it, since she had +acknowledged her love for Robert and promised to be his bride, began to +find other and more tender subjects for conversation, and as these two +young lovers, all in all to each other, strolled down the green laneways +or by the banks of the winding stream under the blue skies of April, he +as well as she were fain to forget that already the conflict had begun +which was to decide whether the United Irish Society or the English +Government were to be masters in Ireland. But at last the time arrived +which brought them face to face with the fact that a rising was soon to +take place in Ulster, and that Robert Grierson would have to take his +part in it. + +And now the lovers were in the sweet month of May, when, under other +circumstances, their hearts would rejoice with the joyous month of +flowers. When they had plighted their troth only such a short time +before they knew that the effort to throw off the British yoke was soon +to be made, and they had seriously desired that the marriage was not to +take place until it was over. The issue then did not seem doubtful, for +were not the French coming to render assistance? and in a few weeks +Ireland would be free from the centre to the sea. + +But now not a day passed without rumours of arrests of popular leaders, +and the daily court-martials in Belfast and elsewhere. These, it must +be confessed, had little or no effect on Grierson, but they had a most +unexpected effect on Rosette. A gloom seemed to settle on her spirits, +for at night she had fearful visions of gallowses, and of strangled +men, and in nearly every case the face of the victim bore a grotesque +resemblance to that of her lover. + +She endeavoured to conceal the apprehensions that preyed on her. But +Robert coaxed her to tell him the cause of her unhappiness. It chanced +that they were standing together on the spot where they had plighted +their mutual vows, and which naturally had become dear to both of them. +Again the sun was setting gloriously, and the stream shone and flashed, +and from the green hedgerows there were some sweet, small voices singing +a farewell to the setting sun. But there was no longer the radiant face +of Rosette. The sunset light only served to expose its unutterable +sadness. + +Grierson had his arm round her waist. + +"Tell me, darling, tell me, my own little Rosy, what is the trouble on +you?" + +"Oh, Robbie, Robbie!" the tears came to her eyes, "what brought me here? +What brought me and you together?" + +"Why, darling, what do you mean? What brought you here except to make me +the happiest man in Ulster, or out of it." + +"No, no, Robbie, love, you were happy till I came. You might be happy +now and always, but I--I have changed the current of your life. It might +have run on calmly as the stream below, flowing in an accustomed course, +but now----" + +"But no, darling, whatever be its course, it will run brighter than the +stream runs on there so long as I have you with me, my own dear, darling +little Rosette." + +And he drew her towards him and kissed her. + +"But Robbie, don't you understand, dear. I have had such dreams, and of +you--oh, they have frightened my very soul!" + +"You silly darling. Do you not know that dreams go by contraries!" + +"Oh, but they come again and again." + +"Then what were they, dearest? They will lose all their terror if you +tell me," and thus he coaxed her story from her, and he kissed her and +laughed away her fears for the time, but it was only for the time. The +dreams recurred--not always the same, however, for sometimes instead +of the scaffold she appeared to see a battlefield heaped with dead, +the faces of most of the corpses gashed, and amongst them, always +recognisable by her, and she felt it was gashed almost out of +recognition--was that of Robert Grierson. + +The result of these dismal dreams was that Rosette became thoroughly +convinced that her lover was destined to a fatal end unless, for she +could see no other alternative, he were to quit the country, and day +after day her spirits sank, and, do what he could, Robbie was unable to +cheer her. + +And now the news arrived that the rising was determined on, and a few +days later it was followed by the news that Leinster was up. + +Grierson had to confess to himself that Rosette's forebodings had deeply +affected him, and, moreover, as the moment for action approached, the +scene at the deathbed of his father intruded itself frequently. His +conscience seemed to goad him for having broken