Irishmen and Irishwomen

UC-NRLF

!Y^\
.1BRARY I
UNIVERSITY Of I
CALIFORNIA/

IRISHMEN

IRISHWOMEN.

BY THE AUTHOR OF

"HYACINTH O'GARA;" "IRISH PRIESTS AND ENGIISH
LANDLORDS," &c. &c.

THIRD EDITION.

DUBLIN:
RICHARD MOORE TIMS, GRAFTON-RTREET ;

HAMILTON AND ADAMS, LONDON ; AND
WAITGH & INNES, EDINBURGH.

M.DCCC.XXXT,

LOAN STACK

Printed by P. D. H*rdy, Cecilin-slrfet.

IRISHMEN AND IRISHWOMEN.

CHAPTER I.

If was the fair day of Derrynaslieve, an inconside-
rable village in one of the north-west counties of Ire-
land. The weather was favourable, and though prices
were low, and consequently but little business tran-
sacted, still there was a large concourse of people,
and a good deal of noise and bustle. Besides those
who resorted to it for the purpose of buying and sell-
ing, there was, as usual, a large assemblage of idlers,
of both sexes, arid all a'ges ; who, singly, or in small
parties, sauntered up and down the principal, or in-
deed the only street : at one time, tumbling over the
goods exposed for sale in the different booths, cheap-
enijg articles which they had no money to purchase ;
now congregating round a lame man, in a sailor's
dress, who sung the poetical story of his own disas-
ters ; and then taking their stand on the raised paved-
way before the door of some public-house, staring at
the passengers, or valuing the various purchases of
their acquaintances.

2 IRISHMEN AND

Among the numbers thus employed, one group was
eminently conspicuous for the indefatigable perseve-
rance with which they lounged through the whole
extent of the fair-ground. It consisted of a tall,
elderly man, in a long, grey frieze coat, followed by
a tall, elderly woman, in a long, blue mantle ; close
after whose heels came a tall girl, in a red shawl,
and a drab-coloured cloak thrown over one arm.
They had all the same slingeing, heavy gait ; all,
the same vacant look, and the same indiscriminate
curiosity, which was attracted by any thing, however
common, and never satisfied till after the most minute
inspection. No obstruction impeded their progress,
which, though slow, was sure. They kept on their
straight-forward course, undisturbed in the middle of
a drove of unruly pigs, or in the more perilous en-
counter of a score of long-horned bullocks ; and even
when the mail-coach horn caused a general scamper
to the right and left, the movement by which they
avoided the wheels, within a hair's breadth of their
feet, was imperceptible — the old lady calmly conti-
nuing her conversation over her shoulder with her
daughter, as she measured on her finger the shawl
which had already been subjected three times to the
same operation in the course of the day, while her
husband as composedly compared a piece of velve-
teen, just bought by a neighbour, with the material
of the same stuff forming the collar of his own coat.
During their peregrination, they assisted in making
every bargain, and examined every article within
reach of their hands, and had a word for every body,
whether stranger or acquaintance, alternately speak-
ing in English or Irish, according to the education of

IRISHWOMEN. 3

their hearers. As the day advanced, and all the no-
velties of the fair were pretty well exhausted, their
progress gradually slackened. They made longer
pauses, apparently at a loss to know what to do with
themselves ; sometimes giving but a passing glance
at the various objects, which had before engrossed so
much of their attention ; now and then stopping to
read a stanza of the sailor's lament, and other bal-
lads, which they had purchased ; and at length, as if
fairly tired out, they stopped before the window of
what was formerly, in vulgar parlance, called the
apothecary's shop, but now professed, in large letters
of blue and gold, to be the New Medical Hall.

" Look at Christie Balf, and his wife and daugh-
ter," said a man at the opposite side of the street,
who was tying up his yarn, which he had in vain
offered for sale. <{ I am attending every fair and
market in the country these thirty-four years, and I
never once missed them, to my knowledge, all that
time, stravaguing about, just as you see them now,
whether they had business in it, or no."

" You're out in your reckoning, Billy," said a
neighbour. " His long daughter, Margaret, there,
isn't passing twenty ; and, to my mind, Christie him-
self wasn't married as far back as you say, for his
oldest child is only the same standing as my brother
Tom."

" Pah ! man," replied the other, " what is a handful
of years, one way or other? I know whnt I know,
any how, that the first market I ever stood in Car-
rickgornbrosna, thirty-four years ago last Patrickmas,
Christie was in it. I wont be sure of the wife then,
but she soon was after him ; and then the childer

c2

4 IRISHMEN AND

soon began to flock after her, till they were all mar-
ried, only her in the red shawl, there."

" Ileen," said he, turning to a girl loaded with gin-
gerbread and apples, fairings from the young men,
among whom she appeared to have a very general
acquaintance, " it would be as well for you, if you
had company down that lonesome road, after you pass
the castle ; and you know it's as short for me to go
home by Kiladarne, as any other way."

" I'm for ^ver obliged to you, Billy," answered
Ileen j " but I wouldn't be after keeping you, by no
means, seeing it may be late before I get going. I've
a trifle of tape to buy for the mistress, not counting
a crooked comb for myself. Besides, there will be
, plenty going my way, and I can be at no loss. Still,
I am not the less thankful to you, Billy. Put them
apples and cakes into your pocket for the childer —
they'll be looking for a fairing, poor things, and it
would be a pity to baulk them."

' e Ileen," said her friend, " I have a wish for you.
as I had for your father before you. You are young
and innooent, and have a cheerful way with you, that
makes every body fond of your company. You ought
to take care of yourself, girl. You make too much
freedom with one that's come of people there's no
trusting; and though he has smooth talk enough,
and there is no disparagement to his manners, as far
as I see ; yet, take an advice from a friend, Ileen, dean,
and keep .your distance with him. You know who I
mean."

" Never fear me/' she replied, gaily. " There's no
harm in a merry heart, Billy Kilroy. I couldn't be
dark, if I had a hundred pound to my portion ; and,

IRISHWOMEN. O

as for them you reflect upon, there's worse in the
world. Though, after all, what need I care who's
bad, or who's good, when I have nothing to say to
them ? Ho ! come back here, you, Murtagh Curn-
musky/' calling to a man, who, with his tinkers' bud-
get on his back, was trudging fast down the street.
" No wonder you are ashamed to look me in the face,
after the way you treated the mistress ; keeping her
own tay-kittle in agitation this ever so long, when all
it wants is to solder the handle, that is coming off as
fast as it can. What will you say for yourself, when
I am scalded out of my life, by your dallying ?"

" Only keep a steady hand," said the tinker, " till
the day after to-morrow, when, if I'm alive, I'll make
the kittle better than new. Never bleeve me, but I
couldn't call since I hard I was wanting, being up the
country, with my hands fuller than they could hold."

" You're foully belied, Murtagh," she answered,
with the same good-humoured manner, "if you haven't
more ways nor one of turning a penny. The people
has it, that you are a cliver hand at mending a gun,
and fire-arms of that sort."

"Why will you be speaking so foolishly, out before
the whole fair ?" said Cummusky, angrily, " and no
knowing who is listening. What business has any one
to fault a struggling man, for helping himself as well
as he can, these hard times? I do nothing I am
afraid or ashamed of, only I don't like to have lies go
out on me."

( ' Don't be angry, Murtagh. I thought you was
one would take a joke, you are so fond of giving one.
I'll say no more, if it vexes you ; so, like a good boy.,

6 IRISHMEN AND

don't delay the kittle; for it's the greatest heart-scald
I ever had, since the hour I was born." 4

' ' You are too free with your tongue, and remem-
ber I tell you, you'll bring trouble on yourself, Ileen,
if you haven't a thought," said Kilroy, as the tinker
walked sulkily away. " The times requires a man to
look about him, and only to see straight before him
You ought ?nt repeat what you hear, or pass a remark
on what don't concern you. The law of the country
is very strict, and nobody is safe from his own bro-
ther, if he goes beyant it."

Kilroy was stopped in his good-natured lecture, by
the approach of the Balf family, who, having ex-
hausted all the wonders of the Medical Hall window,
crossed the street to condole with him on his ill-luck
with his yarn.

" Troth, Mr. Balf," sighed he, "the world's gone
to the bad entirely. Here I lost my whole day, try-
ing to sell my wife's little industry — herself lying
weak enough at home— and I wasn't offered the first
cost of the flax, let alone any thing for the labour and
spinning."

" There's others as bad off as yourself, and worse,
too, Billy," cried an old woman, who then joined the
party, driving a pig before her, tied by one of the
hinder legs with a hay rope, the other end of which
she held in her hand. " What do you think I was
offered for this elegant slip? — Just eight shillings,
when, last year, I sold the fellow of it for five-an.l-
twenty." >

" It's a good pig for its size, sure enough," said
Christie, handling the animal all over, in spite of its

IRISHWOMEN. 7

manifest dislike of such treatment,, intimated by kick-
ing and squeeling most outrageously.

" It's a good pig, in troth, Alice," repeated Mrs.
Balf, also handling it scientifically, ffand trouble
enough you had to rear it. But whatever is come
over the world, there's no luck to any body. There's
Mr. Oglandby's fine bullocks walked home again to
the Carragh, without any one so much as axing them
what brought them here."

" Little matter about him," said the old woman,
crossly ; ee let him kill them and eat them all himself.
What luck could he have after turning out his poor
tenants, without a roof over their heads, or a bit to
put in their mouths ? If I'm not out in my reckoning,
he'll sup sorrow for that turn, before long."

" Better not to be reckoning, Alice," said Christie,
looking round him anxiously. " Here's Father Duff
coming up the street, and you know he's a man loves
pace, and warns his flock not to be thinking bad
thoughts, nor speaking bad parables."

"What bad was I thinking, or what bad was I
speaking, to be threatened with the priest, Mr. Balf?
What bad is there in it, if the poor won't lie down to
be ground to powder, by them that keeps their law-
ful right from them ? Father Duff is one of the ould
stock, that lets the world take its course, afraid of
bringing himself into trouble. And sign's on it, he is
letting others get all the respect and duty he might
have kept, if he took the part of the wronged."

ee I'd be sorry to have your bad word, Alice." said
Balf; " but I can't let that go with you about Father
Duff; for don't I know, myself, that it was another
world, when they were all like him. Neighbours then

8 IKISHMEN AND

lived in friendship and good-will with other, and a
man wasn't careful what he'd say by his own fire-side
Now, if it isn't a poor life one has between all sides.
When one is willing to be quite, and take the world
asy, it won't do. One must have a hand in what's
going on, or lead the life of a mad dog — and what's
more, the breath in one's body isn't safe."

" Times will mend soon," said Alice, in a low voice.
" The committee will clear the country— they will^
blue as you look. It's out of the power of the gen-
tlemen, and of the poliss — aye, and of the army, too,
to say again them ; and when we are up, what's to
hinder goodness being plenty ? Every body's hand
will be wanted to help ; and if them that stands back
now, and shows no good- will to the cause, should
happen upon a tritle of mischance, who's to blame
for that, Mr. Balf ?"

" Christie, come away," said his wife, endeavour-
ing to conceal her alarm, by speaking fast. "I'm
fairly foundered, tramping about all the day ; and the
clouds will be dark before we get home, make what
haste we may."

" It's time for me to be going, too," said Alice —
"and wasn't it lucky that I lit upon you, Ileen, to be
with me to the very door ? You'll be good help to
me to drive this troublesome brute, that is more wil-
ful and cross-grained than all the pigs in the parish
put together."

" 1*11 be after you, Alice, but I couldn't go this mi-
nute—my business isn't near done. I've a bit of tape
to buy for the mistress ; and plenty of rummaging I'll
have before I get what I want, she's so curious
about tape. You may as well be going on — you won't

IRISHWOMEN.

be at the Old Forth till I'm up with you; only don't
stop for me, as there's no knowing how long I may be
k ep, with all I have to do/

" If you're waiting for any body, Ileen, you'll have
to stop longer nor might be agreeable to the mistress.
I was speaking to him just now, the other side of the
bridge, and he has something in hand will keep him far
in the evening. So, if that's all your hindrance, come
along, and blessings on you, give me a help with this
one."

" Sure I told you," said the other, " that it is un-
possible for me to quit it, without the tape ; and sup-
posing I was waiting for any body, small blame to
me for wishing other company besides yourself and
your pig — all the while meaning no disrespect to one
or other. Why don't you bring Lanty with you, and
make some use of him, instead of letting him sit on
the wall the whole day, frightening the crows?"

" When you're axed your advice," growled Alice,
kicking her pig on before her, " you're welcome to
give it. The child got better rearing nor yourself;
and if you don't drop some of your ways, you'll come
to the wall yet, I tell you."

The Balfs had by this time moved down the street
homeward. Kilroy was already out of sight; and
when Alice took her departure, Ileen again crossed
the fair-ground, and was proceeding at a quick pace
in the direction of the bridge, when she was arrested
in her career by an elderly man, who. with a voice of
authority, inquired why she was not half way home
by that time.

" The neighbours," he continued, " have all quit
the place before this, and here you are, taking your

B3

10 IRISHMEN AND

diversion, as if you had nothing to do at home !
More than that, is it a proper thing for the like of
you to be walking four miles, all alone by yourself,
this time of evening, with the roads full of drunken
men and stavaguers, that a dasent girl would shun as
she would poison ?**

" Sure I must do my business," she replied, " or
what use in my coming to the fair at all? I've a bit
of tape to buy for the mistress, and it was as well to
wait till now, being the best time for a bargain. . I'll
slip in to Dinnis Devin's this minute, who is remark-
able for tape. Then, as for company, Alice O'Neil
and her pig is watching for me near the big Forth, so
I'll be at no loss for a care-keeper/'

"You were never at a loss for an answer," said her
master; " but if Alice is with you you're safe enough.
Mind," he added, calling after her as she entered the
shop, " be home in no time like another, or you'll
hear more about it."

The bargain with Dennis Devins was quickly made,
and Ileen, after reconnoitering from the shop door, to
be sure that the coast was clear, again sallied out ;
but instead of obeying her master's injunctions as to
returning home, still proceeded in the contrary direc-
tion. She crossed the bridge in haste, and did not
slacken her pace till she had reached the last house
on that side of the village, when, apparently at a loss
she as quickly retraced her steps, and stopped in the
middle of the bridge for a few minutes, alternately
giving a long, tip-toe look on either side.

"Ah! Jenny, dear!" said she to a woman, who
had stopped to adjust her numerous bundles, " did
you see any body at all coming down the back lane ?"

IRISHWOMEN. 11

" Can't you as well ax me if I have my eye-sight,
at once ?" returned Jenny. " Sure I'd be blinder
nor my father's blind mare, if I couldn't see plenty of
people, when the place is throng with them."

" I thought/' said Ileen, carelessly, " that maybe
you might tell me whereabouts Biddy St. Leger is*
She borrowed my thimble near a month ago, and I'm
fairly lost for want of it. If I could see her, or her
mother, or her sister, or any one belonging to her, it
wonld be greatly in my way, for this finger is racked
to no end, when I take the needle in my hand/'

" If you only want to send her word," said her
friend, " you can be at no loss ; for Connel himself,
and his comrade, Wat Delahunt, was this minute
buying powder for blasting, at Mr. Siggins's : if you
make haste, you'll be up with them before they turn
the corner."

<e Blessings on you, Jenny," said the damsel, again
moving briskly on ; (e I'll never rest till I get it back
again ; for nobody that hasn't to sew shop-linen with-
out a thimble, knows what trouble is."

The object of her search was, at length, happily at-
tained. The two young men were just leaving the
shop as she arrived ; and she instantly commenced
an attack, half in jest, half in earnest, upon him who
seemed to be the elder of the two, accusing him of
breaking his promise, and delaying her till that time
of the evening.

" Don't be angry, Ileen, and all for nothing, too ;
for how can a man help it, if he can't be as good as
hie word. Besides, didn't I bid Alice tell you not to
wait, seeing how I mightn't be able to leave it till too
late for you?"

12 IRISHMEN AND

" Maybe it was her pig you gave the message to,"
replied Ileen, gaily ; " for the brute was the civilest of
the two when I spoke to them. But/' suddenly
changing her tone and manner, " night work is bad
work, Connel, and your name is up for meddling in
what you have no call to : come home now, and have
no hand in their foolishness—leave it to them that
has nothing else to do/'

"The never a bit of foolishness I have in hand,
Ileen; so put that out of your head, once for all.
Can't a man have a little business to do, without a
wonder being made of it ? Ax Wat here, if I'm
about any harm, barring what is right and proper."

" Why need I ax him, when I have yourself to
make answer ? — one that's never at a loss for words,
good nor bad. So tell me this minute, Connel, what
business you have at all to hinder your going home
like another?"

" Isn't she the complate pattern of a minister ca-
techizing the little boys for not going to school ?"
asked Connel, with a laugh, addressing his compa-
nion. fc If she takes to preaching entirely, there will
be no room for poor fellows like us in the country,
with all the advisings we'll get."

" I'll not be put off with a joke, Connel ; for it
would be no joke if you brought trouble on yourself,
though you went into it with a smile on your face.
I once came between ypu and shame, when Wat De-
lahunt and others hadn't sense or judgment to see
what was before them. And how thankful were you
afterwards ; and how did you promise never to go
through with a job if my word was contrary to it ?
80 give it over, whatever it is, and come along with

IRISHWOMEN. 13

me, who am venturing my place and living this very
minute for your sake."

"No matter if you lost your place to-morrow,
Ileen, for it has ruined you. Moping with Mrs. Cos-
tigan has taken away all your life and spirits- — you
that was noted for never having a sour look, or a
word of bad humour. But if you were my father or
my mother, I couldn't give in to your fancies now
Yourself would be breaking your heart right a-head
after, if I was to be said by you in this manner.
Mr. Mulvaney, who has contracted for the new road,
ordered me to meet him without fail this evening,
to settle about that bit that runs by the Lough. If
I'm not on the spot, the Finnagans will take the job
over my head ; and then the whole country may be
married before I could scrape money enough to pay
the priest, let alone building a house that I could
take a dasent girl to."

He had scarcely concluded his speech, when Ileen,
who had been listening rather impatiently, suddenly
darted from the foot-path, and running at full speed,
was out of sight in a moment, having taken to the
fields, through which there was a short cut to the
high road. The cause of this rapid movement was
quickly explained tby the appearance of her master,,
who, accompanied by Mr. Duff, rode slowly down the
lane.

" Boys," said Mr. Costigan, when he arrived at the
place where the two young men were still standing,
' f was that Ellen Garvey was talking to you now ?"

" Is it Ellen Garvey you mean, Mr. Costigan ?"
asked Connel with a very civil air.

" Why, who else would I mean, when I told you

14 IRISHMEN AND

her Christian name, and her sirname, both ? What
way would I explain myself better ?"

" She that's the widdy's daughter above the mills
of Clasheen ?" again inquired Connel.

"What is it to you whose daughter she is? I
asked you a plain question, and I expect a plain
answer before your clargy here. Was that Ellen Gar-
vey, my girl, who run off when she caught a glimpse
of me at the turn ?"

" Oh ! not a bit of her, Sir. It was Tim Fahy's
sister. Wasn't it, Wat ? She was looking for a man
that owes her a trifle of change out of a firkin of
butter she sold him this morning. I suppose it was
the green shawl you took for Ileen, Mr. Costigan ;
but as for that matter, there's no end to shawls now-
a-days."

" That Ellen Garvey," said her master to the
priest, as they continued to ride together, "is a
galloper-^a rale galloper. Not that there is any harm
in the girl ; nor would I say a word to her miscredit,
for it is a pleasure to have her in one's house, she is
so cheerful and willing, and withal tender and kind-
ly. But she is all for company-keeping, and makes
more freedom than is becoming with Connel St.
Leger, considering his character is none of the best/'

"Young people will be foolish, Ned," answered
Mr. Duff; "and she'll mend naturally when she
gets old."

" Aye : but in the mean time she may light upon
misfortune, if she don't mind herself; and I'd be as
sorry as if she was my own child. Ah ! no— it isn't

the truth to say that ; for you know, Mr. Duff

Well ! what's come over me, to be blundering this

IRISHWOMEN. 35

way, as if a lone man, like you, could know any
thing about it ? But there is a feeling in the heart
about one's own child, which never rises for any
thing else in the world : one may be glad, and one
may be sorry, for many a thing — but there is nothing
like the gladness, and nothing like the sorrowfulness,
that comes to a man from his own. So, you see, Mr,
Duff, my meaning is, that I'd be right sorry if that
foolish Ileen was to go to the bad, only through inno-
cence ; and it would be a good turn, if you gave her
a check, one of these days, when you call at the
house/'

"I'll settle her," said the priest; "let me alone
for that, Ned." And then added, with a sort of sigh,
" I wish there was nothing worse among the people
than what we can lay to her charge."

" You may say that," rejoined his companion, with
an expressive nod; and the conversation suddenly
stopped, each being apparently unwilling to continue
the subject alluded to by the priest — and yet en-
grossed by it, so as to occupy their thoughts for a
considerable time. At length, Mr. Costigan, recover-
ing from his reverie, again addressed his fellow-tra-
veller—

" Ah ! but Mr. Duff, what will I do with my wo-
man ? Instead of better, it's worse she is growing
every day. The half of her isn't in it, and she will
be wore away to nothing if she goes on as she is go-
ing— and no sign of her getting better."

" Can't you take her to the salt water, Ned, where
she always got her health in harvest ? It may be
troublesome with your hands full of business ; but a

16 IRISHMEN AND

man of your substance oughtn't to stand upon a trifle
of money, when a thing like that is considered."

" If she would eat gold, she might have it, and
welcome/' said Costigan, with great earnestness.
" There's no want of good will in me to go any
where, or do any thing would bring comfort to her
heart ; but, Mr. Duff, what good would it do a poor
creature to go to that perishing place in the middle
of November, when every body else is running away
from it."

"That's true, Ned. I did'nt remember how far
gone it was in the year; though for that matter,
late or early I never had much faith in the sea, and
when I recommended it, it was only for the sake of
variety. Variety, Ned, is good for man and beast,
and why not for woman, too ?"

" And hasn't she plenty of that, Mr. Duff, if it
was any use to her ? Do I ever quit her side, only
when my business calls me out? And do I ever
stop saying the same thing to her over and over
again, from the minute I get up till I lie down? Ah !
Mr. Duff, it isn't flitting from one place to another
will answer, when one can't leave their load behind
them. It is'nt variety will please, when only one
thing will content the heart; and it's a crushing-
down thing to a man, when he knows he can't find
that, travel where he may."

" It is our duty, you know, Ned, to be resigned to
the will of God."

" I believe you well, Mr. Duff; but isn't it a piti-
ful thing when one don't know how to be resigned ?
I sometimes try it ; and, I hope it is'nt a sin, but I

IRISHWOMEN. 17

often draw down myself as a pattern to her, to show
how cheerful I am, when, all the time, I am as bad
as herself, only I look grave, and, now and then, talk
cross to the men, when she is within hearing/'

" That's all can be expected from a man like you,
Ned, and you show your sense by trying to keep up
your spirits. Besides, as I often told you, it is your
duty, as a Christian, not to be thinking too seriously,
or letting your wife's brain be running on fancies, to
the neglect of her house, and things of consequence.
You know, Ned," he continued, with much feeling
and kindness of voice and manner — -"You know,
Ned, I pity you both from my heart, and that I gave
you all the advice one could give another ; and that
if I could do any thing more, I would do it : but I
know of nothing to bring peace to your mind, but to
leave all in the hands of God, and then settle your
thoughts as well as you can,"

Poor Costigan was overcome by the kind expres-
sions, and kinder manner of his clergyman. He could
not trust his voice for some minutes ; and when he
did speak, it was with considerable agitation, as, in
his usual rambling style, he recapitulated the story of
his grief, for at least the twentieth time, to his good-
natured auditor.

" I was always sure of your friendship, Mr. Duff,
and that you pitied us from the bottom of your
heart; and I leave it to the world, if we an't to be
pitied ! You know, Mr. Duff, I began the world a
struggling man. I worked hard — up early, and down
late, and I was content. Of an odd time, when we
were young, I wont say but I used to think the place-
had a dull loo^ when the other neighbours had ple-n*

18 IRISHMEN AND

ty of them, and more than some of them wanted, to
keep their fire- side alive. But what the eye don't
see, the heart don't grieve after — so it was little trou-
ble to me. Then, after a while, when things begun
to look up about us, it was a vexation to me, at
times, to think that some one who didn't care a
straw about us, would get what we left behind.
Still, we were easy and happy — enjoying ourselves
after a careless sort of a way, being all the world to
one another, and not fretting while we had plenty for
ourselves, and a trifle to give to the poor, which we
never missed. Well, Mr. Duff, I was now drawing
into years — my wife counted forty, and something to
the back of it, when we had one. It came late, and
not expected, but it was the more welcome for that.
It was welcome — and why shouldn't it ? For I be-
lieve yourself will say, Mr. Duff, that the first lord in
the land might be proud to take her on his knee, and
say she belonged to him. Them four years passed
like so many hours. If I was ever so tired, or ever
go vexed, I forgot it all when I heard her foot on the
floor, or caught a glimpse of her running about the
place. It was often a surprise to myself, how a man
of my age could be so new-fangled. It's one of those
things there's no accounting for. Though, after all,
she was not a child after the common sort. Them
that had more knowledge than myself, said that;
and Mrs. Milward, who, every body knows, wouldn't
tell a lie to be made a queen, had a way of asking
after her, that showed what she thought of her. It
was no common disorder could kill that child, Mr.
Duff. The doctors themselves could never tell. So it
came upon us like a blow upon a man in his sleep

IRISHW031EN. 19

and it left us more like crazy, half-witted creatures,
than dasent, Christian people. If I might fret com-
fortably about it, I would be, no comparison, the bet-
ter for it ; but I have to keep up before her ; and
after all my endeavours, she sees through me, and
that encourages her to grieve. Mr. Duff, I look to
you to be more sharp and positive with her, and to
take no excuses if she won't alter her fashion. You
can tell her she ought to be ashamed of herself, and
you can say a hundred other comforting things of
that kind, that would never come into the head of
any man that hasn't reading and edication like you."

" I'll do my best, Ned, you may depend upon it ;
and I advise yourself to put away thinking, for you
are nearly as far gone as the poor woman. I must
now bid you good night, having to call at Toby Shea's
before I go home. The day after to-morrow I will
drop in upon you, and raise her heart with a little
cheerful conversation."

" Do, Mr. Duff; and it will be a happy day, if you
can give her some sense. Sir," he added, stopping
his horse, and lowering his voice to a whisper, *e be
very plain with her, and stout ; for I may as well tell
you, that when she is fairly beside herself, she is too
apt to speak words that may come against her sou!
in another world. Good night to you, kindly, SirA
and my blessing be with you."

20 IRISHMEN AND

CHAPTER II,

WHEN Connel St. Leger and his companion were
relieved from the importunities of Ileen, by the unwel-
come approach of her master, they proceeded with-
out further interruption to the place of rendezvous
appointed by Mulvaney. It was an upper room in
the house of a publican, in Derrynaslieve, where, if
common report could be trusted, all the mischief in
the country was hatched. Mulvaney, an elderly man
with a good-humoured countenance, was seated at a
table near the fire, with writing materials before him ;
supported on either side by two men, apparently of
his own rank in life, which was that of a respectable,
middling farmer. Five or six peasants, the majority
very young men, belonging to the class of labourers,
occupied seats at the lower end of the table ; while
close into the chimney-corner was squatted Murtagh
Cummusky, smoking a pipe, his eyes closed, and his
body bending forward, so that his crossed arms rested
firmly on his knees.

"Always late, Connel St. Leger," said Mulvany, on
the entrance of the young men — " and that's not what
could be said of one of your family before, when any
work for the good of the people was in hand. Your
poor uncle Tom, who died like a hero thirty years
ago, and more, was clock-work itself at a meeting ;
and he did more nor any other ten men put together
for the country,"

IRISHWOMEN.

21

" If any body's to blame/' replied St. Leger, care-
lessly, " it's ould Alice, your spy, who brought me
word that the committee wouldn't sit till it was upon
the stroke of five ; and any body that ever knew
there was a sun in the sky, may see it isn't long past
four, this blessed minute."

f( And you, Wat," continued Mulvaney, without
noticing Connel's unceremonious justification of his
punctuality, (< you ought to show yourself a boy of
spirit, if every other was to lag behind. The Dela-
hunts were another sort of people long ago, from what
they are now. The broad fields of Carragh made a
handsome show, when their sheep and cattle grazed
on them, before the Oglandbys and Thorndales built
park- walls, and planted trees round them, to hinder
the rightful owners from having even the poor plea-
sure of looking at them. Why, Wat, one would
think you'd jump over the moon, for a chance of get-
ting the inheritance of your forefathers back again."
"I'm ready and willing to do the committee's or-
ders," said Delahunt, sturdily. "If I wasn't I
wouldn't be here this evening. But it never was for
the lucre of gain that I signed my hand to the paper,
I came into the plan, first, from love to my comrade
here, and 1*11 stick to it, for the honor of my religion,
without expecting favor or affection more nor ano-
ther."

" Well, boys," said Mulvaney, " I'm glad to see
the stuff you're made of. A hundred the like of you,
would soon clear Ireland of them that won't leave
the poor even what the cold earth itself gives them,
barring the day-light and the spring water ; and, to
my knowledge, both one and other of them is paid for

22 IRISHMEN AND

in Dublin, And how short a time, may I ax you, will
the mail coach be bringing down that order to us,
when Lord Colverston, and Sir Ralph Thorndale, and
Jack Oglandby, and other Orange magistrates and
Brunswickers, will write to tell the Castle, that we
are nothing but cattle, with horns and hoofs ? Aye,
boys, that's hanging over us, and worse to follow, if
we don't stir ourselves. So now for business. — You
see, boys, none of the gentlemen of the committee
could meet here this evening, but myself and Mr.
Taaffe, and Mr. Flaghoolagh ; but here is their
names to the paper, with all drawn out reglar, that
is demanded from you, according to your oath. Now
listen, while I call over your names — Tim Fahy,
Connel St. Leger, Wat Delahunt, Yal. Tigue— -it's
put on you four to shoot old Jack Oglandby in his
coach, next Wednesday evening, at the grove be-
tween the bridge and Carragh."

" With all the joy of my heart," said Connel, ' ' or
any body else that's marked. But how are we to
get at him ? Are we to send him a civil message to
drive out, and be shot dasently, without more trou-
ble ? For who ever saw him out after night-fall this
many a long day ?"

" Leave you jeering, Connel. Better heads than
yours have settled all that. There's to be a grand
dinner at Charlesborough next Wednesday. The
whole country will be there to meet the English Lord,
who is come to look after his estates. Jack Ogland-
by will be there among the rest, to fill the stranger's
mind with stories against his poor tenants : so, as the
thing was settled long ago, the committee thinks it
would be a good time to get him out of the way

IBISHWOMEN. 23

when he is coming back that lonesome road. Then
it will be a good lesson to the Englishman, if he has
thoughts of grinding us like the rest of them."

" It's more the business of the Carragh boys, nor
ours," said Fahy. " Why should it be put on us,
when they will be the gainers in the end ?"

" The Carragh boys wouldn't be backward if they
were called to it," said Cummusky, from the chim-
ney-corner ; " and a good reason the committee had
for not putting it on them, because they would be
the first suspected, having a right to hate the ground
he walks on. It isn't becoming to reflect upon them
that can't answer; but this I'll say for them, that
knows their mind, they don't want to save themselves
trouble, and when you have a job to do at your own
door, the boys from Carragh will be at your whis-
tle."

' ' We'll do our own business, and theirs too," said
Connel ; ' ' and we'll never whistle for them, if it isn't
to dance to our music. Tim was only jealous that
they'd get the credit of it all to themselves. Wasn't
that it, Tim ? But, Mr. Mulveney, wont I have the
big blunderbuss ? There is no man has a better
right to it nor myself, having primed and loaded it
before, and done a trifle of work with it, or I'm mis-
taken ?"

" Never a man but yourself shajl draw the trigger,
Connel, while you have a finger on your hand ; and
Tim shall have the fellow of it, to put him in good
humour. Wat has a gun of his own, and Val. Tigue
shall be accoutered like a gentleman with the piece
was taken from the young chap at Clough."

24 IRISHMEN AND

" But are you sure of the day, or that the old fel-
low will be in it at all ?" inquired St. Leger.

"Ah I folly, man!" cried the tinker. "What
need to be axing questions ? Sure it was myself
gave the notice ; and if you want marks and tokens,
here they are for you — I was told it by Will Travers>
his own coachman, and I soldered one of the lamps
where the top was crazy."

"There's no doubt about it," said Mulvaney: "so,
boys, be prepared. Myself, and maybe one or two
others, will mete you at the dance at Briny Killion's,
on Tuesday evening, where we can settle the business
out and out. Don't fail, every one of you four, to be
in it, and remember your oaths about drink."

" It can't be done a- Wednesday," said Delahunt,
who had been for some time evidencing symptoms of
disapprobation, though unperceived by his associates.
" There is an entire unpossibility, I tell you, to do it
then, and it must be dropped for this turn."

"What's come over you, all on a suddent?" ex-
claimed St. Leger, rather angrily.

"Nothing strange," replied his friend. "I only
know he will have company with him in the coach ;
and one wouldn't treat the innocent all as one as the
guilty."

" Ah ! what a bother you make about nothing. To
want and hinder fair play, when we have the ball at
our foot ! What matter what company he has ? They
must take share of his supper, if they eat their din-
ner off the same plate, and sorrah mend them."

" If you was to jibe till you're tired, Connel, it
would make no differ. Mr. Mulvaney — gentlemen —

IRISHWOMEN.

25

all of you— just hear me out. I was yesterday at
Rathedmond, and the whole talk of the kitchen was
of the great doings at Charlesborough ; and how the
parson passed his apology because the mistress was
weakly ; and Mrs. Falconer would not go, say what
they would. But Lady Thorndale would not be de-
nied about Miss Dora ; and all the servants was hap-
py, when it was settled that old Mr. Oglandby would
take her there in his coach, and bring her back safe
to her father and mother, who can't b^ar to have her
a minute out of their sight. Now, T put it to your
breasts, if it would be right or becoming to destroy
the like of her, only for having the luck of sitting be-
side her old grand-uncle ?"

f( There's sense and reason in that/' said Val. Tigue.
<c Whatever we are, we are not savages ; and none
other would raise a hand to injure her."

This sentiment was quickly re-echoed by all the
assembly, with the exception of Mulvaney and Mur-
tagh Cummusky, who, from his smoky seat, muttered
an imprecation against cowards and informers, and
laid down his pipe, to watch the event of this inter-
ruption.

(f I believe, gentlemen," said Mulvaney, addressing
the committee men, " that we have no business to be
listening to fellows laying down the law to us, when
all they have to do is to go straight forward, where-
ver we order them. If every gossoon that is fright-
ened at the smell of powder, is to contradict men of
courage and understanding, and men who are endan-
gering their own lives for the good of the poor, we
may as well give over at once, and let them be all
sold for slaves — them, and their innocent children.

c

26 IRISHMEN AND

But that shan't be. If we have a traitor among us,
let him die the death of a traitor. He shan't escape,
if he was my own brother — mind that. And I warn
you all, boys, if you flinch when your service is
wanted, as it is now, you'll be made such examples,
that people will stop their e.ars through dread of
hearing your doom."

" There's no traitors or informers here, Mr. Mulva-
ney," said ConneL "If Wat spoke in a hurry, it's
what many a better man done before him; and I'll
promise for him, he'll stand his ground like a man,
when his mark is before him Wednesday night.
Look up, Wat, and show yourself true to your friend
and your oath."

"Oh I Mr. Mulvaney — oh ! boys !" shouted the poor
fellow, in a tone of agony, "it would be a downright
murder to shoot the young lady, and"

" Will no one put a gag in his mouth ?" cried Mul-
vaney, " before the police comes in upon us. Boys,
what are you made of, that you didn't put his head
under the grate, at the very first word of wickedness
that came out of his lips ? What's come over you to
listen to his preaching ? What is it to any of you, if
mischief was to happen to a young girl, when the
first blow is struck for the glory of God, and the good
of Ireland ? And if the ball that rids the world of a
tyrant, finishes her at the same time, what great harm
is done? An't it what she deserves? Doesn't the
blood of the hanging, scourging, torturing, flaying
Oglandbys, flow thick in her veins ? Hadn't she one
to her grandfather, who hunted Christians with blood-
hounds in the time of the rebellion ? Your uncle, Con-
nel St. Leger, was one of them, and his blood calls

IRISHWOMEN. 27

for revenge from you. Isn't she daughter to him who
draws his living from the hard earnings of the poor,
and would tear the only fould of a blanket from the
desolate orphan, sooner nor lose one halfpenny of his
tithe ? And is it that such as she may dress in silks
and satins, and ride in a coach, that you will be wil-
ling to be robbed and peeled, till you and your fami-
lies will think it a mercy to be let lie down at the
back of a ditch, and die of hunger, and cold, and
nakedness?"

" There's sense and reason, I believe, in that," said
Murtagh ; " and where's the spalpeen will dar to con-
tradict it?"

"Murtagh Cummusky," said Connel, "you may
fault your budget, and welcome ; but it don't become
you to put names on them that is your betters. And
Mr. Mulvaney, with all submission to you and the
other gentlemen, there's no need to talk to us, as if
we were stocks and stones. There's not a man here
that isn't steady, though for a minute he might be
started at the thought of killing a woman in cold
blood : but they all see it can't be helped ; and a
trifle won't stand in their way, when it comes to the
push. Wat," laying his hand on his shoulders, <e I
answered for you before, and you didn't disparage my
commendation — I pass my word for you now, once
more ; so, think of yourself, and of your character,
and of your oath, not counting the love there is be-
tween us both."

" Mr. Mulvaney," said Wat, shaking off his friend
roughly, " order me to go shoot him in his own par-
lour, in the broad day light, and I'll do it — and I'll
die for it— and they may cut me in pieces, before I'll

c2

28 IRISHMEN AND

betray a hair of one of your heads ; but I couldn't
harm her : why, the very stones would cry out murder
after me, as I walked along the road ; for didn't she
save my own life, and, more nor all, my mother's life,
when the fever frightened all but herself and her fa-
ther from the door? I won't have a hand in her
death— I won't, I say— no, I won't, and that's
enough !"

ee Since he is so positive," said Cummusky, coming
forward, "it's best not to waste time advising him.
Let me take his place. I have a steady hand, and a
quick eye, without bragging of a loyal and stout
heart. All I say, Mr. Mulvaney, is this, that you and
the other gentlemen on the committee, would do well
to know your men before you put the lives of half the
country in their keeping."

ec Keep to your trade, Murtagh, I tell you," said
St. Leger, struggling against the passion which crim-
soned his face, and caused his broad chest to heave
quick and high, though he still spoke with some de-
gree of calmness. "If the lads of this country don't
please you, go back to Minister, wh«re you came
from, and we'll never break our hearts for the loss.
Wat," again putting his hand on his shoulder, and
looking him sternly in the face, "you hear what
flings are cast in your teeth, and what we all come
under from your nonsensicalness. Will I listen to it,
do you think ? Will I be said to have a coward, and
an informer, for my comrade ? Will I lie down with
the curse of my country upon my head, for trusting
a false-hearted and a faint-hearted traitor ? You are
careful about the life of one, who would think it a
compliment to let you clean her shoes ; and have you

IRISHWOMEN. ay

no feeling for me, who would choke my brother for
your sake ? Now choose between me and her, for out
of this room you will never stir till you have my life,
or I have yours, if you don't abide by the orders of
the committee."

"Spake like what is becoming in your breed/'
cried Mulvaney, with a glow of enthusiasm. " And
you, Wat, is all the blood of the Delahunts lashed
out of you by the cat-o'-nine-tails of the Oglandbys,
that a drop of it wont mount to your cheeks, to raise
a blush for your stupidity ?"

In spite of this eloquent appeal to the blood of the
Delahunts, not a particle of it would tinge the pallid
countenance of the young man, as he stood perfectly
still, with his eye fixed upon the ceiling. That he
was inwardly agitated could only be guessed by a
slight quiver of his lips, and the moisture which had
gathered thick on his forehead ; and no one felt in-
clined to break the silence which followed Mulvaney' s
harangue. He shaded his eyes for a moment with
his hand, and then quietly placed it in the eager
grasp of St. Leger,

" Connel, I will stand by you to the last," he said,
in a determined voice. " I will do what I am com-
manded, only don't talk more to me now."

" This is as it should be," said Mulvaney, rubbing
his hands : " and now, boys, let us have one glass a-
piece, and go home like sober men. Wat, I am right
glad you are come to your senses, and my word for
it, you'll never repent taking good advice."

" And, Wat," said Cummusky, winking at Mulva-
ny, as he took the glass in his hand, " don't fret if
you are a sweetheart out of pocket ; only get the

30 IRISHMEN AND

lands of Carragh back again, boy, and you may pick
and choose any lord's daughter in the land, if your
fancy runs that way."

" You tinkering thief," cried Delahunt, in a rage,
<e if you don't stop your jibing at me, I'll brain you
on the spot, no matter who gives you countenance."

" What are you about ?" said Mulvaney, stepping
between them. " Have you no enemies, but friends,
to be fighting with ? Have done, I say, or I'll settle
you both. Take off your glasses quick, and go out
one by one, separately, that there may be no eyes nor
ears to have stories to tell another time. Remember
Tuesday evening, at Briney Killions. Oh ! boys, I
was forgetting — any of you that wants to go to confes-
sion, it is better to be at Biddy Cahill's next Monday,
where Mr. O'Floggin holds a station. Don't be trou-
bling Mr. DufF, who is getting into years, and ought
to have a little rest. The other is young and strong,
and got his edication at Maynooth : so that he under-
stands your meaning better. Don't be stopping in
the town ; and if any body finds out that you were
speaking to me, you know you want to be employed
on the new line, and that I was willing to oblige you
all, after I go over the ground again. That's enough
now, boys. Scatter, scatter/'

IRISHWOMEN. 31

CHAPTER III.

ON the day appointed, Mr. Duff paid his promised
visit to Mrs. Costigan, and exerted all his powers of
rhetoric for the consolation of the poor woman, who
was, as her husband described, a real object of pity
from the deep sorrow which could be traced in her
countenance, even when she did not allude to the
cause. He was received with the usual hearty wel-
come, for he was a general favourite with his flock, at
least with the well-conducted portion of it; and he
was a welcome visitor, at all times, to Mrs. Costigan,
who, in former days, had a greedy ear for that species
of petty gossip, which even the most uninteresting
country neighbourhood can contrive to furnish, if all
its details be husbanded carefully, and properly em-
bellished ; and which Mr. Duff, from his general ac-
quaintance among Protestants and Roman Catholics,
of all ranks and parties, had the best opportunities of
hearing, with, at the same time, rather a propensity
for retailing, especially when sifted by some of his
female acquaintances, who were, in general, very
anxious to know all about the internal economy of
the great houses to which he was occasionally in-
vited.

Though such topics had, of late, lost much of their
interest with Mrs. Costigan, yet she was always glad
to see him, for old acquaintance sake ; and though his
condolence consisted of a string of the veriest matter-

32 IRISHMEN AND

of-fact truisms, which at times irritated, rather than
soothed her, still there was a thorough good-nature in
his feelings, which threw a glow of kindliness over
his most common-place expressions, and repressed
any inclination to be angry. Then he could patiently
listen to the often-repeated story of her grief, which,
in circumstances like hers, is^ perhaps, one of the
kindest offices which a friend can perform.