the promise so solemnly +given, and at the next moment he felt that it never should have been +exacted, and at all costs he knew he would have given it up a dozen +times for Rosette's sake. + +But here was Rosette now sorry that she had made him break it. But +without doing so could he have won her? And then his memory summoned +her up as she stood next him on that fateful evening. + +At last Grierson received orders to join the forces under Munroe, and he +and Rosette were once more going down by the stream. "Would it be the +last time?" his heart kept asking him, yet he strove to be cheerful, and +he talked of returning in a few months at the outside, and making his +Rosette his own bonny bride. + +Rosette had, on her side, endeavoured to bear up bravely, but at last +she completely broke down. + +"Oh, darling, darling, I've led you to your ruin--to your death. +Yes--yes, it is I who will have killed you. I would give my eyes out +for you, dearest!" + +"Keep them for me, darling! that will be better," Robbie answered, with +affected gaiety, and he kissed the tears away. + +"But Robbie, if you love me, if you love me, dearest, there is yet time +to save yourself. I was wrong, Robbie, it was sinful of me to get you to +violate your solemn pledge to your dying father. I saw him in my dreams +last night, and his face was full of anger. Oh, Robbie, I've done wrong, +and you--you are the victim." + +He pressed her towards him, patted her cheek, remaining silent, thinking +it better to let her speak without interruption. + +At last, withdrawing herself from his arms, she returned a step or two +and then fell on her knees. She stretched out her hands. "Oh, Robbie, +if you love me fly--fly to-night while there is yet time, when you are +safe beckon me to come to you, and I'll follow you if need be around the +world." + +Robbie bent down and tenderly lifted her up. + +"Dearest, you will crush my heart if you talk in that way. But what you +ask is impossible. Be my own brave girl and banish these silly fears. +You would not have them brand me a coward or a traitor. I should be one, +if not both, if I faltered or fled now when the summons has come. If I +could do so, dear, I know that when you and I would meet again I should +be ashamed to look into your eyes, counting myself, as I would be, a +renegade. No, dearest, I'll never bring that disgrace upon myself or on +the woman who has given me her love." + +And so till the night came he strove to soothe her and to cheer her +heart--his own sad enough--but after the final adieu he set out for home +for the last time he was ever to visit it, with face set and conscious +that he was taking the only course that was open to him, but his heart +was dark with forebodings. + +The next day he joined Munroe. Poor Rosette remained at home praying and +weeping, anticipating always the worst, and unable to shake off the +conviction that the day of her happiness had come to a close. + +At last the terrible news arrived of the defeat of Munroe at +Ballinahinch and the dispersal of his forces. There was at first no +word of Robert Grierson, and, of course, Rosette concluded that he was +left amongst the slain. + +The following day, towards nightfall, a labourer who had been in +Robert's employment, brought her the news that Robert was concealed in +his cabin a few miles away. Thither she sped that night to find Robert +lying on a heap of clean straw rather badly wounded, but in fairly +cheerful spirits. + +There he remained for several days, and was rapidly gaining health, and +Rosette's hopes were reviving, and she again indulged the dream that she +and Robert would be happy, for she had secured a promise from him which +he was now free to give--that, as soon as he was well enough, he would +endeavour to escape to France, whither she would follow him. + +But alas, it was only a dream. The bloodhounds were on his track. One +morning, just in the grey of dawn, Rosette was making her way close to +the cabin in which Robbie lay, when suddenly she was confronted by a +small party of yeos. She turned and fled, pursued by a volley of oaths +and villainous jests. Worse still, she was followed by one or two of the +party, and although she flew like a deer she was quickly overtaken, for +her foot having caught in a briar she stumbled and fell. + +The yeo picked her up, and then swore out: "By ----, it's the +Frenchwoman, and her lover cannot be far off." + +In the meantime the approach of the yeos to the house had been +discovered, and