His visits, therefore, had usually the effect of dis-
sipating, for a time, her sadness, which her husband
put to the account of his wise counsels, not suspect-
ing that the bustle attendant upon his coming, had
by far the greatest share in producing this amend-
ment. In fact, having something to do, is an admir-
able anodyne for intense feeling. That the mind can
be wholly engaged with one overwhelming idea, while
the hands are busied with a variety of things, all to
be put to different uses, or arranged in proper order,
is not true in real, downright experience, though it
may be indispensable to the complete keeping of the
moral picturesque. Occupation, particularly that
which includes locomotion, produces a succession of
ideas in the mind most determined to keep fast hold
of one to the exclusion of all others ; and though the
only effect, at first perceptible, may be a painful sen-
sation of bewilderment and distraction, nevertheless
the keen edge of the feelings is insensibly blunted, and
the more constant the occupation, the sooner will the
intensity of feeling subside. It is from this cause,
that the feelings of the working classes, though vio-
lent in their first flow, appear to exhaust themselves
at once. They have not the leisure to brood over
their sensibilities. While the hands must be busy,,

IRISHWOMEN. Od

their heads cannot be quite uninterested ; and where
head and hands make common cause against the
heart, its throbbings will be kept under.

In this way Mrs. Costigan was unwittingly cheated
of a full half-hour of her monopolizing sorrow, while
preparing the luncheon for her guest, and carving the
cold goose, and worrying herself with trying to draw
the cork of a bottle of Cape wine with a fork, and
pressing him over and over again to eat and drink;
and replenishing his plate and his glass, contrary to
his earnest protestations of being unable to swallow
another mouth-full. Between the intervals of eating,
aud defending his plate from the inroad of provisions,
which might have satisfied the appetite of three hun-
gry men, Mr. Duff contrived to draw off her attention
still farther from herself, by detailing pretty minutely
the various reports of the doings at Charlesborough.
The country, he said, was fairly at a loss to guess
whether the young English lord who had just come
over, would marry the eldest Miss Thorndale, or the
Honourable Miss Traffield, Lord Colverston's daugh-
ter. Most people thought he was bound in honour to
Sir Ralph, who had asked him to his house, and took
so much trouble to please him — inviting the best qua-
lity from all parts to keep him company, and sending
for fish every day to Dublin by the mail-coach. No-
thing could be guessed of what Lord Farnmere him-
self thought, for he was very silent, and took no no-
tice of any body, not even^ of Lady Thorndale, only
sometimes asking the meaning of what was said, like
a child who did not know his letters. The servants
n#ver stopped abusing him, for he gave them more
trouble than all the other coirpany put together,

c3

34 IRISHMEN AND

changing his plate at every bit he put into his mouth,
and, in the end, making his dinner off the very dish
he at first found fault with. The butler, above all,
was ashamed for the house, by his asking for sauces
that nobody ever heard the name of, and spilling the
fine Madeira into the water-glass beside him, as if it
was trash from the ale-house. His silk dressing-
gowns were also the astonishment of all who ever saw
or heard of them ; and his servant was the live-long
day, brushing and shaking, and folding and unfold-
ing, as if he had a barrack to provide with clothing.
As to what his tenants had to expect, not even the
agent could tell, for he gave no encouragement to him
to say a word, but referred all to his law-agent in
London. In short, he was so unaccountable, and so
unlike any body else, that Mrs. Costigan became in-
terested ; and for another half-hour, not only listened,
but asked questions, and made some lively comments,
not much to the nobleman's advantage. Mr. Duff
had succeeded beyond his expectations, and he was
so delighted with the effects* of his conversation, that,
most unfortunately, as he was rising to take leave, he
congratulated her upon recovering her spirits.

" Nothing," said he, shaking her affectionately by
the hand, " could give me more pleasure than to see
you cheerful, once again, as you used to be. It will
enliven us all, and add some dozen of years to your
own life. And now, like a sensible woman, give over
your grief, and 'try- and be glad that your little daugh-
ter is an angel in heaven."

Lord Farnmere, and his dressing gowns, and every
thing pertaining to him, vanished instantly from her
memory, and the one idea which had been justled out,

IRISHWOMEN. 35

for a moment, from the place it occupied, again took
possession of its strong hold in her imagination. The
revulsion of feeling was so sudden, that it complete-
ly overpowered her, and she answered with more
bitterness than she had ever given way to before,
though often sorely tried by his attempts to comfort
her: —

" Why should I be glad for that, Mr. Duff? It is
no angel I want — it is my own child, just as she left
me. What do I know about angels, only this, that if
she is one, it is little she will think about her poor
mother ! — and if I were to meet her in heaven, and
that she would look down on me, arid would not run
and throw her arms about my neck, and be all as one
to me as ever, I would not stay one hour in it, if all
the world was offered to me as a bribe/'

" Oh ! Mrs. Costigan ! Them are fearful words for
a Christian's mouth to speak. It is no such easy
thing to get to heaven, that you should make light of
it/'

" It's useless to talk to me in that way, Mr. Duff.
It is not heaven I am thinking about, or want to
think about. How do 1 know if there is such a place
at all ? It is the one I lost that my heart is fixed in>
and I won't be happy without her, if all the priests,
and the Pope himself, were to preach till they were
tired,"

" I declare it's a terrible thing to listen to you,
Mrs. Costigan — a sensible woman, and a well-read
woman like you ! If you would only think of your-
self ! Why, sure, you are not worse off than many ;
and what can I say to comfort you, if you won't

36 IRISHMEN AND

be satisfied, when I tell you that your child is an
angel ?"

(f There is no comfort in it, Mr. Duff. It might
satisfy you, who never had one to lose — but to talk
to me ! — to tell me to be content, because she is flying
about with wings, in the sky, when I want to have
her here, pressing her to my heart ! You might as
well tell the beggar that is perishing with cold, to
bring heat to his bones by plunging in to the frozen
pool without there/'

She walked about the room, wringing her hands,
and ejaculating in a manner, approaching to frantic ;
while Mr. Duff stood arguing with himself whether
to rebuke her sharply for her impiety, or endeavour
to calm her by speaking gently. The latter course
was the most congenial to his disposition ; but after
puzzling for some time, he could only bring forward
one of his good sayings, which he had often tried
before, and as often failed of producing the desired
effect.

" We ought all be resigned to the will of God,
Mrs. Costigan, whatever that is."

" Well, I am resigned, because I can't help myself:
and, after all, He has been better to me than you
would be, though He has punished me ; for He left
what remained of her with me, so that I can tell the
very spot where she lies, and I can go and cry over
it when I choose; but you would bid me look for her,
I don't know where ; and even if I did find her, the
chance is that I would not know her, from all I can
learn from you."

c> I am sorry you have so little respect for your

IRISHWOMEN. 37

clergy, as to speak after such a manner/' said Mr.
Duff, quite dispirited, " I can only make bad worse
by staying any longer ; so I will go .away, and I
hope you will soon see your error, and be another
woman entirely."

After the priest's departure, she was left alone for
some time, her husband having gone to a distant farm,
and Ileen so engaged in attending three or four sick
calves, that she was scarcely a moment in the house
during the day. She had, therefore, riot only full
time to indulge her grief to the utmost, but some
also to spare for reflection on her conduct; which,
after the excitement caused by his injudicious treat-
ment had subsided, appeared to her in its true co-
lours, of unkind and unjustifiable, and she now
felt as angry with herself, as she had lately been
with him.

Mrs. Costigan was altogether a very peculiar per-
son— a compound of all that is estimable in fallen hu-
man nature, with a considerable alloy of every oppo-
site quality — good and evil so jumbled together, that
it was difficult to form an estimate of their compara-
tive proportions. She had no ruling passion — none
at least, that could boast paramount sovereignty ; for
they all ruled by turns, and ruled with a high hand,
without suffering any interregnum. It is impossible
to say, what she might have been with education,
for her mind was certainly of a superior order. More
than common good sense often appeared in her con-
versation, when the subject led to matters beyond
the every-day occurrence of her confined sphere, or
when she had an auditor who could enter into the
spirit of her observations. She had read every thing

38 IRISHMEN AND

in the shape of a book that came in her way, from
" the Seven Champions of Christendom/' to " Locke's
Essay on the Human Understanding ;" and could re-
peat, by heart, page after page, from " Young's
Night Thoughts ;" besides passages from <c Pope's
Homer," f( Hudibras," and " Shakespeare," to the
undisguised admiration of her husband, and the se-
cret annoyance of Father Duff, whose imagination
never took a flight beyond the most downright prose.
Her character for literary attainments was conse-
quently high in the neighbourhood, and perhaps riot
much lower in her own estimation. But though her
course of reading had, to a certain degree, improved
her taste, it had not added to her stock of useful
knowledge. On the contrary, it insensibly increased
a natural leaning to scepticism, without undermining
the strong holds of early superstition. Thus she
gave implicit credit to any tale, however ridiculous,
of supernatural appearances, particularly those nar-
rating the moon-light gambols, or mischievous pranks
of the " good people/'" and the prophetic lamentations
of Banshees; though she would candidly confess,
that she had never seen any thing worse than herself;
while, on subjects of high and holy import, she, at
times, expressed doubts, in the absence of sensible
evidence. We do not pretend to account for this and
many other incongruities in Mrs. Costigan's charac-
ter ; nor can we hope to describe her, so as to give a
very determinate idea of it to our readers, unless to
those among them, who are well acquainted with
that particular modification of humanity, denominated
a real Irishman, or Irishwoman. We shall therefore
content ourselves, by simply stating, that she was a

IRISHWOMEN. 39

genuine specimen of Irish human nature, which is,
we believe, pretty generally allowed to be made up of
a medley of contrarieties.

Her mind was tolerably composed, before Ileen
could spare time from her calves, to look in upon her ;
and when she did so, it was to announce the ap-
proach of another visitor, who was seen that moment
crossing the stubble field.

" Which I am right glad of/' continued the good-
natured girl, " for the sight of Miss Dora and her
big dog would rise any body's heart, they are both
so cheer ful and agreeable."

Perhaps no other person would have been cordial-
ly welcome, at this time, to Mrs. Costigan ; but
Dora Milward was one of those fortunate beings, who
seem to bring into the world with them a patent for
popularity — a talent or a gift, or an acquisition, or
whatever else it may be called, which there is no de-
scribing, and no accounting for. Many young per-
sons, either by being well puffed, or by boldly put-
ting forward pretensions of themselves, often cheat
the crowd into an opinion of their superiority ; but
Dora, with the exception of nurse Burrowes, had
no regular puffers, and, without any exception, no
pretensions ; yet the world, at least that part of it in
which she moved, acknowledged, as if by general
consent, her claim to superiority, and none more than
Mrs. Costigan, who was in the habit of declaring,
sometimes with very awful asseverations indeed, that
from the moment she was born, nobody could ever
see the shadow of a fault in her.

Her entrance had the usual effect of causing a con-

40 IRISHMEN AND

siderable stir in the household of Kiladarne. The
fragments of the cold goose were quickly replaced
by a large saucer of black currant jam, and a soup-
tureen filled with honey-comb, besides bread, butter,
apples, and various other eatables ; all of which were
heaped, one after the other, on Miss Milward's plate,
and no excuse permitted for not partaking of them
all. She managed to satisfy her hospitable enter-
tainer pretty well, till attacked with a full glass of
Cape Madeira, plentifully saturated with sugar, to
make it more palatable, when the resistance became
serious. Every refusal was met by the addition of
another lump of sugar, till half the wine had over-
flowed ; and her long walk, and the wetness of the
day, and the damp of the stubble-field, were again
and again brought forward, as arguments against her
abstemiousness. Mrs. Costigan was at length obliged
to resort to her last resource, of protesting that she
would be offended unless obliged this once.

" Now only this once, Miss Dora, dear ; I would'nt
ask you to do any thing would injure you. You
know that, and I am sure you want it, after your fa-
tigue coming that tedious way through the fields,
which is longer than any two miles of a good road."

" I am not in the least fatigued, Mrs. Costigan-r-
you know it is but half a mile. Besides, my boots
can resist any damp, and I would have great plea-
sure in obliging you, but, I assure you, my father
would be seriously displeased if I were to drink wine
of a morning."

' ' Oh ! that settles it at osce," said Mrs. Costigan,
laying down the glass, and adding rather crossly,

IRISHWOMEN. 41

"he would take it himself, though he hinders you;
and that is what I don't understand, if he is so fond
of you as he says."

Miss Milward did not think the present a good op-
portunity for defending her father, and immediately
entered upon a subject which was always pleasing to
Mrs. Costigan.

" I have a message from my mother, to say that
she is quite jealous of you. She has been confined,
partly to her bed, and entirely to her house, for up-
wards of three weeks, and every body has been to
see her but you."

<f She is not jealous of me, Miss Dora. She knows
well, that if it would do her any good, there is no-
thing I would not do for her. But what use would
my going answer, only to sink her spirits with my
foolishness ?"

She was verging fast towards a point which Dora
was anxious to avoid, and she answered cheerfully—

" You must come — she will take no excuse : and
then, it is a long time since you borrowed any books,
and we have got some lately, which, I am sure, will
interest you."

" If they are about religion, it is as well to tell you
at once, Miss Dora, that I could find no pleasure in
them. Religion does very well when one is happy,
with nothing to give them uneasiness ; but when a
weight of sorrow is thrown upon one, like as it was
upon me, 1 see no use in it."

(( Dear Mrs. Costigan ! surely you are not in ear-
nest ! I thought it was a truth universally acknow-
ledged, that religion, at all times a comfort and a

42 IRISHMEN AND

blessing, was peculiarly so under misfortune of any
kind/'

" So you may think, who don't know what misfor-
tune is, and long may you continue without that bit-
ter knowledge ! Why, Miss Dora, I was as religious
as any body, when affliction was far off; and I re-
member feeling quite happy long ago, when I con-
fessed what I had to confess, and that there was no
more trouble about it till the next time. But what
good was it to me, after all ? And would not T be a
fool to look to it for what I know it can't do ? Can
it hinder death from knocking at any door it pleases ?
Can it bring back life, when the breath flies out of
the body ?"

" I certainly cannot speak from my own experi-
ence," replied Dora, rather alarmed at the sarcastic
bitterness with which she spoke ; " but*' my mother,
who has met with many severe trials, tells me that
religion was a very great comfort at such times, and
I must believe her/'

" And so you ought, for you will never hear any
thing but truth out of her mouth. But it is out of
the question to talk of your mother and me in one
breath— she, who was always better than any body
else, and that could not be any thing but comfortable,
under any cross, reflecting on her own goodness.
Miss Dora, I have lived forty years in the world, and
you, to my knowledge, have counted only nineteen,
so it is but natural that I should have more experi-
ence than you ; and remember I say to you, without
fear of contradiction, that there never was her equal
living, nor ever will be/'

IRISHWOMEN. 43

" She has not so high an opinion of herself," said
Dora ; " and indeed," aiming at an incredulous smile,
' ' it is too exaggerated to be true of any individual."

" I have watched her these thirty years," conti-
nued Mrs. Costigan, " and I could only see one thing
better than another in her. She has no more pride
than an infant at the breast, though every body knows
the family she is come of; and though her health is
so poor, she never thinks of herself, but has a watch-
ful eye for the distresses of others : and has not she
the gentlest voice, and the mildest look ? and would
she offend the poorest worm that crawls on the earth ?
and didn't she rejoice with me in my good luck, as if
the blessing was all her own ? and didn't the tears
roll down her cheeks when my sun went down under
a cloud, never to rise again ? and, after that, will any
body tell me that she is to be put on a par with
others ?"

Dora's eyes sparkled with delight.

" It is all very true, Mrs. Costigan. I really do
believe that there is nobody like my mother. But, I
assure you, it is religion which has made the great
difference between her and many amiable people, for
there is nothing essentially good in man or woman.
The Bible says so, and we must believe it, though
no man should add his testimony to that truth. But,
as you think my mother worthy of credit, I can
tell you that she confesses it to be true, from the ex-
perience she has of her own sinfulness."

" I know that is the way Swaddlers talk, but your
mother has too much sense to think it, though she
may give in to it, now and then, not to contradict
them. Religion never could make her what she is3 if

44 IRISHMEN AND

her own goodness was not there to back it. Between
ourselves, Miss Dora, I never thought much of reli-
gious people, looking at them only in that way.
Leave out the talk, and what bit better are they than
others ? Sure, all the priests in the world are religi-
ous, and what are the most of them ? and Alice
O'Neil, the Carmelite, is religious, and she can rear
up that natural, her grandson, to rob, and plunder ;
and John Bradley, the class-leader, has religion on
his tongue, every word he speaks, and he leads his
poor old mother-in-law the life of a dog ; and Toby
Weir, who dipped himself and his family, out of re~
ligion, never stops going to law with all his neigh-
bours, for nothing — and your own father too, who has
such a name"

" My father ! ! Mrs. Costigan ! It would be very
difficult, I should think, to find any real inconsistency
in my father."

cf Well, after all, I have not much against him.
But, Miss Dora, dear, he can fly into a passion at
times ; and sure religion ought to keep a man from
that."

<f You quite mistake my father — he never flies into
a passion — he may, on some occasions, think it right
to speak very decidedly, but that is quite different
from the vulgar and unchristian habit of flying into
a passion."

'• I don't doubt it, dear ; and though I said that to
yourself, in my haste, I would not stand by and hear
another find fault with him. No matter — if he was
twice as good as he is, he never could come up to
your mother ; for I will stand to it still, that if ever

IRISHWOMEN. 45

any body deserved to go to heaven> it is Mrs. Mil-
ward, and she will go to it."

"And so will my father, too," said Dora, rising,
" though there is no doubt in either case. But he is
just as good, and just as amiable, and you never saw
so good a man in all your life, Mrs. Costigan, and I
am sure you think so. I have another message from
my mother, or rather a present," taking a little book
from her reticule. (f She begs you to accept this as a
keepsake, and she hopes you will read it, and tell her
how you like it : it is a New Testament ; and she
says that if Mr. Duff objects to it, she will get one of
the Douay version, to which there can be no objec-
tion."

" My mind is my own, Miss Dora, and no man
shall put fetters on it. Give her my compliments, and
my thanks ; and tell her I will read every word of it
for her sake, if it was the worst book in print. But it
won't do what she expects. She thinks it will com-
fort me, when the truth is, Miss Dora, I would rather
not be comforted; I would rather keep my sorrow
than part with it, for what have I else to fix my mind
on?"

" She said nothing to me about comfort. She sim-
ply requests you to read it, and tell her your opinion
of it. Good bye ; and remember, my mother expects
a visit from you soon. Come, Figaro. Don't you
delight in my dog, Mrs. Costigan? I should feel
quite safe in the wildest part of the country, with him
for a guard."

" You would be safe any where," said Mrs. Costi-
gan to herself, as she watched her bounding over the

46 IRISHMEN AND

stile into the adjoining field. " There is not the heart
in all Ireland would contrive harm against you, if
you travelled from one end of it to the other, by
yourself."

' : . .:

IRISHWOMEN. 47

CHAPTER IV.

WE have often heard it remarked by travellers on
the Continent, that there is a very striking difference
to be perceived between the Protestant and Roman
Catholic countries, as to the external appearance of
the people and their habitations ; and though the
charge of bigotry and intolerance may be most sen-
timentally brought against us, we must contend, that
a like difference, though in a less degree, can be ob-
served between the professors of the two religions in
Ireland. It may be imperceptible to the mere Eng-
lish eye, which is too much shocked by the general
appearance of poverty and wretchedness, and dirt and
slovenliness, to distinguish between the less and the
more of these all-pervading abominations. But we
put it to the candour of any impartial Irishman, whose
powers of comparison have not been nullified by Eng-
lish recollections, and who has had opportunities of
studying the character and habits of our peasantry, if
the fact has not been repeatedly forced upon his con-
viction. We acknowledge there are exceptions on
both sides. There are pig-sties inhabited by Protes-
tants, and there are decent cottages in the possession
of Roman Catholics ; but they are, one and the other,
exceptions.

At no time is the difference in personal appearance
more apparent than on a Sunday morning, when the
roads are filled with peasants going to their different

48 IRISHMEN AND

places of worship, all in their holiday garb, and all
washed, and scrubbed, -and combed, and as clean as
their ideas of cleanliness go. Those on their way to
the chapel, have in general the advantage of a more
picturesque costume among the females. The gay-
est colours are in requisition, from the infirm grand-
mother, to the sprightly girl of eighteen ; and, with
the exception of bonnets, those in tolerable circum-
stances are equipped with all the covering required
for decency and comfort. But a great majority of the
young women are without shoes and stockings, with
a gown, or petticoat, or apron, of some stay-at-home
friend, thrown over their shoulders, which supplies
the place of a shawl or handkerchief. The men are
clothed in home manufacture — the knees of their
breeches unbuttoned, and, whether the weather be
hot or cold, the large trustee, a loose, long, frieze
great coat, is indispensable to the full dress of a main
advanced in years.

The Protestants, whatever their taste may be as to
dress, have altogether a more respectable appearance.
An air of comparative decency pervades the whole.
Every button is required to do its legitimate duty ;
every leg and foot have their appropriate covering ;
and, except in the case of a very few old women, no
head is unbonnetted. In fact, those who are unpro-
vided with the necessary habiliments, stay at home,
and firmly resist the exhortations of their minister to
attend public worship, until, as they express it, they
are in a way of going. All, however, Protestant and
Roman Catholics, have the same air of cheerfulness
arid hilarity ; and kind greetings, and mutual inqui-
ries after each other's welfare, pass between neigh-

IRISHWOMEN. 4^

bours, unless where some feud exists, or in the case
of an unfortunate convert, who, no matter what his
character or conduct may be, is an object of scorn,
and hatred, and persecution.

On the Sunday immediately following the com-
mencement of this story, a more than usual number
of persons passed the gate of Rathedmond, on their
way to the church and chapel. The concourse to the
latter place was easily accounted for, as some religi-
ous procession was expected to take place after mass ;
and Mr. Mil ward felt no small degree of self-compla-
cency, as he pointed out to his daughter, during their
walk to church, two or three of his flock, who were
notorious defaulters, except at Christmas or Easter,
and whose appearance, on the present occasion, he
believed to be the effect of his last lecture to the of-
fenders.

" I spoke very strongly, indeed, the other day, to
Katty Richardson/' said he ; •' and though I must
confess she was rather surly at the time, yet you sec,
Dora, that my lecture was not thrown away."

We know not whether the rector ever received the
information, which we had from a neighbour of un-
doubted veracity, who had it from Katty's own lips,
that nothing but curiosity to see the English lord,
who was expected to visit Rathedmond church that
day, would have brought her out, if all the par-
sons in the country were talking for a year together.

However, much to the disappointment of Mrs,
Richardson, and of others, who had the discretion to
keep their minds to themselves, Lord Farnmere did
not make his appearance at church ; and when the
congregation separated, the mere gossiping part of

D

50 IRISHMEN AND

it had nothing new to talk about, but a few surmises
as to the cause of his absence.

After service, Miss Milward hastened to the Sun-
day School, where she was on hard duty, having to
teach her mother's class in addition to her own, besides
the troublesome task of keeping order —no easy mat-
ter at all times, as many of the scholars took the li-
berty of being now and then impertinent to those
teachers who were not in the rank of ladies and gen-
tlemen ; and the teachers, not unfrequently, lost even
the species of respect, which was legitimately their
due, by entering into angry arguments, and vindica-
ting their own dignity, in a manner not always the
most dignified.

We must be allowed here to remark, though it may
break in upon the thread of our narrative, that Sun-
day Schools, at least on any thing of a large scale,
are difficult to manage, or indeed to establish at all,
on a permanent footing, unless the requisite number
of teachers can be supplied out of the immediate fa-
mily of the person promoting them. On the first
proposal of such an undertaking, particularly if re-
commended by an individual of consequence in the
neighbourhood, it meets with the unqualified appro-
bation of old and young. Names are put down, and
rules drawn up, and promises of punctuality as cheer-
fully given, and the classes divided, and sub-divided,
to accommodate the superfluity of ready made educa-
tors, who offer their unpretending services ; arid for
three or four Sundays all goes on prosperously. But
the number of teachers gradually diminishes. Some
drop off without assigning any cause, except that they
cannot, or will not attend ; while others have more

IRISHWOMEN.

51

substantial reasons, either declared or suspected, for
their secession. Thus, the curate marries, and the
educational zeal of one or two families is suddenly
damped. The rector's lady has not bowed sufficient-
ly gracious to a fair aspirant after gentility, who
will not again put herself in the way of being looked
down upon ; and the rector himself gives unconscious
offence to another, by buying his whip-cord from the
fellow next door, who cannot sign his name. The
very significant manipulations practised by the ma-
jority of the pupils put to flight another ; and, in all
probability, the most subdued looking, and humility-
professing of all, takes huff at discovering that his
inferior in rank has been complimented with a class
of readers, while he has been fobbed off with a set of
spellers : and thus the secession goes on, till the care
of the whole establishment is thrown upon the very
few, who are to be found in any place, willing to
sacrifice their tastes or antipathies, or to overlook ei-
ther real or ideal slights, or to bear with a few an-
noyances, when a positive duty cannot be fulfilled
without some sacrifice.

Mrs. Milward had experienced all those difficulties,
over and over again, with her School ; for, unluckily,
the parishioners of Rathedmond had their periodical
fits of goodness ; and, at such seasons, would volun-
teer their services, and undertake with great spirit
what they had repeatedly failed in. When Lady
Thorndale interested herself in such matters, the
general feeling was all on the right side ; but when
her ladyship was occupied with other pursuits, which
was not seldom the case, the excitation subsided into
the usual apathy. At the time of which we are

D2

52 IRISHMEN AND

speaking, Sunday Schools were not the fashion with
the less-than- three-quarters-gen try of Rathedmond ;
and though the attendance of children was pretty
numerous, the teachers were reduced to four, viz. —
Miss Milward; an old pensioner, by name Johnny
Monroe ; and a young lad and his sister, who had hi-
therto been unwearied in their duty, though, at times
sadly tired by some of their rude pupils, who, when
inclined to be idle, would tell them that they only
permitted them to teach them, out of compliment to
the mistress and Miss Dora.

But on this day every thing appeared to be going
on smoothly, and for a long time the most perfect
harmony and good conduct pervaded the whole es-
tablishment, till, towards the conclusion, symptoms
of misrule began to show themselves among the boys
in Monroe's class, which he was exerting all his influ-
ence to restrain. Miss Milward would not hear or
see for some time, hoping that the ferment might
subside without her interference ; but it went on gra-
dually increasing, till one or two elbows were hard at
work in their neighbours' sides, and angry words were
muttered, and angry looks exchanged between the
young combatants. She could no longer pretend ig-
norance of this unseemly conduct.

" Mr. Monroe, I am afraid that some of your boys
are very inattentive. Will you have the goodness to
keep them quiet, for they are disturbing the whole
School/'

Before Monroe could reply, two or three of the
youngsters called out in unison, " Miss Dora, Miss,
it's Lanty M 'Grail, who won't let us alone ; and he's
putting up Mark Dawson, and Willy Swayne, to be

IRISHWOMEN. 53

thumping1 and pegging us, and we doing nothing,
Miss/'

ee Lanty, you have no business at that form/' said
Dora, turning to the culprit " Go to your own
seat, and employ yourself properly, with your les-
sons, which I shall call you up to repeat in a few
minutes."

This was addressed to a red-haired, long-armed,
raw-boned, yet lumpish-made boy, apparently from
twelve to fourteen years of age, with a face, where
all the features seemed to take the usual situations,
more by chance than design ; and such a total want
of expression in his light grey eyes, or wide-gaping
mouth, that his countenance presented as few marks
of intelligence, as that of a great calf quietly chew-
ing the cud.

Totally unmoved, either by the complaint or re-
proof, he kept his place, balancing himself upon
one leg, and thumbing over the dirty remains of
a spelling book, as he cast a side glance alter-
nately at the lady and the complainants on the
form,

Dora, who knew from experience the self-willed
nature of her pupil, did not wait till her orders were
obeyed, but turned away, and again busied herself
with her class. The cessation of hostilities between
the contending parties was, however, of very short
continuance. In a few minutes, another complaint
was loudly vociferated.

' ' Miss Dora, will you speak to Lanty, Miss, if you
please. There's no end to him, so there isn't. He
never stops battering and pushing me, and is saying1
plenty of bad words under his breath."

54 IRISHMEN AND

" Lanty," said the young- lady, again advancing,
(f I shall be very angry, indeed, if you do not sit
down at once in your own place/'

" Can't Tommy Taggs, then, give me my marvels,
he tuck from me?" growled Lanty, without stirring
an inch from the place where he was standing.

" Ah ! never mind him, Miss/' cried Tommy. ff I
had no hand in them at all. It was last Tuesday he
lost them out of his pocket on the road, and Willy
Swayne told him, out of a joke, that I found them.
So, when a thing comes into his head, there is no get-
ting it out, for he hasn't sense to see the differ."

A general titter followed this observation; and
Lanty, who the moment before, seemed inclined to
retire to his own seat, now moved still nearer the
forbidden ground.

" I want my marvels," he repeated, <f and I won't
stir a step till I get them."

Dora's patience unluckily failed, and she addressed
him in the pettish tone of reproach and altercation,
which invariably lessens authority, and approximates
the teacher to a level with the unruly pupil.

ee I am very glad that your marbles are lost, you
provoking boy ; and if you do not at once go to your
place, I shall"

She was at a loss to finish the sentence, not being
prepared to say what she should, could, or ought to
do ; and while hesitating for a proper ending to her
speech, the boys, encouraged by her warmth, began,
some to laugh, and others to order him, in a very dic-
tatorial way.

The very opposite effect to that which it was in-
tended to produce, was the consequence of this com-

IRISHWOMEN. 55

bined attack ; for down squatted Lanty, immediately
between two of his most vociferous accusers, and
wriggled, and squeezed, and elbowed, till he had more
than room for himself on the form, totally regardless
of the expostulations of Monroe, who was pushed
from his seat by the pressure of the boys beside
him.

Miss Milward saw that she had overstepped her
bounds. She knew that nothing but main force would
make him quit his post, a measure to which she felt
no inclination to resort ; and while he remained in his
present situation, no attention could be expected from
the boys. To make a dignified retreat, if possible,
was therefore her only resource.

<f Mr. Monroe/' said she, " I am very sorry that
you have been treated so disrespectfully by one of
my pupils ; but we shall provide against a recurrence
of such conduct in future. Perhaps it will be advis-
able to dismiss your class for this day, as I fear
there is a strong inclination in all parties to be quar-
relsome."

Monroe followed her advice, and when the boys had
been dismissed, she again spoke to Lanty, who sat
rocking himself on the form, and indenting it with his
thumb-nail.

" You may go away when you please, as I shall
not teach you to-day. I hope your conduct may be
very different next Sunday, that I shall not be obliged
again to delay giving you a very nice leather cap —
much nicer than Harry Dunn's, which I bought for
you, and intended giving to you this day, after school."

" And what's to hinder you giving it to me now,
Miss Dora?"

56 IRISHMEN AND

" Your very disrespectful conduct to Mr. Monroe,
and to myself, for this last half-hour. You must be-
have very differently indeed, next Sunday, or I will
not give it to you even then."

" Tell them to give me my marvels, Miss Dora,
and that's all I want," reiterated her pupil, in that
dogged voice, which is the most hopeless of all
voices.

ef Lanty, dear ! " said Monroe, in a whisper, " can't
you go away, and not be after displeasing your best
friend, for nothing but your own peevishness ?"

Lanty took no notice of this kind expostulation,
further than by a shove with his elbow ; and still
scratched the seat, at times looking sideways at Miss
Milward, who had resumed the instruction of her
class. After a short interval of quiet he again called
out —

" Will you give me the cap you promised me, Miss
Dora?"

" Certainly not. Next Sunday you shall have it, if
you deserve it, which I am afraid you are not intend-
ing to do, by your continued obstinacy."

" Will you tell them to give me my marvels, then,
if you won't give me my cap ?" persisted Lanty,
apparently determined not to give up. But Dora,
wisely declining any further altercation, and pretend-
ing to be too busy either to see or hear him, after a
few efforts of making a noise, by knocking the seats
against each other, and growling in an under voice,
he gradually drew nearer and nearer to the door ;
and when he thought nobody was looking at him, he
made a sudden bolt and disappeared.

" I am afraid, Miss Dora," said Munroe, when the

IRISHWOMEN. 57

School had broken up, " that you will make no hand
of that boy. It is only giving yourself trouble, to no
end, to try and do any thing for him. As he grows
older he is only the more stubborn, and the little sense
he had is fast turning into wickedness."

ff Oh ! Mr. Munroe," cried Dora, earnestly, ' ' do
not despair of poor Lanty. You have hitherto en-
couraged me to persist in teaching him, when every
body else laughs at me; and even my mother some-
times shakes her head incredulously at my hopes
about him. Consider how very, very little sense he
has ; and then consider that it is our duty to bear
with him if he runs riot at times. Have I not often
heard you say, that we should act towards our fellow
creatures as God does towards us, who bears hourly
with our wilfulness ? And why should poor Lanlj
be excepted from our forbearance, when his want of
understanding calls upon us to exercise it more thaih
we are naturally inclined ?"

" You have put it on the right footing, Miss Dora,
and it was what I would agree to myself, if I wasn't
overtaken by a bit of pride. I was vexed that he
did not give heed to me checking him ; and I was
sore about the unmannerly way I was jostled off the
seat, and when my pride rose high, I thought there
was no hope for him, because I hadn't all the respect
I thought my due. Go on, and God's blessing will
be over you, one way or other, in what you are doing
for him. But don't think I am encouraging a bad
spirit, when I tell you that I have my doubts of his
ever being a scholar. I believe, Miss, he is terrible
bad at the book ?"

"Not at all, I assure you. He improves amazing-

D 3

58 IRISHMEN AND

ly. You know that he has not been coming to School
much upwards of two years, and yet he can spell
words of three letters remarkably well, indeed as
well as I can myself. You must listen to him next
Sunday repeating his lesson, and you will be surprised
and delighted*"

(f You have done wonders, Miss Dora," cried Mon-
roe in the simplicity of his heart. " There's few, I
well judge, could do so much; and as that seems to
be your gift, why shouldn't you use it? And, indeed,
after what you tell me, I make no doubt but you'll
have him a fine scholar yet. But there is one thing,
Miss Dora, above all that, and I would be glad to
hear it from your own lips, if you think the innocent
has any thoughts for his poor soul — if he has sense
and feeling ever to raise his mind to think of God.
Ah ! Miss, without that, you know well, it's little
matter what knowledge he gets. He could meet the
Lord in glory, without knowing a letter in a book ;
and he might read like Aristotle, and come short of
the kingdom of God after all."

" We must hope the best on that point too, Mr*
Monroe. It is almost impossible to form an opinion
as yet, of how much, or how little, he is capable of
comprehending. I have seen, at times, something in
his countenance, like an. effort to think, when I have
been speaking to him of any passage in the Scrip-
tures, which alludes to the love of God, in sending
his Son into the world to die for sinners,; and I really
do think, that / once saw him look up with an ex-
pression of gratitude. But do not mention this to
my aunt Falconer ; and do not tell her that I can
perceive a gradual improvement in him, as to some-

f « V £ «

IRISHWOMEN. 59

times telling truth. You may trust me, Mr. Monroe.,
when I assure you, that lies do not appear to come
half so naturally to him, as formerly; and I know
he respects truth in others. It may be as well," she
continued, as they were leaving the house, " if we
do not speak of his rude behaviour to any body, par-
ticularly to my aunt, who — she might — that is — oh!
you know my aunt Falconer, Mr. Monroe."

" She is a christianable woman, I think," he answer-
ed, after a short pause ; "but she has her own ways,
like Lanty. Tut — what am I saying? The dear
gentlewoman isn't a bit like Lanty; only she has her
own ways, like — like — like us all. I believe that is
the safest thing to say. Well, Miss Dora, we will
take different roads now. His blessing be over you
at home or abroad : if it's His will that you should
be the means of bringing knowledge to the heart of
that poor, half-witted creature, why it is His own do-
ing, arid sure nothing is impossible with Him. I be-
lieve," he added, talking to himself, after he parted
from the young lady, " that He fits some for any part
of his work, no matter how seemingly out of their
way it is ; and you are one of them, it is likely, can
do any thing you put your hands to. Well, I trust
he will keep you humble, and not let people be flat-
tering you to your face, and telling you it would be
hard to find the fellaw of you, if one was to travel
further than I can say."

IRISHMEN AND

••i 3;:

CHAPTER V.

&J*q* to£i r

TUESDAY evening came, and the dance at Briny
Killion's was merrily kept up to a late hour. Mur-
tagh Cummusky, who to his other accomplishments
added that of a musician, relieved the blind fiddler
occasionally, so that there was no pause between the
dances, much to the satisfaction of Ileen Garvey and
one or two other light-footed damsels, who were no-
torious for tiring out three or four partners before
they sat down. The gaiety pervading the whole
party was so natural and so incessant, that no one,
judging from appearances, could suppose that the nu-
merous assemblage was collected for any other pur-
pose than that of thoughtless merriment. Even
Alice O'Neil's cross countenance relaxed into some-
thing not very unlike good humour ; and Wat Dela-
hunt, who was rather of a grave temperament, replied
to the tinker's jokes with a spirit which drew repeated
bursts of laughter from the auditors. Yet there
were not, perhaps, six individuals in the house who
were not perfectly aware that some deed of violence
was to be determined that evening ; and the princi-
pal actors were often alluded to in a mysterious way,
as the boys who had warm work on their hands.

Ileen was not totally free from uneasiness, though
her laugh was the loudest, and her repartees dealt
out unsparingly on all sides. Like others not fully
initiated, she guessed that Connel St. Leger was en-

IRISHWOMEN. 61

gaged in one of those outrages, unhappily but too
common in the country ; but what the nature of the
next exploit was to be, she was yet in ignorance,
though she attacked him several times in the course
of the evening, and threatened various marks of her
displeasure, if he was so dark with her, who would
tell him any thing. Connel easily found means to
divert her attention (at all times easily diverted) to
some passing occurrence ; till being alarmed by Alice
O'Neil, who, in the gaiety of her heart, gave the
toast of fc dark nights and bloody blankets/' at the
same time winking significantly at him, she kept so
close to the point, that he was obliged to pretend an-
ger, and was trying to look sulky, when he w?s
agreeably relieved by the entrance of Mulvaney, who
accounted to Mrs. Killion for his appearance, by tell-
ing her of the accident which happened to his stir-
rup-leather, while riding from his stepson's, where he
lip.d dined.

" It was well I wasn't hurt," he continued, " for
I was trotting fast when it gave way ; and I will be
for ever obliged to you for the loan of a candle to
look for my stirrup, which I left after me, a perch or
two from the house. Ah ! boys, will some of you
come along with me, and help me to find it."

This, though not apparently addressed to any one
in particular, seemed perfectly understood by all pre-
sent to mean a select few, for though there was much
bustle, and many offers of assistance, yet none fol-
lowed him from the door but St. Leger and his three
associates in crime. The stirrup was quickly found,
and they all adjourned to the stable to repair the
fracture of the leather.

62 IRISHMEN AND

* " Buckle it on at once, Val," said Mulvaney, clos-
ing the door. " I slipped it out myself, to have an
excuse for dropping in upon you, for one ought to be
cautious these days of raising suspicions ; and it
wouldn't be becoming in a man of my years and
standing, to be roistering with a parcel of youngsters
in a place like Briny's. Now, to business, boys.
Are you all ready to do Jack Oglandby's job to-mor-
row night?"

" All entirely," was the unanimous reply.

ec And are you all staunch and true ?" looking
sternly at Delahunt.

<c If you mean me, Mr. Mulvaney," replied the
young man, returning his look with interest, et you
may save your breath axing questions. I gave you
my word before, and if that don't please you, you'll
get nothing more from me." jfe 1<

fc We are all true blue, or true black, or true any
thing you please," said St. Leger; "and that's
enough of it. But you haven't told us when we are
to expect our bird ?"

' ' He is to leave Charlesborough at ten o'clock, and
in half-an-hour he will be in reach of our bullets.
You had better be in the grove an hour before the
time, for fear of mistakes. I have to give no more
advice, but my blessing, and remember to keep your
own secret — that's all."

" Never fear — we'll not tell of ourselves," answer-
ed Val. Tigue. " I hope others will be as cautious ;
for there isn't a dog in the parish but could tell, if he
liked it."

" And who will tell ? or who dar tell ? or who ever

IRISHWOMEN. 63

did tell of any of our doings ? Answer me that,
Val,"

" Oh ! I am not going to cry treason for nothing —
never fear. But I won't be faced down in it, that
there was no use to let them of the Carragh know all
about it. They are poor, and if a big reward was
offered, who knows how they might be tempted to
hang us all?"

" Val. I'm ashamed of you. I'll go bail for the
Carragh. You see boys, I know what I am about,
or do you think I would put my own life in danger,
as well as yours ? They will offer a large reward —
that's only natural ; but they would be sorry to have
it to pay. Lord Colverston will call a meeting, and
he and his dependants will make speeches, and draw
up resolutions, and write to the castle for the insur-
rection act. Well now, all that is in our favour ; for
what will the Braymores and that faction be doing ?
Won't they have another meeting, and won't they say
the country is as quiet as a lamb, and that old
Oglandby is one in a hundred, and might be shot any
where, he is such a tyrant ; and the matter will drop
quietly, for all sides is afraid of us, and they see
they can't stop us."

" We'll have a sore life with the women, any how,"
said Tigue, " if damage is done to Miss Dora. There
never was one in the country has such a name with
rich and poor, and I'm not afraid or ashamed to
speak it out before yees all, that if it wasn't for my
oath and the honour of God, I'd burn off my hand
before I'd lift it again a hair of her head."

" So would we all," said Mulvaney, " for she is a
fine sprightly creature, and does mighty little harm,

64 IRISHMEN AND

considering the wish she has to lead the children
astray ; but if she was your own sister, you can't go
off now. Go back to the house cheerful, and take
your diversion. To-morrow night you will have
sport of another kind ; — I wish the time was come,
for I am longing that it was done, and well done.*'

Now, though it is in our power to indulge any of
our readers, who may feel the same longing with Mr.
Terence Mulvaney, by annihilating the intermediate
space between the conspiracy at Briny Killion's, and
half-past ten on the following night, yet it would
break in so much upon our plan, that we must con-
duct them, however unwilling, through the morning,
noon, and evening of the eventful Wednesday, leav-
ing the catastrophe to be brought about in the regu-
lar course of things. Besides, we should lose the op-
portunity of introducing a new character under the
most favourable circumstances, and such as are not
likely to occur again, during the very limited period,
through which this story will extend. This is Mrs.
Burrowes, the person of most consequence, in her own
opinion, and that of many others, in the house of
Rathedmond. She had nursed Mrs. Mil ward, and
had gone home with her, on her marriage, as a kind
of nondescript, between lady's maid or any other de-
nomination of upper servant, according as her ser-
vices were required. For the first few years she pre-
sided over the nursery, and participated keenly in the
grief of the parents, as each little one followed its
brother and sister to the grave, till every olive branch
had disappeared from round their table, except one
girl, who consequently became, what every one child
always is, a wonder, and a beauty, and very nearly

IR1SHW031EN. 65

an idol. As Dora grew up, and the nursery establish-
ment was done away, Mrs. Burrowes, though always
addressed as " nurse," by the heads of the family, was
regularly installed as house-keeper, and, in virtue of
that office, ruled with an authority, which was exert-
ed not only over the subordinate members of the
household, but sometimes extended even to her mas-
ter and mistress. Such little occasional stretches of
power were, however, submitted to, or overlooked,
except where they interfered with the management of
the young lady, whose breeding did not altogether
accord with her notions of perfect gentiKty. Genti-
lity was her failing. She valued every man or wo-
man according to their family descent. To be of an
ancient family, was a sufficient passport to her good
opinion at once. To be an upstart, was a fault for
which there could scarcely be found a redeeming vir-
tue. The Oglandbys she considered as the first fa-
mily in the known world, and every, the most distant
connection of that favoured race, she regarded with
peculiar veneration. When Miss Oglandby would
marry Mr. Milward, who, there was no denying it,
could hardly count a grandfather, and that grandfa-
ther not worth counting, she made the best of it ;
and, for the first time in her life, was heard to ac-
knowledge that some were born gentlemen, no matter
who their forefathers were ; and that, after all, a good
man was a good man, and that maybe there was more
luck and grace before a lady of family, in joining her-
self to one of that sort, than if she married the first
lord in the land. Then Mr. Milward was a very
handsome young man, and a sensible man, and a man
of independent spirit, and, in many respects, more

DO IRISHMEN AND

gentleman-like in conduct than some of the high-born
Oglandbys ; and as her mistress was, perhaps, the
happiest in the married state of all her family, Mrs.
Burrowes both loved and respected him.

Still there were a few little peculiarities in the mode
of living at Rathedmond, which, in her heart, she be-
lieved had their origin in her master's low extraction.
We say, in her heart, for she was vehement in mak-
ing excuses of an opposite nature, when these pecu-
liarities were subject of conversation in the servants'-
hall. At the time of Mr. Milward's marriage with
Miss Oglandby, though the match was considered,
by more than Mrs. Burrowes, to be a very so-so one
for the lady, yet, in one respect, all agreed that they
were very well suited to each other — he, being the
pattern of a respectable clergyman ; and she, a de-
vout and honourable woman. But shortly after their
marriage, a great change took place in their religious
sentiments ; so much so, that every body's curiosity
was excited to know what they said, and did, and
thought ; and stranger things were believed of their
saying, and doing, and thinking, than common credu-
lity could excuse, unless we bear in mind, that in
those days the profession of any thing like serious reli-
gion was a new thing in Ireland ; and though it very
nearly turned that part of the world upside-down, it
differed nothing from what causes so little sensation
now, but is quietly dismissed under the name of Me-
thodism, or Calvinism, or the New Light, or any other
guch term, which means any thing, or nothing, in the
minds of half the people who use them. A change of
opinions naturally produced a change of conduct — not
that there was any very outrageous innovation upon

IRISHWOMEN. 67

the common forms and habits of civilized society.
There certainly was a less expenditure in the article
of dress, and the other mere luxuries of life ; but
still they were very respectably clothed, and made
use of chairs, and tables, and sofas, and knives, and
forks, and spoons, pretty much as the generality of
people do. There was, however, a decided change of
system, which Mrs. Burrowes did not understand,
and could not approve of, though, to do her justice,
she always endeavoured to like what pleased her
mistress ; and, as her own province was not invaded,
she quietly submitted to the fancies, which she hoped
would soon take flight. But they did not take flight;
on the contrary, they seemed, year after year, to es-
tablish themselves more firmly ; and it was only when
they were brought to bear upon the education of the
hopes of the family, that their annoyance was most
sensibly felt.

Every real young lady, she averred, ought to wear
monitors and steel collars, and be taught to dance,
and be taken to the Castle when they were seventeen,
or eighteen at the most, and afterwards go to balls,
without stopping till they were married. Whereas,
Miss Dora was left to nature, so that it was a mira-
cle to look at her beautiful figure, that never was
tightened or put into shape. And she was never
taught to dance, and her ears were never bored, be-
cause, like a foolish child, she did not choose to be
put to pain ; and she never saw twenty real gentle-
men and ladies together, full dressed, in all her life :
and how was she ever to be married? These consi-
derations pressed heavily upon her spirits ; but the
dawn of a new day seemed about to appear above

68 IRISHMEN AND

the horizon of Dora's hitherto clouded life, when
Lady Thorndale and Mr. Oglandby succeeded in gain-
ing her mother's consent to her dining at Charlesbo-
rough, on the grandest of their grand days ; where
she would meet people with blood in their veins ; and
where there might be a ball ; and where she might
be forced to stand up to make out a set ; and where
there was a ^oung English lord, who, — there was no
saying what might happen, — might make her an Eng-
lish lady. She had read in printed books of curates'
daughters making fine matches, as if by accident, and
what was to hinder a rector's daughter of the same
luck ? Those were the circumstances to which we
alluded, as favourable to Mrs. Burrowes's first intro-
duction to our readers ; for her temper was unusually
placid, and she felt in good humour with all the hu-
man race, even \\ith Kitty Moore, the slammekin
housemaid, to whom she chatted confidentially while
finishing her breakfast.

" The Oglandbys, Kitty, were always allied to nc -
bility, in every generation. The mistress's mother,
Lady Dorothea Oglandby, was daughter to the Earl
of Portmarnock, and her eldest brother was married
to Lord Cloridalkin's sister. The mistress herself
might have been the Honourable Mrs. Falconer, if
she liked ; and when he could not get the one sister,
he took the other. After all, she did as well — for he
was not very young, nor very rich, and died soon af-
ter his marriage. The very first Lady Thorndale was
Oglandby. That's the way they are related to the fa-
mily. Before that they had not much to brag of—
farmers and graziers — that sort entirely. Now they
have a right to look up. And so, as I was saying,

IRISHWOMEN. 09

Kitty, I am glad that Miss Dora is going to take her
place among her equals, after being kept from them
too long. Religion is a good thing — who says the
contrary ? But if it sinks a family, and keeps one for
ever at home, without knowing what is going on in
the world — I say nothing, only give me the good old
times, when there was one religion for the quality, and
another for them it was no matter about. I must go
now, and settle all her things properly, for she is so
heedless, that it might be a dab of a muslin she would
put on, instead of the beautiful new gown she never
wore yet, if I'm not at the beginning and end of
every thing."

Mrs. Burro wes found ample employment from that
moment, in rummaging drawers, burnishing neck-
laces and bracelets, and airing, and spreading out
sundry articles of dress, till the clock struck three,
when she descended to the drawing-room, where
Dora and her mother were sitting, to summon her to
dress.

" Dress at this hour, nurse ! Do you know that
Mr. (Mandby will not call for me till half-past five,
and what should I do, sitting up in state for such a
length of time ?"

"And what great time have you to spare, Miss f
Do you think when you are going to dine with peo-
ple of breeding, that your hair can be wisped up as
it is every day, or that a pin here and there will do ?
I will have trouble enough fixing you from top to
tee, which can't be done in a minute : and then won't
you have to show yourself to your aunt, and to walk
slow through the hall, that the people may have a
glimpse of you?"

70 IRISHMEN AND

<( Time enough for all that, nurse. I will not dress
till a quarter before five, when you shall have a full
half-hour to do what you please with me ; and the
remainder of the time will be quite sufficient to ex-
hibit myself to all the house, over and over again/'

" Then you may get Kitty, with her clumsy hands,
to dress you, for any trouble I will give myself about
3rou. I dressed them of your family that had a title
before their name, and they never counted out the*
minutes to me, because they knew what was becom-
ing in ladies. Ma'am," turning to her mistress, te I
wonder you don't check her, and give her some no-
tions, if it was only for the sake of the people she is
come of."

" You had better do as nurse wishes," said Mrs.
Mil ward. fc She has had a good deal of trouble all
the morning ; and if you wait till five o'clock, it will
interfere with her dinner."

Dora, though convinced against her will, followed
her mother's advice at once, and determined to un-
dergo all nurse's threatened curling, and frizzing,
and pinning, with a martyr's fortitude, which was a
wise determination, for the operation lasted a full
hour ; during which time, her patience, though sorely
tried, never once failed; and by seeming to enter
fully into the spirit of the business, she contrived to
have her own taste predominant, without offending
that of Mrs. Burro wes, who was so pleased, that she
kissed her at least a dozen times ; and at every ad-
dition to her dress, discovered a new likeness to the
numerous Oglandbys, whose pictures adorned the
gallery of the family mansion.

" Now, nurse," said Dora, when the last pin was

IRISHWOMEN. 71

declared to be fixed, and that Mrs. Burrowes had re-
treated a few paces in order to judge of the tout en-
semble— " Now, nurse, I hope you will allow me to
go down stairs, and sit quietly with my mother till
the carriage comes."

<c Stop only for one moment, my darling, and just
take one look in the glass, and tell me if you don't
like yourself. Do, Miss Dora, dear, to oblige me/5

Dora was in an obliging mood, and she looked, and
was pleased. " I assure you," said she, with the
most unaffected simplicity, " I think I look remark-
ably well. I wonder will my mother think so ?"

Father, mother, and aunt, did certainly think so,
when she made her appearance in the drawing-room ;
though they did not express their admiration so
plainly as Mrs. Burrowes, who made fifty excuses to
come into the room, and each time stood for a minute
or two, looking at her with undisguised satisfaction^
and muttering blessings with great volubility. She
had placed scouts on the watch for the first appear-
ance of the carriage, and was becoming rather fid-
gety, when it was announced as having turned into
the gate.

Immediately all hands were at work, shawling and
cloaking.

"Dora, have you got on my fur slippers?" asked
Mrs. Falconer.

" Double that shawl over your chest, my love," re-
commended her father.

" And muffle yourself up carefully from the night
air on your return, my precious child," said her mo-
ther, as she gave her the parting kiss.

" And, oh ! Miss Dora, don't be crumpling your

72 IRISHMEN AND

sleeves in that way," screamed Mrs. Burro wes.
" Mind to give them a shake out when you get into
the hall. Stop, Miss, I must go before you with the
candle. Do you hear, Flood ! Stretch that mat on
the flag, to the step of the carriage ; and one of you
hold up an umbrella over her head, for the wind will
tossicate her hair to nothing."

"Dora," called out the old gentlemen from the
carriage, " never mind all that fuss, but get in at
once. We shall be rather late as it is, and Lady
Thorndale hates to be kept waiting."

But though he was an Oglandby, Mrs. Burro wes
resisted his orders, and held Dora fast till the mat
was spread, and then, without insisting on the um-
brella, which could not be found in a hurry, permit-
ted her to advance.

ce Is that Miss Dora?" asked a shrill voice, the in-
stant she appeared outside the door.

" It is," she replied, recognizing the voice of Lan-
ty M 'Grail, " but I cannot speak to you now."

ee I have something for you, Miss," said he, as he
pushed between Mrs. Burrowes and the servant who
held the carriage-door.

" Thank you, thank you, Lanty," putting her hand
on the footman's extended arm. " Come to-mor-
row, for you see I cannot speak to you now."

" Here it is, and you must have it now," persisted
Lanty, who had forced his way close to her side, and
raised a large milk-pail to a level with her head.

Her foot was on the step, but struck with the ear-
nestness of his manner, she paused for a second, and in
that second was deluged by a shower of liquid mud,
which ran copiously from her head, in inky streams,

IRISHWOMEN. 73

down the manifold draperies in which her figure was
enveloped.

The shock took away her breath, and she rushed
back into the hall, where she was in an instant sur-
rounded by all who had witnessed the scene, not ex-
cepting old Mr. Oglandby, who jumped from the
carriage with the agility of a man some thirty or
forty years younger than himself.

Mr. and Mrs. Milward, and Mrs. Falconer, quickly
joined the party in the hall ; and for a few minutes
the alarm of the family was truly distressing, as
they could not guess the extent of the injury sus-
tained by Dora, who sat, unable to speak, in a much
more woful plight than we have ever heard related of
the most unfortunate heroine of romance.

"5 1 am not at all hurt/' she said at last to her mo-
ther, who was hanging over her, pale with apprehen-
sion. " I am merely a little out of breath ; and
when I throw off these odious clothes, I shall be as
well as ever/'

Re-assured by her cheerful manner, one and all
began to talk together, some asking questions, and
some answering two or three at a time, till they were
overpowered by the stentorian voice of Mr. Ogland-
by, who, in the bitterness of his disappointment, being
as anxious for Dora's introduction to the world as
Mrs. Burrowes herself, scolded every individual pre-
sent, from the Honorable Mrs. Falconer, his niece, to
the footman behind his carriage. He offered to wait
half an hour — an hour, till Dora could be re-equipped.
The Charlesborough clock might be slow, and, at all
events, slow or fast, he would wait any reasonable

E

74 IRISHMEN AND

time. But reason was totally out of the question,
Two hours of scrubbing, washing, brushing, and dry-
ing, could scarcely restore her to the state in which
Mrs. Burrowes began her merely ornamental manoeu-
vres ; and being at length convinced of the hopeless-
ness of the case, the old gentleman drove off in the
very worst humour that a naturally irritable temper
could produce.

When Dora had got rid of all her bespattered muf-
flings, and her face in some degree cleared of the mud,
now fast hardening into a crust, so that she could see
her way up stairs, she was again preceded by Mrs.
Burrowes to her mother's dressing-room. Hei mihi !
quantum mutata, in the space of one brief hour,
when she had taken the self-complacent look at her
figure, and was the object of admiration to the whole
house. She now felt no inclination to take even a
passing look at her present appearance, but quietly
suffered herself to be disrobed by her half-bewildered
attendant, who, with the assistance of Mrs. Falconer
and Kitty Moore, made so decided an attack with
soap and water, that all traces of her late bespatter-
ing quickly disappeared from her person ; and their
joint labour was expended in brushing, drying, and
perfuming her hair, which had suffered most under
Lanty's offering.

During this operation, she had a little time for col-
lecting her scattered thoughts; and as the whole
scene, and its consequences, rose to her view, poor
Dora felt mortified to the quick. The disappoint-
ment was, in itself, sufficiently trying, but the con-
sequences infinitely more so. She was aware of the

IRISHWOMEN. 75

ludicrous light in which her adventure would be
viewed, and in which Harriet Thorndale would cer-
tainly place it — tracing the progress of her friendship
with her uncouth protege, though all its stages, to
the tragi-comic catastrophe, by which it was ended.
She would gladly have compromised for a very slight
fracture, or sprained ancle, or any trifling accident,
which could have given a more sublime interest to
her adventure ; and she had nearly made up her mind
to keep her bed for a few days, but through fear of
alarming her mother. She was so completely en-
grossed by her own thoughts as scarcely to hear the
threats of vengeance against Lanty, reiterated by
Mrs. Burrowes, every time she wielded the comb-
brush, or sprinkled lavender water through her hair;
or the sage reflections of Mrs. Falconer, whose pro-
phetical warnings against the mischievous propensi-
ties of the boy, had been completely disregarded un-
der the canting plea of duty. There was no occasion
to irritate Dora's feelings against the culprit, which
were at the time, nearly as much divested of charity,
as his worst enemy could wish. Whenever his name
reached her ears, she involuntarily exclaimed to her-
self, " Ungrateful little urchin!"— "Abominable little
wretch !" and such like spiteful expressions, which,
though we are conscious may sink her in the opinion
of our elegant or sentimental readers, were, never-
theless, very natural, considering the provocation,
and the short time which she had to control her un-
ruly feelings.

After nearly two hours' hard work, she was pro-
nounced fit to be seen ; and joined her father and

E2

76 IRISHMEN AND

mother, at the tea-table, not without a little feeling
of awkwardness, as she passed two or three of the
servants, who remembered the cock-a-hoop air, with
which she had descended the stairs, a short time
before.

IRISHWOMEN. 77

CHAPTER VI.

ALTHOUGH it may argue a liking for low company,,
yet we cannot resist the inclination to take leave of
Miss Milward at the drawing-room door, and adjourn
with Mrs. Burrowes to the kitchen, which she entered
with an expression of countenance, that forbade any
sympathy with her feelings, and silenced all the
tongues, before going very giibly. The unfortunate
new gown, with its enormous flimsy sleeves, spotted
and stained, and splashed all over, hung upon her
arm ; and as she fhmg it upon the back of a chair,
she burst into a violent fit of crying, which instead
of soothing, seemed to increase her irritability. The
servants saw that a storm was coming; and each
felt uneasy till they knew on which of them it would
expend its fury. They were not long kept in sus-
pense, for it blew a hurricane upon Flood, the foot-
man, for letting Lanty escape.

" I can't see what use there is in fellows like you
about a gentleman's place, if you let monkeys and
ruffians destroy and murder every body, and never
move a hand to punish them."

tc Never believe me, Ma'am," said Flood, with
great earnestness, " but I was so taken by surprise,
if I knew that I had ,a hand upon my body, when I
saw the outlandish villany of the young thief."

" Didn't you know, then, that you had a pair of
legs that #re nimble enough to run after your own

78 IRISHMEN AND

business ? Yet you would'nt put one foot before the
other to catch that evil-minded natural, who may be
the death of us all, now that he has got off scot-free
to plot more mischief."

" It's little business of my own I can do/' said
Flood, " with all the running- and scampering I have
in this house ; but one word for all, Mrs. Burrowes, I
was so beside myself that I could do no more than
yourself, and that was little enough. Who's at the
door there ?" he cried loudly, glad of any interruption
to the housekeeper's eloquence.

" Good luck to your work/' said Ileen Garvey, en-
tering, with her cloak over her head, and addressing
Kitty Moore, who was wiping the handle of her dust-
pan. " I was forced to run off in this condition, for
word came to the Mistress, that Lanty M'Grail was
after pisoning Miss Dora ; and I thought she would
have fainted, or dropt down dead upon the spot, when
she heard it: so she bid me run for my life, dark as
it was, and be back in no time ; but I hope it isn't
true, seeing yees all so lively."

" He done his best to murder her," answered Kit-
ty, " only she had a wonderful escape for her life ;
and you wouldn't know now that a haporth was the
matter with her."

" I'm as glad to hear that," said Ileen, with a glow
of pleasure over her animated countenance, fe as if I
got a new pair of shoes. But how was it at all, Kit-
ty dear? And what come over Miss Dora, to take
any thing out of his dirty hands ?"

" Ah ! how could she help it ?" began Kitty ; but
her harangue was stopped by Mrs. Burrowes, who
chose to tell the whole story ; which she gave, with

IRISHWOMEN. 79

many circumstances purely imaginative, such as
the strong smell of vitriol, which she perceived the
moment the contents of the pail descended on her
young lady's head, and other horrors of a like na-
ture.

(i But," said she, as a climax to all she had been
relating, "look at the destruction he has brought
upon us all !" and she displayed the ill-fated gown to
lleen's astonished gaze.

fc Oh ! murder !" cried the girl, quite overcome.
" I wouldn't wonder if he was gibbeted after that —
such a beautiful thing my eyes never looked on
afore ! — And was it that she had on, ma'am, when he
was tempted by his foolishness ?"

"9C:he very one, Ileen, and no other. I dressed her
in it myself, not passing an hour before. It only
came from Dublin last week, a present from her
grand-uncle, Mr. John Oglandby."

" It's the admiration, sure enough, if it was clane,"
said Ileen, venturing to touch it. " What a power of
waste there is in them sacks of sleeves ! — Why, they
would make caps for the mistress, for seven years to
come. Oh ! Lanty, Lanty, I'm afraid it's all over
with you after that job ; and would you believe me,
Ma'am, if I didn't think him well-natured. Many's
the kittle of water he has run for, for myself, when I
had two things to do at a time, as girls often has in a
throng of a hurry."

" He, well natured !" exclaimed Mrs. Burrowes ;
but her wrath was diverted from Ileen by the voice
of Johnny Monroe speaking to the footman.

" Archy Flood," he began, " I am one that have
seen plenty in my days, that would take the sight

80 IRISHMEN AND

from many with failing hearts; and though I am
shaking now, I can bear any thing, let it be ever so
bad. So, if Miss Dora is dead, by the blow of the
stone from that unfortunate boy, speak it out, without
beating about the bush. It is better when a man
knows the worst at once, for then he is prepared for
what comes after."

" It wasn't a blow of a stone she got at all ; it was
only some dirty water ; and she's now above stairs,
pouring out the tea, as well as yourself, Johnny, if
not better."

<e Johnny," said Mrs. Burrowes, " sit down here on
this chair, beside me, and I will tell you all about it,
better than Archy, who, by his own account, never
knows whether he is standing on his head or his
heels."

She then recapitulated her story, with even more
embellishments than Ileen had been treated to, and
ended by directing his attention to the lamentable
state of the spick-and-span new gown.

" Small matter about that, Mrs. Burrowes," an-
swered Monroe. " Weavers and women-stichers
would toss up a hundred of that sort of tackling,
as fast as they are wanted : and since the dear child
herself has come off safe, it isn't a christianable thing
to be fretting about trifles."

" What do you mean, Jonny Monroe ? Do you call
all the money's worth there a trifle ? Do you think
that clothes like that can be got every day, only to
drag through the gutter ?"

" No Ma'am ; I wouldn't misuse the poorest rag
after that fashion, let alone things above my station.
But, after all, Mrs. Burrowes, the grandest piece of

IRISHWOMEN. 81

dress that ever came out of the loom, what will it
come to in the end ? Sure it is only made for the
rust and moth to have their will of at last ; and see-
ing that is its destination, I would be sorry to give
one thought of my heart about any thing of the kind,
if H come to an untimely end."

" Why then, Johnny," said Ileen, " I could sit
down and cry my eyes out, when I look at the deso-
lation of that lovely gownd ; and I would give all
I am worth in the world, to have seen Miss Dora
stepping into the coach, in her grandeur and beauti-
fulness, before that Willy-the-wisp got her in his
clutches."

" Why did you not run over Ileen ?" said Mrs.
Burrowes. "I would have put you in the best place
for a view — and, sure enough, you had the loss — for
in all that I ever saw, I never saw the equal to her,
as she waited, while Flood was bungling about the
mat : and though you could only see the bottom of
her dress, being covered up by her aunt's old shawl,
yet, old as it was, it could not conceal the gentlewo-
man in grain. I could compare her to nothing, when
she raised her hand to put it on Frank Dyer's arm,
and looked round at the frog, just preparing to spit
his venom at her, but a queen, who was going to
give her blessing to her followers."

<f I was standing close behind the family," said
Monroe, who had been shaking his head, while Mrs.
Burrowes was speaking, " the day she was brought
into the church to be baptized ; and I heard them
that feared God, and looked to his blessed Son, while
they renounced the pomps and vanities of this wicked
world, in her name — they have gone to their rest ; but

,B..3

82 IRISHMEN AND

her parents have a better right to think closely for
her good : and indeed, I wonder why they would let
one so young, and so innocent, and so unguarded, run
headlong into the temptations of company-steeping,,
knowing the evil of it themselves."

" There is no evil, or no temptation, about her, but
what is in your own head, Johnny Monroe. If you
wonder at the doings of real quality, I wonder that a
man with so much religion for ever on his tongue, can
be glad that] Miss Dora should be killed, all to a
chance, and that her property was lavished and ru-
ined by .the scum of the earth."

" Ah ! Mrs. Burrowes, you look at it the wrong
way: I could not be glad for the wind to .blow con-
trary on that dear child, who I watched with prayers
and blessings, since she first saw the day. I am sore
sorry for the nasty trick was played on her ; and I am
sorry that a tatter belonging, to her would be offend-
ed; but there's no harm in making the best of what
can't be mended, when I know that it's all for good.
She will see that yet ; and yourself may, one day, be
glad that you met with this little tossication."

"•Oh! stop your talking," cried the lady, impati-
ently. fe It's fine doctrine to be preaching, that
wickedness is a good thing, and that people ought to
be glad for the worst of badness. If you were to go
on with your religious words for a year, you wouldn't
take the grief and bitterness out of my heart. Haven't
I the whole elegant .party at Charlesborough this .mi-
mite before my eyes, in all their state and full dress,
as becomes their station— and don't I know that she,
who would have all eyes upon her, if she was there,
is making tea up stairs, in the old plated tea-pot, in

.IRISHWOMEN. 83

loneliness and sorrow — and will any one tell me that
is as it ought to be ?"

The picture of her own painting was so moving,
that §he again burst into tears, and continued sob-
bing as if her heart would break.

Ileen, who should have long since gone home, was
so occupied with listening to the different versions of
the story, as given by each servant in turn, and also
in getting an exact and minute account of every ar-
ticle of dress worn fyy Miss Mil ward on that evening,
that she neither knew nor cared how time passed, till
she was brought to her recollection by the unwelcome
apparition of her mistress, who, attended by the cow-
boy, was already in the middle of the kitchen, before
any one perceived her entrance.

It was the moment when the housekeeper's grief
was at the highest, and Mrs. Costigan supposed, from
the general appearance of the household, that her
worst fears were .realized. A cold shivering came
over her limbs, and as she tottered to a seat, she said
reproachfully to her. maid —

"You might have saved me this- blow, at least, if
you had the feeling to come home, as you ought, and
not bring me out after you, being worn out with
waiting ; but now, lend me your hand, and let you
and Tim drag me home this minute, as well as you
can ; for I would not look one of the family in the
face for more than the sun ever shone upon."

" Ah ! mistress dear !" said Ileen, running over. to
her, " don't be daunted so asy. Miss Dora and all
the family is come to no loss, barring in the matter of
an elegant new gownd, that's splashed to no end, and

84 IRISHMEN ANB

that Mrs. Burrowes can't stop fretting after. Sure if
I had any thing bad to tell, I would have been with
you in a hurry; and I was only waiting to hear every
word of news, for 'fraid I would have my journey
back again if I didn't bring all."

Mrs. Costigan, who was a parlour visitor, made no
small sensation in the kitchen. Mrs. Bnrrowes quick-
ly dried her eyes, and forgot her grief in her anxiety
to relate, for the third time, the disastrous event of
the evening. Mrs. Costigan was interested in every
stage of the story; and when it reached the lamenta-
ble conclusion, her expressions of anger were to the
full as violent as those of the animated narrator. But
she had as little sympathy for the gown as Monroe
himself, though her indifference was expressed in
other terms.

" Oh ! toss it to the rag-bag at once, nurse. Since
she is safe, who cares if it was washed in the ken-
nel ? Her old grand-uncle, who gave her that, can
give her twenty better ones if he liked it ; and it
would be no harm if his purse was open oftener than
it is."

Mrs. Burrowes was nearly as much annoyed by the
philosophy of the one comforter, as by the religion of
the other. She, however, did not permit any impa-
tient expression to escape her, farther than by saying,
" Well, well ! it's a pity for all that, to see the good
gentleman's present treated worse than the common-
est linsey wolsey. But, Mrs. Costigan, I hope you
won't take Johnny Monroe's part against me, and want
me to be joyful and glad, because my child was near-
ly put out of the world/'

IRISHWOMEN. 85

" Why, then, Johnny, did you leave your senses
after you in the army, that there was room for such a
thought in your head ?" asked Mrs. Costigan.

" Mrs. Burrowes, Ma'am," he replied, fc misunder-
stands ray meaning, from first to last. I only want-
ed to make her sensible that nothing happens by
chance, but that the disappointments and trials which
the people of God meet with in this world, are all in-
tended to work together for their good. It would
be foolish to talk of Miss Dora's accident under the
name of a misfortune ; yet, trifling as it looks, I will
be bold to say, that it was not allowed by Him who
rules above, and whose child I well believe she is,
without a wise meaning in it. She will see that yet,
and be glad he stopped her in her own course. She
will see it sometime or other, either here or hereaf-
ter— how do I know which?"

" How do you know so much about it, any way ?"
inquired Mrs. Costigan, sharply, " that you speak so
confidently. How did you travel so far up, as to find
out what God thinks, or what he does ? But," she
continued very quickly, as if to hinder a reply, "."I
believe I guess what you will make answer, and I
don't want any conversation of that kind now." Then
turning to Mrs. Burrowes, " I am entirely curious,
nurse, to know what you did to Lanty ?"

" Ask Archy Flood there, what he did to him ; and
ask the coachman, and Pat Toole, for they were all
standing by, and let him walk off cool and easy,
without so much as saying one word to him."

" It was all done, Ma'am," said Flood, " as Mrs.
Burrowes well knows, before you could tell the half
of it; and when he did the mischief, he was over the

OO IRISHMEN AND

paling like a shot, so that if we had a hundred legs
and arms between us, we could not catch him. But
if ever he puts his nose inside the gate again, he'll be
sorry for it."

" Aye, or that old witch his grandmother, who is
the hatcher of all the mischief that is done in Ireland,"
said Mrs. Burro wes. " Mind I tell every one of you,
that if Alice O'Neil ever darkens this door" —

Her speech was cut short by the appearance of the
very identical Alice, slowly and cautiously opening
the door, which so astounded the lady, that she sa
staring at her, without the power of .giving. utterance
to her indignation.

But the forbearance of the housekeeper was of no
avail to poor Alice, against whom the tongues of all
the serv ants were instantly in motion ; and the old
woman, who had the credit of being the greatest. scold
in the county, was so completely overcome by the
torrents of abuse from all quarters, that she could
only clasp her hands, and look pitifully round on her
persecutors.

" I beg pardon," said she, the moment she could
obtain a hearing — <( I beg pardon of yees all, every
one of yees, gentle and simple, if ever I offended one
of yees, man, woman, or child. It is no pushingness,
nor looking for nothing, that brought me out this
could blowing night, but that it is through the coun-
try that my unfortunate orphant was unmannerly to
Miss Dora, and I want to know what he done, that I
may punish him when I lay hould on him."

"Take no trouble about that," said Flood, "for -he

IRISHWOMEN. 87

wove a web for him self lo-night wilbdo for his wind-
ing-sheet. He'll be hung as round as a. ball before he
is a quarter older."

" Andif he deserves it, much good may it do him/'
said sthe good-natured grandmother. " I will never
say one word in his favour. But just tell me which
of yees vexed him, to make him behave like what he
never did afore ?"

' f Go out of the house this minute, you notorious
vagrant !" cried the housekeeper, recovering the use
of her tongue. " Who knows but you have a bag of
gunpowder in your pocket to blow us all up. Go out
of the house, I say, and never venture into my pre-
sence again !"

" And look out for a new lodging as quick as you
please," said Mrs. Costigan ; "for my 'husband won't
suffer bad people on his land. If you don't flit before
twelve o'clock to-morrow, I will order the men to
tear the roof off your cabin, and scatter the walls of
it to the four corners of the parish, before you shall
sleep in it another night."

"And send me back the needle I lent you, Saturday
was eight days," added the dairy-maid; "not that
I'll ever do a stitch with it again,, only J want to have
done with you."

"And be cautious how you ever pass the gate,"
said PatToole, the turf-boy, "for my name isn't Pat,
if I won't set all the dogs in, the parish after you."

"Oh! boys and girls," cried Monroe, "keep in
mind that sheas a fellow- creature, and has feelings in
her mind like one of ourselves. The worst that ever
trod the earth oughtn't to be threatened with the

GO IRISHMEN AND

usage of wild beasts, or despised as if they were not
God's making."

" I like to hear you speak in that way, Johnny,"
said Ileen, " for though, if I was put to my oath, I
darn't say that I loved a bone in the skin of some
people, (glancing at Alice,) still I couldn't despise
them into the shape of horses and cows."

" Och ! och !" whined Alice — " and isn't the cattle,
and the dumb brutes better off nor me this night, with
the punishment I have in my body, let alone what
you are putting off your tongues again me. Good
luck to yees, and lave me in pace the little time I'll
be among yees; for I'm going fast with every com-
plaint anunder the sun. The back is dropping out of
me, I have a cough would kill the world, and all
that's nothing to the pain in my bones."

ee You see, Ma'am," said Monroe, " it mightn't be
fair to put much blame upon the poor creature, with-
out reasoning cases first. The boy is headstrong, like
all that has his failing, and he may be revengeful, as
they often are, though I never judged it to be that
way with him before. Moreover, last Sunday he was
vexed with Miss Dora, for not giving him a bit of a
cap when he was unruly ; and it's my belief that that
cap brought the trouble on him, without this poor
woman having act or part in it."

" Mr. Monroe/' cried Alice, ' ' if / wasn't expected
this minute, I'd make my affidavit about the cap.
He stomached it wonderful; though I led him the
life of a dog, when he drew it down at-all, at-all. I
may lay his going to the bad, entirely upon that
school. Before he went to it, he was as biddable as

IRISHWOMEN. 89

a child ; but after he tuck a book in hand — I might
whistle for the mile-stone to dance, and it would do it
sooner nor he would mind a word from me."

" To my mind," said Monroe, " and after the judg-
ing of others, he was only the better for going to
school, Alice."

" Och ! och !" she continued, " I was the unlucky
woman to let him put a foot inside a school, and I
never would, only I thought Miss Dora would chas-
tise him like any other schoolmaster, and not let him
run wild. But I hope she'll wattle him well next
Sunday, till his four bones aches for a month."

" Listen to her !" said Mrs. Burrowes. " You are
too ignorant to talk sense to, you pest of an old wo-
man. Do you think a lady come of her stock would
demean herself to touch that scald-crow of a grand*-
son of yours ?"

" I beg your pardon, Ma'am, for making so bould
to speak to yees at all — only seeing that she will have
him at the book, I thought she might do to him, as is
done to every child like him."

" Child, indeed !" said Mrs. Costigan. " You'll not
get out of the scrape that way. I have good reason
for knowing that his father was transported sixteen
years, last lady-day in harvest ; and he was a lump
of a boy, in arms, at the time. Why the ill-thriven
thing must be close on eighteen this very minute."

"You always had the fine memry," said Alice,
(C and I hope it will be left with you — not like me,
who often can't tell if I'm alive or dead. All I know
is this, that from the hour he was born, he was my
torment, and my drag : and it's a poor thing if he'll

90 IRISHMEN AND

be my ruin, out and out, with every friend I have in
the world/'

" If you were to go away, Alice/' said Monroe, " it
would be no harm. People's minds won't always see
the justice of a thing when they are in a confusion^
Mrs. Costigan will think twice, before she puts you
out ; and as for the parson, he won't visit the sins of
others upon you."

" Oh ! Mrs. Costigan !" cried the housekeeper, see-
ing her about to follow Alice, ce you won't leave the
house, till you see them up stairs. We would have
fine work on our hands, if the mistress knew you %
were here, and didn't see you."

It was fruitless for Mrs. Costigan to protest and ex-
postulate, and show her shoes, and her rumpled cap,
and to make haflf-a-hundred other excuses. Flood
was despatched to the drawing-room, and the next
minute Mr. Milward himself was ushering her up
stairs.

" Sir," said Monroe, who had followed them from
the kitchen, " would it be looked on as above my sta-
tion, if I asked just to get one look at Miss Dora,
and to say a word to her that is in my mind. I won't
keep her half a minute, if she only puts her head out
of the door to me."

Dora met her friend in the hall, the moment her fa-
ther told her his wishes.

" Now I am content," said he, " for I see you are
not a hair the worse, for that poor deluded creature's
evil intentions. Ah ! Miss Dora, be grateful, as you
ought, and don't be discontented at what there's
some reason for,, if we could see it. Don't be angry

IRISHWOMEN. 91

with me, Miss ; but I can't help being better pleased
to have you sitting with your own dear christianable
parents, than flaunting in grandeur with them that
leave their souls to chance. You're not angry with
me, Miss, for saying so much to you, that maybe isn't
my business ?"

4f Not at all, Mr. Monroe: I am truly obliged for
your good wishes and good advice. I am really en-
deavouring not to feel my little disappointment, as
I am sure it is all for the best. After this evening
I shall never throw away a thought on the sub-
ject/'

" You are a wonderful creature for your years !
No, no ; no wonder about it, considering your rear-
ing. But I'll not keep you any longer from them who
have the best right to your company, and who may
well be proud of you — only pride don't become us ;
and nobody ought to be proud if they could help
it."

Mrs. Costigan had never been at Rathedmond since
the death of her child, and had dreaded the first visit,
as an event which would strongly bring back recol-
lections of a very painful nature ; but fortunately it
was made under such circumstances as precluded the
possibility of being solely occupied with her own feel-
ings. She had a vague idea that she ought to be par-
ticularly unhappy, but there was no time to arrange
her ideas in their proper order ; and she was, per-
haps, glad of the confusion, which gave an odd kind
of rest to her mind, by changing its usual bent.
Again she asked the same round of questions in the
drawing-room, which had been so fully answered in
the kitchen ; and again threatened such a full mea-

92 IRISHMEN AND

sure of vengeance against Lanty and his grandmo-
ther, that the injured party had to intercede strongly
in their favour. She at length promised, that if Ned
Costigan would say nothing about turning them out,
she would not plead against them ; and after sitting
for some time, prescribing for Mrs. Milward, and ad-
miring Mrs. Falconer's netting, and beseeching of
Dora to wash her hands entirely of the Sunday-school,
summoned Ileen, and Tim Lonegan, the cow-boy, to
attend her home.

IRISHWOMEN.

CHAPTER VII.

THE interest excited by Miss Mil ward's adventure,
which would, at any other time, have supplied ' f ar-
gument for, at least, a week/' if not "a good joke for
ever," was but of a few hours continuance, being ab-
sorbed in that produced by the more serious attack
upon Mr. Oglandby, on his return from dining at
Charlesborough. As our readers are in full posses-
sion of the conspiracy, we shall not keep them in sus-
pense as to the event. The intention of the murder-
ers was providentially frustrated by their aiming too
high ; so that most of the slugs and bullets passed
through the roof of the carriage, above the old gen-
tleman's head, which had sunk upon his breast while
enjoying a comfortable nap; and the coachman, though
wounded in the shoulder, was able to drive him home
in safety.

Mr. Oglandby was one of those persons to whom
notoriety is every thing. To be born to (e blush un-
seen," would have been to him the most dire cala-
mity ; and he would at any time have endured a cer-
tain quantum of personal inconvenience, provided he
was an object of general interest or curiosity. When,
therefore, on the following morning he found himself
alive and well, and that the coachman's wound was
pronounced slight, he enjoyed the degree of conse-
quence accruing to him, from the attempt on his life,

94 IRISHMEN ATSfD

with great satisfaction, which was proportionally
increased, when his hat was discovered to be perfor-
ated with a bullet — a circumstance completely over-
looked in the confusion of the preceding night. He
gave orders to his servants with a less dictatorial air
than usual, as if conscious that his present situation
required no extraneous aid to give him consequence
in the eyes of the world. The hat was laid on the
table, the carriage wheeled within view of the win-
dows, the coachman's wounded coat placed in a con-
spicuous situation, and he seated himself in his kan-
garoo chair, impatiently expecting the arrival of vi-
sitors.

Some of our readers may be inclined to find fault
with us for dwelling upon this exhibition of childish
vanity, without alluding to those better feelings which
must have found place in his mind, when so provi-
dentially saved from a violent death. We may be
reminded, that the most callous heart will feel a
throb of gratitude when the hair-breadth escape is
fresh in the memory and it would be gratifying to
hear, that one who had been the recipient of manifold
mercies for threescore years and ten, would, on so
manifest an interference in his favour, offer up the
glowing thanksgivings of a grateful heart to the
<( Preserver of men." But we have no such gratifying
theme on which to expatiate. If ever a flash of pious
feeling glanced on his imagination at the recollection
of his escape, it was imperceptible to all, but to
({ Him who searcheth the heart/' He appeared stu-
diously to avoid all reference to the Great First
Cause ; and ascribed his preservation to chance, or

IRISHWOMEN. 95

good luck, and particularly to the wind, which had
blown out the crazy lamps a few minutes before the
carriage reached the grove.

<c You may thank the wind for saving you the ex-
pense of putting your whole family in mourning,
Harry," said he to Mr. Milward, who was the first
to make personal inquiries after him ; " for if the
lamps had given them light to take proper aim, you
would have been an uncle out of pocket. 1 should
have been as dead as a mackarel, Harry."

" Your thanks, and mine, Sir, are due to him who
f walketh upon the wings of the wind,' " replied Mr.
Milward.

" Very well said, indeed, and quite in the way of
your profession, which is as it ought to be. But as
my trade is not preaching, allow me to express my-
self as I please. Look at that hat, Harry : the ball
passed within a quarter of an inch of my head. If
any body had been sitting with me in the carriage"

The old gentleman's voice faltered : for though the
company of his beautiful niece would have added
treble interest to the scene in which he had been a
principal actor, yet he could not contemplate the
danger she had escaped, without betraying emotions
which he considered unmanly; and he summoned
a violent fit of coughing to his aid, for the purpose of
concealing them. When the paroxysm was over,
Mr. Milward, who was scarcely less agitated than
himself, endeavoured to improve the subject to his
edification, but he suddenly shifted his ground, and
asked, with much asperity of manner —

" What is the cause of the present lawless state of
the lower orders ? Answer me that, Harry."

96 IRISHMEN AND

" I have repeatedly given you my opinion on that
subject, Sir ; but, unfortunately, we do not see the
matter in the same light."

" And I have as repeatedly given you my opinion,
and you have as repeatedly shut your eyes against
plain, matter-of-fact evidence. Mind, I say, matter-
of-fact, Harry. In my young days, the people were
quiet, and loyal, and civil, and orderly; yet not one
man in fifty could sign his name, or distinguish one
letter from another. Then a gentleman might ride,
or walk, or drive, at all hours, without the slightest
apprehension — now you have educated them with a
vengeance. Every common labourer on your ground
can read, and write, and cypher — and what is the
consequence ? Look at that hat, and that coat, and
that chaise. They speak volumes of matter-of-fact,
which all your theories and novelties cannot contra-
dict."

et I am not competent, Sir, to judge of the charac-
ter of the lower orders in your young days, except
by report, which leads me to suppose it not so very
exemplary as you imagine. I have heard of White-
boys, and Peep-o'-day-boys, and boys of other deno-
minations, all employed in the same outrages — all
exhibiting the same savage propensities with the
Kockites of the present day."

" They were not half so bad. Their's was mere
child's play, compared with the enormities of the
educated gentlemen of the present generation : and
for this good reason, they had not the power to do
mischief to the same extent — that power which you
and other lady and gentleman philanthropists, have
so benevolently supplied to their descendants."

IRISHWOMEN. 97

" They had not the same physical force/' replied
Mr. Milward. " The population has increased enor-
mously since that period."

<e Physical nonsense ! They always swarmed like rab-
bits in a burrow. Listen to me, Harry. My father,
your wife's grandfather, who represented this coun-
ty thirty-seven years, and who knew the character
of every individual in it, often gave it as his decided
opinion, founded on long experience, that the begin-
ning of every villany could be traced to the half-do-
zen fellows who knew how to read and write. School-
master and mischief-monger were synonymous terms
with him. And when my own experience is supported
by the opinion of such a man, can I look upon your
adult schools, and week-day schools, and Sunday
schools in any other light, than so many nurseries of
insubordination and rebellion ?"

"Perhaps, Sir, I should agree with your father
more than you are aware of; for he could scarcely
have a worse opinion of such schoolmasters as he
alluded to, than I have. I think they do incalcula-
ble mischief; and my efforts have been unceasing to
get rid of them out of the country. But to your
first position — that education has produced such a
fearful increase of crime. How do you account for
the fact, that the only persons in this, and the neigh-
bouring parishes, who have never been implicated in
deeds of violence, are those who have received their
education in the schools which meet with your so
very decided disapprobation?"

" That is all assertion, Harry. The fact remains
to be proved. I say that the whole world is going to

F

98 IRISHMEN AND

school, and, of consequence, is growing worse and
worse every day."

" What I have asserted, Sir, can be proved ; and I
appeal, not merely to this neighbourhood, but to the
country at large, for the proof. There is one very
simple mode of gaining information on this point.
Search the jails of every county in Ireland, and out
of the aggregate of prisoners confined on charges of
an outrageous nature, we boldly challenge you to
produce one in fifty — I might say, an hundred — who
has had the benefit of a scriptural education."

" Very fine talk, Harry : and, no doubt, you be-
lieve all that you have been saying. However, you
must excuse me making a tour of inquiry. I am
content to take your word for the truth of your state-
ment. But, if education has given such a check to
crime, how am I to account for it, that so many of
your enlightened pupils are, at this moment, candi-
dates, not only for the jail, but for the gallows ?"

f< That, Sir, is a fact of which I was not before
aware."

" No, Harry, because you willingly shut your eyes
against matter of fact. You are not aware, that you
and my Lady Thorndale have been educating the
parish for the last seventeen years, and that Mr.
O'Floggin is also educating hard and fast ? Witness
the shoals of dirty little brats running from the cha-
pel every Sunday morning, a thing never heard of,
till you set the example with your Sunday schools.
And you are not aware that an attempt was, last
night, made upon my life by some of those fellows,
who have learned all sorts of accomplishments in
your seminaries ?"