the owner had taken out Grierson to the haggard, and +concealed him effectually in a heap of turf which stood by the house. +Within a few minutes the yeos came, bringing Rosette along, her face +aflame with indignation. + +"Search the house," cried the leader of the band. They did so. There was +no one in it. "Come, my man tell us at your peril where the traitor +Grierson is?" + +"That's more than I know" replied the owner of the house, to whom the +question had been addressed. + +"Well this wench can tell us, and shall tell us," cried one of the most +ruffianly of the gang, and he seized Rosette in such a manner as to +cause her to scream out. + +Suddenly the clump of turf came tumbling about the yard, and with +flashing eyes and white face Robert Grierson staggered out and made for +the ruffian. + +"Unhand her, you coward," and he struck at his face. Weak as he was the +blow was not without effect, and Rosette was free from the polluted +grasp. + +There was something in the passion of Grierson that seemed to win the +sympathy of the yeoman captain, who had been acquainted with Grierson. + +"Come," he said, "submit quietly to be bound and I pledge myself the +girl shall go away unmolested." + +"Oh, Robbie, Robbie!" was all poor Rosette could say, her whole frame +shaking with sobs. + +When the yeos were ready to march with Grierson they first had a look +round for the man of the house. But he fled when Robbie discovered +himself, and had run where he could not be found. The yeos, by way +of revenge, set fire to the thatch. Rosette begged to be allowed to +accompany the prisoner. Ordering the yeos to fall back from the latter, +the captain brought Rosette up to him. + +"I would grant your request," he said kindly, "but if you take my advice +you will go to your home. I might be able to protect you from insult, +but we shall transfer our prisoner to other hands." + +Robbie urged her to act on this suggestion--and she, promising that she +would visit him in prison, bringing Mr. ---- with her, on the following +day, took a heartbroken farewell, striving to appear strong so as not to +give sport to the yeos. + +She went to a little hill that commanded the road for nearly a mile, +down which the yeos and their prisoner went. As she watched him further +and further away, the life-blood seemed to ebb from her heart, and when +at last they rounded a curve that shut them out from view, poor Rosette +utterly broke down and fell fainting to the ground. + +A week later the scaffold found a fresh victim in Robert Grierson. Poor +Rosette's love story was over. Her darkest dream had proved true. + + + + +THE RUSE OF MADAME MARTIN. + + +Nature was a little unkind to Danton Martin when it encased a great soul +in a small body; and Love, which can also play fantastic tricks, had +mated him with a wife fully a head over him and otherwise of ample +proportions, of whom, not without reason, he was very proud. She was +uncommonly handsome, had a fine figure, and knew how to make the most of +it; and if at times he felt rebuked by Madame's superior size, there +was, by way of compensation, their only child, Lucille, who was just +home from the convent, and who was no taller than her father, and was a +perfect copy of her mother's beauty. Her little face was as bright as a +summer day without its sameness, and its sparkling vivacity had turned +the heads of all the young fellows of Merploer; and when Monsieur Martin +was seated with his little Lucille beside him on the Place, on the days +on which the band played, and saw the many admiring glances cast in her +direction, he felt as proud as a king on his throne. + +Not, indeed, that he was a respector of kings, quite the contrary. He +was, as he asserted, a republican of the republicans. Did not, he would +ask, did not one of his ancestors take part in the storming of the +Bastille? Did not another dip his handkerchief in the blood of Monsieur +Veto, and coming to later times, did not Martin père fall wounded in the +fusilade of the _coup d'état_ of "Napoleon the Little," and did he not +quit France rather than live under a hated Empire, and return to it only +when the Republic was once more built on the ruins of a throne? Alas, +there were not wanting some to hint that the wound was a myth, and that +he went to England solely to better himself, and came back only when he +had secured a competence, if not a fortune. Be this as it may, Martin +père married the daughter of a rich shipowner in Merploer, and as a +proof of his