IRISHWOMEN. 99

" I much doubt the fact, Sir. At all events, time
will tell. We have certainly offered the means of
education to the whole parish, but you know, full
well, that a very small part, indeed, of the population
has been permitted to take advantage of it. As to
Mr. O'Floggin's system, 1 do not advocate it, believ-
ing it, like all others emanating from such quarters,
to be worse than bad. Neither would I be supposed
to allege, that there may not have been individual in-
stances of disappointment in the case of young per-
sons who were well instructed. But judging from
pretty long experience, I must still persist in declar-
ing, that the only counteraction hitherto of any avail
to the manifold evils under which this unhappy coun-
try suffers, (from whatever causes they may have
proceeded,) is the scriptural education which we
have been attempting to disseminate among the lower
orders."

f( You will never make a convert of me to your
opinion, Harry ; so try your hand upon Fitzcarrol
and his puppy of a son, who I see riding down the
avenue. I cannot say, but it is very good-natured of
them to call so soon, though they are, one and other,
the most tiresome pair on the face of the earth."

Mr. Fitzcarrol, it may be perceived, was not a fa-
vourite with the old gentleman ; nor was he more
fortunate with any of the aristocracy of the country,
being very generally unpopular, by assuming a degree
of consequence to which neither his birth, education,
or fortune, entitled him. He was the son of a farmer,
who, by dint of hard industry, scraped together the
purchase-money of a small estate, which, with one
or two very valuable leases in perpetuity, made him

F2

JOG IRISHMEN AND

what is called a warm man, but never elevated him
quite to the rank of a gentleman : whether from his
own humility, or that real gentlemen were more com-
mon in Ireland at that time than now, we have no
data on which to form an opinion. A long minority,
and honest guardians, added considerably to the ori-
ginal property ; and when the heir arrived at the age
of twenty-one, there was a handsome sum in hands,
which being judiciously laid out in another purchase,
he, at once, started into life as an indubitable, estated
gentleman.

Being a young man of spirit — or, in more truth-
telling phrase, a very impudent fellow — he made the
most of himself; and while some laughed at him,
and others endeavoured to chill him to a proper
distance, others gave way to his pretensions, and
quietly permitted him to stand on the same level
with themselves, without noticing the awkward jumps
he had to make before he arrived at it. Among the
acquiescents were the Braymores, a family of some
consideration in the country, who patronised him, at
first through opposition to the Oglandbys, and after-
wards for the more amiable reason of the close con-
nexion between them, when one of the daughters of
the family condescended to accept him for a husband.
There was a good deal of coquetting with the father
and brothers, and other relatives, on his first ad-
vances ; but there was a superfluity of daughters,
with very slender portions, and a lamentable lack of
marrying men in the country at the time, so that his
overtures were, on the whole, very well received:
.and as the head of the house of Austria, when he
had matched his daughter with the Corsican parvenu,

IRISHWOMEN. 101

was anxious to trace his descent from some princely
stock, so the Braymores broadly insinuated that their
new relative was come of gentle blood, though it had
flowed through rather muddy channels, for a few ge-
nerations, and tacitly apologised for the connection,
by a retrospect to a pedigree so ancient, as to mock
the researches of that most enthusiastic of all enthu-
siasts— an Irish antiquary. Napoleon, it is said, had
the good taste to despise the petty imposture, and si-
lenced his imperial father-in-law, by coldly remark-
ing, that he was the Rodolph of his own fortune ;
but Hector Fitzcarrol, Esq. entered so fully into the
spirit of the hunt after ancestry, that he fairly dis-
tanced his wife's relatives, who were afterwards often
annoyed by the airs of the young masters and misses
Fitzcarrol on the score of family. But none resisted
the ancestorial encroachments like the Oglandbys.
They had borne much in dignified silence — had
merely shrugged their shoulders at the enclosure of
a deer-park at Carrolsfort, formerly Bally Geraghty
— had calmly tolerated the two silver soup-tureens,
though much handsomer than those at Oglandby Cas-
tle ; but when he talked of his family, they resisted
the intrusion on their privileged ground with a de-
gree of heat more than the provocation might be
supposed to deserve; and consequently, the feud
which from time immemorial had subsisted between
them and the Braymores, broke out with double ani-
mosity.

Still Hector pushed his way, and aimed at being a
leading man in the county, which had already more
than a sufficiency of such worrying personages. He
found it, however, difficult to gain much ground, be-

102 IRISHMEN AND

fore the Union ; but when that measure was effected,
he advanced half-a-dozen steps without much effort.
One or two large estates were sold in divisions, and
the proprietors fled in despair to England. The heir
of the Oglandbys, never afterwards visited the seat of
his ancestors, content with drawing regularly every
shilling of his rents — Lord Colverston seldom resided
many months together in Ireland; and Sir Ralph
Thorndale was born to be a very second-rate kind of
personage, at any period, or in any country. But the
tide in his affairs which led on to fortune, was his
sudden change of politics, in the very nick of time.
From being a furious Protestant, he at once became
a decided emancipator, and got all the credit of his
brother-in-law's change of sentiments, being six
months in the field before Mr. Braymore read his re-
cantation in the House of Commons. Now he was
really the idol of the Roman Catholics., who before
regarded him with pretty nearly the same feelings, as
those indulged by the African slave towards his whip-
wielding overseer. He was eulogized from every al-
tar, and huzzaed as he passed through the markets,
and trumpeted in all the public prints which advo-
cated the cause of emancipation. In return for these
grateful and gratifying demonstrations of public con-
sideration, he oratorized, and blustered, and prophe-
sied, and abused the police and Lord Colverston. A
few days before the attack on Mr. Oglandby, he had,
at a meeting of magistrates, pledged himself to pre-
serve the peace of the country, with the assistance of
Mr. O'Floggin, provided Lady Thorndale would dis-
miss her schoolmistress, who was a convert, and not
require the Roman Catholic children to read the Tes-

IRISHWOMEN. 103

tament. Her Ladyship, who was " every thing by
starts, and nothing long/' was more complying than
he either expected or desired : the schoolmistress was
packed off at a moment's warning, and the Testa-
ments locked up. He was, therefore, puzzled how to
redeem his pledge; and, for the first time during
many years, he felt a slight sensation of awkward-
ness creeping over him, as he slowly followed the ser-
vant into Mr. Oglandby's study.

His son, Mr. Conolly Fitzcarrol, was as little at
ease, though from a totally different cause. He was
the counterpart of his father, except that he had even
more pretensions ; for, whereas the elder only aimed
at being a great man, the son's ambition was to be
also a fine man. Some specimens of English finery,
which now and then appeared at Lord Colverston's,
or Sir Ralph Thorn dale's, had early impressed him
with an ardent desire to be like them; and he caie-
fully registered every word, look, and motion, to be
used on their appropriate occasions. Two flying visits
to London had contributed to perfect what these oc-
casional advantages had begun — not, we must con-
fess, that even the name of Fitzcarrol could get him
into good company, or indeed into any company, pro-
perly so called ; but any body acquainted with Lon-
don, knows that there are most valuable opportunities
of improvement in air, &c. to be had, not only at the
opera, but also at bazaars, and other fashionable
lounges, where a young man, anxious for improve-
ment, may copy after the most approved models, and
from their operations in public, can form a tolerably
good idea, how they comport themselves in private.
There is, however, this disadvantage to a person in

104 'IRISHMEN AND

Mr. Conolly Fitzcarrol's circumstances, that it is im-
possible to be prepared by such casual glances, for all
the changes in fashionable manners, which often take
place at head-quarters ; nor will the transplantation
of a single exotic, for a few weeks, to Ireland, be al-
ways satisfactory. Some plants will only flourish in
their mother earth — remove them with the greatest
care, and adapt the soil and temperature as much as
possible to their original situations, and still they in-
sensibly degenerate. A stranger may be deceived
into thinking that he sees them in full perfection ; but
he, who has had the good fortune to admire them in
their native bed, perceives the difference immediately.
The shape of the flower is the same, but the brilli-
ancy of tint is wanting, and the fragrant odour is
scarcely perceptible.

Thus it is with the importations of English high
life, which, like meteoric flashes, sometimes illumin-
ate our foggy atmosphere ; and we seriously give it
as our opinion, that it is not safe to take them as pat-
terns, if their stay be protracted beyond a fortnight.
They positively deteriorate, unless they have the ad-
vantage of the mess-table, or at least go in pairs, or
are morally headless and heartless.

In the preceding autumn, the Honourable Colonel
Toppington, who paid a long promised visit to the
Marquess of , contrived for a few days to

preserve the exquisite edge of high-breeding unblunt-
ed; but whether he wanted a companion to keep him
in countenance, or discovered that he was " wasting
his sweetness on the desert air/' he, at once, disencum-
bered himself of his panoply, offensive and defensive ;
and in a shooting excursion through the province^

IRISH WOM EN. 105

metamorphosed himself so completely, that on his ar-
rival at Traffield House, he was only an unaffected,
elegant gentleman, willing to be pleased, and cheer-
fully accommodating himself to the habits and feel-
ings of those with whom he associated. Poor Con-
olly was completely taken in. He knew that Colonel
Toppington was the very essence of fashion ; and not
being aware, that he saw him at one of those times,
when nature, however bolted and barred out at other
times, and kept at arms length by the sword of
fashion, will force her way, and resume for a time her
dominion, took for granted, that nature had nothing
to do with the matter, and set to, with might and
main, to imitate the lively, playful, and thoroughly
well-bred manners of the English fashionable. During
fourteen happy months, he was Colonel Toppington ;
and was congratulating himself on his good fortune
in having met with such a phoenix, when the arrival
of the sleepy, lisping, lounging, vegetating Lord Farn-
mere, who was gazetted as the non plus ultra of per-
fection, opened his eyes to the delusion under which
he had lain so long, and called upon him imperatively
to retrace his steps. But how was this to be done ?
Light and darkness were not more opposite than his
two prototypes ; and the sudden transition from the
airy gaiety of the one, to the pensive listlessness of
the other, would inevitably draw down upon him the
ridicule of his half-hundred cousins, the Braymores,
who were generally not very delicate in their raillery.
The dilemma in which he was placed was therefore
very distressing ; but on the present occasion he made
up his mind to practise on Mr. Milward, and a few

F3

106 IRISHMEN AND

quiet people, who arrived soon after at the Car-
ragh.

We shall not detain our readers by describing any
of the other visitors, now rapidly dropping in — we
shall let them speak for themselves in the following
chapter.

IRISHWOMEN. 107

CHAPTER VIII.

" IT is the most unaccountable thing I ever heard
of," said Mr. Fitzcarrol, after hearing Mr. Oglandby's
story, and subjecting the hat and coat to a very se-
vere scrutiny. " I never remember the country so
quiet as at this moment, except the usual murmurs
about tithes and parish-cess, which are enough to
raise a rebellion at any time. You must excuse me,
Mr. Milward, speaking my mind so freely ; but things
are coming to a crisis, and there is no use in mincing
matters. I fear we must expect very bad doings,
indeed, till there is some change in the mode of pay-
ing gentlemen of your cloth."

" Upon my honour, Mr. Fitzcarrol," said a red- faced,
elderly man, with something of a gentlemanly air,
though rather shabbily dressed, " they think it a hard-
ship to pay their dues to gentlemen of any cloth, as
I find to my cost."

" Could it be possible," continued Mr. Fitzcarrol,
addressing himself to Mr. Oglandby, without noticing
the last speaker, " that this affair, which certainly
has an ugly look, might be nothing more than the
awkwardness of a few idle boys, who were shooting
owls in the grove ? They very often make parties
there for that purpose."

" Not at-all unlikely," replied the old gentleman,
sarcastically. " It is so usual for boys to go out
fowling with blunderbusses loaded with slugs. You

108 IRISHMEN AND

are an old sportsman, Willy," speaking to him with
the red face, " and what is your opinion on this
point ?"

" Ah ! What matter about the opinion of a man
down in the world like me ?" said Willy. (f But if I
was what I was, the first day I put on my regimen-
tals, I would say that I never heard so outlandish a
come-off, since the hour my grandfather sold my
lawful property, for an old song, to Mr. Fitzcarrol's
father there."

" I merely mentioned the thing as a possibility,"
said Fitzcarrol, still turning a deaf ear to Willy, "for
I really cannot account for it otherwise. I was
speaking to Terence Mulvaney, on my way here, this
morning — you know Terence — a shrewd, sensible
man; and he agreed with me, that it was altogether
unaccountable. He assured me that you were always
a very popular character, which I could vouch for
myself; and when I hinted, that perhaps the eject-
ment of those ten families, last May, might have in-
jured your popularity, he protested that it was no
such thing, as they were universally esteemed a nui-
sance."

" Oh! fair and softly, Hector," cried Willy ; "the
poor people had as good a character as their neigh-
bours : and if they did turn their little oats into a
drop of whiskey, why, small blame to them, in that
back place, where it was hard for the guager to come
at them unknownst — considering, too, the ready sale
it had with the gentlemen, not leaving yourself out
of the number ; for many a keg was left in my dung-
hill, till your driver would come at night to carry it
off."

IRISHWOMEN. 109

"Mr. Geraghty," said Hector, drawing him self up,
*f if you interrupt me every moment, it is impossible
that we can proceed with business. Mulvaney also
told me, that you had behaved so generously to your
worthless tenants that your character, as a landlord,
was higher than ever. The only cause of discontent,
that we could trace in any quarter, was your refusal of
ground to the Methodists, for building a meeting-
house. I merely throw out this as a hint. They are,
generally speaking, very plausible in the present day ;
but we know what they did in Oliver Cromwell's
time."

" You must excuse me, Sir, for reminding you,"
said Mr. Myars, a young curate, from a neighbour-
ing parish, " that the Methodists are of much later
origin than the period to which you refer."

" You must excuse me in return, my good Sir," re-
torted Mr. Fitzcarrol, with unblushing effrontery, "if
I presume to contradict a gentleman of the learned
profession ; but the page of history lies open to all,
and I appeal to it, in support of what I have ad-
vanced."

f ' Oh ! upon my honour, Mr. Myars," said Willy,
" there's no use in denying it among friends; for sure,
none of us would make a blowing-horn of it against
our clergy ; but I read as good as twenty times in
histories, that Oliver Cromwell was nothing more nor
less than a Methodist preacher."

" I cannot understand you, gentlemen," persisted
the curate, "unless you give the name of Methodist
to all religious enthusiasts ; for otherwise, the page
of history, instead of witnessing in your favour, must
tell point blank against you."

110 IRISHMEN AND

He had unconsciously helped the historian out of
the slough, into which his ignorance had plunged him.
He looked at him with an air of triumph.

" You have found out my meaning at last, I see ;
which, I think, was pretty plain from the beginning.
However, as the subject seems a tender one, we shall
drop it, if you please. You had a very pleasant par-
ty at Thorndale's yesterday, Mr. Oglandby?"

" Yes : and a very pleasant drive home," he' an-
swered gruffly.

"Come, come, Sir, you must not let your mind
dwell upon such a gloomy topic. You will find, on
investigation, that it was a mere drunken frolic, or
something of that kind ; for I pledge my word, that
the country never was so quiet as at this time, and it
is likely to continue so."

" I thought you were apprehensive of serious dis-
turbances, on account of the tithe system ?" said Mr.
Ford, agent to Lord Farnmere.

" I hope I may be a false prophet," answered Hec-
tor, pompously. " I should be sorry to hurt the fee-
lings of any one present, but I cannot help saying,
that I do not wonder at any desperate act being per-
petrated by the lower orders, while writhing under
such an iniquitous burden."

" Then plague on them," cried Mr. Oglandby, in a
passion, " why do they not wreak their vengeance on
the guilty? Why shoot me, when Harry Milward
is the delinquent ? Nay, why not give precedence to
Mr. Hector Fitzcarrol himself, who rents the recto-
rial tithes of seven parishes from my Lord Farnmere?
And a very pretty income he has by them."

" Capital !" roared Hector, bursting into a horse

IRISHWOMEN. Ill

laugh. " That is the best hit you have made these
seven years ; and I confess you have turned the ta-
bles on me completely. So I knock under as to tithes.
But, joking apart — to prove to you what is the gene-
ral opinion of the state of the country, my wife and
daughters have teazed me into giving a ball this day
se'nnight. They were busy writing the invitations
when I left home ; and I venture my life, that, let the
croakers say what they may, we shall not get a sin-
gle excuse on the plea of danger. By the bye, Par-
son/' addressing Mr. Milward, " I hope you will not
be so strait-laced as to hinder your daughter from
joining the other young people in an innocent dance ?
Heh! am I to suppose that silence gives con-
sent ?"

" No/' said Mr. Milward ; " though very much
obliged for the invitation."

" Is there any truth in the story which my steward
told me this morning, of a very narrow escape which
Miss Milward had, last night, of being murdered by a
maniac ?" inquired Mr. Ford.

" Harry, come over here," said Mr. Oglandby,
" and speak loud enough for me to hear you. I want
to know what you did with the fellow who so cleverly
saved Dora from being taken for an owl by Mr. Fitz-
carrol's frolicsome Methodists ?"

Mr. Conolly Fitzcarrol lounged to a window at the
farthest end of the room.

" I pity my poor father," said he to Mr. Myars,
who was the only person in company, apparently in-
clined to converse with him — ' ' to be bored for ever
in this way. No public business can be transacted
without him— unfortunately it is the tax must be paid

IRISHMEN AND

for a certain rank in society, though I fear I shall ne-
ver be able to submit to it, when obliged to take his
place. At present, thank my stars, I am nobody, and
I mean to enjoy my nonentity as long as 1 can.
Were you of the party at Charlesborough, yester-
day?"

"No; Sir Ralph Thorndale has never visited me."

" That is very strange, indeed ! My father makes
it a point to visit every clergyman within twelve
miles, which he looks upon as his range. You had a
very great loss in not meeting Lord Farnmere, who is
one of the nicest persons I ever saw."

" I should have been glad to have an opportunity of
speaking to him, about establishing one or two schools
on his property," said Mr. Myars. (( Do you think it
likely that he will give encouragement to such appli-
cations ?"

" Our conversations have turned upon such very
different topics, that it is impossible for me to form
an opinion. He speaks very little, at least in the
mixed society at Charlesborough, though extremely
agreeable in a tete-a-tete. Judging from what I have
seen, I should say that he would be entirely influ-
enced by the example of those persons who take the
lead, and give the tone to good society."

" And may I ask you, as you seem to understand
these things, whether it be the fashion at present,
among those people to whom you allude, to inter-
est themselves in the education of their poor ten-
antry ?'

" I am afraid to speak very decidedly on that head,
lest I should innocently lead you astray. Perhaps I
am rather inclined to think that any thing connected

IRISHWOMEN. 113

with that species of religion, which was the fashion
for some years in this neighbourhood, is not very
likely to meet with encouragement in a certain quar-
ter. Let it go no farther, for I tell you this in strict
confidence, that Lady Thorndale always orders the
Bibles to be removed from the bed-rooms and dress-
ing-rooms, when visitors of a certain rank are ex-
pected."

" That is what I call shameful trimming, if not
abominable hypocrisy," said Mr. Myars.

tt What can we do ?" asked his informer, patheti-
cally. " If we live in the world, we cannot run coun-
ter to those who compose it, in the strict sense of the
word. But remember, I am not speaking ex cathedra,
not having been in town for upwards of two years ;
and consequently depending for information upon se-
cond-hand authorities, sometimes contradictory, and
never satisfactory. I assure you there are times when
I feel quite annoyed at the state of indecision in which
one is forced to live. Now, to give you one instance
out of a hundred, I have been puzzled to a degree,
absolutely distressing, for a very long time, about the
pronunciation of the name of the poet who wrote
" the Task/' and other religious poems. You know
who I mean. Lady Thorndale pronounces it as if
compounded of the animal Cow and per ; and Mrs.
Falconer, and that set, pronounce it as if written Coo.
I confess I do not know which to follow. The Thorn-
dales, between ourselves, are nobodies in town ; and
Mrs. Falconer, besides being a religious character,
never goes beyond Bath, which is completely second-
hand. So you can form some idea of the difficulties
under which we labour, in this remote place. Indeed

114 IRISHMEN AND

I am so alive to them that I never mention the name,
or allude to the poems by the slightest hint."

fe I wonder you give yourself any uneasiness about
such nonsense/' said Mr. Myars. "If you pay so
unbounded deference to the opinion of the world,
why not chime in with all parties, and let him be
CWper or Cooper, according to the fancy of the
speaker?"

At this somewhat rude speech, Conolly was roused
to a sense of the folly he had been unwittingly guilty
of, in committing himself so indiscreetly. He had in-
tended confessing himself into a first-rate man of
fashion, whereas, in the innocency of his heart, he had
acknowledged that he was little more than an ama-
teur. He had, however, this consolation, that his au-
ditor, though a very good man, was a very dull one,
and would probably forget his unlucky exposure of
himself. Still, his situation was not particularly corr-
fortable, as the stood together in the window ; and
he hailed with joy the appearance of a carriage com-
ing up the avenue, from which, in a few minutes,
stepped Sir Ralph Thorndale, and, if not the wonder-
working, at least, the wonder-raising, Lord Viscount
Farnmere.

Mr. Oglandby was now as happy as notoriety
could make him. He was the undoubted object of
general interest ; and he felt so good-humoured, and
so self-satisfied, as to give very few indications of
contempt or impatience, while Mr. Fitzcarrol still
kept the lead in conversation, and spoke more loudly
and dictatorially than before the arrival of the titled
personages.

" Now, Thorndale," said he, " after that you have

IRISHWOMEN. 115

heard all the pros and cons, what do you think we
should do ? We ought to stir a little. Don't you think
so?"

" The moment I heard of this very dreadful out-
rage/' said Sir Ralph, " I wrote to Lord Colverston,
to consult with him on the propriety of calling on the
High Sheriff to convene a meeting of the magistrates
and landed proprietors. I have not yet got his an-
swer, and I shall act very much according to his sug-
gestions."

"Oh I a meeting, to be sure; and I suppose a
handsome reward offered for information. I only hope
that we shall be unanimous, and that nobody will en-
deavour to run away with the business, and represent
the country as in a state of insurrection. I candidly
confess that the circumstance has a very ugly look ;
but I have little doubt that it will be proved either
to have been accident, or an attempt at highway rob-
bery— a species of outrage from which no country is
exempt at all times." Then turning to Lord Farn-
mere, who had retreated to the window, lately occu-
pied by the young gentlemen, he continued — " We
must not let your Lordship be driven from us by a
bug-a-boo story of this kind. We are not half so bad
as some people would make us. I wish you would
give us a little more of your company, and you would
find that the more you knew of us, the more you
would like us."

A slight motion of his lordship's lips and eye-lids
was the only notice vouchsafed to Hector's address,
and Mr. Oglandby gladly took advantage of the mo-
mentary pause, occasioned by this pantomimic mode
of reply, to gain some attention to himself.

116 IRISHMEN AND

" Ralph," he began, with solemnity, "when the
representative of my family, and most of my old
friends, left the country, I still remained in it, con-
ceiving it my duty to live upon my property, though
you are aware that I had many inducements to make
me follow their example. I had hoped to have passed
the remainder of my days among you, but the occur-
rence of last night puts that out of the question. I
am forced to become an absentee. So, though it may
be necessary for the public good, that you should ex-
ert yourself to preserve the peace of the county, yet,
so far as I am concerned individually, you need not
take much trouble. 1 shall write by this night's post
to my son, to meet me next week in Bath, where I
think of settling for the remainder of my life."

" I entreat you, my dear Sir," said Ralph, " to con-
sider the matter very seriously, before you take so
decided a step. To change your habits so entirely,
at your time of life, might be attended with the worst
consequences to your health, besides the loss you
would be to your friends, and the country at large."

"Upon my honour, Mr. Oglandby," said Willy
Geraghty, half crying, " it is nothing short of a sin,
to hear you talk in that way. What would you go
away for ? Just to let us all be trampled on, and
give a crow to them that would be glad to get rid of
all the old stock, that they might hold their heads
high, and tell the people there is nobody like them-
selves."

" I had certainly hoped," said Mr. Oglandby, in the
same strain, " to have died among you, as I lived
among you."

(e So you will," cried Hector, " in spite of this little

IRISHWOMEN. 117

brush. And instead of going to England to your son,
send him an order to come home and protect you, as
he ought to do, if you apprehend danger to your per-
son."

"Where was Arthur when you last heard from
him ?" asked the baronet quickly, anxious to draw
off his attention from Hector, whose vulgar famili-
arity was fast exhausting his patience.

" He was on the wing from Paris," replied the old
gentleman'; " but somebody told me at your house
yesterday, (I suppose it was my Lord Farnmere,)
that he had seen him in London a few days ago. My
Lord, did you not tell me that you had lately met my
son, General Oglandby, in London ?"

Lord Farnmere looked bewildered, and, on this oc-
casion, only moved his eye-brows.

(C I say/' he repeated, in a louder tone, ef did not
your Lordship say you had met my son, some short
time since, in London ?"

" Wat does he mean ?" inquired the Viscount, from
Conolly Fitzcarrol, who occupied a chair near him.

" I believe he asks you, my Lord, if you have not
lately met General Oglandby in London."

" 1 have some vague recollection," lisped his Lord-
ship, apparently addressing himself to the fire-place,
" of having, somewhere, heard the name, but I have
not the honour of being personally"

The remainder of the speech died away in indis-
tinct murmurs, as he quietly relapsed into his usual
sleepy attitude.

Sir Ralph, who knew that Lord Farnmere would
receive no more quarter than Hector himself, if the

118 IRISHMEN AND

old gentleman's wrath once broke bounds, again in-
terposed—

(( It was Maitland, Sir, who mentioned having seen
Arthur. They are old acquaintances, having served
together in the Peninsula. But, my dear Sir, I ear-
nestly request you to wait the result of an investiga-
tion, before you resolve upon a measure which would
be seriously deplored by your friends."

Mr. Oglandby persisted for some time in his plan
of expatriation ; but at length, overcome by the soli-
citations of all present, particularly Willy Geraghty,
who threatened to sell all and follow him to Bath, he
promised to do nothing in a hurry, but to be guided
by the discoveries likely to be made, on the projected
inquiry.

In the mean time, Conolly Fitzcarrol, who was en-
couraged by the application to him on the dis-
puted point of General Oglandby, resolved not to
lose an opportunity of establishing an acquaintance,
which might, hereafter, be advantageous to him. It
certainly required some nerve to commence ope-
rations, but he screwed his courage to the stick-
ing-place, and after one or two minor coughs, thus
began : —

" What a very narrow escape Miss Milward had
last night ! From the direction which some of the
balls took, she must have been inevitably shot, had
she been in the carriage at the time."

" Were you speaking to me?" asked the fine man,
with petrifying civility.

" I was alluding to the very fortunate escape of
Miss Milward," said Conolly, somewhat out of coun-
tenance.

IRISHWOMEN. 119

<c Wat is she ?" again asked the Viscount, with
something of the manner in which a good-natured
person addresses a child, who is interested about
some babyish distress of its own.

Poor Conolly felt the awkwardness of his situation,
without knowing how to extricate himself from it.
He was, therefore, constrained to confess that the
lady in question was nothing more than an Irish
clergyman's daughter — a species of being, which it
was evident Lord Farnmere did not know how to
class under any head that could ever possibly come
within the range of his consideration. There was,
however, one redeeming circumstance, which might
in some degree, excuse the interest he had unfortu-
nately expressed in her fate, and he gained a little
confidence, as he brought it forward.

" She is an uncommonly fine girl. Indeed, I may
say uncommonly so. The Duke of Beaudesert, who
saw her one morning at Traffield House, could
speak of nothing else the whole day. He repeat-
edly said to me, that she was the loveliest woman
he had ever seen. I am sure I am repeating his
words literally."

But even the literal rehearsal of his Grace of Beau-
desert's opinion, failed to produce any effect. Lord
Farnmere still looked as if his language was totally
unintelligible ; and Conolly, abashed and mortified,
was wishing himself at the other end of the room, if
his retreat could be managed at all creditably to
himself, when he was most unexpectedly extricated
from his embarrassment by the approach of Willy
Geraghty, who, making a very tolerable bow, took

120 IRISHMEN AND

possession of the seat vacated by Conolly, and bend-
ing forward, began without further preface —

" I have the pleasure of introducing myself to your
Lordship. My name is Geraghty. I live only a few
fields off. Sir Ralph might have showed you the
house, as you drove along the road. It's but a poor
place enough, with a little bit of land that keeps a
horse and a couple of cows : but I once had a pretty
estate of my own, only my grandfather sold it,
before I was born, to them Fitzcarrols, for a trifle, as
all the world can tell your Lordship, as well as myself."

Lord Farnmere's usually half-shut eyes opened, as
it were involuntarily, into a broad stare ; and, for the
first time since his arrival in Ireland, he seemed tho-
roughly awake.

se Sir Ralph," continued Willy, without waiting for
an answer, " was saying this minute, that you were
fond of shooting, and as nobody knows where the
best sport is to be had, better than myself, I would
be a great acquisition to you ; and I will give you
my company, with all the pleasure in life, any day
you want me."

Still his Lordship continued staring, but showed no
other symptom of having the full possession of his
faculties.

" Maybe he's deaf," thought Willy to himself, and
bending forward, he pitched his voice to a louder
key: —

" I was well acquainted with your Lordship's uncle,
Sir Fenton Leatherbrace. He often dined at our
mess, and was most partial to me of all the officers,
knowing me to be a good shot. Many's the pleasant
day we had together. And now that I see your

IRISHWOMEN. 121

Lordship close, upon my honour, 1 can remark a strong
family likeness between you, only you an't near so
gross : but that will come naturally, when you are
his years ; and it is always an improvement, in my
mind, when there isn't too much of it. Every thing
in reason is my motto."

The assault became now really serious. The bar-
riers behind which Lord Farnmere had entrenched
himself, and which were, in general, sufficient to keep
off a common enemy, were no protection against the
inroad of the barbarian, who had so unexpectedly
fixed himself in his neighbourhood. In this extremi-
ty, he again looked for succour to the convenient
friend, who had come to his assistance on a former
occasion ; but Conolly had taken his stand behind
Mr. Oglandby's chair, and was practising his own
sickly smile, and vacant look, while the mysterious
conduct of Lanty M'Grail was under consideration.
He was, therefore, as a last resource, driven to his
tooth-pick — a weapon, either offensive or defensive,
as it is managed : and having once more closed his
eyes, and opened his mouth, he lolled back in his
chair, and began using the little instrument most in-
dustriously.

Willy took the hint.

" My Lord/' said he, rising, " I see that your
Lordship is not inclined for conversation ; or maybe
you have taken offence at something I have said;
though, upon my honour, I had no reason for intro-
ducing myself to your Lordship, but just to offer my
civilities to a stranger, as is the custom between gen-
tlemen in Ireland, However, my Lord, there is no
accounting for fancies. One man's meat is another
G

122 IRISHMEN AND

man's poison ; and, my Lord, if it pleases your Lord-
ship to take in bad part any thing I have said, I am,
my Lord, willing to give your Lordship satisfaction
on the spot."

Willy's red face blushed into positive scarlet, while
he spoke; and Lord Farnmere, who, though not over-
burdened with sense, had sufficient to know, that little
credit could accrue to him from an affair of honour
with such an antagonist, quickly pocketed his tooth-
pick, and muttered, in a hurry, two or three short
sentences, in which the words " obliged," and " re-
spectable gentleman," and " not at all offended,"
were very distinctly pronounced.

Willy, who was easily appeased, begged that his
Lordship would say no more about it, as it was all a
mistake ; and was going to propose shaking hands, in
token of friendship, when luckily Sir Ralph Thorn-
dale called for his carriage, and came to the rescue of
his noble guest.

<c I am now at your service, Lord Farnmere," said
he, coming forward. " We have agreed to hold our
meeting as early as possible, that we may have the
benefit of your co-operation. It is rather fortunate,
since this unpleasant affair has occurred, that you
should be here at the time: and, no doubt, you
will take an early opportunity of calling the attention
of Parliament to the disturbed state of this coun-
try."

That the excitement caused by Willy's civilities
had not yet subsided, is the only way we have of
accounting for the great degree of animation with
which Lord Farnmere now moved and spoke.

" I seldom speak in the house," said he, " and ne-

IRISHWOMEN. 123

ver on matters connected with Ireland, they are so
endless and unintelligible. While the question of
emancipation was being agitated,, we always voted
for it, to get rid of it as soon as possible : and after
the relief bill passed, we hoped to hear no more of
Ireland, but that you would settle your own affairs
among yourselves. You must, therefore excuse me,
if I cannot interfere in your affairs. In fact I always
leave the house, when the subject is being brought
forward, unless particularly requested to stay and
vote."

" Ah ! Parson dear/' said Willy, when the great folk
had taken leave, " is it any wonder that poor Ireland
is down, if we are left to the mercy of skips like that
poor creature ? Now, do you think it would be a sin
for a man to refuse obeying the laws made by such
as he, who confesses that he don't understand any
thing about us ?"

" The duty of a Christian/' answered Mr. Mil-
ward, " is to obey the laws of his country, whatever
they may be, or by whomsoever made, provided they
do not interfere with his duty to God."

" Oh ! I knew I was wrong, though I asked the
question. And don't think I want to do any thing
out of the way ; for it is only when taken by sur-
prise, as I was a minute or two ago, (more shame for
me,) that I give way to bad thoughts and bad pas-
sions. Upon my honour, parson, you may believe me, I
have a guard over myself more than you give me
credit for. But is it not enough to vex a man out-
right, to be snuffed at by one, who is more like a
mummer, or a stick dressed up in baby-rags, than a
peer of the realm ? Ah ! did you see his rings, and
G 2

124 IRISHMEN AND

his pins, and all the band-box flummery he had about
him ?"

"I will tell you what I did not see/' said Mr.
Mil ward : " I did not see you at church last Sun-
day."

" And who was to blame for that, parson, but the
gossoon yourself advised me to take, because nobody
else would be bothered with so clumsy a brute ? I
gave him my boots to clean in the morning, and he
must let the young dog run away with the right foot,
and after hunting for it for two hours, it was found
in the cow-house, in a fine condition, as you may see
by the patch on the toe, where the unlucky cur gnaw-
ed it."

" Willy," said Mr. Oglandby, who had just bowed
out the last of his visitors, <e you must stay dinner.
Your own bed is, as usual, ready for you. Harry,
there is no use in asking you, so I advise you to go
home while you have day-light ; for though the great
Hector blusters about the peaceable inclinations of
our neighbours, that hat, and that coat, and that
chaise, tell a very different story. Good bye, Harry.
Send Dora to see me to-morrow, and in the mean time
give her my love."

IRISHWOMEN. 125

CHAPTER IX.

AFTER Lanty's freak, Miss Milward's walks, which
sometimes extended to a mile from the house, were
in family conclave, circumscribed within the narrow
limits of the glebe. At any other time, this would
have been looked upon as a melancholy privation by
the young lady, who enjoyed a scamper through the
fields, pretty nearly as much as her attendant, Figa-
ro: but the events of the memorable Wednesday
evening had so far diminished her confidence in her
numerous friends, (and every person within her range
was heretofore accounted a friend,) that on the fol-
lowing Saturday, when the day was as favourable for
a long walk, as a hard frost and clear sky could make
it, she unrepiningly paced the monotonous round of a
very small shrubbery, without feeling any wish to have
her bounds enlarged. Still, like every duty- walk, no
matter whether pursued in a straight or circular line,
it was sufficiently tiresome to wish it well over ; and
Dora, who had just counted her eighth round, was
congratulating herself that four more would lay in a
stock of fresh air sufficient for the day, when a vio-
lent rustling among the bushes near her, caused a
slight sensation of nervousness, as she looked in the
direction from which the noise proceeded. It con-
tinued for some seconds, without any apparent cause,
till at length the red head of Lanty M'Grail appear-
ed, thrust through a mass of lauristinus — his large,

IRISHMEN AND

lack-lustre eyes, staring wide, while, in a tone of
voice entirely confidential, he called out in a very
loud whisper —

"Will I be hung for the sousin' I gave you, Miss
Dora, do you think ?"

She stopped short, undecided whether to scream for
help, run away, or manfully face the enemy. There
was altogether an odd medley in her feelings, at the
moment, of fear and confidence, of anger and kind-
liness. She felt a strong inclination to scold, a stronger
still to laugh, and at the same time, a sensation bor-
dering upon awe, being convinced that, in some way
or other, the urchin before her was connected with a
band of murderers. She, however, repressed any
outward emotion, and assuming a cold and dignified
air, said —

ee I am surprised, Mr. Lanty, that you could ever
venture to speak to me, after your very improper con-
duct I"

ec I knew it wouldn't hurt you, Miss Dora. I often
had mud sticking all over me, for ever so long ; and
sorrah a bit of hurt it done me; let alone how it
comes off asy, with the laste taste of water/'

<f That is no excuse, Sir : I was always kind to
you ; and I thought you would be the last person in
the world to treat me with disrespect."

" It was the clanest mud I could get, Miss Dora,
I wouldn't take it out of the dirty strame where the
horses drinks, so 1 fished it out of the ditch, where my
grandmother gathers the water-grass for the mis-
tress— and sure, sign's on it, you haven't a speck
about you now, and that shows how clane it was."

" Nonsense, boy ! It is very little matter to me,

IRISHWOMEN. 127

whether it was clean or dirty. You knew that it was
a most horrible thing to do, and you knew how I
hated every thing of the kind."

" What could I do, Miss Dora? Wasn't I schaming
in my own mind, ever since Monday morning how
I could do it in the most plasing way to your-
self?"

" Why, boy, I believe you are a complete fool ! —
How could any such thing be pleasing to me ? An-
swer me this plain, simple question, at once — why
did you do it at all ?"

' ' Ah ! sure, wasn't it to keep them from shooting
you, Miss Dora? And an't you better plased to be
alive in your own scrubbery, nor to be dead out of the
world, or with a ball in your left shoulder, like Will
Tr avers ?"

" Then you knew of the intended attack upon my
uncle ?"

"I knew nothing about any thing, Miss Dora.
But, sure yourself knows that the coach was shot,
and Will Travers was shot ; and what was to hinder
yourself of being shot, if you was in it ? And now,
Miss, will you bear malice again me, ever, if I done
my endavour to keep you alive ?"

" I bear you no malice, Lanty ; but I am afraid
that you are a very bad boy, and I cannot have con-
fidence in you again. If you had such a regard for
me as you pretend, why did you not tell me the
whole truth honestly, that I might have put my un-
cle on his guard ?"

" I couldn't know what to tell, Miss Dora. I only
hard a whimper that if you went into the coaeh, you
would never come out of it alive, so I done my best

128 IRISHMEN AND

to stop you. All sorts is again me, now, Miss Do-
ra/' he added, mournfully. " I darn't go near my
grandmother since that, and I'm afeard . of my life
for any of the neighbours to see me; and if you
don't make up with me, what'll I do at-all, at-all,
Miss?"

tc I may make up with you again," said she, endea-
vouring to preserve her cold manner, which was ra-
pidly thawing, as he appealed to her kindness, " but
it is on condition that you tell me how you became
acquainted with the plan for murdering Mr. Ogland-
by."

" You often bid me not tell lies, Miss ; and now,
you want me. Every Sunday you give me no pace,
abusing the life out of me, if I say one word that
displases you ; and if I was to tell a lie now, may be
you'd be outrageous, and you putting me up to it ;
and why would I tell any thing, Miss, that I promis-
ed not ?"

Dora was silent, and Lanty continued in a more
melancholy strain —

" The Poliss is looking after me to hang me, and I
wouldn't like to be hung, Miss Dora, it's so trying
to a body. I'm crawling about under the ditches all
day long ; and I've no place to sleep in at nights, only
with Mr Costigan's big dog, when the house is shut
up. I wouldn't mind it a straw, if it was summer,
but I'm fairly famished and perished with hardship
and unasiriess."

" My poor fellow !" cried Dora, forgetting all her
wrongs at the recital of his distress. Cf Why do you
not go home at once to your grandmother ? They
shall never hang you, Lanty — nobody could do that

IRISHWOMEN. 129

but me, and I will never, never say one word to in-
jure you/'

• " My grandmother is mad., Miss, for 'fraid I'd turn
informer : she's worse upon me nor all put together.
Then the boys will murder me, that's sure, if they
knew I was in it, and the other neighbours, every one
of them threatens to leave me for dead, for the splash-
ing I gave you. Would you think it, Miss^ but Ileen
Garvey, that was ever friendly to me, she goes about
with the smoothing-iron in her pocket, to brain me if
she ever sets her two eyes on me."

" Come home this minute with me, Lanty, and you
shall have a bed under the kitchen stairs; and nobody
shall attempt to injure you while you are under my
father's protection."

"Oh! sorrah foot will I go, Miss Dora, where
Mrs. Burrowes could give me a glaum — she'd do it,
Miss, if the master and mistress, and yourself, was to
intercede forme, on your bare knees. It's no matter
about a bed ; for Lion has a beautiful house of his
own, with plenty of warm straw, and he likes to have
me with him, seeing he's lonely at night. Lion knows
me well, Miss Dora, and so does all the dogs in the
country. I dont say," he added very sheepishly,
and turning away his head, " that if you had a could
praty or two about you, that maybe I'd be glad to
get them."

" Oh ! Lanty, my poor boy f" exclaimed Dora,
quite overcome, "is it possible that you have eaten
nothing to-day?"

" Them ravenish pigs at Mr. Costigan's, Miss, gab-
bles up every thing is thrun them, when they gets
more than ought to satisfy them twist over, if they

G 3

130 IRISHMEN AND

had any discretion ; and they are so dirty brutes, that
they spoil the little lavings they have. You wouldn't
bleeve, Miss Dora, what a well-natured dog Lion is.
He hid a bone, with a good dale on it, under the
straw, for me, last night, never thinking, the poor
thing, that it was Friday; so I was fain to throw it
away unknownst, not caring to vex him/'

" Stay where you are, Lanty. I shall not be five
minutes absent. I am going to get you some bread
and cold meat. Do not be afraid, my poor boy, that
I could ever betray you," seeing that he showed
symptoms of uneasiness. " I will never tell that I
have seen you, till you give me permission ; and you
must meet me here every morning, so long as you are
afraid to go home."

"Stop a minute, Miss Dora; don't mind throu-
bling the mate. Saturday is all as one as Friday ;
and I wouldn't ate it if I was starving alive. Stop
again, Miss ; they may be flattering you, to get all
out of you about me, and you know you won't tell
lies ; so hould your tongue when they question you,
and then what can they know ? That's the way I
often put yourself to an amplush, when you was bit-
ter hard to find out a thing, and that I was loath to
tell a lie, seeing how you hated it. Oh ! look at
her !" he cried, in a voice of alarm, and again disap-
peared in the thicket of ever- greens. "

The object of such consternation was Mrs. Falco-
ner, who was just commencing her constitutional
walk.

tf Lie quiet," whispered Dora, scarcely less fright-
ened than himself. tf Do not stir till I call you, when
you may be sure the coast is clear ;" and then run-

IRISHWOMEN. 131

ning in the opposite direction to that which her aunt
was taking, was out of sight in a moment.

Mrs. Falconer, unconscious of her near neighbour-
hood to the outlawed Lanty, who, in his best days,
was no favourite with her, quietly passed his hiding-
place ; and instead of continuing her walk round the
shrubbery, crossed into a path, which ended with a
stile leading to the high road. Her annual visit to
the glebe was drawing to a close, and she took ad-
vantage of the fine day to call at the houses of some
poor people, who, from being the objects of her ca-
sual charity, had insensibly grown into regular pen-
sioners. Mrs. Falconer was one of those religious
characters who do more harm than good with the
best intentions, or we should rather say, inclinations.
She was always in extremes — always arguing — always
splitting hairs, and striving about words to no profit.
With her, a matter of taste immediately became a
matter of conscience, and she could never cordially
give the right hand of fellowship to any person whose
conscience could not be squeezed into the mould
adapted to her own. The Established Church she
had long denounced as Babylon, and every Dissenting
congregation, of which she had become a member in
regular rotation, had the same mysterious term ap-
plied to them, on leaving their communion ; till, at
length, she fixed among the Separatists, with whom
she had quietly rested for some years. Latterly,
however, it would appear that she meditated a
step or two backwards ; for she did not outrageously
profane " the Lord's-day," had more than hinted at a
recognition of her sister's claim to Christianity, and
expressed to Mr. Milward a strong anxiety as to the

132 IKISHMEN AND

state of her old uncle Oglandby. But, to nip in the
bud any hopes which these concessions might give
rise to, she was warm as ever in her opposition to
Sunday schools, and all religious societies ; and
when Dora was not present, advocated the cause of
the theatre, cards, and other amusements, which had
long since been given up by the Mil wards. Still,
there was an insensible approximation to many of
their sentiments, and a gradual softening of asperity
of manner and expression upon subjects connected
with religion, which made her society far less un-
pleasant to her family than it had been in times past ;
and the attachment between her and Mrs. Mil ward,
which had certainly suffered much diminution during
the time of her highest flights, was rapidly recover-
ing its lost ground in both their affections.

But to return to our narrative. Dora watched her
aunt's route with feverish impatience, till she was
fairly out of reach of hearing and seeing ; and then
hastily dismissing Lanty, laden with provisions for
the next twenty-four hours, with orders to be on the
watch for her in the same place every morning, re-
sumed her perambulation — having deducted one
round in consideration of the extra race to and from
the pantry.

In the mean time, Mrs. Falconer had nearly reach-
ed the stile, when the clamour of three or four tongues
in loud altercation, arrested her progress ; and she
stopped behind the hedge until the angry disputants
should pass by.

" Well, gentlemen," said Johnny Monroe, " I see
I can do no good ; so as I am a trifle tired, I will sit
down a bit here, and you need not stop for me. But,

IRISHWOMEN. 133

Captain, it would be a christianable turn if you did
not quit them till you settle between them ; for isn't
it a shame for two, Protestants to be fighting and
squabbling about what might be no variance at all,
if they were only agreeable in their own minds/'

" I am willing to leave it to Captain Geraghty, or
any other gentleman in the parish, and so I offered a
hundred times over/' said one of the combatants ;
" only that man is so contrary, that nothing will sa-
tisfy him, but having his own way in every thing."

" I offered the same/' cried the other ; " and it's
you won't give in to reason as long as there is a
straw in the world to dispute about."

ec Captain/' said the first speaker, ec to show you
who is the disturber, ask him if I didn't say con-
tent, when he offered to leave it to a toss-up ; and he
turned on his heel, and cried, no bargain."

"It's as big a lie as ever came out of any man's
mouth," exclaimed the accused, " that I ever offered
to toss-up. I leave them doings to ball-players and
gamblers, and such like. I offered to draw lots —
that's what I did ; and it was you drew back, and not
me."

This plump contradiction roused all the remaining
wrath of the tosser-up, which was vented in the
counter accusation of lying, and doubly and trebly
lying ; besides the additional charges of being a
swaddler, and a class-leader, and a hypocrite, and a
rogue; while the diviner by lots was not a whit be-
hind, but repaid every opprobrious epithet with in-
terest ; and not content with simply abusing his an-
tagonist, reviled his father and brother, and sundry
relatives, living and dead.

134 IRISHMEN AND

" Shame, shame !" cried Monroe, when he could
obtain a hearing. " Shame upon two Protestant men
with Bibles in their houses — and double shame upon
you, George Carothers, with all the good talk you
have by times. I hope you'll humble yourself, and
just try what is in your heart, before you meet your
class to-morrow morning, and run off your tongue,
what I am afraid never goes an inch deeper. Cap-
tain Geraghty, for the sake of decency, don't let them
disparage themselves for the lucre of such a trifle.
Make George show you the bit of bog-oak, and then
bid them be ashamed of themselves."

" Upon my honour, you speak like a man of sense
and discretion, and religion, too," said Willy. " To
be sure, having been in the army is greatly in a man's
favour, every way. Come along, you two, and don't
let me hear a word from either of you, but what is
proper for a gentleman to listen to. Come along, I
say. Upon my honour, you ought to be ashamed of
yourselves, and I wonder I did not see that before."

IRISHWOMEN. 135

CHAPTER X.

MBS. Falconer waited till Willy had carried off his
noisy companions, and then joined Monroe on the
road, requesting him to accompany her in her excur-
sion over the bog ; as, like Dora, she began to have
an indistinct fear of the people, which every appear-
ance of disturbance served to increase. She was,
also, glad to have an opportunity of conversing alone
with Monroe, whose conversion to her own way of
thinking, she had long at heart : and though hitherto
unsuccessful, had never quite despaired of ultimate
success. He was one of those very few persons for
whom she entertained an involuntary respect, even in
her most fantastic moods. She could never find it in
her heart to unchristknize him entirely, and when
driven to the utmost bound of forbearance, generally
contented herself by calling him an anomaly — a word
which sounded very harshly in his ears, but the mean-
ing of which he was determined never to inquire, lest,
if it was as bad as he suspected, he might be tempted
to indulge uncharitable feelings, and perhaps think of
a name for her, with as bad a signification.

" There still continues to be a good deal of reli-
gious profession, I see," began the lady, "in this
parish ; and I suppose you are very happy when you
see an instance of such tenderness of conscience, as
was evidenced by that man, in his horror of tossing
up to decide a disputed point ?"

136 IRISHMEN AND

" A tender conscience, Ma'am, I believe to be a
good thing, so far as it goes ; for I have read but an
indifferent character of one that is seared with a hot
iron, to take all the feeling out of it."

" Then you approve of the religion of your scrupu-
lous friend?"

" I seldom like, Ma'am, to draw down one man or
another for a pattern to find fault to. But afraid
you might lie under a mistake, I will tell you at once.,
that I do not approve of the religion of George Caro-
thers, either by what he says, or what he does."

" Yet, are not such the persons of whom Mr. Mil-
ward speaks in terms of high approbation ?"

" Why, Ma'am, I can't tell what the gentleman
may say in his good nature — only if he does — why —
he returns good for evil — that's all. But there is a
little mistake in your mind, Ma'am, about the peo-
ple. Mr. Milward has a good right to think well and
speak well of some of his flock, for they give heed to
his teaching ; and if he thinks himself right, sure, he
must think them right, that takes his instruction.
But George Carothers, and such as he, never listen
but to find fault, and to call him an advocate for
sin, because he won't compliment poor creatures like
us, by telling us how good we are, or how good we
may be ; and what I can't understand is, that they
go to church at all, when they speak worse of it, and
of its ministers, than the Romans themselves."

"I cannot quarrel with them on that account/'
said Mrs. Falconer, " as my sentiments, so far, per-
fectly accord with theirs."

" So you often gave me to understand, Ma'am."

" And I cannot comprehend,," she continued, " how

IRISHWOMEN. 137

you, who sometimes speak rather in a

sensible way on those subjects,, and who have, more
than once, acknowledged that there are imperfections
in the Establishment, can still continue a member of
a church, which, by your own confession, is nothing
less than Babylon/'

" With submission to you, Ma'am, you take me up
too short. I remember giving in to some of your ob-
jections more than I afterwards saw was right, when
I considered the matter according to the sense of the
thing, and not only by its words. However, I don't
go back of some things I said. You accused us of
having Popery among us ; and I said, and still say,
that there is more of it with us, than is pleasing to
me ; and if I could find a church where there was
nothing, I would change — and where the spirit of Po-
pery was not just as plain, if not plainer, I would
join myself to it joyfully, and think it a sin to stop in
any other."

ff Excuse me, Mr. Monroe, if I say there appears
to me to be a little hypocrisy in what you say. If
you were in earnest, you could not be content to re-
main a member of a religious body — I cannot call it
the church, or a church — in which God is worshipped
not after a scriptural rule, but according to the tra-
ditions and commandments of men."

ff Bad enough, Ma'am, if what you say be true ! —
but what am I to do ? Would you have me turn In-
dependent or Baptist ?"

fc Oh ! no, no : neither one or other," she replied,
in high good humour. tf You may as well stay where
you are ; for human inventions and traditions have as
prominent a place among them, without the excuse

138 IRISHMEN AND

of antiquity, and obedience to authority, and the like
untempered mortar, with which you try to hide the
cracks and flaws in your tottering edifice."

" Arid what is to become of me, Ma'am ? You
don't think well of me staying with the Church-of-
England people, nor of joining others that I look upon
as Christians, though I may think they have a little
leaning to Popery by times ; and you won't let me in
among yourselves — so, an't I in a fine way under your
directions ?"

1 ' The Church" said Mrs. Falconer, gravely, " ne-
ver objects to receive a member, on his making a
scriptural profession of faith, and never separates
from his communion, while he continues to walk or-
derly."

" All fair, Ma'am — but still you have no place for
me, let my profession be ever so scriptural, or my
walk ever so orderly ; for, at the best, I could only
be a weak brother, and you have no provision for
such."

" I do not understand you, Mr. Monroe."

"Well, Ma'am — just to mention one thing — if I
did'nt misunderstand you, when you first opened your
mind to me, about seven years ago, I believe you
said, that you would not receive me unless I ac-
knowledged that salutation by kissing, in your assem-
blies, was an ordinance that could not be passed over,
without direct disobedience to an apostolic command.
I could not see it in that light. I thought it over and
over again, and I am as far from viewing it in that
way as ever. If it was not made an article of faith,
(as I may call it,) I might give in to it for the sake
of peace: I might look upon it as a matter of no con-

IRISHWOMEN. 139

sequence whatever, whether it was done or undone ;
just as I stand, or kneel, or sit, according as others
do, in my own place of worship, without ever think-
ing that those changes of posture have any thing to
do with belief in Christ. I might be a little dashed
at first, thinking it useless and child-like ; but I would
not dispute about it. But if you would make me
say, that I looked upon it as binding on my conscience,
it would be forcing me to tell a lie to God, and I
could not bring my mind to that."

<( You need not be afraid of being pressed against
your own conviction, Mr. Monroe. We are not so
anxious to make proselytes — we leave that to the Pha-
risees of all times, and all religions. But will you
favour me with your comment on that text, ' Greet
all the brethren with an holy kiss/ "

" I take it, Ma'am, as plain as it is written — that
our salutations to each other should be holy, as well
as all our other actions. But I do not find it order-
ed to be done only at one particular time ; and as to
the manner of doing it, I should think that may be
left to the custom of the country in which we live. It
is not the way in this place for men to kiss each other;
and I think I am fulfilling the apostle's directions,
when I give my hand in charity to a brother, just as
much as if I kept up to the letter."

" Yes : and in the same spirit you may do away
with every precept in the Scripture, by finding them
inconvenient to practice, on account of the customs
of the people among whom we live."

" My meaning will not go so far, Ma'am. I would
not bate an inch of what was plainly a duty, to meet
the fancies of any body. But are not you obliged to

140 IRISHMEN AND

put a wide meaning on another text, that speaks as
home to the point as the one you keep literally to ?
You won't deny that widows are supposed, at least, to
wash the saints' feet : and yet, what Christian wo-
man's conscience is defiled at not doing that ? I beg
your pardon, Ma'am, but you are a widow, and do
you put it in practice to them you acknowledge
disciples ?"

" No : the Church has not decided on its expe-
diency."

" And to my mind very sensibly. I am sure you
judge rightly, that it is fulfilled in the spirit, when you
do any needful work of charity to a brother who wants
it. I would not bring forward what the Lord himself
says, that c ye also ought to wash one another's feet,'
as you might tell me, he only meant that for the
twelve apostles, and so you would get out of the puz-
zle easily. But, Ma'am, I would not quarrel with
you, if, out of a scruple of conscience, you put
it in practice, so you did not ask me to see it with
your eyes. I hear the Pope does it ; and if he neve*
did worse, I would not cast it in his teeth, as one bit
of harm."

" The Pope is a very convenient personage to screen
yourselves behind, when you are convicted of adding
to the word of God, by your traditions. You must
be hard pushed for arguments, when you are obliged
to travel to Rome for them."

" Don't be displeased with me, Ma'am, for that's
the very way you often answer me, when you travel
farther for arguments than I can follow you. How-
ever, supposing that the question of salutation could
be settled to both our satisfaction, there is another

IRISHWOMEN. 141

thing to keep me from your communion. You would
not let me join in prayer with any other set of pro-
fessing Christians, but yourselves ; and that is what
I call a Galatian hedge to confine my Christian liber-
ty. I am bound to love all them that love the Lord
Jesus ; and where two or three such are gathered to-
gether in his name, I would not show my love by
turning my back upon them. You may tell me that
they are not disciples, only because you don't think
so ; but if I have good reason for judging the contra-
ry, or if I only think I have, it would be sin in me to
treat them with that contempt. You see, Ma'am, I
am speaking as a weak brother ; and though weak-
ness is but a poor thing for a man to confess of him-
self, yet it is what one may expect to meet with, even
in the Church. We have all our weaknesses, Ma'am,
and doubtful disputations will never give us strength/'

" Really, Mr. Monroe, the disputation has been all
on your side. I have long since stated to you the
truth ; and if you do not receive it on its own autho-
rity, I have not so high an opinion of myself, as to
suppose that my arguments could add any thing to
it. I merely wished to hear your reasons for continu-
ing a member of a religious society, confessedly de-
fective in discipline, not to argue you into a proselyte
to my opinions."

" To excuse myself, Ma'am, fdf staying where I am,
I must first tell the fault I have to you, that would
hinder me going over to you, for you won't allow me
any half-way house to take up my lodging in, even
if I was so inclined, which, in the honest truth, I am
not — and for this reason, that of all the dissenters that
ever came across me, (I mean those that look for salva-

142 IRISHMEN AND

tion through the merits of the Lord Jesus.,) though I
love many of them in my heart, and wish them good
luck, in the name of our common Lord, yet, supposing
I agreed with them more than I do, they would put a
yoke upon me, that would gall me the more, because
I expected liberty. My mind would be more fettered
with them than it is where I am : so, judging as I do,
if I was to go to them, it would be (saving your pre-
sence, Ma'am) f out of the frying-pan into the fire/ "

" We agree perfectly on that point, Mr. Monroe ;
and though you may not be inclined to give me the
credit of it, yet, I believe, I was the first person who
led you to view these matters in their true light/'

ec Having told you some weaknesses of my own,
Ma'am," he continued, " which would make you shut
your doors against me, if I asked entrance, I would
tell you some other objections that would hinder me
craving admittance, if it would not offend you."

" Not in the least. You will only bear in mind,
that I am not entering into a religious discussion with
you. I am merely listening to a declaration of your
creed, without meaning to controvert it, whatever it
may be."

" J am free to confess, Ma'am, that I often heard
you speak beautifully, so that my heart went with
every word you said ; and bating the misgiving you
have, that ever,y body is telling lies but yourself, and
that you can't believe a man, if he was as honest as
day-light, I could well bear with you as I do with
others, who sometimes won't bear with me. But I
have considered you closely, and I see few Bible
marks about you of belonging to God, excepting only
talk, and but little even of that, which, after all, is

IRISHWOMEN. 143

not here nor there. Indeed you seem to me to be al-
ways trying to look as if you never thought about
him, and to make believe that you are worse than
you are; for I cannot think you have a hard heart,
seeing what you do for the distressed and the poor.
And now, Ma'am, dear, why will you let the world
think so, by making your amusement out of them,
whose religion you think is only a holy short-cut to
hell ? I have seen you scorn at your sister for her
profession, when you ought to have shed tears of pity
over her, if she was so far gone towards destruction
as you thought. I have heard you call, in an in-ear-
nest kind of joke, that unartful young creature, Miss
Dora, a dear little hypocrite, when my blood has run
cold to think of the heavy woes denounced against
her, if she be such, by the Lord himself. Oh ! Ma'am,
does the religion of the Redeemer teach us to make
game of the unbelief of others ; or is it meant to
harden our hearts against those loving feelings to our
own, put into our breasts by Him who made us ; so
that we can laugh at them, who are near and dear to
us, because their portion is to lie down in sorrow at
the last?"

" How do you know my feelings on those subjects,
Mr. Monroe?"

"Ah! Ma'am, sure that is my complaint against
you, that I can't know them ; or that I must guess
you have not any at all. All I know about you is,
that you can laugh with them of your family, who are
openly profane ; and you can laugh at them who call
upon God, through the one Mediator between God
and man — and all this, because you are a religious
character. Now supposing religion did not teach us

144 IRISHMEN AND

to be pitiful, I would expect you, from the feelings of
nature^ to have c great heaviness, and continual sor-
row of heart/ on account of the ignorance of your
family, that is, if you had any affection for them, or
if your religion did not quench it entirely. Oh !
Ma'am, dear, take a thought, and look that way in
on yourself. Your own blood-relations there up at
the glebe, are not worse than the Jews, yet he who
might well have been tired out with their wickedness
and unbelief, wept over them, and never, that I can
read, showed any thing of a harsh spirit towards
them/'

ef You certainly have but a poor opinion of me and
of my religion, Mr. Monroe. But I am still to learn
how you are so intimately acquainted with my hard-
hearted and pitiless feelings."

fc I judge, Ma'am, from what you have said to me,
yourself, at different times, and from the books you
gave me to read, to open my mind; and believe me,
Ma'am, I could not take the good that was in them,
from the bitter spirit in which they were written.
They seem to delight in hating, and are full of scorns
and scoffs at those who think their souls worth look-
ing after: and then they deal so in calling names,
such as Pharisee and hypocrite, that a Christian man
would stammer at putting on another, when he can-
not read the heart. The first thing, Ma'am, that ever
gave me a turn against your religion, was when you
fixed both one and other of them names on Mr. Mil-
ward ; for, said I to myself, does she positively know
that he devours widows' houses ; or that he puts a
burden on any one, that he will not touch himself ;
or that he does his works, only to be seen of men ,* or

IRISHWOMEN. 146

that he makes any one two-fold more the child of hell
than himself; or that he takes the key of knowledge
from the people ; or that he brags of what God has
made him, to give an excuse for reflecting on poor
publicans ? I could not shut my eyes to the truth
that he had none of these marks and tokens about
him ; so I thought you wrong to speak so unadvis-
edly, and that made me jealous to trust you in other
things, without tracking you closely through the Bi-
ble, where, with submission to you, Ma'am, you often
took such round-about ways, that it was hard to keep
up with you."

" I am not aware that I ever spoke directly of Mr.
Milward, in such terms as you use/'

" Please you, Ma'am, you did ; for I brought you
to the point, and asked you if he was one of them you
would call a hypocrite, and you told me plainly he
was ; and though you did not say it all out of myself,
you gave me to understand, that I was sweeping and
garnishing my own house for the lodging of them that
would be out-of-the-way company for a man who
trusts in Him, who will shortly bruise Satan under
his feet. I was not much alarmed at that, for I thought
to myself again, what can the gentlewoman know
about me, to judge me after this fashion ? She finds
no fault to my confession, and she has no reason for
thinking I ever say one thing, and mean another.
But there was one word, Ma'am, sounded frightfuller
to me than all the words you ever said, if they were all
put together — and that was Babylon. You had a way
of saying it, as if it ought to put a gag in my mouth at
once ; and I was faint-hearted enough to be frightened,
without knowing why. e Will you stay in Babylon ?'

H

146 IRISHMEN AND

says you. ' Am I in Babylon ?' thinks I : f If so, it's
no place for me/ But after lying many a long night,
awake, and thinking it over and over again, it struck
me that it might be a-piece with your Pharisees and
hypocrites. So I turned in earnest to the Bible, to
see what it said, and I found that Babylon was al-
ways a persecutor of God's people, and I found that
when her end comes, there will be found in her the
blood of prophets, and saints, and of all that were
slain upon the earth ; and that satisfied me that if it
is a church, I am not in it, and so I couldn't come out
of it ; and it taught me to make allowance for some
of your hard speeches, and not to be frightened by a
dream."

" You must excuse me being the innocent cause of
giving you so much uneasiness," said Mrs. Falconer ;
" though since you have discovered so very easy a way
of solving every difficulty, it is not likely that your
uneasiness will ever continue very long ; at least, so
far as respects what you may hear from me. But if
you have concluded your gratuitous objections to my
opinions and practice, perhaps you will oblige me by
saying what you can, in defence of your own, which,
you are aware, appear to me as objectionable, as
a total discordance from Scripture can make them."

f( I am apt to be puzzled, Ma'am, when a thing is
thrown upon me all of a heap ; so, would it please
you to think of one objection at a time, if it is not
too much trouble to your mind ; and where you put
it to me fairly, I will try to give you as good an an-
swer as I can."

•' My mind will not be much wearied in searching
for objections," said the lady, laughing : " they are

IRISHWOMEN. 147

so numerous, that the only difficulty will be to make
a selection. However, you shall have the first that
presents itself to my recollection at the moment, and
which, you are aware, is brought forward triumph-
antly against you by Dissenters. Do you think your
indiscriminate admission to the communion perfectly
scriptural?"

" May I ask you, Ma'am, would you hinder any one
from partaking of that ordinance, who made a public
profession of his faith in Christ?"

e< I see you are reduced to quibbling, Mr. Monroe,
which proves the weakness of your cause; but be
candid, and confess that you know many in this par-
ish, who you do not esteem believers, and who are,
nevertheless, regular communicants at Christmas, and
other high days."

ee There is too much truth in what you say, Ma'am,
as to my evil thoughts of others — I can't help de-
murring of some, that they are not sound at heart.
I beg your pardon, Ma'am, but I have often a strong
misgiving about yourself, though I try to put the
temptation of judging far from me; but I would be
sorry to have to act upon my own jealousies ; and if
I had the management of it all to myself, I would
not take it upon me to put you, Ma'am, or any other
person away, when the meaning of the ordinance was
explained to you, and that you took all the responsi-
bility on yourself, only because I might have my
doubts of what was passing in your mind."

" You are describing your own very amiable feel-
ings, Mr. Monroe, but you are not defending your
church with scriptural arguments."

"All I have to say, Ma'am, is that we have more

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148 IRISHMEN AND

Scripture to back us in our forbearance, than you and
others have to excuse the catechizing of your neigh-
bours' hearts. The apostle Paul says, ' Let a man
examine himself.' There is not one word of a cross
examination by others. The confession with the
mouth ought to satisfy man — the believing in the
heart can be known only by God, who searches it, and
knows it."

" I assure you I am no advocate for cross examina-
tion, and you are not fair in objecting this to me.
But to keep close to the point — are there not number-
less instances among you, where you have not even
the profession of the lips ?"

" We are on surer grounds there, Ma'am, than you
are ; for the communion service, which, I believe, you
can't abide, puts the words into a man's mouth, so
that there can be no doubt about it. And if the worst
that ever lived was to join nfe only in the one prayer
before the consecration of the elements, I would try
and smother all my hard thoughts, and leavre them
to the judgment of Him, who alone judgeth righte-
ously."

"If you speak the real sentiments of your church,
I must say it requires more credulity from its mem-
bers than is consistent with the proportion of com-
mon sense, which might reasonably be expected
among any given number of persons, who were not
absolute fools."

" The very thing, Ma'am, I have heard brought
against yourselves ; for easy as you think we are sa-
tisfied, they say you are content with just nothing at
all."

" Well, Mr. Monroe, we cannot help what they say,

IRISHWOMEN. 149

whoever they may be. You are wandering from the
point, to which I shall bring you back in spite of all
your doublings. We shall suppose, for the sake of
argument, that your good-natured short-sightedness
in the case of some tolerably deficient characters, may
be all very right and very proper ; but what have you
to say of your civility to notorious offenders ? — I mean
such as you, good people, shake your heads at ; yet
such often force their way, and take their place among
you, I suppose, to the great scandal of the good, better,
and best in your congregations."

<{ It does surely scandalize the congregation, when
a thing of the kind happens ; and I am free to say
plainly, that I wish our church discipline was strictly
enforced. There is no doubt, it is greatly to be de-
sired, and we are in fault as to that. But if it was
not managed better than I see it with others, I would
rather let things remain as they are. Your discipline
is for ever splitting you, on account of an odd word,
now and then. Why, Ma'am, if report says true,
you are a member of no church at this present mi-
nute, being shut out of the one your mind would lead
you to continue in, because you happened to say that
it was not lawful for a Christian to lay up any thing
for himself or his family. Maybe I think you take a
narrow view of the matter, but I would not deliver
you over unto Satan, for only having respect to the
very letter of our Lord's commands."

" As usual, Mr. Monroe, when hard pressed, you at-
tempt to throw dust in my eyes, by objecting some-
thing that I either do, or do not hold."

" Don't you see, Ma'am, how I only want to make
it clear to you, that I am better off where I am, think-

150 IRISHMEN AND

ing as I do, with the Scripture for my guide, than
with any other body of professing Christians who
would not bear with me. You fault our discipline —

" Pardon me — not your discipline alone : I object
to every thing connected with you as a church, so
called."

"But we are at that one point which yourself
brought up, so let us see about it. — Well, Ma'am, you
fault our discipline : I agree it is not attended to as it
ought ; but where am I to find better ? Not with
you, for your's is unscripturally strict. You would
shut out one half the Bible from me, as completely as
Mr. O'Floggin keeps the whole from his flock. I
could not think over it, for myself, among you ; and
if I did, I must keep my mind close covered, or I
should be unchurched in a minute. Then, as for the
discipline of others, I could not tolerate it,by no means.
I once knew a woman who would not be received a
member of a dissenting congregation, till she had to
undergo a trial of a year and a half, though her walk
never gave offence to them within or without, and
her confession of faith was as clear the first day as
it was the last. Now, Ma'am, I say boldly that such
an apprenticeship has no warrant at all from Scrip-
ture."

" One would suppose I was advocating the cause
of Dissenters," replied Mrs. Falconer, " by your con-
stant recurrence to their practices, as an excuse for
your own, when you must know that I am more op-
posed to them than you are. One very strong objec-
tion to you and other religious members of the esta-
blishment is, your inconsistent latitudinarianism."

" Oh ! Ma'am, dear," said Monroe, stopping short,

IRISHWOMEN. 151

and lifting up both his hands, " is it right to use them
words? If I can't help bearing with people, and
loving them, for their love to my Master, am I to have
such terrible names put on me, that a gentlewoman
would be cautious of speaking, let alone one profess-
ing godliness ?"

" You are needlessly alarmed, Mr. Monroe. The
word which I inadvertently used, has not a very ter-
rible meaning. All I intended to express by it, was,
that you make too many allowances — that you are
what you would call, too charitable."

ff There's a power of words, no doubt," said John,
" that a man like me can't be expected to have at his
finger's ends; but when I hear any that are very
cramp, and out-of-the-way entirely, I am apt to think
they have a very deep meaning."

" I request your serious attention to what I am go-
ing to say,'"' said the lady, "as it may be the last op- ,
portunity I shall have of conversing with you ; and
you need not suspect that I have a deeper meaning
than what I plainly express. You have approved of
some of my sentiments, at the same time protesting
against my practice. I can also say, that I have
heard with pleasure, many most excellent things on
the subject of religion from you ; so much so, that I
should have no hesitation in acknowledging you as a
brother, if I were not acquainted with your inconsis-
tent conduct. Your sayings and doings are in direct
opposition, Mr. Monroe. You profess to be a disciple
of the Lord Jesus Christ, and you are, in fact, a woi-
shipper of the ten commandments."

" Is it me, Ma'am ! !"

" Yourself, Mr. Monroe. Do you not, every Sun-

152 IRISHMEN AND

day, kneel down while they are reading, and beg
of God to incline your heart to keep each particular
law?"

" Why, Ma'am, if I thought you were in earnest, I
might as well hold my tongue j for when things con-
trary to sense and reason, and the noon-day truth,
are believed by a lady, a man had better just say,
f well, leave it there/ for what else can a man say ?
But I see you are laughing at me, Ma'am. Sure, your-
self well knows that I don't worship them, no more
than any other part of the church service?"

" But do you not regard the law as a rule of life ?"

" I don't well know what to answer, Ma'am, for
fear you may be laying a trap for me, that I could
not so easily get out of, not seeing the drift of your
words, all at once. But I will say this without favour
or affection, one way or other, that I would be sorry
to break one of the commandments, wilfully and
knowingly, because e sin is the transgression of the
law ;' and you will not deny, Ma'am, that there is
not one word of allowance for sin, in either the New
or Old Testament, that would make a man careless
about it. Now, Ma'am, to make my meaning as
plain as I can. I believe murder is a sin, and you
won't think the worse of me, if I pray earnestly
to God to keep me from it, knowing that by nature
my f feet are swift to shed blood.' Then, for the rest,
I would not transgress them in thought, word, or
deed, if I could ; and if that is making them a rule
of life, why, Ma'am, I am guilty before you, and I
can't help it."

"It is just as I suspected. You are seeking jus-
tification by the works of the law."

IRISHWOMEN. 153

tc No, Ma'am ; I deny that. It is my joy, and my
thanksgiving, that the sinner's justification is riot put
upon that which is weak through the flesh, but that
he is justified and reputed righteous before God, by
faith Only in Christ, who is not a lawgiver, but
a forgiver of sins, and a Saviour. I. would not bate
an inch of my Christian liberty, which I am as jea-
lous over as yourself can be ; and I would fain have
every body fling away every yoke of bondage, but
the one that is easy, which the Lord invites his people
to take on them: but I would not use this my liberty,
as a cloak for licentiousness. I don't know if it will
please you ever to understand, Ma'am, what I mean ;
but the short and long of it is this. — As to justifica-
tion, I look upon the commandments as nothing but
' weak and beggarly elements' — weak and beggarly
for that purpose ; and so I would not let them come
near me, by no means, if they professed to help what
they could only hinder. But, Ma'am, though they
can't help a man out of a scrape, they can give very
good advice; and as long as they cry out against
murder, and robbery, and wickedness of all kinds, I'll
say that they are doing what is right, and that I
would be doing what is wrong, if I did not listen to
them, though I don't worship them, nor never will,
the longest day I have to live. This is my true
judgment, Ma'am, and if after hearing it, you judge
me still to be a liar, and refuse me the right hand of
fellowship on account of idolatry, I can't help it. —
That's all."

" Supposing you to be in earnest as to your profes-
sion, still I dare not countenance your disorderly

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154 IRISHMEN AND

walk, having a positive command to withdraw from
every brother that walketh disorderly/'

" Oh ! then, Ma'am, if that's all your quarrel with
me, it's easy made up ; for I can call the whole parish
to witness, that I neither meddle nor make with the
people, farther than if they ask an advice, as you did
now, Ma'am, when you put me to answer for my be-
lief. And I can prove, too, how there is not a man
of my age and feebleness works harder at his calling;
and that the never a strange bit of bread goes into
my mouth, except an odd cup of tea with Mrs. Bur-
rowes, or another genteel neighbour, which, yourself
won't say is unlawful. So Ma'am, I am no disorderly
Thessalonian, and"

A piercing shriek from Mrs. Falconer stopped
Johnny's harangue, and threw him into such a tremor,
that a few seconds elapsed before he was quite aware
of the cause of her alarm ; which was nothing less
than Lanty M'Grail, who had suddenly bounded over
the ditch behind them, and twining his long arms
round the lady, cried in a voice of terror —

f ' Save me, save me, Miss ! I'm cotch by them Polis,
that tracked me with Lion ; and I'll be hung out of
the face, and destroyed and transported, if you don't
banish them, and scould them away."

ee Let me go, my good boy, I beseech of you. Let

me go, I say, you that is, my good lad — I will

give you a shilling if you stand at a little distance. I

will give you half-a-crown if Mr, Monroe, for

pity's sake, persuade him to let me go, for he is pul-
ling me into the ditch."

Monroe did not trust to his powers of persuasion

IRISHWOMEN. 155

to make Lanty loose his hold, but attacked him with
the united force of his two arms, which, though they
had lost much of their original strength, were, on the
present occasion, more than a match for the stripling,
whose fright had completely unnerved him.

" Lanty, dear," said he, when he had extricated
the lady from his grasp, "it's all a folly, what you
are doing. Behave like a man, and like a good child,
and no harm will come to you/'

" If Miss Dora was here," cried the terrified boy>
still struggling hard, " I'd die asy, for she wouldn't
let them put a hand on me. — What will I do ! what
will I do ! to be murdered in this a-way ! Oh ! John-
ny— Oh ! Mr. Monroe, tell that one," pointing to Mrs.
Falconer, "to frighten them away. There's not a
man in the country would rise his head before her,
if she was only to be wicked, as they say she can
be."

" Oh ! be quiet, dear — be quiet now, I tell you,"
said Monroe, hugging him tight in his arms. ' ' You
will only make people think bad of you, if you try to
run away. Give yourself up quietly to Linny Ward,
and be mannerly and sensible, and tell the truth,
Lanty, dear, that it was your own foolishness about
the cap, made you do what you ought, no doubt, to
be well thrashed for : but, as for hanging you, the
king himself, no, nor the first lord in the land, could'nt
do it, for only wilfulness. So quiet now — quiet,
child — you can't swim against the stream, I tell
you."

All hope of flight was now, indeed, vain. The
three police men had separated, and taken possession
of every path, by which escape was possible, and

156 IRISHMEN AND

were coming towards him at a quick pace. Lanty,
who had eyed them, while at a distance, with quiver-
ing agitation, gradually lost all appearance of fear or
anxiety on their near approach ; and quietly com-
menced his usual low hissing whistle, with which he
was accustomed to beguile the time, while sitting on
the wall near his grandmother's cabin. The first of
his pursuers which came up, was Lion, who imme-
diately jumped on him, and began licking his face,
and showing other demonstrations of joy at their meet-
ing. A flash of feeling suddenly lighted up Lanty 's
countenance, as he indignantly pushed the animal
from him.

" None of your palaver," said he, " you ill-natured
pig. You sarved me a fine turn, didn't you, when I
trusted to your friendship? Down, you brute — I
wouldn't believe a word out of your mouth, no more
nor I would from a horse. Down, I say, you dir-
ty thing. Maybe its wanting to bite me you
are."

ec Now, is there any wit or harm in that poor inno-
cent's mind ?" said Monroe to the constable, who had
by this time seized upon Lanty, " when he expects
the dumb animal to understand him? Treat him
gently, Linny, till he's cleared of being any thing but
over headstrong, which isn't the worst crime that men
of your calling have to look after. And Lanty, dear,
I'll speak for you — I'll have to say that you are un-
mannerly, and ill-conditioned, and a very bad boy ;
but still my word will quit you of what is laid to your
charge. I suppose, Ma'am," he continued to Mrs.
Falconer, as the police walked off with their prison-
er, " that you would like to go back the shortest way,

IRISHWOMEN. 157

after your little fright ? And if it is pleasing to you,
I won't leave you till I put you inside the door, see-
ing that you are not used to things that we never
heed, being so common."

The offer of his escort was gratefully accepted, and
Mrs. Falconer, by means of a short cut, had soon the
satisfaction to find herself safely lodged in the Glebe-
house ; while Monroe, instead of returning home, took
the road to the police-barracks, to see how matters
stood with Lanty.

158 IRISHMEN AND

CHAPTER XL

GREAT discoveries were expected from the capture
of Lanty ; for, with the exception of Monroe, who
saw sufficient cause for his offence in the squabble at
the Sunday School, there was not an individual, from
the highest to the lowest, who did not suspect that
there was more of kindness than malice in his im-
pertinence to Miss Milward : and on the following
Monday, many of the neighbouring magistrates
and gentry attended his examination at Traffield-
house, while a number of police constables were in
requisition, to act with promptness, according to his
testimony, against the* yet unknown offenders. But
nothing could be elicited from Lanty, though ques-
tioned and cross-questioned with great ingenuity. He
was not dogged, nor sulky, nor rude ; but he had an
air of stupid indifference, which never could be rous-
ed to any thing like feeling, when attacked in turn
by the stately admonition of Lord Colverston, or the
friendly exhortation of Mr. Milward, or the raw-
head-and-bloody-bones threats of Mr. Fitzcarrol, or
the sly wheedling of Willy Geraghty. The little
sense he ever had, as Monroe afterwards declared,
was frightened out of him, by the hunting of the po-
lice, and the fine words of the gentlemen, or how
could he otherwise forget all the instruction he had
got, and the beautiful answers he often gave Miss
Dora ? Thus he had never heard of heaven or hell,

IRISHWOMEN. 159

or if he had, not a bit of differ did he ever hear there
was between them. He did not know what taking
an oath meant, but he would do it if Mr. Milward
bid him, and he would say any thing the gentlemen
ordered. He had never told a lie, barring an odd
pinch by times, or a clout to a fellow that would not
let him alone. He thought that killing a pig was all
as one as killing a man ; and the sorrah bit of harm
there was in murder, seeing as how himself was often
murdered over and over again, and no matter about
it. He did not love any body, or hate any body, and
the never a care he cared, if all the world was shot,
he supposed there would be plenty of people still —
what would hinder them ? During his long examina-
tion, he never for an instant lost his self-possession, if
such it could be called, or evidenced the slightest in-
terest in any of the questions, till accused of ingrati-
tude to Miss Milward, when his whole frame became
agitated, and he stuttered out, with much eagerness
of voice and manner, " I wouldn't hurt the ground
she walks on, and she knows that well, herself."
Being thus thrown off his guard by his better feelings,
he became embarrassed, and was evidently at a loss
to account for his conduct towards her. But his per-
plexity did not continue long. Johnny Monroe had
unwittingly supplied him with an excuse, by reading
him a long lecture, while in the police-barrack, for al-
lowing the poor lucre of a bit of a leather cap, to
drive him to such wickedness; and though the excuse
was none of the most amiable, it was the best, if not
the only one, to help him out of his present dilemma.
Accordingly, after a few very natural grimaces, and
pulling all of his fingers till the joints cracked, and

160 IRISHMEN AND

protruding his left shoulder, so as very nearly to form
with it a screen for his face, as if ashamed to confess
the truth, he at length accused her of keeping back
his right : and betrayed so childish an anxiety, and so
much pettish displeasure at the withholding of the
cap, that the majority of his examiners came round
to Monroe's opinion; and Mr. Milward, having, in
his daughter's name, declined prosecuting for the as-
sault, he was, after sundry advisings, and warnings
and threatenings, turned over to his grandmother, who
promised to have a sharp eye and a heavy hand on
him, for the future.

At the same time, a number of the Carragh boys,
who had been taken on suspicion, were liberated, ha-
ving clearly proved an alibi ; and the warrant against
Connel St. Leger (whose general character was of the
worst description, and who was more than suspected
of being implicated in other outrages) was with-
drawn, on the representation of Terence Mulvaney,
a great favourite with Lord Colverston's steward, who
offered to make oath, that he and his comrade Dela-
hunt were employed by him, on that evening, to
watch a kiln-cast of oats.

Notwithstanding the large reward which was of-
fered immediately, and the unceasing exertions of all
the authorities in the county, nothing transpired that
could lead to detection. On the contrary, a report
began to be whispered among the peasantry, and
which was not discouraged by Fitzcarrol, and the
party of which he wished to be considered the organ,
that the old gentleman having exceeded a little after
dinner, had taken a tree for a robber, and so, fired his
pistols at random ; and that to save his credit, his

IRISHWOMEN. 161

connections were willing to make a little noise, and
offer a reward, which they knew could never be
claimed. *•£— ~_^,

Improbable as the story was, it nevertheless an-
swered the purpose for which it was first put in cir-
culation— that of irritating the minds of the lower
orders against those who took an active part in try-
ing to preserve the peace of the country. Lord Col-
verston, however, persisted in calling a county meet-
ing, which was held about ten days after Lanty's ex-
amination, and which, as might be expected, did more
harm than good, by the clashing of party feelings and
interests. The Braymores and Fitzcarrols came pre-
pared to oppose any resolution proposed by the Traf-
fields and Oglandby's; and their various connections
and dependents ranged themselves on either side, de-
termined to fight, tooth and nail, in defence of their
leaders. Hector had a fine field for display, being
the only orator the opposition could furnish ; and he
luxuriated in the opportunity thus afforded him, of
hearing himself hold forth, by speaking twice as long
and six times as loud as Lord Colverston, and by re-
plying in the same lengthy and uproarious strain to
the other gentlemen, who ventured to see the matter
in a different point of view. Sir Ralph Thorndale
made two or three very neat, and very short speeches,
all about nothing : endeavouring as much as possible
to keep on neutral ground, which was, in fact, the
only ground on which he could ever find firm footing.
It was his wish to be considered the umpire between
the two conflicting parties, on the present occasion,
but it was evident that he never attained a higher
place in the estimation of either, than that of an un-

162 IRISHMEN AND

welcome go-between, whose interference was resent-
ed by both. Still he shuffled, and shuffled, and
seconded a resolution, and then seconded the amend-
ment, and then explained, and then recanted his ex-
planation: but his unfailing resource, when hard press-
ed, was to apply for his opinion to Lord Farnmere,
who, seated in a chair next to the Lord of the soil,
seemed perfectly unconscious of what was transact-
ing around him, unless when startled by a violent
thump on the table from Hector, or directly address-
ed by the soft, silky voice of the Baronet.

The relief obtained by an appeal to his Lordship,
was but momentary. Whatever reply he vouchsafed
was inaudible beyond the chair, and immediately after
the exertion of pretending to speak, he resumed the
air and attitude, which would have exactly suited a
personification of Grey's Prophetic Maid, when she
pathetically concludes every reply to her troublesome
visitor, with —

Now my weary lips T close,
Leave me, leave me to repose.

Hector, who began to be very impatient at the Ba-
ronet's monopoly of public attention, took advantage of
the silence occasioned by Lord Farnmere's last speech,
and was on his legs for the fourth time, when his noisy
harangue was quickly drowned in the still louder roar
of Willy Geraghty, vociferating, Border, order," who
then, without lowering his key, proceeded to address
the chair, undismayed by the yells of the mob, who
resented the interruption of their favourite.

" My Lord, isn't this a beautiful way to be do-
ing business, letting all our time be taken up with
speeches, to nq end, that I defy your Lordship, or any

IRISHWOMEN. 163

other gentleman of sense or understanding, to make
head or tail of? If you don't stop that man's mouth,
he'll bother away till he goes through every word in
the biggest spelling-book that ever was printed ; and
when that stock is out, he'll coin new English sooner
than give his tongue a holiday. It's the way of all
his family from time immemorial — that is, of his fa-
ther and himself, for I never heard that the pedigree
could count higher. Can't you at once divide the
house, as they do in Parliament, and that will
tongue-tie him complatet Concentrate your forces,
my Lord, and we'll beat them hollow — we'll beat
them to the back-bone — we'll beat them to their
heart's content. Bid all the honest men wheel to the
right of your Lordship, and, my word for it, the re-
mainder will have elbow-room, and to spare, on the
left, which is the place best becomes them."

The honest men waited no further orders, but
pushed and scolded, and fought their way, to the
gathering place appointed by Willy ; and contrived,
as the mass rolled onward, to carry Sir Ralph with
them ; while poor Lord Farnmere, in the perturba-
tion of his spirits, caused by the sudden movement,
said, " aye," three times very audibly, when it was
shrewdly suspected, that if he intended to say any
thing, it was ff no." As Willy promised, Lord Col-
verston carried his resolutions by a very respectable
majority, and the meeting broke up amidst frightful
confusion within and without doors. Fortunately,the
mob were so delighted with Hector's speeches, that
they insisted upon chairing him, which gave opportu-
nity to the two noblemen, and their friends, to drive
off without experiencing any ill usage at their hands,

164 IRISHMEN AND

except hootings, and hisses, and curses in abundance,
and a few handfuls of mud aimed at their carriages.

The other obnoxious characters of a lower grade,
made their retreat as well as they could, and stole
out of the town in the most unostentatious mariner.