republican faith he gave to his only son the name of +Danton. + +Danton Martin did his best to live up to the great name, but it was no +easy task in quiet times of peace and slow reform, and the republican +sentiment of Merploer was sluggish if not almost stagnant. + +Danton Martin had his hours of despondency, and at times he would, in +the solitude of his dressing-room, but not always unperceived by Madame, +stand before the mirror and, endeavouring to assume a leonine aspect, +strike his chest and recall the famous words which had been uttered at +the foot of the scaffold, "Danton, no weakness!" + +Inspired by the great name and example, Danton Martin founded a +political club in Merploer at "Le Vieux Corsaire." Its object was to +disseminate true republican principles. Its motto "The Republic One and +Indivisible." + +Every member of the club who saluted a fellow member was bound to follow +up the salute with the aspiration "Long live the Republic," to which the +invariable rejoinder was "One and Indivisible." + +This phrase had a special virtue in Danton Martin's eyes. By a Republic +One and Indivisible he meant one that should be supreme over the minds +of all true Frenchmen, and that should brook no rival to its influence. +Therefore what he styled the pretensions of the Church were to be beaten +down. Again and again he proclaimed these views at "Le Vieux Corsaire," +and as a public proof of his faith he caused the phrase to be inscribed +round a head of Liberty carved in relief on a plaque over the front +entrance to his villa, called after his little daughter "Villa Lucille." + +But, alas, there were not wanting some envious tongues to assert +that Danton Martin's republican principles went no further than his +hall-door, and that inside the Villa Lucille the loud-voiced orator of +"Le Vieux Corsaire" was as quiet as the proverbial church mouse. + +There was something more than a grain of truth in this. Madame had not +troubled herself with her husband's views in politics until the laws +suppressing the religious congregations were set in motion. When, +however, matters had proceeded so far that the good Sisters, by whom +she, and, subsequently, Lucille, had been educated, were turned out upon +the street, Madame's indignation knew no bounds. + +"A nice kind of Republic your Republic is," she cried to Danton; "it +abandoned the provinces to Germany without striking a single blow to +recover them; and the only employment it can find for its army (which, +we are told, is the one hope of France) is to break into convents, +and fling defenceless women into the street. Your Republic, one and +indivisible, is splitting France in two. Never speak to me of it again!" + +Danton winced, but was silent; he was weak enough to find extenuating +circumstances for Madame's indignation. Had she not been brought up, he +said, by the Sisters, and what else could be expected from her? + +The Martin marriage had been one of affection on both sides, and this +was the first dark cloud which had lowered over Villa Lucille, and it +was destined to become darker. + +Lucille had a very dear school friend--Yolande de Lauvens--whose +brother, Henri, was a lieutenant in the Engineers; and Yolande having +been on a long visit to Lucille, Henri had, thanks to Madame, who had a +very high opinion of the young lieutenant, many opportunities of seeing +Lucille, of course always in her mother's presence. The result was that +the young people fell in love. Monsieur Martin had perceived nothing of +this, and it was with genuine astonishment that he learned from Madame +that the lieutenant only waited his assent to become a suitor for his +daughter's hand. He had never even suspected such a thing. More than +once he had stated to his friends that he would take care that Lucille +should become the wife of a true Republican, and on several occasions at +the meetings at "Le Vieux Corsaire" he had declared that the Republic +could not thoroughly rely upon the army until the aristocrats among the +officers had been weeded out, and he would recall with glowing words the +achievements of the armies of the First Republic, when the aristocrats +had fled and turned their arms against their country. Lieutenant de +Lauvens was an aristocrat, and on this matter Danton felt that he could +not give way. His reply to Madame's pleadings was summed up in the final +sentence: + +"Madame, the thing is impossible, and in this at least you shall find +that Danton Martin will show no weakness!" + +Danton