Although the same reasons for avoiding notoriety
could not be pleaded by Father Duff, yet he seemed
particularly anxious to escape observation. During
his short walk from the court-house to the inn, he
refused seven invitations to dinner, on the plea of be-
ing engaged to Ned Costigan, and having called for
his horse in a great hurry, pursued his journey alone.
This solitary propensity was very unusual with
him, as he was of a remarkably social disposition, and
had often been known to wait hours together for the
chance of a companion, rather than ride a few mi-
nutes by himself. But the occurrences of the day had
vexed and grieved him, and he disliked the idea of
talking them over again till his mind was a little
calmed. Mr Fitzcarrol had magnanimously renewed
his offer of tranquillizing the country, with his as-
sistance, and that of his coadjutor, O'Floggin, if al-
lowed to take their own way; and poor Father
Duff could see no possible way of arriving at so de-
voutly-to-be-wished-for a consummation, with such
assistants. In truth, his day was over. In former
times, he had been able to restrain his flock within
some bounds, being constantly on the watch to nip
in the bud the first appearance of a bad spirit in his
parish; and with such success, that he often boasted
of it with pride, when contrasting it with others of
a lawless character. But he was remiss in his care
of the youthful part of , his charge, at least so it ap-

IRISHWOMEN. 16-5

peared to his Bishop, by permitting them to receive
instruction unauthorised by the Church of Rome.
After repeated reprimands for inefficiency in this par-
ticular, which, certainly, had not much effect, as nei-
ther parents, nor children could ever be convinced
that he was in earnest in his opposition to the schools,
and therefore, persisted in never minding him, the
tone of his Superior gradually softened, and on the
plea of his advanced age and growing infirmities,
though still an active, hale man, he was kindly ac-
commodated with an assistant to ease him of part of
his arduous labours. From the hour that Mr. O'Flog-
gin entered upon his coadjutorship, the affairs of the
parish assumed another aspect, and in the course of
five years, Rathedmond could vie, in moral degrada-
tion, with the most neglected part of Ireland. In
the mean time, Father Duff had been insensibly
losing the authority, which, for years, he had main-
tained with an even, though, sometimes an high hand,
The people no longer looked to him for advice, or fol-
'owed it when gratuitously given ; and his eyes were,
at last, unwillingly opened to the humiliating truth,
that he had sunk into a mere cypher. At no time
had this consideration pressed upon him more pain-
fully, than when Hector made his pacific proposition,
and offered to take him into partnership with O'Flog-
gin. He felt it to be an insidious committal of him,
as a favourer of their principles, to which his own
were decidedly opposed : yet such was the state of
bondage, to which the tyranny of Rome had subject-
ed his free-born spirit, that he dared not even to ex-
press his sentiments, much less to act upon the con-
viction of his better judgment. Then, on the other

166 IRISHMEN AND

side, coarse things had been said, and intemperate as-
sertions made, which, as usual, went to prove too
much. Sweeping censures involved the innocent
with the guilty, and he writhed under the injustice
that would consign to an untimely grave all the good
he had done in his days of comparative freedom, and
throw a load of other men's sins upon his shoulders.
He had, hitherto, stood well with Protestants of even
the deepest orange and blue, who were in general,
convinced of the uprightness of his intentions, and
believed him to be more than half a Protestant at
heart ; but on this trying day, he thought he saw a
decided change in their manner towards him. Every
cold look, and stiff bow, which, after all, might not
have been colder or stiiFer than the company-man-
ners of some people always call forth, were register-
ed by him, as so many symptoms of his falling popu-
larity in that quarter ; and it seemed to him as if all
the world was fast bidding him good night.

This heart-sinking was in some measure relieved
by the returning kindness of Mrs. Costigan, whose
long- tried friendship he feared was irrecoverably lost
by his unfortunate attempts at condolence, as nearly
three weeks had elapsed before she showed any symp-
toms of reconciliation. But within the last few days
he had received half a hundred kind messages from
her, with an invitation to dinner on that day ; and as
he drew near to Kiladarne, his spirits revived from
the conviction, that, at least in that house, he was
sure of a hearty welcome.

Nor was he disappointed. Both master and mistress
received him with the heartiest of hearty welcomes;
and though the latter did not directly allude to the

IRISHWOMEN. 167

circumstances of their last meeting, she was evidently
anxious to atone for her petulance on that occasion,
by even more than usual kindness of manner and ex-
pression. After a very few minutes, Father Duff felt
again quite at home, and before dinner made its ap-
pearance, had so far recovered his spirits, as to give
a short abstract of the occurrences of the meeting
with tolerable composure.

There is no doubt but he looked forward with a
little apprehension to the probable turn the conversa-
tion might take before the evening was over. Mrs.
Costigan had still the same look of care, but as yet
she had not uttered a complaint, and seemed anxious
to give her whole mind to entertaining her guest.

" Ah ! Mr. Duff, dear," said she, during a pause in
carving, " try a bit of this pickled beef, and put by
them chops, that have all the nourishment burnt out
of them, by that one in the kitchen."

" I believe I'll take your advice," replied Mr Duff,
determined to be agreeable in every possible way,
" for though the mutton couldn't be better, it can't
be denied but it saw a little too much of the grid-
iron."

" It goes to my heart," said she, " to put good
meat into the hands of the like of Christian Rooney,
only to spoil it. Ivhad a sore loss of Ileen Garvey,
Mr. Duff, for she is the only girl in the country, who
could tell why they got a pair of hands on their
body/'

" She was a well- handed girl, indeed ; and I was
sorry to hear she left you, as I thought she answered
you to your satisfaction."

" I did all I could for her, Mr. Duff, but she would

168 IRISHMEN AND

take no warning. I gave her as much liberty as a
girl ought to have, in moderation, and it would not
content her. She stole out of the house after we were
all gone to bed, and went to the dance at Bryan Kil-
lion's that night, when, as sure as I am sitting here,
a scheme of murder brought most of them together.
However, that is neither here nor there, for I could
not suspect her of having any knowledge of such do-
ings. I was just beside myself when I found out
what she had done, and how her name was reflected
on, so that I expected her to be dragged to jail be-
fore my eyes. And, to give her her due, she hum-
bled herself, and asked pardon, and promised to be
more cautious for the future. But when I insisted that
she should give up company-keeping with that un-
fortunate St. Leger, who, if he has not blood upon
his head, is cruelly belied, she grew stiff and harden-
ed. She cried enough to break the heart of any two
of her slender make, but she would not forswear his
company, Or promise to make strange with him, even
for a while. So I said in a hurry, that she must ei-
ther give me up, or him ; and she would not come
into my terms, and I was forced to let her go. 1 be-
lieve she is sorry, as well as myself, for the parting;
but badly as I miss her, I would not take her back,
if she encouraged that fellow about the place : and I
think you will say that I am not wrong, Mr. Duff?"

" Not at all, indeed. Nobody could fault you for
setting your face against idlers and night-walkers."

" Remember," she added, " that I lay nothing to
poor Ileen's charge, but wilfulness about her liking
for that bad graft, who she thinks more of than all
the rest of the world put together. She will come to

IRISHWOMEN. 169

sorrow, I know, by marrying him ; and if so, I will
never turn my back on her — no, no ; I can't forget
what she did for me, when the weight was hanging
over my heart, that crushed it, and bruised all the
sense of feeling it ever had, out of it."

" Oh, oh !" groaned Father Duff, inwardly ; " we
are in the thick of it now ,* and how I will ever get
out of it, is beyond my poor skill to reckon."

But Mrs. Costigan did not pursue the subject ; on
the contrary, she seemed anxious to get rid of it at
once, by abruptly asking some question about the
meeting, which, although it had been answered a
minute before, her guest most readily undertook to
answer over again ; and that so diffusely and paren-
thetically, that the cloth was removed before he had
exhausted his stock of information upon one very in-
considerable particular, hinting at the close, that
much of an interesting nature remained yet to be told.
This manoeuvre generally had the effect of engaging
her attention to a story of even lesser promise ; but
though, in the course of his narrative, she, at intervals
pronounced a " dear me !" or, ' ' think of that !" and
other little ejaculations, which give a fillip to the spi-
rits of a story-teller, it was evident, from the auk-
ward places at which they came in, as well as from the
incessant fidgetty change of posture, that she was to-
tally uninterested in the relation, and contrary to her
usual custom, soon left the room, throwing the blame
of her ill-manners upon Christian Rooney, who, "if
not well watched, might do all kinds of mischief,
without once troubling her head whether it was bad
or good."

A full hour and a half elapsed before she again

I

170 IRISHMEN AND

made her appearance ; and then, instead of taking her
seat at the fire, she began to arrange the tea equipage
on one end of the table, while the gentlemen, who
had not yet finished their punch, occupied the other.
Her husband, who was a great politician, still conti-
nued his calculations upon the probable consequences
of Lord Colverston's application to government; and
Father Duff, as he raised,, from time to time, the glass
to his lips, watched her from under his eyes, to con-
form himself, as much as possible, to her present hu-
mour, whatever that might be. The scrutiny was,
however, any thing but satisfactory. There was a
restlessness in her eye, and an indecision in her mo-
tions, together with, now and then, a sudden, though
short fit of abstraction, which made her so unlike her
former self, even in her most eccentric moods, that it
was impossible to decide upon any determinate mood
of action, and he awaited, in no slight degree of tre-
pidation, the result of this unusual demeanour.

At length every arrangement as to the tea-table
was completed, and Mrs. Costigan took her seat in
the proper place for doing the honours of it, giving a
little, short, quick cough, her usual prelude to a
speech. Father Duff was determined to pre-occupy
the ground.

' e I was telling Ned, just now," he began, f ' what a
pity it is to see money and station thrown away upon
that poor creature of a lord from England. All the
time he was muttering, and winking, and twisting
his legs, without being able to get out a word that a
Christian could understand, that rhyme of yours was

running in my head, about you know — poh ! what

is come over me, that I can't remember it ? But it

IRISHWOMEN. - 171

means, that if a man has not some worth in him, he
might as well be a fellow made up of leather, and
something else, with a hard name/'

" Little I care what he is made of, Mr. Duff," said
she, rising from the table, and drawing her chair close
to her guest. " It would be well for some of us that
we were never made at all, if the half of what that
book says be true" — suddenly drawing a thick octavo
from under her shawl, and placing it on the table be-
fore him.

"Ah! woman dear," exclaimed the priest, "how,
in the name of all the world, did you come by a Pro-
testant Bible ?"

"I bought it — but no matter for that. How it
came makes no difference one way or another. What
I want now, is for you to tell me what you think of
it?"

" Oh ! sure what could I think of it, only what I
ought to think of it ? It is a good book — nobody
will deny that ; and provided a man don't take a bad
meaning out of it, but just read on quietly a bit now
and then, without wanting to understand more than
the church thinks proper for the laity, it would never
do him the least harm. So don't be afraid of me ;
we are old friends, who wouldn't quarrel for a trifle.
If you have a fancy for reading it, keep your own se-
cret, and I will never tell."

" Answer me this, Mr. Duff: — did you ever read it
yourself?"

"Aye, did I; both in Latin and English: and
mighty fine reading it is, particularly in Latin."

" And answer me another question : — How can you

i2

172 • IRISHMEN AND

be so cheerful as you always are, after reading such
a book ?"

"Blessings on you ! Is it you that makes a won-
der of that? you that would read all the books in
print, if they came in your way, and only be the more
ready for a laugh or a joke, the minute after. Ah !
you little know all I had to read in my day, and read-
ing that was dull enough to make a man stupid at
the time : but when it was over, what was to hinder
me enjoying myself like another ?"

"You have not come at my meaning yet, Mr. Duff,"
she answered, impatiently : "but maybe you will un-
derstand me, when I ask you what is sin ?"

" Any fool could answer that," said Mr. Duff,
" Why, don't yourself know, that sin is wickedness,
and the worst of wickedness ? what I hope you and
I, and the like of us, will wash our hands of en-
tirely."

" That's beautifully spoken," said Ned ; " for bad
as we are, and to my mind we are bad eneugh, yet it
would be a poor story to tell if we had any of that
among us."

" Mr. Duff, I may as well tell you the truth," said
Mrs. Costigan, " that that book has put thoughts in
my mind, which will not let me have an easy minute.
I cannot now sit down quietly to grieve over my own
trouble, but some of its words will take hold of me,
and every thing else is banished from my memory.
I don't know how it is with me, and I want you to tell
me why it should make me selfish and uneasy. To
my knowledge, I never did harm to a living being,
nor never committed a sin, since the hour I was
born ; and yet I cannot turn the second leaf, open it

IRISHWOMEN. 173

where I will but I feel frightened at myself, as if I
was the worst that the blessed air ever blew upon,
and I dread often to raise my eyes, for fear of seeing
sin stare me m the face."

" That only shows you have a tender conscience,
Mrs. Costigan, and you ought to be happy to have a
tender conscience."

" Then, every thing that happens, let it be as bad
as it may, is nothing,, after all, but a receipt for hap-
piness ! That is strange doctrine, Mr. Duff; and
though I would be as willing as most people to be
guided by what you say, yet I am in the dark to see
why 1 ought to be happy, because a whole book is
written all against myself, accusing me, and con-
demning me, and telling me that there is no hope for
me, in this world or the next."

"You see, Mrs. Costigan," said Mr. Duff, after
puzzling for a few minutes, " the Bible is a book to
advise us for our good ; and every one that advises
us for our good, must say sharp things to us, and
threaten what not, to make us behave ourselves :
just as good parents have to manage with their chil-
dren. They have to scold them, and call them imps,
and blackguards, and vagabonds ; and they must fly
into a passion, and threaten to cut them in pieces,
and leave them a mark to carry with them to their
graves ; and, after all, they have no meaning, but to
frighten them into good manners. Now, that is the
way with what you have been reading. It is to keep
you close to your duty, and nothing else, you may
depend upon it."

" And there's not a woman from this to America,
wants less to be checked about her duty than her-

174 IRISHMEN AND

self/' said Ned. " So, Sally, dear, turn a deaf ear to
any thing that would blame you on that score."

" There's no use in talking to me after such a fa-
shion, Ned. If that book is what it says it is, it can-
not deal in foolery and game-making ; and if there
is meaning in words, it speaks home to my heart, that
I am a sinner, and what am I to answer when I can-
not deny it ?"

"As for that matter," said Mr. Duff, "we are all
sinners ; but you know we are to look to the mercy
of God, and do the best we can for our own souls."

" I never did any thing but what was good for
my soul, Mr. Duff, as you can vouch for me. In-
deed, how could I do otherwise ? For, not to praise
myself, I can say with a safe conscience, that in any
goodness 1 ever did, I never thought of God at all,
it came so natural and so easy to me. Yet that is no
comfort to me now ; for if sin is in me, how am I to
get rid of it ? And if, after all, I want mercy, what
am I to do more to deserve it than I have been doing
all my life ? It is a folly to tell me to be one bit bet-
ter than I am, for that is impossible. Since these
thoughts came into my mind, I tried what I could
do in that way, and the more I try, the more my un-
easiness increases, instead of going off."

" It all comes, Mrs. Costigan, from your not look-
ing at the difference between sin. There is mortal
sin, which is enough to make a man tremble in his
skin ; and there is venial sin, which is a trifle. The
word venial may show you how little matter it is ;
and that is all that you and I, and other good Chris-
tians have to do with."

" I never once thought of that," said Mrs, Costigao,

IRISHWOMEN. 175

eagerly catching at any thing to relieve her distress.
ff But it is so long since I said the catechism, that I
forget my seven deadly sins, as if I never heard their
names. Put me in mind of them, Mr. Duff, that I
may be sure I am safe from them."

" Isn't it odd," said he, after thinking a while, " how
things will run out of a man's memory ? I once had
them so pat, that I could count them over like a
school-boy; but now I can't for the life of me recol-
lect the first. If I could catch that, the rest would
follow in a minute. However, no matter. If you
ask old Alice, or the schoolmaster, or any of the Car-
melites, who teach the catechism in the chapel of a
Sunday, they will tell you all about them."

" No need to go out of this room, for I remember
them myself, as well as if I was put through the
questions yesterday," said Ned, quite proud of him-
self, at knowing more than the Priest. " This is what
the master says — ' How many are the chief mortal
sins, commonly called capital and deadly sins?' says
he — and then comes the answer — ' Seven — pride, co-
vetousness, lust, anger, gluttony, envy, sloth" Am I
right in my count, Mr. Duff?"

" Every one of them right, Ned, and in their proper
place. You have them so glib, by remembering the
first word. I could have taken you up the minute
you said ' pride/ only you got on so quick, there was
no overtaking you."

" The Bible bears hard enough upon me," said Mrs.
Costigan, " but you and the catechism have sealed
my doom at once. It requires no witchcraft to un-
derstand, that if them be deadly sins, I must be a

176 IRISHMEN AND

deadly sinner, and 1 am much obliged to them who
found out that for me."

(< Sally, dear ! Sally, dear !" said her husband,
" what's come over you this evening ? Haven't you
trouble enough already, without hunting after sin to
harass and fret you to no end?"

" I don't believe one word of that catechism, when
I consider the matter coolly," said Mrs. Costigan, ad-
dressing the Priest, in a manner any thing but cool.
" It is only a trick, as you say, to frighten children ;
for every one of them things that it calls deadly sins,
are just pieces of myself that come into the world
with me, and won't part me till death lays his hand
upon me and them. — Sure I never denied that I was
proud — you often told me so, and made a joke of it,
which showed how little you thought of it. Then,
as for anger — why I am angry this minute with you,
and angry with myself, and angry with Him who
made my lot: and I can't help it, and I don't want
to help it, for I have a right to be angry. — And who
could blame me, if I was envious at seeing others,
with their child upon their knee, while my own
that I had the best right to, is lying in Rathedmorid ?
Now, supposing all that to be deadly sin, what is
to become of the whole world that never stops com-
mitting it ? What is to become of myself, if I must
live and die in it; and I see nothing else before
me?"

" Dont talk of dying in mortal sin, my dear wo-
man— don't let such a thought ever come into your
head. If you should have the misfortune, at any
time, to fall into it, do as the catechism desires you,

IRISHWOMEN. 177

when it says — Ned, what does it say we must do
when we fall into mortal sin ?"

" We must repent sincerely, and go to confession
as soon as possible/'

<f At that rate, I would tire out all the priests in
Ireland, for there is not a minute but I ought to be
confessing: and for repentance, how could any one
be sorry, morning, noon and night, for what comes
upon them so naturally, and so often, that I defy the
best hand at arithmetic to keep the count ? So, drop
the catechism, Mr. Duff, for it don't help you, nor
would I give a straw for one word it says, after such
nonsense."

" Oh ! Mr. Duff, dear," said Ned, " lay your or-
ders on her to quit reading that book entirely. What
business have such as we to meddle with what don't
belong to us ? She has plenty of fine books to rise
her spirits, and you ought to tell her to keep to
them, like a sensible woman, as she was ever ac-
counted/'

" Ned says what has sense upon the face of it, and
I must say, you are ill advised to take to such read-
ing, without the consent of your clergy. If your
heart was set upon it, I would have let you follow
your fancy, as I know you would take your own way.
no matter who said against it, once you got a thing
into your head : but I would have warned you, what
St. Peter says, and says of that very book, that it is
hard to be understood, and that the unlearned will
only read it to their own destruction. You may take
my word that St. Peter says all that, for I read it
myself, and heard it repeated a hundred times."

" I can shew you the very place, myself," said Mrs.
I 3

178 IRISHMEN AND

Costigan. " I soon found it out, as I did plenty, to
startle a stouter heart than mine. It was this very
thing that made me ask you for instruction. I
thought that as religion was your business, and that
you got all the learning to make you master of it,
that I could be in no danger with you for my
guide."

e( Then, take my advice, Mrs. Costigan, and put it
all out of your head, at once : and when you are not
thinking about it, just tell me what troubles you, and
I will give you an answer to your satisfaction, as you
will say yourself when you try me."

" No time like the present, Mr. Duff: and it will
be a charity for you to set my mind at ease, and let
it go back to fret about what it ought, and not be
taken up all with myself. I told you before, that I
can't lay my finger upon a sin I did, or want to do,
being naturally inclined to peace, and not given to any
bad vice ; yet there is a temptation come over me,
ever since I took to reading the Testament, to be
scared at myself, and to draw my own picture after
the pattern of the foolishest creature that walks the
earth ; and what can be the reason of that ?"

"Something frightened you, you may be sure; and
if you would only point out to me what it was, I
might put you in a way of getting back your courage
again. But if you keep hammering away about sin,
and nothing else, what can I say to you more than I
have said ?"

" I marked this place for you," said she, opening
the book. "It don't stand to reason that it means
all it says, and sometimes I think I am a fool to mind
it at-all \ but there is an odd misgiving about me, as

IRISHWOMEN. 179

if it were true. My sense says it is not, and then my
heart contradicts my sense, so that between them
both, my brain is distracted. Read on, Mr. Duff,
from that place, beginning, c There is none righteous,
no, not one ;' and see what it says about cursing and
bitterness, and every awful thing, till it bids all the
world stop their mouths, because they are guilty be-
fore God."

Mr. Duff was a long time reading the verses un-
der consideration, and much longer meditating over
them, before he gave his opinion.

" God help the world," he said at last, ec for there's
no doubt it's in a bad way; and what can a man do
to mend it, if the people won't take good advice ?"

" Never mind the world, Mr. Duff," said she, with
one of her most impatient gesticulations. " Bad
people will be bad, if you preached yourself black in
the face. Leave them to themselves ; only tell us, do
them words touch me, or any other Christian that
never injured another ?"

" It is not easy to be as good as one ought," an-
swered the Priest thoughtfully, after another pause.
" It takes a deal of penance and mortification to drive
sin out of a man."

" Troth Mr. Duff, if it ie there at-all, neither
penance nor mortification will make it move a quarter
of an inch. I tried both one and other in my time,
and they left me just where they found me. When I
was a girl, young and innocent, my mother, who was
careful of our manners, made a complaint of me to
the Priest, two or three times, about some foolishness,
and penance was put on me. The last time, (I be-

J80 IRISHMEN AND

lieve it was for going with others to a fortune- teller,)
I had prayers to say till the string of my beads wore
out, with fair telling them : and I was angry all the
time ; and I was angry after it was over, at the bare
thought of the plague it was. Now, if anger be
such a deadly sin, why did not that sore penance ba-
nish it, instead of raising it more and more ? — Then,
as for mortification ! — If I don't mortify myself, all
Lent, and every fast-day, I wonder at it ! — Me ! that
can't bear the smell of fish, from a trout to a salt-
herring ; and that would not think it worth my while
to throw a cloth on the table, if there was not a bit
of flesh-meat to come after it ; yet, not even in sick-
ness would I transgress. And, after all, if I am still
bad, I am not the value of a penny the better for my
fasting, nor could I ever see the least change in my-
self, except being glad that the fast was over,"

"It's your own fault, Sally, dear," said her hus-
band, " if that gives you uneasiness ; for how often
did I offer to speak to Mr. Duff, arid give him any
compensation in reason, for leave for you to eat meat,
when I saw you wished for it."

'' Ned, honey," she replied, " don't mind me.* It
never gave me any uneasiness to talk about, and I
would not fret you for a thing of the kind. But, Mr.
Duff, I see you do not like answering my question,
so let us take our tea in quietness and friendship. I
must go on reading for myself, for I cannot stop
where I am : and who knows, when my mind is com-
posed to search deeper, but I may find the cure as
well as the disease."

" Compose your mind, by all means," said the

IRISHWOMEN. 181

Priest. " There is no cure for trouble of any
kind surer than to put it out of the head at
once."

" That is not the way, Mr. Duff. You never knew
me to sit down contented, without sifting to the bot-
tom, whatever took hold of my thoughts ; and I will
leave no stone unturned till 1 am satisfied. There
are them I know who only found peace and joy, where
I met all that was discouraging; and if I cannot
come at their secret by myself, I must only ask them
to make me as wise as themselves/'

Ah ! Mrs. Costigan," said the Priest, mournfully,
" take care of yourself, and don't let obstinacy get
the better of you so far, as to turn your back, in the
end, upon the true faith. I guess who you mean to
make your complaint to ; and though I allow her to
be a woman in a hundred, and that if ever any one
out of the Holy Roman Catholic Church could be
saved, it would be herself; still it is a dangerous
thing to walk on the ledge of a precipice, even if the
wisest and the best should be the leader. Besides,
is it a thing I could expect from you, to go and ex-
pose me to them, that think little enough of me, as
it is ? Would it be a kindly turn, after so many
years of friendship between us, to go and tell the
world that I was not able to give a word of advice
to one of my own flock ?"

" Never fear, Mr. Duff, that your name will be re-
flected on by my means. It may be that I never will
open my mind to mortal, out of this room, but if I
can't help it, with the load that is about my heart,
why, what can be blamed but my own foolishness ?
And here is my hand for it, Mr. Duff, dear, that let

IRISHMEN AND

my thoughts of myself be what they may, I will ne-
ver think other than what is friendly and loving of
you ; and I humbly ask your pardon for my wilful-
ness, the other day, when I said what I ought to be
ashamed of. Whatever fixes itself in my mind, you
will be the first to hear of it, and I will be led by you
entirely, if I can see the way you are going/'

"Where a woman like you got all the sense you
have, Sally," said her husband, " is beyant a man of
my understanding ; for it is just a pleasure to hear
you speak, even when I don't see your drift. If every
thing went contrary to me from morning to night, I
ought to be happy, thinking of my luck to light upon
such a wife ; and I am not ashamed to say it to your
face, Sally. But now, that Mr. Duff has settled your
little misdemeanor to your satisfaction, let us talk of
something that is instructing, while we have a man
of his sort in our company. Fill out the tea, dear,
and look cheerful. Now, do you ralely think, Mr.
Duff that Sir Ralph has it in his eye to set up for the
county, in opposition to young Mr. Traffield?"

It was some time before Mr. Duff could collect his
thoughts, so as to take a very lively part in the con-
versation ; but Ned plied him hard with questions,
and Mrs. Costigan exerted herself into something
like her former agreeability, till by degrees his spirits
revived, and the remainder of the evening passed so
cheerfully, that he forgot the annoyances of the day,
and, on his departure, promised with a hearty good
will, to repeat his visit on an early opportunity.

IRISHWOMEN. 183

CHAPTER XII.

LANTY'S fear of the " boys," and of his grandmo-
ther, quickly subsided after the day when he baffled
all the wise heads in the county. Whatever he knew,
or however he had gained his information, he had
given the most decisive evidence that he was trust-
worthy, and had no inclination to turn informer ; and
when that apprehension was removed from the minds
of the people, they rather admired him for his clever-
ness, in saving the life of his benefactress, without
betraying the Oglandby plot; and began to entertain
for him that mysterious kind of respect, bordering on
veneration, which the half-witted, or idiots, often ob-
tain from the lower orders in Ireland. On his return
home, he quickly settled down into his old habits ;
resumed his seat on the tottering wall, from which he
had a view of whatever was transacting in Mr. Cos-
tigan's yard; made up the quarrel with Lion; and,
on the next Sunday, appeared in his own corner in
the Sunday school, where he behaved with so much
propriety, that he was rewarded with a new lesson,
in words of four letters, and carried off the long-pro-
mised cap in triumph.

" Now, Lanty," said Miss Milward, as she gave it
to him, fe I expect that you will be a good boy in
future — I really am your friend, but the continuance
of my friendship must depend on your own good
conduct."

184 IRISHMEN AND

ee Miss Dora/' said he in a whisper, " if they take
to shooting the gentlemen entirely, don't be anxious
about your turn, Miss. All the neighbours says they
won't allow a dog to bark at you ; and supposing
even that you was killed on the spot, they'd make an
uproar, Miss, would frighten the world."

£< I am very much obliged to them, Lanty ; but I
hope there may be no occasion for any uproar on my
account. Go home quietly, like a good boy, and in-
stead of idling about the whole week, spend an hour
or two every day spelling over your lesson for next
Sunday."

" Miss Dora," he called out, as she turned away,

" is that the coat you had on, Miss, the time the

time, you know, when you wouldn't go into the
coach?"

" No ; why do you ask ?"

" That coat, Miss, is what keeps all their mouths
open again me still. Ileen Garvey says I ought to
be skivered for it, and the people's never tired of
going to her for news about it. She says it will ne-
ver do a ha'porth of good, after the splashing it got;
when I know, Miss, if you'd only try beetling with
it, it would answer. When my grandmother has any
thing to wash, she brings it down to the river, and
pelts at it with the beetle on a big stone, till it's all
as one as new. Will you try it with that coat, Miss
Dora?"

" It would be quite useless, 1 assure you, Lanty,
to attempt any thing of the kind. But it is no mat-
ter about it now, provided that you 'never play so
mischievous a prank again."

"If it isn't mended, Miss, I won't have pace, go

IRISHWOMEN. 185

I won't. Mrs. Burrowes herself speaks crueller nor
Ileen herself; and what will I do with her, at all,
Miss, when she says, she will never die till she has
the vally of that coat out of my bones ?"

" You are quite mistaken : Mrs. Burrowes for-
gives you, and I forgive you, and nobody has a right
to be displeased with you but me. If you are teased
about it any more, tell them plainly that it is no bu-
siness of theirs, and that it is very no, no, I

do not mean that — I mean that you should say

nothing — remember, not one word, for it is very im-
proper to be impertinent on any occasion. And you
know, Lanty, that you have behaved as ill as possi-
ble— every body must say that, and you must bear
it patiently. Now, go home. I promise for Mrs.
Burrowes, that she shall say no more about the gown
— at least, that she shall not say much."

That Mrs. Burrowes should ever afterwards pre-
serve an impenetrable silence on the subject of the
ill-fated gown, was, perhaps, too much to be ex-
pected ; but Dora was aware that her sentiments
towards Lanty were not quite so sanguinary as he
apprehended. The finale to the grand dinner at
Charlesborough, had more than reconciled her to the
disappointment ; and if Johnny Munroe had not still
persisted in requiring what appeared to her a super-
abundance of resignation and forbearance, it is pro-
bable he would have been much sooner restored to
favour. If, therefore, she indulged at times in a few
harsh expressions, it was more for the sake of consis-
tency, than from any real feeling of ill-will ; and it
required but the necessary quantum of coaxing from
the young lady, to insure his pardon. After a little

J86 IRISHMEN AND

moralizing, and not a little praise of her own placa-
bility, she at length consented to forgive him, with-
out any mental reservation — strongly protesting
against the further requisition of forgetting, which
Dora most unreasonably tacked to the original de-
mand. When the housekeeper's pacific inclinations
were notified, the wrath of the subordinate members
of the family quickly subsided. Alice O'Neil was
specially invited • by the dairy-maid, to come, as
usual, on churning days, for buttermilk ; and Lanty
having had the good luck to save Mrs. Burrowes's
favourite Guinea-hen from the jaws of a fox, was
looked upon as a benefactor to the whole family.

In the mean time, all the measures taken by Lord
Colverston and others, for discovering the authors of
the late outrage, completely failed. With the ex-
ception of St. Leger, none of the real offenders were
even suspected, and after a few weeks, the incident
was scarcely alluded to, and the strong interest
which it had at first excited, was rapidly dying
away in the obscurity with which it was enveloped.
Notwithstanding these favourable circumstances, the
spirits of the committee, and their agents, were
greatly depressed. That some of their secret was
in Lanty's possession, his grandmother declared her
firm conviction ; for although he was as incommuni-
cative to her, as to the bench of magistrates, there
were several little facts, which, when put together,
amounted to proof, that his impertinence to Miss
Milward had no reference to their dispute about the
cap, but was a stratagem to keep her out of danger.
Suspicion, therefore, naturally lighted upon Dela-
hunt, who, besides his unwillingness to engage in the

IRISHWOMEN. 187

affair, was always a prime favourite with Lanty ;
and as naturally an apprehension was excited, that
he might make further discoveries in another quarter,
particularly when tempted by a reward of eight hun-
dred pounds. This suspicion was carefully conceal-
ed from him by his accomplices, lest it might drive
him to adopt measures for his own safety, by turning
king's evidence ; but the feeling of distrust was so
strong against him, that it was impossible to restrain
it at all times. Even his friend, St. Leger, though
strictly warned to keep a fair face to him, could
with difficulty repress his indignation at his traito-
rous conduct, and now shunned his society as care-
fully as he had before courted it. The young man
felt all the misery of his situation, and had a sad
foreboding of its consequences. He knew too well
the stern nature of the system, whose laws he was
suspected to have infringed, to hope that his offence
would be passed over. He knew also, that summary
justice had been unrelentingly inflicted in other in-
stances, where the transgression was light in compa-
rison to that with which he was charged, and he
could plainly read his death-warrant in the counte-
nances of his most intimate associates. Under this
impression, he did not dare to sleep in his mother's
cabin. Night after night, in the middle of a stormy
December, he shifted his quarters from the fern-field
on the hill to the swamps bordering on the bog, till
his suffering of mind and body 'became nearly insup-
portable ; and with the inconsistency very natural in
a person so circumstanced, he often wished for death,
while taking so much pains to avoid it. Just at this
time, Mr. Costigan's man-of-all-work died, and his

188 IRISHMEN AND

place was offered to Delahunt, whose activity and
diligence counterbalanced, in the farmer's estimation,
the few flaws in his character — the worst of which
was his intimacy with Connel St. Leger. At any
other time, such an offer would have been rejected
with disdain; for a Delahunt, man or woman, had
never yet been known to go to service. Some very
near connections had certainly been reduced, from
time to time, to great straits — even to the necessity
of travelling, alias, begging, in the neighbouring
counties, during the summer months of a year of
scarcity ; but they had, hitherto, been preserved
from the still deeper degradation of servitude. Be-
sides, Wat was a landholder. He had a farm of
three acres and a rood, which, after paying rather a
high rent, supplied potatoes sufficient for the support
of himself and his mother ; so that, in this case, the
degradation must be regarded by the country at
large as both wanton and wilful. However, on the
present occasion, Mr. Costigan's proposal was ac-
ceded to at once. His house offered a safe asylum
during the long winter nights : and his mother, who,
though ignorant of the full extent of his danger,
guessed that he was an object of jealousy, made no
objection to the arrangement, and was only solicitous
to persuade the neighbours, ff that the never a bit of
the lucre of gain tempted him, but only a wish to pay
a compliment to Mr. Costigan, and a wish for a little
more company nor herself in the short days, which
was natural enough in one of his years."

She was particularly eloquent on this topic to
Alice O'Neil, who called to light her pipe at her
house, the day of Wat's instalment in his new office ;

IRISHWOMEN. 189

but Alice was sullen and reserved, answering either
in monosyllables, or by a quick shake of the head,
the meaning of which it was very difficult to inter-
pret, as it might be a sign of assent, or it might be a
hint that the subject was disagreeable. Mrs. Dela-
hunt explained it according to the latter interpreta-
tion, and as she had her own reasons for wishing to
stand well with her visitor, she endeavoured to be as
agreeable as she could.

" You had a long walk, seemingly, this morning,
Mrs. O'Neil ? You look tired and jaded, and haven't
your own sprightly way at-all."

" I had a wary tramp of it," answered the other,
" all the way to Corrigheenawanyagh. Peggy Ma-
haify's beautiful cow is sick, and herself lying ; so I
offered to go to the friar, to get him to read an office
for the cow ; but I'll not do the like in a hurry for a
Christian, let alone a baste, I can tell you."

(( That friar is a holy man, by all that I hear of
him/' said Mrs. Delahunt, " and one that does a
power of cures. It would be happy for the country
if we had more of his pattern in it. Isn't it a wonder
to you, that Father Duff doesn't take to that trade —
a man with his edication — and not let others get mo-
ney and credit to his disparagement ?"

" He never was up to the thing," said Alice. " I
remember him now thirty- four years, and I can say,
with a safe conscience, that barring a scoulding to a
man in liquor, he never stretched out a hand, or
opened a book, to cure even a blast, or a fairy-stroke.
I brought a sick child to him myself, once, that was
terribly wrought with the convulsions, and what had

190 IRISHMEN AND

I for my pains, do you think ? He just bid me bring
it to the Doctor/'

(e I believe he was ever a quite man, that loved his
ease better nor his money/' replied Wat's mother.
" But will you resolve me, Mrs. O'Neil, what is the
reason that holy priests isn't so common now-a-
days, as they wor afore now ? Why, as well as I can
hear, there is but four in all the country, and long
ago every parish used to have its own, as I have
hard."

" The badness of the world is the rason," replied
Alice, " and the dispensaries, and infirmaries, and
doctors, and schools. When I was married, there
was only one doctor within fifteen miles, and he only
for the quality. Then we had luck, for ould Father
Corny Mf Cudgel had the place all to himself. Ah !
he was the fine man, who would do as many cures in
one day, when he was in the humour, as another
would do in seven years."

" I often hard tell of him," said the other, " how
he could explain what the dumb brutes was talking
to one another about."

" Troth, Naupla, dear," said Alice, relaxing from
her sulky fit, " I seen the little birds hopping before
him, as he walked on the road, and turning about to
hear what he was saying ; for he had a fashion, when
he drunk a little hard, of talking to himself. He was
one, too, that wouldn't let a man, that wasn't of the
rale sort, stand before him. There was few then in
the place, compared to these misfortunate times; and
they would run up to their necks in a bog-hole,
sooner nor come across him, when he was hearty.

IRISHWOMEN. 191

Did you ever hear what he done to one of the Thomp-
sons, that made the whole family turn to mass ?"

" Never/' said Mrs. Delahunt, drawing her stool
closer to Alice. " It was a wicked thing, I'll engage,
since it frightened them for their good."

" It was a thing to give them a warning the long-
est day they lived/' said Alice. " As sure as you're
a living woman, and that that blessed fire is there,
where it is, he turned him into a sod of turf !"

" Oh ! Mrs. O'Neil, dear," exclaimed Naupla,
raising her hands and eyes, " of all the terrible things
I ever hard, and that bangs ! Oh ! sure, if it was
a stone, it would be some consolation, for, then, one
might lie in pace and quiteness for ever. But a sod
of turf ! Oh! musha, musha! Why, what was to
hinder the first that come by from tossing it into the
fire, and burning it all, body and bones ?"

ee It's as true as you're sitting there, Naupla : I
hard my mother tell it, before I can remember any
thing. And it's likely you didn't hear of how he
sarved the Gilligan's about the son-in-law's letter?
Well, I'll tell it to you. The ouldest daughter, you
see, made a match of her own with a soldier from
England : and people said, when she was in other
places with him, that she went his way, though she
wouldn't confess it to her own. Be that as it may,
he was sent abroad, and she came back to her people,
as proud and grand as any lady, with gold bobs in
her ears, and nothing as dutiful to her clargy as he
required. But he was up to her ; for one day, when
he was in the house, the boy brings in a letter from
the husband, and laid it on the dresser. She made
an offer to take it, when Father Corny only gave one

192 IRISHMEN AND

look at it, and it swelled, and swelled, and swelled,
and swelled, and went on swelling, till it filled the
whole house ! ! !"*

' fWell, w asn't, that enough to daunt a Turk;" cried
Naupla. " If I was alive then, I suppose the trimbling
wouldn't leave my heart for half a year, if it didn't
kill me for good. But tell us, Alice, will the friar, up
there at Corrigheenawanyagh, ever equal Father
M'Cudgel, do you think."

" Pah" said Alice, scornfully, " he was born in a
worn-out time, and is no more"

A voice was at this moment heard outside the door,
calling so loudly and so incessantly, " bee-a, bee-a,
bee-a," the usual gathering cry for turkeys, that Mrs.
O'Neil was forced to stop short in her speech, and the
next moment a girl entered the house, in a state of
great agitation. .

" For the pity's sake, Naupla," said she, " did you'
see them unlucky ramblers of turkeys, that will be the
death of me, before the last of their ugly throats is
stopped? This is the third time they have strayed
away since yesterday; and the feet of me never will re-
cover the hardship they got, follying them through the
sharp stones of Luggelas, where I tracked them this
morning afore."

"And did they give you the slip again, so soon ?"
inquired the mistress of the house. " You have your

* The Editor cannot vouch for the truth of the two miracles re-
corded by Mrs. O'Neil; but he knows a Protestant woman, upon
whom the bate relation of them, and others of a similar description,
made so strong an impression, that she turned Roman Catholic when
she thought she was dying, about four years ago. He had the story
from her own lips. Some of our readers may be glad to learn, that
she did not long continue a member of the Church of Rome.

IRISHWOMEN. 193

own bother with them, to my knowledge. But
for that matter, one can't be angry with them, for
they are the foolishest birds that ever came out o
an egg."

<c Foolish!" cried the girl. "Never bleeve me, if I
an't ashamed of my life, to say I have any call to them,
when I meet a dacent stranger on the road, and they
looking so woful, and running this way and that way,
and rising a cry, as if one was after beating the lives
out of them. My heavy hatred on them, any how,
for I never knew what rale misfortune was, till the
like of them gawky, straggling, yelping pack came
across me."

" They are a torment, Ileen, and that's the best'
we can say for them. But come in, and take an air
of the fire, girl. You'll be perished entirely if you
don't give yourself a warming."

" Oh ! not a foot of me can go in, or stop a mi-
nute," said Ileen, still advancing into the room, till
she was close to the fire, when she recognized her for-
mer neighbour, who had been sitting with her back
to the door. " Is that yourself, Alice ?" she cried.
f< Who would have thought to see you here, so far
from home, in such terrible weather ? But it's you
had always the love for the road. Let me go far or
near, I'd be sure to meet you, either coming or going;
and it wouldn't surprise me, if I went to the end
of the world, to meet you there before me."

" 1 go no where only about my own lawful busi-
ness," said Alice, " nor never was given to galloping,
late or early. There's them I could name, has gone far
enough, as it is, and is likely to go farther nor is pleas-
ing to them, if they don't mend their manners."

K

194 IRISHMEN AND

"If you mean me," replied Ileen, with provoking
good humour, "you haven't said one word of lie; for
if them unfortunate bastes, (I hope it isn't a sin to
call any thing out of it's name,) but if they don't get
a little discretion, they may drag me after them to
the bottom of the black north before they stop. Oh !
if I had a penny for every mile 1 have walked after
my wary charge, I'd be the richest woman in the Ba-
rony of Glen-ard, by this time."

" If you are so tender of your feet," said Alice,
f( why did you leave the genteel place you had, where
you might sit, like a lady, half the day with your
hands before you? And why did you hire with
Christie Balf's wife, who can't afford to give meat,
drink, and wages, to one that won't do her busi-
ness ?"

The tears stood in lleen's eyes. For a moment she
was at a loss for an answer, but quickly recovering
her gaiety, she replied, <c Ah ! what's come over you,
Alice, to be so sharp and nyarragh this morning? —
you that can be agreeable of an odd time, when your
temper will let yon. The dear knows I want a little
comfort in my heavy trial ; so tell us how is the mis-
tress, and the master, and poor Lion, and the other
people about the place ? I guess the mistress takes
on worse nor ever, now that Paddy Mulheian is
dead."

"I never seen a greater alteration in a woman," said
Alice. " She's coming round to be herself entirely —
singing through the house like any lark, and stopping
half the day in the kitchen, to hear the news from
.who will tell it, instead of moping by herself, as she
used to do."

IRISHWOMEN. 195

" What good would all the reading do her, if it
didn't stop the fretting after a while ?" asked Mrs.
Delahunt. " Edication and breeding is a great bles-
sing, Mrs. O'Neil ; and I ever remark, that them,
that got the most of it, hasn't proper feeling, like us
poor, ignorant creatures, that knows nothing."

"As for that," she replied, " all the edication in a
school-master's head won't do without content ; and
Mrs. Costigan found that, when she found Christian
Ilooney. She never was shooted with a girl before,
and she can't say three words without a commenda-
tion on her. I ought to be thankful enough for my
luck, seeing it was me put in a good word for her, to
get the place."

<( Why then, Alice," said Ileen, sighing involunta-
rily, " though you think it vexes me, yet I'd be glad
of any thing would please the mistress ; and I would
only be the more glad, the contenteder she was, sup-
posing even it was to my disparagement."

f( Good rearing," continued Alice, with a moraliz-
ing shake of the head, " is a thing that passes count;
and Betty Ilooney gave nothing else to her three
daughters. It's long before one of them would
have her name kicked about the country, like a foot-
ball."

Ileen rallied her spirits.

" Talking of good rearing puts me in mind of Lan-
ty. Ah ! how is the poor unnatural creature ? — Do
you think he will ever be cured of that ugly tempta-
tion he has, to destroy every body that comes in his

way r

" What did he do, Ileen ? — Did he ever offer to
destroy any body, barring Miss Dora ?" asked Mrs.

K 2

196 IRISHMEN AND

Delahunt, eagerly ; regardless of the grandmother's
feelings, in her anxiety to hear an interesting anecdote.

" He had Mrs. Falconer choked, all to nothing/'
answered Ileen, "only Johnny Monroe hallood a big
dog after him, and he was forced to quit his hold,
just in time to let her draw the last breath was in her
body. The gentlewoman packed off, tbe next day, to
Carragh, where she stayed under the guard of her
old uncle, till she went away to England, and she
promised never to come back, if she don't hear that
he has the luck to be hung or transported."

(C Who cares where she goes, or what matter about
her ?" cried Alice, pale with anger. " She's nothing
but a fire-brand, and a liar, if she trumped up that
story about the child."

Ileen continued, eel wouldn't stay at Kiladarne, af-
ter I heard that, if the mistress would offer me a
pound a quarter ; for what good would money do me,
with him for a neighbour, to keep me in dread of my
life, late and early."

<e Take care of yourself," said Alice, looking at her
furiously. " Mind, I say, take care of yourself.
Don't meddle with me, or mine, or you'll rue it, no
matter what wall you lay your back against."

ee She's only joking, Mrs. O'Neil," interposed Nau-
pla. " Do you thing I would listen to her myself,
speaking that way of Lanty, only I know she is not
in earnest? Why it would be a sin, and a terrible sin,
to redicule one of God's own, like him. Ah ! can't
you sit down, Ileen, and talk sensible and cool, and
you'll see what good company well be, in a minute."

ee Not a bit of sin, or bad meaning, had I in my
heart, when I drew him down," said Ileen, "only just

IRISHWOMEN. 197

to vex her, who is always thraping at me, for no rea-
son but her own temper. And since I gave her sper-
rits a little rise, I want no more enmity or ill-will
between us. Oh! don't mind wiping the stool for
me, Naupla. I'm in a hurry now would kill twenty
men, and I couldn't stop a minute, if you gave me
my lap full of gold."

She had retreated about a pace and a half from the
fire, when she stopped to welcome Murtagh Cum-
musky, who had entered the house unperceived, du-
ring the debate between her and Alice, and to whom
she repeated the story of her woes, protesting in the
end, that if she never was glad to see him before,
she was joyful enough then ; for, of all men living,
he was the most likely to give her some account of
the wanderers, as the people said, he could see as
well with the back of his head as the front ; and
would know the differ between one of the "boys"
and another, fifty perches off, in the darkest night.
But notwithstanding these peculiarities of vision, the
tinker denied all knowledge of the stray turkeys, and
after a few words of condolence on her manifold mis-
fortunes, and hopes of their speedy termination, he
inquired for Wat DeJahunt, with whom he said he
had a little business.

" He slipped down to Kiladarne, this morning/'
replied the mother. " Mr. Costigan had a trifle of
business, so he couldn't refuse obliging him, for a
little."

<s I'm in no hurry," said Murtagh : " another time
will do as well. Will he be about the place this
time to-morrow, do you think ?"

" Why should he ?" said Alice. " Isn't he hired to

198 IRISHMEN AND

Mr. Costigan in place of Paddy Mulheran : and
where would you look for him, or any other servant-
boy^ but at his master* s, where he has his work to
mind ?"

" Hired afKiladarne !" said the tinker, laying his
budget on the dresser, and leaning on it as he looked
steadfastly at Alice.

"Is it gone to be servant-boy at Mr Costigan's !"
exclaimed Ileen, sitting down on the stool, and draw-
ing it closer to the two old women.

" That isn't it at all/' said the mother. " He only
just went out of a compliment to Mr. Costigan, till
he can provide himself with a care-keeper : for what
call had a boy like him, with full and plenty at home,
to go out for wages ? He won't get a penny by it,
and he has nothing to do but walk about and please
himself. I said the world and all to him to make him
give over, and scoulded till I was wore out ; but he
was tired with idleness here at home, so he thought
it better to put his hand to something by the way
of divarsion."

" He didn't like this lonesome place in the long
winter nights," said Alice, looking significantly at
Cummusky.

" The boy never thought of that," said the mother,
earnestly, e ' till myself put it into his head, and cried
shame upon him to be sitting with an old woman like
me, when he might have company to make him cheer-
ful. Besides, a little help will do us no harm these
bad times. The most I can do, is to keep hunger
outside the door; and it's wonderful to think how
the poor can get living at-all."

<f It's famishing times, as I know to my cost," said

IRISHWOMEN. 199

Ileen. " The donny bit I put in my head does me
no good, looking at the ocean of poor coming to the
house,, that I darn't stretch out a hand to, barring six
in a day. Nothing keeps the life in me, only the
races I have after them unruly torments, that were
only hatched for my sorrow."

" Mr. Cummusky," said Naupla, willing that the
conversation should continue in its present course,
11 you that goes far and near, following your call-
ing, has a right to pick up knowledge and instruc-
tion ; so, maybe you can give a guess why the
ground begrudges to grow the food as it used to
do."

" I suppose becase it's growing old," replied Mur-
tagh. " People gets weak, as years thickens on
them : and according as I can understand, the world
is a good round age by this time."

" Young or ould," cried Alice, " it couldn't be other
nor it is, with the way the poor is robbed and massa-
creed out of their little substance, to support in gran-
deur him at Rathedmorid, or that Archdeacon at
Dunoran."

" Poo, poo ! where are you driving at now?" asked
Mrs. Delahunt. cc I'll never deny it, but I got more
from them two, and the like of them, nor ever I
have; and if they were banished, it's a matter of
surprise to me, where yourself, Mrs. O'Neil, would
find a roof lower than the sky to put your head
under."

"Who thanks them?" cried the old woman bit-
terly. e( We have a good right to all belongs to them ;
for isn't it our own ? At any rate, it's not me alone
thinks bad of them. Don't the Parliament speeches

200 IRISHMEN AND

in the newspapers say, that they are the scourge of
the country ; and isn't all hands at them, to give them
a fall."

<e Troth, I hope they'll be disappointed, whoever is
at that work/' said Naupla, "for some of us would
come down with them/'

" They'll come down, I tell you," said Alice.
" They'll come down — low — low they'll have to work
for their bread. Their children will have to go out
to their sarvices like any other poor body's. What a
beautiful sight it will be," she continued, laughing,
" to see the daughters milking cows, and sweeping
out the floor of a dirty cabin !"

" May I never sin, but it isn't lucky to stop under
one roof with your shameful tongue," said Ileen, ri-
sing.— ' f Don't listen to her, Mrs. Delahunt, if you ex-
pect luck or goodness over your head, for she says
what is unpossible and wicked to look at, by no
means. Only think of Miss Dora, dabbling about,
the way she wants her, and more nor that, having to
carry a pail of water on her head, or running after a
set of common turkeys, without shoes or stockings,
like myself ! Before that trial would come upon me,
I'd drownd myself in the first ditch, out of pure ma-
lice and pity."

" So would I too, Ileen," said Naupla, "and I'll
tell you more what I'd do. I'd beg round the world
for her, before she would demane herself — and if I
could not get it by fair means, I'd steal for her, and
I'd sell to the last faggot off my back, and I'd live
on half a meal a-day, to keep her as genteel as be-
comes her. Oh ! you may laugh till you're sick, Mrs.
O'Neil, but if you pass by her goodness to you, I'll

IRISHWOMEN. 201

never forget her tenderness to me and mine, when I
was in the parish. Your spite won't have power over
her, or one of her kin. She was born a lady, and she
was bred a lady, and my prayer, late and early, is,
that she may be a lady in heaven, supposing even
that myself has only the same poor lot there that fell
to .my share in this world."

"You are nothing but a pair of fools," said Mur-
tagh, taking up his budget, " to mind what an old
woman is raving about : she'd say ten times worse to
vex you, once she goes into one of her contrary hu-
mours. Come along with me, Alice, for I'm going
your way, and I like pleasant company when I can
get it. Ileen, 111 give you a call one of these days —
a girl, like you, is a fortune to a man of my trade,
you make so much work for me. It's likely I'll see
Wat soon, Mrs. Delahunt, and I'll tell him you sent
him your blessing."

" That woman," said Ileen to Naupla, as the tinker
and Alice left the house, " will do more mischief be-
fore she dies ; and 1 wonder she isn't tired of the
trade, seeing how little good she ever got by it, bar-
ring the destruction of all belonging to her. I must
be off now — I never have a minute to spare, like
another, for a little discourse with a neighbour, and
the poor sperrits I ever had, is fairly worked out of
my bones, If any body comes to look for me, you
can say that I gave a call just to ask after them
wicked hounds, and that I was turned upside down
with confusion. If I'm alive this day month," stop-
ping again at the door, " I'll give you leave to say,
Naupla, dear, that I an't natural, for ten girls
couldn't stand the half of what I go through."

K 3

202 IRISHMEN AND

CHAPTER XIII.

A FEW evenings after Mr. Duff's visit, the house-
hold of Kiladarne was thrown into a state of the most
nervous excitement, by the sudden announcement of
Mrs. Costigan's intention of paying a .visit to the
glebe, on the following morning — an occurrence
which had never yet been known at that season of
the year, or indeed at any other season, without at
least a week's notice, which was generally the short-
est space of time in which due preparations could be
made for such an undertaking. Two hours before
daylight all hands on the premises were at work, and
a number of extra hands called in to help. One mes-
senger was sent for the smith, to contrive temporary
make-shifts for the sundry nuts and screws, which
had disappeared from the jaunting-car, during its
long vacation — another was despatched for the cobler,
to put the harness in order — a third had a run of four
miles to a first cousin of Tim Lonegan's, for the loan
of his white stockings — and a fourth had a still far-
ther race to Derrynaslieve, for some yards of penny
cord to brace one of the springs, which had been bro-
ken nobody knew when, " but it was done long ago/'
Mrs. Costigan was also very busy, and more fussed
and hurried than on similar occasions. Her muff and
tippet required shaking and airing, and her cornelian
broach was mislaid, and the ribbands of her best
bonnet were crushed, and wanted smoothing ; and

IRISHWOMEN. 203

Christian Rooney was no use,, only to put every thing at
sixes and sevens, and scorch, and soil, and crumple,
and do the exact contrary to what she was ordered.
Ned, who was rejoiced at his wife's intended excur-
sion, took his full share in the multifarious business,
transacting within and without doors, and worked
so hard, that after seven hours of incessant bustle,
the jaunting-car drove to the door, in very respecta-
ble visiting order, with Tim, as charioteer, looking so
smart in his first-cousin's white stockings, and Wat
Delahunt's new hat, that the eye must be very hyper-
critical and fastidious which would notice certain
minor deficiencies in his other accoutrements. Mrs.
Costigan's toilet was, at length, completed, and hav-
ing taken her seat in the car, with a large basket of
baking apples to balance the opposite side, Tim, at
one and the same minute, gave a stamp on the foot-
board, a chirrup with his lips, and a flourish with his
whip, and drove off with the air of Lady Thorndale's
English coachman.

Ned hoped great things from this visit, and his
hopes increased, as hour after hour passed over, and
the sun had long gone down, before she returned.
But he was sadly disappointed to find, in the course
of the evening, that his hopes were unfounded. In-
stead of engrossing the entire conversation to herself,
as on former occasions, he could scarcely get more
than a " yes/' or " no," to the questions which he
thought most likely to interest her. She could not
tell if Miss Dora's riding-whip had been found — and
she had never asked how Mrs. Falconer liked her
new maid — and she had heard nothing of how the

.204 IRISHMEN ANti

outlandish pigs looked and ate after they were made
into bacon.

" Sally, dear/' said he, at last, a I'm afraid you
didn't get the welcome at the glebe, was always there
for you before this ; and, I am sure, if they are jea-
lous of us, that they have no reason, for let who will
run them down, I am clear to the world of ever say-
ing a word could offend a stick about their place."

" If I was their sister," replied his wife, " they
could not make more of me. I had as much respect
paid me by Archy Flood, the way he helped me out
of the car, as if I was Lady Colverstone herself; and
as for them in the drawing-room — I need say nothing
about it. Look what Miss Dora made for me with
her own two hands !" taking from her pocket two of
the very useful kinds of pincushions of the present
day — one purporting to be a harp, the other in the
more unpretending shape of a pair of bellows.

Ned was completely at a loss to guess the use of
these glittering articles, but he praised them ; and
then praised Mrs. Milward and her daughter ; and in
the abundance of his kindly feelings, proceeded to
eulogize, in regular gradation, every inmate of the
glebe.

" It is no blame to Mrs. Milward," interrupted
Mrs. Costigan, when his panegyric had reached Kit-
ty Moore, " if I am not a joyful woman this evening.
She spoke to me all alone, for as good as two hours,
when I opened my mind to her, more like an angel
than a woman ; and she set my heart at rest about
sin, which you know gave me uneasiness enough for
some time past.*

" No wonder at that/' said her husband, " for gf

IRISHWOMEN. 205

all the women born, (not leaving yourself out, Sally,)
she could know little about it. Then, dear, what
makes you so cast down, if all the good was done to
you that you say ?"

" One thing was hardly clear to me," she answer-
ed, f{ when another began to darken my mind-^and a
thing that promises to give me more uneasiness than
all that came upon me yet. I could not give vent to
my thoughts to her about it ; and I was glad to get
away, when it fastened so close upon me."

"There never was a thought came into your head,
Sally, that you need be ashamed of; and it was a
pity you didn't out with it to her, who can give com-
fort to any that wants it — besides, what matter is
there in only thinking, when a body can't help it ?"

"Ned, you don't guess my thoughts, or you would
not talk of them in a light way. I know you will be
startled, but I can't keep any thing from you long, so
I may as well tell you at once. I am dissatisfied
with my religion, and I am beginning to suspect,
that we are wrong, quite and entirely, and as wrong
as wrong can be."

" Sally, dear, before you speak in so desperate a
manner, only consider what Mr. Duff warned you,
that though Mrs. Mil ward is loving and friendly, and
the only woman in the world who couldn't say a
wrong thing if she was trying ; still she is not of the
true sort, and would say every thing that is bad
against our religion, for sure it is part of her trade,
as one may say."

" She never opened her lips to me about religion —
don't accuse her wrongfully. I only asked her what
I^asked Mr. Duff, and she resolved my question in

206 IRISHMEN AND

one moment, and gave me reasons for what she said,
that nobody can say against ; and which I will tell
you, Ned, when I think them over to myself, so that
I can explain them to your satisfaction."

" Don't bother yourself about me, dear. You know
I was ever slow in taking in book-knowledge — I am
willing to leave it to my superiors to have judgment
and understanding, and them sort of things, that a
man with his hands full of business couldn't be ex-
pected to see the good of."

" When I found there was truth in all she was say-
ing/' continued Mrs. Costigan, "it flashed upon me,
that Mr. Duff was far astray, and that the catechism
was a bundle of words, without much deep meaning ;
and that it was a wonder if our religion came from
God, that it could not appeal to his own word for
what it teaches, only in an odd place, here and there,
just to stop us from using our senses. That thought
had lately flitted once or twice through my mind,
and I put it away from me ; but now, here it is set-
tled," putting her hand to her head, " and it will
take more than a mouth-full of Latin prayers to get
it out."

"Oh! Sally, couldn't you crub your spirit, dear,
whatever you may think, and not talk against the
Latin ; for if we hadn't that, where would we turn
to, to be safe from the devil, who would know every
word the priest was saying, and spoil all, only he
can't understand him in that language ? But," he
continued, suddenly rising, " I must go to bed now,
being so sleepy that I can't for the life of me, keep
my eyes open. A little rest will do yourself good,
too, dear : it's all you want to banish them foolish

IRISHWOMEN. 207

thoughts, that the shaking you got over that bad bit
of the road, put into your head/'

Mr. Costigan was too seriously alarmed at the he-
retical sentiments of his wife, to trust to his recipe
for dispelling them ; yet he was at a loss what side
to turn to for assistance. Father Duff had so com-
pletely failed in his attempts to convince her, on the
first declaration of her opinions, that it was useless
to think of applying to him again ; he therefore, after
much deliberation, determined to call in a new auxi-
liary, in the person of Mr. O'Floggin, who was a
well-drilled controversialist, and had the credit of
lately making three converts to Popery — one, a drunk-
en pensioner, who had married a Roman Catholic
wife — another, a poor, broken-hearted woman, who
was convinced of the errors of Protestantism, by the
knock-em-down arguments of her Carmelite hus-
band; and the third, a lady of respectable connec-
tions, who fell in love with high mass while on a visit
to Paris. He was a little apprehensive, at first, of
the consequences of his interference, knowing ihe
mortal aversion she always expressed for the curate,
on account of his lording it over Mr. Duff; but the
emergency was pressing ; and, accordingly, the next
morning, instead of taking the direct road to the
market, he made the circuit of six additional miles
for the purpose of calling at the priest's house. It
was long before he could prevail upon himself to tell
the full extent of the mischief, or hint at any thing
that could be construed to her disadvantage. He
talked of her sense, and her goodness, and her read-
ing, and her grief, and the pestering she got with
Christian Rooney ; and the foolish thoughts that peo-

208 IRISHMEN AND

pie with too much knowledge often had ; and the ne-
cessity of having a softness of a sympathy in dealing
with one whose senses were not always in their right
place with over tender-heartedness; and the cau-
tiousness and crabbedness that ought to be used in
speaking to a woman, who more than himself said
could answer an almanack-maker, if she was put to
it ; till he bewildered himself so completely, that he
was obliged to commence his story over again, and
tell the plain, downright truth without any palliating
circumstance ; in the end, beseeching of the priest to
use all his skill to reclaim her to a dutiful way of
thinking. His request was readily acceded to by
O'Floggin ; and as no time was to be lost, it was
agreed that he should proceed at once to Kiladarne,
and on no account to let on that he had put him up
to it. The priest promised to keep his secret, and he
felt, for the moment, quite happy, at having managed
the business so cleverly, assuring him, as he took
leave, that his heart was quite empty of any uneasi-
ness now that he had put her into his hands.

Nevertheless, a little uneasiness lurked at the bot-
tom, which began to be troublesome during his ride
to Derrynaslieve, and which the hurry of the market
could not afterwards keep down. " I'm sure I did
right/' he repeated to himself as often as the thought
occurred to him — " maybe I did wrong ?" " He is a
powerful man," was another comforting reflection,
which might have done much for him, but for the
counter consideration — " To be sure, she hates him
worse nor a blackymoor." " Any way," he thought
again, " I'm glad they have it all to themselves, and
that I'm not in it; and now, not a think will I think

IRISHWOMEN. 209

about it any more. Though, after all/' reconsidered
he, " it might be better, every way, if I was there
only to sit by. She is hot, and one word from me
always cools her. He may be too hard upon her, and
she may want my help. Mr. Duff has a right to say
what he likes, but there is a differ between one and
another ; and a woman of her capabilities oughtn't
to be brow-beat by — I wish I hadn't been in such a
hurry — I wish I said to-morrow, instead of to-day —
I wish I was at home — what's to hinder me going at
once ? Home I will go, for little business is doing
here to-day/' Having come to this resolve, Wat
Delahunt was directed to carry back the oats, for
which there was no demand, and Mr. Costigan,
quickly mounting his horse, and spurring him into
a lively trot, reached home three hours before he was
expected.

Although he arrived in time to take a part in the
controversy, being informed by Tim, on his alighting,
that Mr. O'Floggin was in the parlour, and had been
there since twelve o'clock, he appeared in no hurry
to pay his compliments to his guest, but dawdled for
some time about the out-houses, giving sundry direc-
tions in a very confused manner ; and when he, at
last, got inside the kitchen-door, the sound of O'Flog-
gin's voice, pitched to a very loud, and as he thought,
angry key, caused him to make a precipitate retreat
again into the yard. To save appearances with Tim,
and the other boys, he began immediately to scold
them for doing what he had the moment before order-
ed to be done, till having thus gradually recovered a
certain degree of self-possession, he again entered the
house, and proceeded boldly towards the parlour

210 IRISHMEN AND

We don't like confessing that he stopped to listen at
the door — we choose rather to say, that he paused
there for a few seconds, before he put his hand upon
the lock. That pause gave him new life ; for Mrs.
Costigan was speaking in a gentle and subdued tone,
and the Priest answered without any perceptible
warmth. Ned was overjoyed. He suddenly opened
the door, and quite forgetting the preconcerted ac-
cident, betrayed himself at once, in the exuberance of
his self-congratulation.

" Well, dear/' he exclaimed, " you are not displeas-
ed with me, I see. Wasn't it more nor you expected,
that I would hit upon so elegant a plan for settling
all as it ought to be ?"

" Mr. Costigan," said the Priest, " you are out in
your reckoning, if you suppose she is likely to be
brought round to a sense of her duty. She is deter-
mined to have her own way, and I am grieved to the
heart to tell you, that it is the worst way she could
have taken."

" O dear ! O dear !" cried Ned, in despair.
" What's come over the world, at all ? and what will
I do, to mend what is beyant my cure ?"

"It is best never to meddle, Ned, dear, with what
is only between the conscience and Him that is high
above all," said Mrs. Costigan. " I know you did it
all for the best, and I am not displeased with any
thing you could do, was it ever so trying to my tem-
per. The only thing that troubles me in it is, that I
promised Mr. Duff, to open my mind to him first, and
he will think I broke my word with him, when he
understands how it is from this gentleman."

" It isn't to Mr Duff J will make my complaint,"

IRISHWOMEN. 2J I

said the coadjutor. " I will go straight to the
Bishop, and clear myself of having any hand in your
downfall."

" Go any way is pleasing to yourself, Mr. O'Flog-
gin — straight or crooked, as your fancy leads you —
and if one Bishop won't serve your turn — why, tell it
to two, and more after that, if your tongue likes the
exercise. But don't try to lessen your superior, by
putting blame on him, which he don't deserve. How
could he guess what was close locked up in my own
mind ? And when he did come at some of it, he was
as anxious as you could be for my good. He had
as much reason too on his side, though not so many
turnings and twinings, to hide the straight road from
my eyes."

(< Somebody is to blame," said the priest, looking
solemnly at Ned. " And I must say, Mr Costigan,
that you behaved very imprudent in allowing her to
read books, and keep company, that could only lead
a foolish woman astray."

" I had no foolish woman to deal with, Mr. O'Flog-

gin, but one that always had as much discretion as

no matter who ; and I don't think it becoming in a
gentleman to come into my 'house, only to throw fool-
ishness in my wife's face."

" No offence, I hope," said O'Floggin. " But what
am I to say to her, when she tells me she will pick
up a new religion for herself, out of the Bible, and
won't listen to the commands of the Church ?"

" Sally, Sally, what's come over you, dear ?"

" If by the Church, you mean yourself, Mr. O'Flog-
gin, and the like of you, I will not listen to your com-
mands : and if I am obliged, as you say, to pick out

212 IRISHMEN AND

a religion for myself, where would I be likely to find
a good one so soon as in the Bible ?"

" You hear that, Mr. Costigan ! She sets up the
Bible before the Church, even though I told her be-
fore you came in, that Saint Augustine says, he would
not believe the Gospel, except on the authority of the
Church."

" What will become of us, and where will it all
end ?" cried Ned. " Oh ! Sally— think of St. Au-
gustine— a saint and a holy man, and and every

thing I suppose that is good/'

Mrs. Costigan smiled. " There is no harm, Ned,
in supposing the best of him, whoever he was — which
is more than you or I know ; and I don't fault his
saying much, so far as I understand it, as I told this
gentleman, not many minutes ago — arid I repeat it
again, Mr. O'Floggin, that neither would I think it
safe to believe any thing on my own judgment, at
this hour of the day, that was not believed by the
Church, from the days of Christ, and which had ne-
ver been heard of till I found it out, all by myself."

" Then why don't you submit to the commands
of the Church, if you think so well of it."

" I will, Mr. O'Floggin, when I find out what it is,
and where it is."

<c And isn't the matter easily settled, then, dear ?"
said her husband. " For sure, don't you know that
the Priest is our Church ?"

" No, Ned ; I have your own catechism against
you for that. It says, that the true Church is the
congregation of the faithful. And how can one man
be a whole congregation, Ned ?"

" It would be hard for him, Sally, if he wasn't a

IRISHWOMEN. 213

conjuror, and I'd be sorry to have to do with card-
cutters, or merry- andrews, or any of their sort."

" This is all nonsense/' said the Priest, " proud as
you are of your ingenuity. You think you have made
a mighty fine discovery ; and after all, what can you
make of it?

" Why, Sir, that if the Church is the congregation
of the faithful, you don't appear to belong to it, and
I don't, or did not, till yesterday, belong to it, (if I
do now,) and that I never saw one of my own profes-
sion that had the marks of it about them."

"What do you think of that?" asked O'Floggin,
turning triumphantly to Costigan.

" Don't be frightened, Ned — I will make it plain to
you, that I am not talking nonsense. What are the
faithful but people that believe ? And what are they
to believe, but what God says to them ? Mr O'Flog-
gin won't deny that, only he says we ought to take it
all from the lips of the Priest. Well, I will take it
from him, and be thankful to him for it ; but he
won't give it — he never gave it — I believe he don't
know it, and the poor people under his teaching can't
know it — and how can they be called the congrega-
tion of the faithful ? And how can I submit to be
judged by them, who have no judgment ?"

"You submit !" exclaimed Ned. " It would be a
fine thing, indeed, if a woman like you was to be
schooled and outfaced in knowledge, by the tag-rag
of the chapel, every Sunday."

" The very arguments you think so fine, are those
of all heretics and schismatics," said the Priest; "and
what is the end of them ? The Protestants in Ger-
many are all turned infidels, once they set up private

214 IRISHMEN AND

judgment as their God ; and many of the Protestants
in this country are not better. So stop a little in
your new course, I advise you, till you think where it
may lead you."

" It cannot lead me to more infidelity than my old
notions found me in. Do you know, Sir, that I often
doubted if there was a God at all; and a clap of
thunder, or a threatening of sickness, did more to
convince me in that way, than all the religion that
ever a Priest performed in a hundred masses. Then,
what was my belief at the best of times ? It was,
that through your means, I hoped to cheat God, and
steal into heaven ; and I wished, when I was most
religious, that he would have nothing to do with me,
but let me die quietly, body and soul, and not be
threatening me with another world, good or bad."

" Somebody has been to blame, all along — I see
that, and"

" Mr. O'Floggin," she cried, interrupting him with
an impatient wave of her arm, " you are to blame —
you are the most to blame of any that ever spoke to
me on the matter ; for all that you have been saying,
has made me more sure that you are wrong; and
that little can be said on your side. You have never
answered a question, without running away to things
that don't belong to it, and telling me what this one
says, and what that one wrote, and never keep close
to what God says. You ask me how I could make
an act of faith — I make it on his word, Sir, and I
won't delay doing so, till you give him a character.
You put me off, by asking how I would answer a
Sociriian, when I want you to answer me: and you
talk of Henry the Eighth, and Queen Elizabeth, as

IRISHWOMEN. 215

if true religion must be a bad thing, because they
had some of it, by times, in their mouths. You
might as well tell me, that my new black velvet bon-
net would be turned into an old felt caubeen, if
Christian Rooney put it on her head. Now, that is
foolish. It might not look so well on her as on
another, but the stuff would be still the same."

" Every word that you say has sense upon it, in
black and white/' said her husband : ft but I hope,
dear, that you won't lend it to her for the patron, as
you lent your shawl to poor Ileen, who was another
entirely. Why, she would be a show to the world,
and she would die of pride before she got as far as
Alice O'Neil's. Now, didn't I tell you, Mr. O'Flog-
gin, you'd be hard set to find words for her. Oh ! if
you could only hear how she bothers Mr. Duff, a
man that can speak French as well as I speak Eng-
lish, you'd have gone to your books before you
ventured to give her instruction."

" You have small reason to be proud of her, or
yourself either," said the Priest, losing his temper at
the implied inferiority to his rector ; ' ' and if you
had the spirit of a Christian, you would take exam-
ple by Jemmy Milady, who, when his wife would
not follow him the right way, put her out at once,
and is going as a pilgrim through the world, till he
spends in that kind of penance the same number of
years that he lived with her."

" Do I understand your Reverence, that it is your
advice to me to put Sally out of my house."

" How do I know whether her name is Sally, or
what it is ? I mean that you ought to part that wo-
man there, till she mends her manners."

216 IRISHMEN AND

" Her manners never displeased me, Sir ; then why
would I ask her to change them ? I wouldn't know
her other than she is, and I am too old now to cotton
to new acquaintances. Ah ! what do you make of
me, Sir?" he added, with increased displeasure of
voice and manner, " to put me on a par with Jemmy
Milady; or what business is it of your's, to come
between a man and his nature. Look at that woman,
Sir. She and I have lived together twenty-nine
years, in love and good-liking : we had our trouble
but it didn't come on us by our drawing contrary to
one another; and though it was sore, and though it
was heavy, we bore it together ; and with the bles-
sing of God, we'll not part, come what may, till He
that joined us gives the order for dividing us, and
then we can't contradict His bidding."

" You are contradicting his bidding as fast as you
can, both one and the other of you," said the Priest ;
" and there is no use in throwing away good advice
upon you."

" Well, Sir, if we are so bad, leave us to our bad-
ness, seeing we won't mend. You told me already,
that I had not the feeling of a Christian. Well,
maybe I havn't, but I have the feeling of one of God's
creatures, with a heart in my body, and I am ashamed
at a man of your description, expressing yourself as
if it was a stone wall you were talking to. Sally,
would you believe me if I opened the door for you,
and told you to be a stranger to me for ever ? No,
you wouldn't, dear. This house is your own house,
and you have a right to say what you please in it,
arid what you don't please; and my heart is sorer nor
it felt this many-a-day, for putting you in the way of

IRISHWOMEN. 217

hearing words that don't become you, and that no
other man dar to say to you, in my presence."

(f I came at your own desire, Mr. Costigan," said
O'Floggin, " and I'll not come again in a hurry, till
I'm sent for more than once. I was a fool to leave
all the business I had to come on such an errand,
wasting my time, and having to listen to more non-
sense than I heard for the last seven years."

ef Hollo ! you there in the kitchen!" called out
Costigan. " One of you tell Tim to bring round Mr.
O'Floggin's horse, and be smart, for the gentleman
is in a hurry. Let me help you on with your settoo
Sir — I believe it's a little tight in the sleeves. I am
sorry to be after giving you so much trouble, and to
put you out of your way. But you had no loss of the
market, if you didn't want to buy, for it was ruining
to the country. — A gentleman never left this house
before without breaking his fast, and if you stop
— well, well, Sir, it can't be helped — That lock is pee-
vish— let me open it — I know the knack — Tim, can't
you hold the stirrup for the gentleman properly. — A
good morning to you, Sir, or, better to say, good even-
ing; but the day passed so oddly to me, that if a man
was to tell me it was grey day-light in 4he morning,
I would'nt know how to contradict him."

218 IRISHMEN AND

CHAPTER XIV.

BEING rather at a loss how to begin this chapter, we
shall take the liberty of copying three pages of note
paper, closely crossed, from Miss Thorndale to Dora
Milward, about a fortnight after Mr. O'Floggin's con-
troversy with Mrs. Costigan.

c( At last I have a spare moment to dedicate to
friendship and my dearest Dora. Do not be surprised
at the unusual sentimentality of my style. There are
good reasons for it, as you will confess, when you
are informed of the sad truth, that, within the last
half-hour, I have bid adieu, perhaps for ever, to Lord
Farnmere. c Farewell, a long farewell to all my
greatness.' Indeed, I might leave out the c perhaps/
when I say f for ever ;' for though we, that is, the
whole family, dared to do all that was becoming in
man or woman, our darings and doings ended in no-
thing— I shall never be the Viscountess Farnmere.

fe Poor man' ! we were delighted to get rid of him ;
and he was heartily tired of us all, before he was pro-
nounced fit to travel. During the three weeks that
he was confined to the sofa, with a sprained ancle, his
dissatisfaction was expressed in a thousand little fas-
tidiousnesses, bordering sometimes, within an hair's
breadth, on absolute rudeness ; and he tolerated our
civilities evidently for no other reason, than that he
could not escape from them. It was too apparent
that he felt his situation pretty much as you, for in-

IRISHWOMEN. 219

stance, might be supposed to be affected, were you
obliged by dire necessity to spend some time in an
Esquimaux hut, surrounded by good-natured sava-
ges, and soot, and blubber, and train oil. I give yon
due credit for patience, and forbearance, and all the
cardinal virtues ; together with that most useful qua-
lity, the making the best of every thing ; but still you
must allow the situation to be deplorable, and that
it would be impossible at all times to conceal your
disgust from your harum-scarum hosts, however well-
meant their clumsy attentions might be. We must
not therefore, be too hard upon Lord Farnmere, par-
ticularly when we take into consideration the fact,
that good breeding, at least so much of it as consists
in respecting the feelings of others, is not the most
prominent feature in the English character. I have
not blundered upon this discovery myself, otherwise
I might be afraid to hint it, even to you ; but I have
seen it in print, typed and stereotyped : I have read
it as the opinion of foreigners, and it has been can-
didly allowed by good authorities among themselves.
Now, this is a defect which I wish our neighbours,
for their own sakes, as well as for our's, would try
and mend : for they really play such fantastic tricks in
their bearing to us of the land of potatos, as to move
our laughter when they intend to strike us dumb with
admiration. In the name of all my countrymen and
countrywomen, I acknowledge them to be, as a peo-
ple, far, far above us in the scale of civilization, but I
protest against being fixed at the very fag end of hu-
manity, which they would persuade us to be our pro-
per station. And while I admit their superiority, na-
tionallyj I cannot allow every individual Englishman

L 2

220 IRISHMEN AND

or Englishwoman, to be necessarily superior to every
individual Irishman or Irishwoman. I will also con-
fess, that they could teach us many things, which it
would be well for us to learn ; and we will gladly put
ourselves to school, provided our kind instructors will
first take the trouble to inform themselves of the real
extent of our ignorance, and will, in all cases, confine
their instruction to what they are individually com-
petent to teach. Do you remember Mrs. Major Cut-
tlefish ? Was she superior to mamma in any thing ex-
cept her receipts for mock- turtle and sponge cake ?
Yet on the strength of these two receipts, she medi-
tated a revolution in every department of the state of
Charlesborough ; and domineered over my poor mo-
ther, to such a degree, that she would net venture at
last to wheel the sofa towards the fire without her
approbation, lest it might be construed into an Irish
hugger-mugger custom. In one lecture on genteel
economy, such as Lady Harrowgate practised, she
had half persuaded her to metamorphose her old green
satin cloak into a gown for me ; arid in another lec-
ture on propriety of speech, absolutely frightened her
into saying e naughty child/ instead of ( bold child/
Her soup and cake we swallowed, for they really were
excellent ; and we still speak of her with respect and
gratitude, as far as these articles are concerned, but
we stoutly resisted every innovation for which a good
reason could not be given. I protested, at once,
against the cloak — first, because I did not want a
gown ; secondly, because I could afford to buy one ;
thirdly, because it would be shabby and dishonest to
take her lawful perquisite from Mrs. Carrol, who had
been expecting it for the last year and a half; and,

IRISHWOMEN. 221

fourthly, because Mrs. Major Cuttlefish was very im-
pertinent to interfere with Lady Thorndale and her
family. Then Henry, my Eaton-and-Oxford brother,
attacked her with literal meanings, and derivations,
and synonymous terms, and roots, and analogies, &c.
&c. &c. till he proved to our full satisfaction, that
'bold' was a much more proper term to apply to a
wayward child, than f naughty'— the one term clearly
expressing all that could be meant in such a case,
while the other might mean a great deal more ; and
that so far from it being a holiday and lady-like mode
of expression, as she would have us suppose, it was
adopted by a kind of good-natured slip-slop courtesy,
with cpin-a-fore' and 'put him on a frock/ and e she
was laying in her cot/ from the slang vocabulary of
nursery-maids, and such like well-educated gentry —
and that if ladies and gentlemen condescended to
take pattern by them, for their own private conveni-
ence, they have no right to force their barbarisms up-
on us, who, truth to tell, have a tolerably competent
share of our own."

" What shall I do ? I have vented my indignation
against Lord Farnmere and Mrs. Cuttlefish over so
much paper, that I have not left myself room to say
half the civil things my mother desired me, in answer
to Mrs. Milward's kind note. Th-e sum and substance
of them, however, is this — that Lady Thorndale, and
Mr. George Thorndale, and your humble servant, are
very glad to be asked to Rathedmond ; that we shall
be with you at five o'clock, and purpose remaining
till Saturday, unless my father should return before
that day. You will, I am sure, excuse this incohe-
rent scrawl, when I subscribe myself your ever af-

222 IRISHMEN AND

fectionate, though forlorn., forsaken, and heart-broken
cousin,

" HARRIET THORNDALE, alias

Green Stockings.

" P. S. I hope you remember the young lady
who figures so conspicuously in one of the Polar Voy-
ages."

Miss Thorndale' s sketch of Lord Farnmere might
be somewhat caricatured; but on the whole, it was
a tolerably good likeness. If it could be said that
he ever used any exertion during his stay in Ireland,
it was to make himself disagreeable, and he succeed-
ed to admiration in this easiest of all undertakings.
Nobody liked him — nobody admired him — not even
Conolly Fitzcarrol, who, after practising at home for
some days, could not venture upon a wholesale imi-
tation— a detached piece of his lordship was all that
he could make his own, and that only on particular
occasions, such as a morning visit to the glebe, when
the ladies were alone, or an interview with a tenant
of his father's, who happened to be behind hand with
his rent. Lady Thorndale was civil and well-bred to
the last, though, like bluff King Hal's poor queen,
often " vexed past her patience." Sir Ralph, also,
was imperturbable, and the young people, who disco-
vered that he had a very delicate ear for music, and
who were themselves excellent musicians, generously
passed by his innumerable impertinences, and con-
trived to get up a very respectable concert every
evening for his amusement. But towards the end of
his visit, Miss Thorndale had an attack of nervous-
ness, which seized her unaccountably the moment she

IRISHWOMEN. 223

sat down to the harp., and affected her so oddly, that
she was always a bar and a half before her sister,
who made many laudable, though unsuccessful sa-
crifices of time in her efforts to overtake her on the
piano forte. Her fingers might fly quick as lightn-
ing over the keys, but the harp would still maintain
its vantage ground ; and Master George Thorndale,
who accompanied them on the bass viol, as if afraid
of disobliging either of his sisters, kept time with
neither, but played his own part straight forward, till
the discord often gave more pain to Lord Farnmere
thanjiis sprained ancle.

Perhaps nobody resented his manifold misdemean-
ors more than Willy Geraghty, as one after another
came to his knowledge, through the various channels
by which he contrived to pick up his information.
He cordially forgave the repulse he had met with,
when he tendered his civilities at the Carragh ; for,
as he said, an apology was made, and what could a
gentleman require more ? But he was interested in
every body's business more than his own ; and so
many were aggrieved, either by being overlooked en-
tirely, or having too much notice taken of them, in
the way of refusing their requests, that he could
think and talk of nothing else.

ff He is the greatest nagur I ev<j>r heard of, besides
being stupid and ill-mannered," said he to WatDela-
hunt, who had taken shelter under the same hedge
with him from a shower, and to whom he unburdened
his whole mind in the absence of a more respectable
auditor. " His agent told me that he pocketed every
shilling of the May rent, and skrewed the arrears out
of the unfortunate tenants, to the tune of eight thou-

224 IRISHMEN AND

sand pounds, Irish money. And what do you think
he left after him for the poor ? Just fifteen pounds,
to be divided between the three parishes of Rathed-
mond, Liscormack, and Knockmandown ! I told Mr.
Milward that I would have thrown his dirty five
pound note in his face, before I would be under a
compliment for such a trifle/*

"As for that, Sir," said Wat, "five pounds will
be a good help to the poor, these hard times."

" But did you hear, Wat, how he treated Mr. My-
ars, when he went to him about a school at Knock-
nafushogue? He made him repeat the name ten
times over, and then he made him spell it, and then
he made him write it down ; and after giving him all
that trouble, he gave him nothing else, but said there
was an act of Parliament to make the parsons keep
all the schools in Ireland, and that they ought to do
their duty."

"It was my grandfather built that old house at
Knocknafushogue, where Paddy Rappery lives," said
Wat.

" Oh ! what use is there to talk about our grand-
fathers, Wat ? People that never had one are more
thought of now-a-days than their betters, if they have
a long purse, no matter how they came by it. If you,
my poor boy, were your grandfather, and if I was my

own grandfather but there's no help for spilt

milk — and let it rest there. Do you know the remark
he made upon a compliment was paid him by Cap-
tain Dartry, Lady Thorndale's brother, a member of
parliament, and first cousin to Lord Dunseveric ?
The Captain gave him his beautiful bay mare to go
to see Lord Colverston, when the spring of his phse-

IRISHWOMEN. 225

ton was mending; and that day at dinner Lady
Thorndale asked him, out of a piece of civility, how-
he went to Traifield House — and what was his an-
swer ? ' Somebody,' says he, ' lent me a horse,' — and
the Captain sitting opposite to him all the while. I
leave it to you — was that manners, Wat ?"

" It's no manners to fault any man's baste, to my
mind," answered Wat, f€ and by the same token, Mr.
Geraghty, that grey filly of yours is a rale beauty."

" Is'nt she, Wat ? I'm proud to eay, her match
could'nt be had in the three kingdoms ; and for that
reason I called her Rob Roy, after Sir Walter Scott,
who, Mrs. Falconer told me, is the greatest man in
all England. But, talking of horses, Wat — isn't that
a curious thing that's all through the country, about
Ned Costigan putting Priest O'Floggin out of the
house, and herself going to turn Protestant ? Will
she go to church next Sunday, do you think ?"

4f Not at all, Sir; they had only a bit of a wrangle,
which she is fond of, to show her edication and read-
ing. Why she often, as I can hear, leaves Father
Duff without a word to say for himself; and it never
spoils their friendship for one another. The clouds is
breaking fast," he added quickly, looking over the
hedge, (( and I hope we will have a fine evening after
all/'

" I like your discretion, Wat, for not being in a
hurry to speak of what passes in your master's house;
but it is no secret, boy. The bishop called a meeting
of his clergy about it, and was stark staring mad.
Mr. Duff, and one or two others, got a rap over the
knuckles for letting their flock be stolen from them
by the ministers."

L 3

226 IRISHMEN AND

" He needn't be so outrageous for all the harm has
been done," said Delahunt. fe He ought to remem-
ber that if two or three misguided poor creatures
sold themselves for gain, that we got two for one in
their place, from your side, and people of responsibi-
lity and credit, too/'

ee I believe all the arithmetic you ever learned was
the multiplication table, Wat. But there is a rule
called subtraction, which you would do well to learn,
before you expose yourself by miscounting. Haven't
we thirteen born Romans going to church, and can you
reckon more than three turning their backs upon it ?
Now, take thirteen from threa — no — take three from
thirteen, and what is your remainder, Wat ?"

fe Keep them, and make much of them, Mr. Geragh-
ty," answered Wat, with perfect good humour, ' e let
them be many or few — but don't you think we may
count a lady like Miss Carberry, against a hundred
such riff-raff?"

ec Not a bit of her, Wat : she belonged to ourselves
before her mother was born. She had the bad drop
in her by the grandmother, who was of the family of
the Dunduckedies — a people that it was hard ever to
find out the colour of their religion ; and the mad-
ness came by the Furlygigs, a very ancient and re-
spectable English family, that settled here with Oli-
ver Cromwell — and drank themselves out of the
world, men and women, faster than they could come
into it. So between the failings of both the grand-
mothers, it would be a natural impossibility for a Car-
berry ever to be right, but by a mistake. Few mis-
takes, to tell the truth of them, they ever made ; and
I never wondered more at any thing, than how a

IRISHWOMEN. 227

young creature, come of her stock, could have lived
eight and twenty years in the world, and do nothing
before to prove her pedigree. Why, man alive ! the
whole lot of them, root and branch, had not as much
learning between them as would make an apothecary.
So, proud as you are of her, Wat, we will toss you
eleven more Carberrys into the bargain with her ; and
after all, we will not let you count more than half a
one for the whole dozen."