meant to be firm, but although Madame appeared to have accepted +his position as final, and Lucille said nothing, he was very unhappy, +and day after day his unhappiness increased. For the first time, +something had come between him and those whom he loved best in all the +world. + +It was, perhaps, as well for him that he was able to find some +distraction in the preparations, which were being made on a grand scale, +for the reception of the Minister of Marine, who was coming to Merploer +on an approaching _fête_, and whose visit was to be the occasion of a +demonstration in force of true republicanism. + +One of the features of the demonstration was a procession which should +pass twice along the boulevard, at the top of which stood a most +conspicuous object--Villa Lucille, and Danton tried to encourage the +hope that on the day of the procession the balcony would be graced by +the presence of Madame and Lucille. Once or twice he hinted as much to +Madame, but she received the hint in chilling silence. Danton, however, +still hopeful gave orders that the balcony should be gaily decorated +with evergreens and trophies of tricolour flags. + +At length the night preceding the great day arrived. Danton came home +very late, as he had been detained helping to perfect the arrangements +for the morrow. + +Assuming that all were asleep, he crept upstairs. At Lucille's room he +paused, and, leaving his candle on the landing, he gently pushed open +the door that he might go in, as usual, to whisper good-night to her, as +she lay asleep in her little nest, under the guardianship of a Madonna, +before whose shrine a small red lamp was always burning. To-night he was +surprised to find the room in utter darkness. The lamp must have gone +out, he thought. He brought in his candle, and when by its light he saw +the room he was hardly able to suppress an exclamation of amazement. It +had undergone a complete metamorphosis. The dainty curtains had gone +from the bed; the shrine had been removed, and also the pictures of the +saints from the walls. Instead of these were portraits of Danton and +other Titans of the great Revolution, and over Lucille's bed was a lurid +picture of the execution of Louis XVI. + +Bending over the sleeping Lucille, he thought he noticed the trace of +tears on her cheek. Utterly perplexed, he stole out of the room hoping +to find some explanation from his wife, but she was snoring the snore of +the just; and on the bedroom wall facing the door was the legend +"Liberty, Fraternity, Equality--or Death." + +Danton did not dare to rouse Madame; and desirous of blotting out the +words that seemed to mock him, he blew out the candle and went to bed in +the dark. + +After about an hour he woke with a scream. + +"What is the matter, Danton?" + +"Oh, nothing, chérie, I've had a nightmare." + +"No weakness, Danton." + +"No, chérie." + +Madame in a second or two was again snoring rhythmically, but to Danton +sleep did not return so speedily. He had been dreaming of processions; +then he thought he was in a tumbrel on the way to execution, and that +the angry crowd with threatening gestures were hurling fierce oaths at +him, and turning to escape the sight he found himself face to face with +a fellow victim--it was Lucille! Although he knew now that it was only a +nightmare, the horrible vision kept renewing itself, but merciful sleep +came to him at last, and, when he awoke again, it was the cheery voice +of the bonne offering her usual good morning to Monsieur and Madame, as +she entered the bedroom with the _petit déjeuner_. + +"Good-morning, Julie," replied Madame; "long live the Republic!" + +"One and indivisible," replied Julie, in a solemn voice. + +Danton rubbed his eyes, and he could hardly trust his ears. Julie was in +the costume of a drummer boy of the First Republic! + +"Good-morning, mamma!" sang a voice in the next room. + +"Our birdie is awake," said Madame; and then, in a louder tone, +"Good-morning, dearest! Long live the Republic!" + +"One and indivisible," replied Lucille, and then, "Good-morning, papa!" + +"Good-morning, chérie!" + +"Long live the Republic," said Lucille, gaily. + +For the first time in his life the reply seemed to stick in Danton's +throat; but he got it out, "One and indivisible!" and he coughed as if +his coffee had gone against his breath. When he recovered he addressed +his wife, who had risen and pulled back the curtains of the balcony. +"Pray, Madame, will you be good enough to explain?" + +"The explanation is as simple as I hope it will be gratifying," said +Madame, in the tone of a tragedy queen. "The 'Republic, one and +indivisible' has entered our house and taken possession of it. It has +entered my bosom and taken possession of it. It has entered the bosom of +Lucille and taken possession of it, and never again shall it be said +that the Villa Lucille is divided against itself. Never again shall the +scoffer say that the republicanism of Danton Martin stops outside his +hall-door. We shall silence him to-day, Danton; we shall silence the +scoffer to-day! You have asked that Lucille and I should appear on the +balcony when the procession passes. We shall be there--I, as the genius +of Liberty and Lucille as a daughter of the Republic. See," continued +Madame, as she moved towards a wardrobe, "here are my helmet, lance, and +shield, and I have also pink tights." + +"Tights!" Danton was hardly able to gasp out the word. The idea of +Madame's ample figure in tights nearly took away his breath. + +"Yes," Madame went on, as if she had not noticed his surprise; "but I +shall, of course, wear a little classic drapery out of respect for the +prejudices of Lucille. But see how the helmet becomes me." + +She opened the wardrobe, and Danton saw the gleam of polished armour. +She donned a helmet, slipped her left arm through a shield, and, taking +a lance in her right hand, stood with her back against the wall, under +the legend of "Liberty, Fraternity, Equality--or Death." + +Danton could only look; he was speechless. + +"Listen, Danton, listen; do you hear the cry? 'Vive le Drapeau Rouge!' +It is the workmen who are passing. You see I have arranged the tricolour +on the balcony, so that only the red shows." + +"But, my God, Madame, the Drapeau Rouge!" + +"No weakness, Danton! No weakness!" + +"Rub-a-dub-a-dub!" + +"What is that?" demanded Danton, as he heard the sound of a drum +downstairs. + +"It is Julie practising the Carmagnole." + +"The what? Are you all mad?" + +"There, the baker is ringing," said Madame, and passing by Danton, she +went towards the door and called out, "Two loaves, Julie; two loaves." + +"And is Julie going to the baker in that costume?" shrieked Danton, and, +attired in his pyjamas, he rushed downstairs. + +"Mille diables!" he yelled, as he pulled back Julie from the hall-door. +"To the kitchen, hussy." + +But Julie, lightly tapping the drum, sped upstairs to her mistress. + +"Good-morning, Monsieur," said the baker, "long live the Republic." + +"Two loaves," replied Danton. "I am busy to-day, Monsieur," he added, to +explain his brusqueness and stop further conversation. + +"Ah, yes, Monsieur Danton, you will soon have to go to the Mairie. I +shall go up there myself when I shall have delivered my bread. It will +be a great day for the procession. 'Vive le Drapeau Rouge!'" And the +baker waved his hand towards the balcony as Danton almost shut the door +in his face. + +Danton flung the loaves on the table in the hall, and again hearing the +tap of a drum, this time from above, he bounded upstairs and rushed into +the bedroom. There was Julie beating the drum, Lucille standing beside +her in a white linen costume, sash a little below her knees, and wearing +a Phrygian cap. Next her, and towering over her, was majestic Madame. +Danton was beside himself. Forgetting that he had no slippers on, he +kicked viciously at the drum, as he yelled to Julie to leave the room. + +"To your bedroom, mademoiselle," he cried to Lucille, who was only too +glad to slip away. He confronted Madame, "It is time to put an end to +this pantomime, Madame." + +"Pantomime! They are quite in earnest in the street, Monsieur. Listen, +there is no mistaking the sincerity of that cry. Hear the workmen as +they pass, 'Vive le Drapeau Rouge.'" + +"And you have really folded the tricolour!" exclaimed Danton, who, +extreme as he was, was not yet prepared to substitute the red flag for +the tricolour. + +"And why not," replied Madame; "I think of your ancestors, Danton; of +him who dipped his handkerchief in the blood of Monsieur Veto; think of +him who----" + +"My ancestors be hanged!" cried Danton. + +"They richly deserved it, I have no doubt," replied Madame; "but what +would they say at 'Le Vieux Corsaire' if they heard you speak in that +fashion?" + +"But, Madame, you cannot mean to be present in that guise on the +balcony?" + +"Of course not, this is my robe de nuit. I have not yet put on the +tights." + +"But it is impossible for me to believe it, Madame." + +"If seeing is believing, you will believe it, Monsieur, this costume +will do for the present," and Madame, without more ado, proceeded to +unlock the glass door opening on the balcony, and was apparently in the +act of stepping out when Danton managed to get between her and it. + +"Madame! Madame! you cannot mean this! Augustine! Augustine! Chérie!" + +There was no mistaking the tenderness of his tone. + +Madame took her hand from the lock. + +"Ah, Danton, Danton, why did you ever allow 'Le Vieux Corsaire' to come +between you and me--married these twenty years. I, proud of my husband +always, and he, I think, had no reason to be ashamed of me." + +"My love! My pride! My noble Augustine! Nothing shall come between us." + +"But it has, Danton. Your 'Vieux Corsaire,' and your 'Drapeau Rouge,' +and your 'mangeurs de prêtres'--you have brought it all between you and +me and between our child and her happiness." + +"Down with the 'Drapeau Rouge!' Augustine, let me disarrange that fatal +flag," and he ran to the balcony, and, with a few deft and rapid tugs, +drew out the blue folds and the white folds from the festoon of bunting +until the balcony was gay at every point with the hues of the orthodox +and veritable tricolour. Then he rushed back into the room, his arms +outspread, his eyes streaming, his breast panting, a little geyser and +volcano of emotion. + +"Come to my bosom, my Augustine! Lucille, where art thou?" + +Lucille ran to him. + +"Thy father is an ogre. Oh, no, no; no more! Thou shalt have thy +lieutenant, the choice of thine own heart, my child, and thy father's +blessing a thousand thousand times. Nothing shall come between us again, +Augustine. Thy Danton is thine, and thine only--thine and Lucille's." + +"Thou wilt not mind what they will say at the 'Vieux Corsaire,'" +murmured Madame between her sobs. + +"Vieux diable! Vieux sac-à-papier. No more cares thy Danton what +they say. Que mon nom soit flétri--là bas--que mes chéries soient +heureuses!" + +"That's my good Danton," said Madame, wiping her eyes with her +handkerchief and disengaging her ample form from the little man's fond +embrace. + +"Then Madame will wear to-day the black passementerie instead of the +costume Ninth Thermidor," said Julie, the bonne, discreetly at the door. + +"Yes, Julie, we will witness the procession this morning, clothed in our +right clothes--and in our right mind, eh, my Danton." + +"Mon chou!" + + * * * * * + +There was a wedding shortly afterwards at the Church of Notre Dame de +Merploer which gave great scandal at the Vieux Corsaire. The ceremony +even included a nuptial sermon from the curé. But Danton Martin never +turned up afterwards--then or ever again--to be scourged with the +merited scorn of his fellow philosophers. They agreed that he had fallen +under the tyranny of the "jupon." + + + + +SEALY, BRYERS & WALKER'S + +Newest Publications. + + + =Legends and Poems.= By John Keegan. Now First Collected. Edited by + the late Very Rev. J. Canon O'Hanlon, M.R.I.A. With Memoir by D. J. + O'Donoghue. Crown 8vo, cloth. 586 pages. 3s. 6d. + + =By the Barrow River and other Stories.= By Edmund Leamy. With a + Foreword by Katharine Tynan. Portrait of Author. Crown 8vo, cloth. + 3s. 6d. + + =A Celtic Fireside.= Stories of Rural Irish Life. By Thomas M. + Flynn. Crown 8vo, paper cover. 1s. + + =The Story of Our Lord for Children.= By Katharine Tynan. With + commendatory letter of His Eminence Cardinal Logue. Eight full page + illustrations. 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Also the following changes +have been made, on page + + 19 "heartstone" changed to "hearthstone" (the crackling fire upon + the hearthstone lighting the faces) + 27 "occured" changed to "occurred" (It occurred to me to turn into) + 69 "tho" changed to "the" (he should excite the curiosity of the + maiden) + 70 "tho" and "tbe" changed to "the" (overcome by the weary journey + and the hospitality) + 72 "exclamed" changed to "exclaimed" (suddenly exclaimed the last + come guest) + 122 "O'More" changed to "O'Moore" (and Rory O'Moore,' was his reply.) + 211 "Glasson" changed to "Jephson" (very strong affection for Ralph + Jephson) + 239 "Willaim" changed to "William" (that he, William, should get + sick of jail fever). + +Otherwise the original has been preserved, including inconsistencies in +spelling and hyphenation. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of By the Barrow River, by Edmund Leamy + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42555 *** |