" But what will you allow us, Sir, for Mr. Ogland-
by, the handsome young gentleman who was on a
visit to the Carragh last year, and left his pony with
Miss Dora ? They say he likes the old religion best,
and has parted his family and friends for the sake of
his soul."

Willy was taken by surprise, and answered at ran-
dom. " Is it young Rupert Oglandby you mean — that
wild young scamp, that was always reading Greek,
and talking of the Romans ? Jt was the old Romans
he meant, Wat, and not the spalpeens that took their
name afterwards. You don't know the difference,
but I do. Julius Csesar was king of the one, and
young Bonaparte was king of the other. He wouldn't
do such a thing for a mine of gold ; and if he did it,
it was only to take in the Jesuits, and have a laugh
at them in the end. But supposing he did it, what
great matter about a foolish boy — the youngest son,
and one that was always getting into scrapes, and

.now, I am wrong — it's a bad thing to sconce

the truth : it is not what a gentleman ought to do —
above all, it is not what a man would be expected to
do, who looks to the God of truth. Arid, Wat, I beg
your pardon for trying to lead you astray ; and I beg

228 IRISHMEN AND

his pardon/* raising his hat from his head, " who says
we should not do harm that good may come. Yes,
Wat, that line young man — for he is a fine young
man, and a good young man, and mild, and gentle,
and true to his word, and honourable as a king's son
— has struck hands with the Pope, and now uses all
his Greek and Latin for nothing, but to rummage out
excuses for him, and to defend him for burning, right
and left, all that won't obey his orders/'

" They say, too," said Wat, " that other grand
gentlemen, with college learning, to show them what
is right, have gone his way ; and this is what makes
me judge, Sir, that we can't be so wrong as some in
this country would persuade us."

Willy was again at a loss. He shook his head, and
then brushed one cuff with the other ; and then shook
his head again. At length he looked his companion
steadily in the face.

" The devil would tempt me, Wat, to disparage
them and their learning for my own ends ; and it is
as much as I can do, to hinder myself from trying to
make you believe I know more about these things
than I do. But I won't — I'll stick to honesty, in spite
of pride and shame. You see, Wat, it's but lately
(more shame to my grey hairs !) that I thought about
God at all ; and though I know I hare truth on my
side, a clever fellow would soon leave me without a
word, particularly when I am proud of myself as I
was a minute ago."

"A man must either have learning himself," said
Wat, " or look to them that has it, or I believe he
would make but a poor hand of religion ?"

" With or without it, Wat, we would all make a

IRISHWOMEN. 229

poor hand of it, if we are too proud to take it, just
as it comes to us in the Bible, fresh from God. It
has often puzzled myself, why learning won't always
lead a man right, seeing it is so useful for the world ;
but whatever is the reason, it don't do it. When our
blessed Lord came to teach, all the learned people set
their faces against him, and said his religion was not
true ; and you know, Wat, that it was true. I am
afraid you will think I want to cry down learning,
since I told you how small a part of it fell to my
share; but even if you do, I must tell you what
strikes my mind, that religion don't depend upon it
at all — and why ? Because the poor and the ignorant
have as good right to it as their betters. Saint Paul,
who gives us to understand that he was a well-read
man, left all his learning behind him, when he went
to preach the Gospel ; and if he ever brings it in, at
times, his meaning is clear and plain to all, which
differs from the learning of these times, that makes
what is dark, darker to them who have not the light
of God's word."

" I like what you say very well, Mr. Geraghty,"
said Wat, " and if the rain wasn't over, I didn't care
how long I stopped talking to you — not that you or
any other man could talk me out of my religion. —
Don't be offended, Sir, but I am sure it is the best,
and will have the upper hand, sometime or other."

" Whoever lives longest will see most, Wat, pro-
vided he has his eye-sight. But though I think dif-
ferently, and though I have no respect for your reli-
gion, still I have a friendship for yourself, and would
be glad to see you" a prosperous man. Ah ! Wat,
keep out of the way of that fellow coming down the

230 IRISHMEN AND

road there. If he don't mend, he'll have a rope about
his neck yet; and take care that he does not tie the
knot for you, too."

Mr. Geraghty turned away ; and Wat, as if mean-
ing to take his advice, jumped quickly over the hedge,
but the moment he was out of sight, he again regain-
ed the road, and walked along at a very slow pace, till
Connel St. Leger overtook him.

The greeting between the two friends was more
cordial than on any interview since the affair at the
grove. St. Leger spoke in his usual lively and unem-
barrassed manner, and instead of making an excuse
to take different ways, proposed to go the longest
road, to have more of each other's company. Poor
Delahunt's heart overflowed with joy. He stopped,
and, putting his hand on his companion's shoulder,
said, " This is something like old times, when who-
ever was two, you and I, Connel, was all as one as
one. And now tell me, lad, what made you make
strange with me, this ever so long, and shun my com-
pany, as if I was your enemy ?"

" Where was I to find you ?" asked the other —
" Would you have me go to Ned Costigan's place ? a
man that offended me more nor once to my face, and
never stops abusing me behind my back. What
brought you so low in the world, that you must turn
servant-boy to the like of him, and shame your peo-
ple, and them that wish you well ?"

" You might guess, Connel, what drove me to take
shelter under a safer roof nor my own. I was in dread
of the country. Don't look startled, for I had good
reasons for it. Not a man would bid God bless my
work, and even yourself changed entirety ; and all for

*

IRISHWOMEN. 231

no cause : for if you tore the heart out of my body
this minute, you would find no thing in it that wasn't
true and loyal to all, and loving, and well-inclined as
ever, to yourself/'

" You had no need to dread the people, but they
had a good right to dread you ; for I may as well tell
you, Wat, that all the water that falls from the sky
wouldn't wash you clean from treachery. As sure as
that blessed sun is going down behind Slieve Ronan,
you betrayed our secret to that elf, Lanty M'Grail."

" I did not, Connel. He knew it, as he knows all
that passes in the country. The grass can't grow
without his hearing it, and he can read a man's looks
quicker nor you would understand his words. I don't
want to clear myself of trying to save her — I was po-
sitive about that ; and if it was to do again, I'd do
it. Before I consented to take part with you, that
evening, when the blood-thirsty hounds would show
no mercy to the innocent, I took an oath to myself,
that I would save her life, though 1 was hung for it.
I didn't know how to do it, till he threw himself in
my way, and gave me to understand that he knew we
had work on our hands. I only whispered it to him,
that it would be better if she stayed at home, and he
took my meaning, and promised that if he ham-strung
the horses, or did any thing desperate, she shouldn't
go to Charlesborough. I left it to him, for he had
more schemes of his own nor my head could contrive;
and he kept his word. I didn't leave myself trusting
to chance neither. My mind was made up, that if he
didn't bring me the news before seven o'clock that she
was out of danger, to go at once to her father, and
tell him to take care of his child that night, if ever he

232

IRISHMEN AND

expected to have her arms round his neck again ; and
then I would have warned you all what I had done ;
arid if you were fixed to run into danger I would have
stood by you to the last, once she was out of harm's
way/'

"And you don't call that betraying us ?" said St.
Leger, with a sneer.

" No, Connel ; I would tell no tales, nor give no
reason for what I said to the parson, more than that
I had a good one. They might do their worst after,
to make me speak out ; but if it came to hanging, not
a man of you should come to trouble by me."

Connel bit his lips.— " The only thing the people
says is, that a man ought to keep his oath, whatever
it is ; and that they don't know how to trust one with
two minds."

" That don't hit me, Connel, never having but one.
The oath I took was to join in whatever was for the
good of the country — at least, that was the way it
was explained to me by Mulvaney, and the other pol-
Hssed villains, for I can call them no better. Well ;
I did their commands, even when I could see no good
in them. I would have shot Mr. Oglandby, because
it was plainly part of my oath to rid the country of
his sort ; but what man, barring a brute, would show
me the good in murdering her, who has the blessing
of old and young to track her steps, wherever she
goes ? And you know, Connel, that the very people
who are angry with me now for not aiming at her life,
would have cursed us in our graves, if she was car-
ried home a corpse to her father's door."

" The people only says," still persisted Connel,
." that when a man's hand is in for it, a trifle oughtn't

IRISHWOMEN. 233

discourage him ; and that it is hard to guess what one
is at, when saying and doing goes by contraries."

" They won't be long at the trouble of guessing
about me, Connel. I'll be far over the sea, before this
day comes round in May. The first ship that sails
for America, once the days are any length, will carry
myself and my mother far from friends and enemies
for ever/'

"Are you in earnest, Wat?"

" Aye, Connel. Oh ! sure, sure, I would rather stay
in my own beautiful country, that there is no compar-
ing with all under heaven besides, and where all my
forefathers laid their bones, than go to the finest king-
dom, though silver and gold might come down from
the sky as thick as flakes of snow. But Ireland is no
place for a boy that would keep a clean breast, and
sleep the night through, without dreams to scar his
senses — I never willingly wrought with their uncom-
mon doings. It took all my love for you to drag me
from one thing to another, till we went farther, Con-
nel, nor I fear the priest will be willing to take on his
own responsibility; and the last that was laid on me,
gave me a turn against wickedness that I can't get
the better of: so I'll try a strange place, where there
is no need for the poor to make laws, which is all the
fault I have to ourselves. It has been in my head,
too, this many a day," he added, putting his hand
affectionately on his friend's shoulder, "to flatter you
along with us, Connel. We two would make our way
from one end of the world to the other, if we were
put to it. We have strong arms that labour couldn't
tire, and we have light hearts that wouldn't easily
sink, if nothing but hardship pressed on them. And

234 IRISHMEN AND

what a joyful hour it would be to me, to have you by
my side, in a place where we might hold up our heads,
and look every man in the face, without fearing what
they might lay to our charge/'

" I can do that where I am, Wat, so I needn't cross
the salt sea to get courage. I have a strong pair of
arms, no doubt of it, but they get plenty to do at
home, and more nor their lawful share, while them in
the big houses let theirs dangle by their sides. You'd
soon have to bury me if I took to your way. Labour
and quietness would never do with me : I must have
a turn of sport, and a little bit of mischief now and
then, to keep life warm within me. Besides, my boy,
I have better prospects at home ; and I'll wait here
till my lucky hour comes round upon the dial."

" That may never come, Connel ; and what a way
will your soul be in if you miss a good place in the
next world, even supposing you get all you want in
this ?"

" Troth, Wat, I can't say I have over-strong friend-
ship for my soul, never having seen it to my know-
ledge, and not knowing what it is, or where it lives,
or any thing about it. Let it take care of itself, and
go to America with you, or any where else it pleases.
It is my body I look to, for I know it, and have a
liking for it, and I am bound in duty to provide for it,
just as it takes a fancy."

" I don't mind you," said Delahunt : " I know you
only want to draw me into an argument, to have a
laugh at me in the end."

St. Leger imprecated a thousand curses upon him-
self, if he was not speaking the sentiments of his
heart. " The only fault I could ever see in you, Wat,

IRISHWOMEN. 235

was religion. It has done you harm already, and it
will do you more,, if you don't drop it. Leave it to
your mother and all the old women, who want em-
ployment for their knees. We were born to stand on
our feet, and walk up and down, as we choose, and
ask nobody's leave for what we do. Religion does
very well for Terry Mulvaney to throw in, when he
comes across a votcheen like you, that won't do any
work till the priest blesses it first ; but he laughs at
it, and he laughs at you for being so easy out-witted.
I'll tell you all my mind about it, at once, Wat, that
you needn't waste your breath with advising me. I
only hate the Protestants because they won't join us
in putting down the laws, and I hate the parsons be-
cause they have houses, and lands, and living, with-
out working for them. But when we get shut of
them, will we let the priests step into their shoes ?
Will we bale the clean water out of the well, only to
let the dirty puddle run into it ? No, no, Wat ; we
know a trick worth two of that. If they are upset-
ting, we'll whistle them after their brother black
coats ; and if they don't go at a word, maybe they
will with a blow."

" Try your fortune with me, in America, Connel ;
there, I hear, religion won't come in your way, if you
don't look for it."

" Stop," said his friend ; ' f I see Ned Costigan stand-
ing on the double ditch, and I am not in the humour,
this minute, of bidding him the time of the day. I
hate him ; and if you had such a love for me as you
say, you would send a lump of a stone after his ugly
head, sooner nor turn shoe-boy to one of his stamp."
' ( Shoe-boy !" cried Wat, indignantly ; but repress-

236 IRISHMEN AND

ing his rising spirit, he offered his hand to St. Leger :
" There's not a man living I would put before you,
Connel ; and time was you would say the same of
me. Let that time come back, as it ought, and let
us be once more friends, and let us promise that no-
thing will put between us again."

Connel shook him by the hand. — " I was jealous of
you, Wat, but I see I was wrong ; and from this out
we are better friends than ever. Don't be afraid of
the boys, I'll set all right between you and them.
We'll have many a pleasant day together yet, Wat."

IRISHWOMEN. 237

CHAPTER XV.

WHEN St. Leger parted from his friend, he struck
off into the fields, and followed a path for about a mile
and a quarter, which led him to a farm-house, the
residence of Mr. Terence Mulvaney. The ostensible
cause of this late visit, was to procure a sample of
oats for somebody who wanted to purchase a quanti-
ty ; but the real motive was to tell him the result of
his interview with Delahunt. Mulvany listened at-
tentively to the recital, which Connel gave verbatim,
with the exception of the epithet pollissed, applied to
himself, and in the end, expressed his conviction that
they had nothing to fear from him.

Mulvaney shook his head : " I draw another con-
clusion from you, Connel. I see through his scheme
at once, and it is a deep one. He will keep quiet
till coming on the assizes, and then, when we are off
our guard, he will inform against us all ; hang us all ;
pocket the eight hundred pounds reward ; and go off
to America, to live like a gentleman on his ill-got
gains."

tc If there is truth in man/' said St. Leger, " he
don't mean it. Didn't I tell you, how every word he
said to me had friendship in it ? Didn't I tell you
that he wanted me to go to America with him, and
that he has no look out but labour to live by, when
he gets there ?"

" He put his finger in your eye, till his scheme was

238 IRISHMEN AND

ripe. A soft word, I see, Connel, can make a fool of
you, as it has of many a fine fellow before you. He
told you how strong his love was for you ; he will
shew it by putting you out of harm's way ; and he
can be at no loss for a friend, having money enough
to buy ten in your place."

e( But what staggers me, Mr. Mulvaney, is, why
he didn't inform again us before, if he is the traitor
you take him for?"

" Because he hadn't his lesson pat, till he got a
good schoolmaster — Ned Costigan is his adviser.
From the minute Lord Colverston raised the alarm,
and made Government offer money in addition to the
large reward offered by the Oglandby faction, I could
hear how them two were skulking together, and I
soon guessed their business. I watched them close,
and the more 1 could hear or see, the more I am sure
they are plotting mischief. Costigan can't throw off
the guilty look ; for instead of coming up to me free-
ly, as one neighbour would to another, he shuffles
past me without a word, if he can, or a short un-
gracious remark, if he can't help making one."

" Still I don't see what they would be waiting for,
all this time ? Why not turn informers at once, as I
said before ?"

fe How do I know all their reasons ? — though some
of them are plain enough to a man with half an eye.
I know we are walking on traps, though they an't set
yet ; and I know we will be caught in them if we
don't undermind our enemies. That Ned Costigan
is a deep one. With all his easy ways, he never
missed the fair minute for his own advantage, since
the hour he was born. He is not sound at heart

IRISHWOMEN. 239

neither for his country. We never could draw him
in to take part with us in any good was going on ;
but he always made his own gain out of our failure.
How did he come by Kiladarne ? Wasn't it when
the Killorans had to tly in the rebellion ? And who
knows l)ut he is now looking after my poor inheri-
tance, or Simon Taaffe's, when he puts up that young
fellow to swear our lives?"

" I can believe any thing bad of him/' said Con-
nel, fc since the day he spoke ill of me before the
gentlemen. But I can't think that Wat would plot
my death."

"Balderdash ! Connel. Wouldn't you plot his
death if it was the only way of saving your own
life ? Yes, you would, and so would any man, for
life is sweet. Didn't he tell you he was afraid of us
all ? Didn't he tell you his own roof darn't shelter
him? Look at it in that way, and put two and two
together. Look at another thing. Mrs. Costigan
has pride for a queen, and learning that would make
a judge. She was ever a haughty woman ; but since
she lost her young one, she has no feeling left but
bitterness against them that are better off than her-
self; and she would destroy on all sides, if it was
only for the pleasure of destroying. Look farther off
again than that. She has turned her reading against
religion, and inveigled poor Mr. O'Floggin to the
house to offend him ; and when they both vented
their malice on him, they showed him the door. Oh,
Connel ! Kiladarne may well make us look about us.
She gets her instructions from the glebe, and gives
them to her husband; and from him they go down to

240 IRISHMEN AND

his underlings ; and they will soon be too many for
us, if we go on careless as we are/'

" As for what she did to the Priest/' said St.
Leger, " I wouldn't care a haporth, if it was only
that. He can right himself without our taking his
part."

" Nor would I neither," replied the elder. " It
would do them good to give them a check of an odd
time ; and I don't let it go with them, when they
want pulling down. But she affronts them with the
Bible, and won't listen to a word that don't chime in
with what she finds in it. Now, Conn el, I am sixty-
three years old, and I never knew one to look into
that same book, that wasn't done harm to, little or
much. It has the power of making the heart unna-
tural; and if a man goes on reading it, he won't put
out a hand to help his country, but let the magistrates
ride over us rough shod, at their will. Why, boy,
she'd think it her duty to tell, if she had no other
hatred to us." i^K^-

" If I thought that fellow was deceiving me," said
Conned, thoughtfully.

" He is deceiving you ; and 1 wonder you that are
sharp couldn't see through him, when I advised you to
pump him, and talk fair to him."

" I wish you hard him, Mr. Mulvaney, when he
cleared himself of intending bad to one of us, and I
think you would have judged with myself, that he is
true still."

" Didn't I hear him swear that he would stand by
you in doing justice on old Oglandby, and don't I
know that his piece was only charged with powder ?
That's true, Connel. I know what I know. Didn't

IRISHWOMEN. 241

he cosher with a fool about playing tricks on Mil-
ward's daughter, though his trick was nigh blowing
us all up ? Isn't he hand and glove with them that
neither wish well to us or the cause ? What company
does he keep ? Did it come into your head to ask
him what he was doing with Captain Geraghty, who
slunk off when you came in view ?"

"No," replied St. Leger: "for as I told you, I
opened out to him, from the first, without wanting to
look suspicious."

"You could have done that, Connel, and made
your own remarks all the time. I think that tells
against him, with every thing else. Isn't Geraghty
whipper-in to him at the Carragh ? And can a straw
blow in the wind, that he hasn't it as a story to en-
tertain the old tyrant? So that some things, that
one would think I ought to know, come first to my
knowledge from the footman that attends at table.
Ah ! Connel, Connel, we are in a poor way. I can't
sleep at night, for the fretting about how we are am-
plushed, when all was going on prosperously, till a
false-hearted traitor crept in among us. I expect
every minute, to be dragged to jail, and a fine set of
brave fellows along with me ; and that we will die
like dogs, to give room for cowards and turn-coats to
live in grandeur."

" Why need that be the case, Mr. Mulvaney ? —
Why not play the game first ourselves, if it is to be
played at all ?"

( ' Because I see you, Connel, who I ever looked
upon as a lad of sperrit, and the one that the whole
country looks up to, to take the lead — I see you
shutting your eyes to our danger, and letting your

M

242 IRISHMEN AND

worst enemy lead you blindfolded. Then, how am I
to expect more conduct from them, without your
sense and courage ? Oh ! if your uncle Tom was
alive now !"

" You don't know me, Mr. Mulvaney," interrupted
Connel. " Put the work before me, and I'll do it,
though I walked through my father's grave to it. I
seldom throw away much time in thinking about a
thing. If it is to be done, let it be done — that's my
way. Here's two hands wants employment ; and lit-
tle they matter what colour may stain them, so that
good is done by them. If they come out red, why —
there's water enough to wash them clean again."

" You are what I always thought you, Connel : and
you w.ill be a fine man yet, if we go on together as
we have begun. One word for all, lad, — Ned Costi-
gan is your enemy. He makes no secret of that — he
is all our enemy. His wife would set the LifFey a-
iire ; and as for that Wat Delahunt, he is worse than
all ; for he is a run-a-gate. Their mouths must be
stopped, some way or other, and that soon, or they
will tell a story it's better not to have known. I will
send you word, the minute I can fix a meeting with
the committee, that we may consider it over with
discretion, and out- scheme and out-plot them. In
the mean while, keep clear of your old comrade, till
we see what the committee will do with him. Stop,
boy, and take a glass, this could morning. Here's
your health, Connel. Let others go to destruction, if
they choose, but don't you ever disgrace your name,
which was high up in the country once, and will be
again, I promise you."

Although Mulvaney spoke truth, when he com-

IRISHWOMEN. 243

plained of the alteration in Costigan's manner towards
him, yet he widely mistook the cause : and had he
watched him in his intercourse with others, he might
have discovered the same shyness to them, which he
conceived was particularly shown to himself. Costi-
gan knew that he was the object of general animad-
version, on account of his unfortunate disagreement
with Mr. O'Floggin, which was most unjustly impu-
ted to a secret disinclination, on his part, to the po-
pular religion ; and having a very sensitive nature,
he became dissatisfied with himself for the part he
had acted ; and felt ashamed to meet his acquaint-
ances, some of whom would laugh at him for his
complaisance to his wife, while the majority would
blame him all together. Nor was he much more
comfortable in his own famrHy. Christian Rooney
and Tim Lonegan openly expressed their horror of his
conduct, and prophesied a coming judgment on their
master and mistress. Wat Delahunt's disapprobation
was as perceptible, though his mode of expressing
it was less offensive ; and his workmen and cottiers
kept a respectful distance, unless when necessity
brought them into contact. But his "greatest cross,
as he lamented, was from Sally herself; who, instead
of comforting him under every trouble, as in former
times, and taking his part, whether right or wrong,
now sat gloomy and dejected, and found fault with
every thing he said or did. Ten days of real misery
passed over his head, and he was beginning to make
up his mind to be quietly unhappy all the remainder
of his life, when he was, in some measure, relieved
by her confessing that she had not felt very well for
some time ; and after many struggles to shake off her

M 2

244 IRISHMEN AND

illness, she was, at last, obliged to give way to it, and
keep her bed. She had no pain or ache, she said, and
nothing was the matter with her, but only a shiver-
ing, and a heat in her skin, and an oppression about
the heart, and a swimming in her head, and restless-
ness all over her, and a bad taste in her mouth, and
an ugly contradiction in her temper. She was sure it
was nothing but a smothering of a cold; and she
would not send for a doctor, not being half bad
enough ; and she would just take a simple thing or
two, and be well the day after to-morrow. Ned saw
as little necessity for a physician, except in case of
extremity, as herself: not that he grudged the ex-
pense, but he had, in common with the generality of
Irish in his line of life, a superstitious dread of a
physician, such as many civilized English, to whom
we look up with all due respect, have to making
their wills; and he was willing to put off the evil day
as long as he could. The simple things were, there-
fore, immediately resorted to. The first was bleed-
ing, which operation was performed by a practitioner
in the neighbourhood, who had constant employment
for his lancet among the peasantry. Then Bora Mil-
ward's only recipe of treacle and vinegar, with a few
drops of laudanum, which had cured a variety of
complaints, far and near, was applied to. Then Mrs.
Burro wes's ginger cordial. Then Alice O'Neil's de-
coction of ground-ivy and cranes-bill— -but all to no
effect. She became daily worse, arid showed so many
oddities of temper, that she was almost persuaded
to believe she was fairy-struck; and was hesi-
tating about sending for a fairy-man, from a distant
part of the country, when, happily for the poor wo-

IRISHWOMEN. 245

man, Mr. Milward, who suspected, from the con-
stant applications at the glebe for all the ladies' nos-
trums, that she was worse than was apprehended,
paid a visit to Kiladarne, in person, and found her
delirious, and with every other symptom of a high
fever. A messenger was immediately dispatched for
the physician, who verified his suspicions, and shook
his head, and looked very grave and wise, as gentle-
men of his profession are often obliged to do, when
teazed to give an opinion upon the certainty of the
death or recovery of the patient, which Mr. Costigan
asked ten times in the space of ten minutes. That
she had undoubtedly a fever was too true, and the
news quickly circulated, to the dismay of the ser-
vants, and all the gossoons and runners attached to
the establishment. Tim Lonegan was convinced that
the judgment had arrived, and determined not to
wait for his share of it; and as, fortunately, his quar-
ter was to expire in seven hours and a half, he em-
ployed that time in scraping together his goods and
chattels, and took an unceremonious leave that even-
ing, without asking for the three-and-a-penny due to
him. Christian Rooney was preparing to follow his
example, but as her quarter wanted nearly as many
weeks as Tim's did hours before its conclusion-, her
master, who feared being left without any assistance,
threatened to make her spend the lawful time of her
servitude in jail, if she did not remain in the house ;
and she was most unwillingly obliged to continue her
kitchen employments ; at the same time stoutly re-
fusing to go into the room with her mistress, or touch
any thing belonging to her. Alice O'Neil's proffered
services, as a nurse-tender, were therefore gladly ac-

246 IRISHMEN AND

cepted by Mr. Costigan, though she was far from be-
ing a favourite with him or the invalid ; and, on that
account, he contrived to keep her out of sight as
much as possible, except when her services were im-
mediately required about the sick person, never
leaving her bedside himself, during an interval free
from delirium. But her dislike to Alice survived her
reason. She often failed to recognise her husband,
and addressed him as Mr. Mil ward or Mr. Duff, or
any body, however unlike him ; but she never was,
for a moment, cheated into mistaking her; and if ever
she called her by a different name, it was one that had
much point in it, and was, consequently, more offen-
sive to the old woman, than all the accusations
brought against her for real or suspected misdemean-
ors. ee A guilty conscience needs no accuser ;" and
Alice, well aware that much might be laid to her
charge, placed to her own account all the quotations
which formed a large portion of Mrs. Costigan's ra-
vings ; and she could detect an unpleasant allusion to
herself, even in the musical sentimentalities of Young,
on the value of time, and the rantings of Hamlet or
Macbeth, in their supernatural perplexities. Toge-
ther with her dislike to Alice, she was incessantly
calling for Ellen Garvey, who, she fancied, was hid
behind the bed-curtains, and was kept from her by
her unwelcome nurse-tender. For some days Ned
tried to soothe her, or, in his own language, to hu-
mour her, by telling lies without number, and pro-
mising that she should make her appearance in half-
an-hour, or half-a-minute, when she had milked the
cows, or boiled the potatoes, or completed some
other household task. But this humouring had the

IRISHWOMEN. 247

effect of keeping her attention constantly alive to the
same subject; and one day, after a more than usual
number of excuses had been made for her non-appear-
ance, she informed him, with much solemnity, of an in-
timation from an angel the night before, that if Ellen
Garvey did not give her a drink of spring water, out
of the brown jug, by twelve the next day, she would
be dead before the clock would give three ticks after
that hour. Ned believed every syllable of this very
probable story, brown jug and all, and instantly sent
a message to Ileen, telling the purport of Mrs. Cos-
tigan's vision, and beseeching her by the four years
spent in his house, and by the meat, drink, and wa-
ges, which were never grudged to her during that
time, and by the memory of her grandfather, who
was his own foster-brother, to be at Kiladarne before
the fatal hour, on the morrow. When he had dis-
missed two gossoons on this errand, that one might
be a check on the other, if either should forget any
part of the message, his mind was tolerably com-
posed, for he was certain that Ileen's good nature,
which had never before failed, would not desert her
on this occcasion ; and to guard against all accidents,
he stopped the clock at once ; believing that her life
was safe, so long as the hands could not move to-
wards the dreaded point of the dial. Alice smothered
her anger till she was in private with Christian Roo-
ney, when she gave vent to it, in no measured terms.
" If ever there was a woman had an evil sperrit, it's
her within there ; and it's well for you, Christian, not
to be about her, for her talk would corrupt a nun-
nery. You never hard the like of how she gets on.
One minute she is making as if she was speaking

I

248 IRISHMEN AND

fond-like to her Jittle daughter, and coaxing her to
stay with her, and lay her head upon her breast — and
then she will tremble all over, and tell her to go back
in a hurry to where she came from, for that if she
stayed with her, she would be destroyed. Then
her tongue will run on from every thing that is wick-
ed, to what is worse. Not a good name ever came
into her head, barring thieves, and robbers, and mur-
derers, and butchers, and kingdoms, and horses. The
only innocent word I could hear from her after a long
peramble about all that was terrible, was f bare bod-
kin/ reflecting on me about the one was lost before 1
came to the house ; and when I axed her, just to try
and please her, what she wanted with it, she grinned
in my face, arid roared at me to quit her sight, be-
cause I had no marrowbones, or spectacles on my
eyes. After that it is likely she'll be praying for a
quarter-of-an-hour, without stopping, that it is enough
to make one run out of the room; for not one word
of saint, or angel or the Virgin Mary, will you hear
from her lips; but only confessing her sins, and say-
ing how she has a promise, and what not. She isn't
right, Christian, and I wouldn't sit up another night,
only this, with her, to be made a lady, for she has
mischief in her head again me. All this day she has
been raving about to-morrow, and to-morrow, and
to-morrow, always repeating it three times over —
and then she accused me of a note she lost, and call-
ing me the most wonderful nicknames, for being a
thief, time out of mind. But she won't catch me to-
morrow, 1 can tell her, to make me answerable for
her note. Between you and I, Christian, I searched
for it in every hole and corner, where I thought she

IRISHWOMEN. 249

could have put it, just to give it to her, when she got
better, and shame her for her evil thoughts. Ileen
Garvey will have a chance to find it when she comes,
knowing the ways of the place better nor me. We
may never hear more of it; but mind now, Christian,
if the old mother won't have a new cloak before this-
day-month ; and where will it come from ? — that is,
if the girl hasn't sense to stop where she is. She was
glad enough to get her foot out of the house; and it's
my rale belief she wont be in a hurry to come back
to it."

Whether this was Alice's real belief or not, she was
decidedly wrong in her conjecture ; for Ileen, on re-
ceiving her late master's message, which was most
faithfully delivered by two gossoons, pledged herself
to be at Kiladarne before eleven o'clock, the next day;
and would have accompanied her young friends at the
moment, but that she was afraid to walk so far in the
dark, with such feeble protectors. Mrs. Balf, as
might naturally be expected, was a little hurt at not
being consulted by her maid, as to the disposal of her
time, and read her a long and sharp lecture on her ill
manners, in not asking her leave, before she decided
upon going to see Mrs. Costigan. Ileen, whose ge-
neral deportment was cheerful and civil, soon suc-
ceeded in softening her mistress, and every thing was
most q,micably settled between them, when Miss
Balf, who had hitherto taken no part in the argu-
ment, pertly asked her mother, if she wanted to send
a message for the fever, and loudly protested that if
Ileen went to such a place, she would go off to her
married sister, and that they might all die of the

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250 IRISHMEN AND

fever, before she would put her life in danger, by
coming to look after them. Mrs. Balf became alarmed,
retracted her leave, and on Ileen still petitioning, and
declaring her positiveness that nothing ailed Mrs.
Costigan but a blast, or some sickness that had no
name, she cut the argument short, at once, by de-
claring that she should not go.

" And if, after that, you go again my orders,"
she added, " I'll get another girl in your place, be-
fore your back is turned half-an-hour ; and then see,
who will let you in, with the character of a fever
about you."

Ileen's heart almost ceased to beat with alarm ; for
she dreaded a fever nearly as much as Margaret
Balf; and the loss of her place at such a season of
the year, might throw her, perhaps for months, a bur-
den on her 'mother, who was supported mainly by her
wages. But she did not hesitate.

" I might as well die of the fever at once," she
said, " as die after of shame and spite again myself,
if I let her go out of the world, without stretching
out a hand to help her. So, Mrs. Balf, I'll do my
duty; and I won't trouble you by coming again to
your door, once I pull it after me. If I live, I will
speak well of you, for you deserve nothing else from
me — and if I die — oh ! the sorrow word of miscredit
will any body hear coming out of my mouth about
you or yours."

Ileen passed a restless night, and half-an-hour be-
fore day, she left the house, carrying her bundle in
one hand, and her shoes in the other.

" I have five hours still, before I'm wanted," she

IRISHWOMEN. 251

repeated to herself, as she shut the door, " and I may
as well do it, since it came into my head. It will be
of use to me any how, whatever card comes upmost,"
She commenced her journey in a half run, and in-
stead of taking the direct road to Kiladarne, which
was distant about five miles, turned down one which
added seven more to her walk. After travelling for
upwards of an hour, she made a sudden halt just as
the sun appeared above the horizon, at a place where
the road ran close to the margin of a lake. The
scene was wild and romantic But we are con-
scious that we have not the talent for landscape
painting, with mere pen and ink, or, indeed if the
truth must be told, with any other implements we
know of. We must, therefore, confine ourselves to
simply saying, that in front of where she stood, there
was a well, and a large tree, and a broad lake fringed
with wood ; on the opposite shore of which, rose a
castellated mansion ; and farther on to the left, a
picturesque cottage-house peeped through a thick
plantation. At her back, a long range of dusky
mountain, thickly studded with cottages, stretched
far to the west, under which was snugly sheltered a
small neat church, with the parsonage close beside it.
Any of our readers, who may take the trouble of
grouping these objects properly in their imaginations,
can easily conceive the scene, at such an hour, to be,
what it really was, beautiful. But Ileen was like Sir
William of Deloraine, the accomplished knight, whe
did not know his a, b, c. " Little recked she of the
scene so fair/' She neither looked at sun, or lake, or
mountain, but instantly commenced operations. First
she laid her bundle and her shoes on the ground, and

252 IRISHMEN AND

advancing to the tree, dropped a slight curtsy, made
the sign of the cross on her forehead and breast, with
a quick motion of her right hand, and then knelt
down upon the grass. After continuing in that pos-
ture for some minutes, she regained her feet, and en-
circled the well, at a slow pace, twelve times, repeat-
ing prayers very busily all the while, the amount of
which, she carefully registered on the beads, held in
both hands. Her devotions, it was evident, depended
more upon her fingers than her mind ; for during her
perambulation, her eyes were fixed with great cu-
riosity upon another devotee, who, early as the hour
was, had been on the ground before her. She was an
elderly woman, who performed her rounds on her bare
knees, in a smaller circle than that described by Ileen;
and apparently suffered much pain from her exer-
tions. The stations of both pilgrims were completed
pretty nearly at the same moment, and as the elder
rose from her knees, she cut off a lock of her long,
grizzled, black hair and tied it on the thorn-bush
overhanging the well. Ileen, who watched every
thing that she did, quickly tore off a narrow stripe
from the red cotton-handkerchief, which enclosed her
stock of wearingapparel, and fastened it also on the
bush, which was thickly hung with rags of every
stuff and colour.

" Though I do this, honest woman/' said she, ad-
dressing the stranger, "the never a bit do I know
what use is in it, being the first station that ever
came in my way ; and, it's only half for myself, and
half for another. So I would be for ever thankful to
you, if you will tell me about it ; for it isn't for no-
thing you would destroy so much of your fine head

IRISHWOMEN. 253

of hair, to stick it up there, only to be a shillycock
for the wind/'

" I do it," replied the other, " afraid they might
forget in heaven that I was here, but Saint Losser,
when she sees it, will know who it belongs to, and
will remind them not to pass me over/'

" In that case you are safer off than me," returned
Ileen ; " for it would be hard to know my poor bit of
a handkecher from any other rag, when it is turned
white, with the rest of them. But that don't trou-
ble me ; for I don't want my business to be remem-
bered more nor a week or so, and the pattern won't
be bleached out before that. You have a power
of duty on you," she continued, " if one may
judge from the terrible condition your poor knees
is in ?"

" I have performed at thirteen different wells and
holy places," she replied, "since I left home, and I
have fifteen more to go to, before I stop."

" Why, woman, dear !" exclaimed Ileen ; "if you
don't take it asy, you'll wear out the bones them-
selves, not counting the poor flesh, that is going as
fast as it can."

" It can't be helped, whatever comes of me," said
her companion, mournfully. " The soul of one that's
gone will have the benefit. Listen to me, girl,
and take warning by me, if ever pride comes
across you, as it did with me. — I had one son —
The like of him wasn't to be found in any cabin
far or near; no, not even in the houses where a
coach stood before the door. I was so proud out
of him, that I would give him the best laming
could be had; and so, I scorned at our own old

254 IRISHMEN AND

Schoolmaster, that nobody thought much about, and
sent him to the Lady's School, though it was cursed
by the Priest. The boy himself would go, right or
wrong, and I indulged him, seeing there was no one
could come up to him in the book-knowledge. But
the curse came on him at last — He sickened with me,
and he died — I buried him last Michaelmas, when he
was just fourteen ; and as soon as my senses came
clear to me, I took a vow to go from one blessed place
to another, till I completed double the number of
stations for every year he lived/'

" It's a pity to hear you," said Ileen, " and I hope
what you are doing will bring comfort to your heart;
for it's a terrible sight to think of an elderly body
like you scarrifying your two knees to no end. Oh !"
she added, taking up her bundle — " I have my own
pack of troubles, only I can't stop to tell them now —
but if you knew them, you would wonder how I am
able to crawl, much less to walk."

She again took to the road, and in less than four
hours from the commencement of her journey, arrived
at the door of Kiladarne, where Mr. Costigan had
been watching since the first dawn of the morning.
The brown jug filled with clear spring water was in-
stantly put in her hand, and by her presented to Mrs.
Costigan, who, perfectly unconscious of her presence,
drank it off: and then muttering her favourite apho-
rism, " Procrastination is the thief of time," which
had given so much offence to Alice, sunk into a quiet
sleep, from which she awoke in some hours, percepti-
bly better, and in a few days was pronounced conva-
lescent by her physician.

IRISHWOMEN. 255

CHAPTER XVI.

THE day of Mrs. Costigan's first appearance in the
parlour, was kept as a little jubilee at Kiladarne ; and
Ileen concluded it by treating her fellow-servants,
Wat, and Christian, to tea, in the kitchen. On such
an occasion she was in her element. She delighted
in nothing so much as in giving, and had carefully
concealed the intended treat from her mistress, till she
had laid in her stock of groceries and white bread,
lest she should insist upon providing for it. The
pleasure of the entertainment would have been much
diminished, had the expense fallen upon another ; but
now she was the undoubted mistress of the feast, and
was preparing to do the honours of it, with all due
bustle and propriety, when the party received an un-
expected addition by the arrival of Murtagh Cum-
musky. " The more the merrier," was Ileen's motto ;
and the tinker would have been welcome for no other
reason than that he added one more to the company ;
but the welcome was doubly hearty when he told the
reason of his calling at that out-of-the-way time of
night, which was his uneasiness to hear news of the
mistress.

" Being up the country for the last three weeks,"
said he, " I never hard one word of her sickness, till
not passing four hours ago, and I couldn't sleep a
wink all night, if I didn't know what way she was

256 IRISHMEN AND

in; for there isn't a woman in Ireland I have a
greater wish for, nor herself."

Ileen quickly took down another cup and saucer
from the dresser, and, drawing a stool for him next
herself, made him take his place at the table, protest-
ing, in Mrs. Costigan's vehement style, that she would
take no excuse, without perceiving that none had
been offered by her guest, who most readily acqui-
esced in all her hospitable exactions. From long prac-
tice Ileen could talk to half a dozen people on as
many different subjects, while she told one story
throughout, and never failed to, take up the word in
its proper place, however long or excursive the di-
gression might have been. She, therefore, found no
difficulty in acquainting Cummusky with every cir-
cumstance attending Mrs. Costigan's illness, and her
own fears, and her courage, and the station, and
Lion's joy at seeing her once again ; at the same time
reminding Christian Rooney of her head-ache, and
how there was no cure for it like another cup, and
the smallest taste more of bread and butter ; and re-
commending Wat to take plenty of sugar, as nothing
was so good for a tickling of a cough ; and scolding
the tinker for not making himself more at home.
Murtagh exerted himself to please in every possible
way. He ate, he drank, and laughed, and joked, and
made himself so thoroughly agreeable, that Christian,
who had been rather sulky all day, brightened up into
an incessant giggle, and Wat almost forgot his dislike
to him, in the fascination of his tea-table manners.

" Well, now," said he, " if it isn't a pleasure to look
at ye three, living like so many kings and queens,
without a haporth from one years end to the other to

IRISHWOMEN. 257

give you uneasiness. There's not the house I know,
where the boys and girls has the life yourselves has ;
and good luck to them that owns it, and good luck to
ye that enjoys it ; and may ye long have your health
and sperrits, one as well as another, to be this day
twenty years what ye are at this very minute/'

Christian's brow gathered a cloud. — "As forme,
I'm not going to stop in it," said she. " Hardship
and fault-finding never shooted me nor mine, being of
another stamp entirely. There's doings, too, going
on in this house, that hasn't discretion on the face of
them ; and nobody need speak ill of me behind my
back, for the sake of my place, for they have my free
will and leave to sit down in it and welcome."

" Christian, dear !" said Ileen, " can't you not be
reflecting on them that has no more call to it nor that
pewter spoon ! Would I say for or again it, till I
opened it out to yourself? And didn't you tell me
that you gave warning; and didn't you say on the
back of that, that you wouldn't stop an inch beyant
your quarter, if the house was turned into a castle ?"

"Now is it worth the while of a pair of girls, the
like of you," said Murtagh, " to be squabbling about
sarvice, when one or other of you might have a house
of her own to-morrow, with a girl under you to give
your orders to ? Why sure, Christian, you have no-
thing to do but choose your boy out of a hundred,
any day. There's plenty waiting for you. And as for
Ileen, we all know how she's provided for. Before
May-day, my girl, you'll be fixed in the beautiful
meadows of Tarmoncreesh. The bargain is just
closed. The stones will be drawing for the house
next week ; he has seed praties to plant an acre, so

258 IRISHMEN AND

that you can begin the world without fore-thought
to look after."

Christian repaired her smiles, and allowed herself
to be pressed into taking another cup, though she had
declared before the three last were swallowed, that
she was full up to the throat.

" Wat/' said Cummusky, when he had completely
succeeded in establishing himself in the good graces
of the two ladies, " what's come over you to be the
mope the people says you are, since you come to this
house ? Is it the cold weather has put stiffness into
your bones ? They were all wondering as I came
along the road, why you were not at the foot-ball a
Sunday evening last, and 1 promised to get you to go
next Sunday."

" I have so much to do, looking after the cattle,"
said Wat, " that I often can't be in time for prayers.
While I am with Mr. Costigan, I must give up di-
varsion, he is so watchful about every thing."

<f I will take your place, Wat," said Ileen, " for a
couple of hours, a Sunday evening next, if you get
leave ; for keeping company so much with the dumb
cattle would take the heart out of a stick, if it had
one. I knew what that was at Christie Balf s, where
I often thought my tongue would forget how to speak,
having no Christian, often for an hour together, to
open my lips to, only seven- and- twenty of the most
crabbed-minded turkeys that ever sot upon a roost."

" More's the pity that your tongue should ever be
stopped," said Murtagh, " for it would be a loss to
more nor yourself. But no fear of that, Ileen ; you'll
soon have a companion would desire no better music,
nor to hear it going from sunrise to the clouds of the

IRISHWOMEN. 259

night. I must be in Derrynaslieve to-night," he add-
ed, throwing his budget over his shoulder, " and it
will be late enough when I get there, to look out a
lodging. Good luck to yees all, boys and girls, and
may I live to see more and more of it on you, and on
them will come after you."

ff That's as pleasant company as I'd wish to sit in
a room with," said Ileen, as the tinker left the house.
" I never thought that a man with st) ornary a face,
could be half so agreeable and lively as he is."

"He has no more knowledge of being mannerly in
company," said Christian, with a very fastidious toss
of the head, (( nor an East Indian. Did you notice
how he never turned down his cup, or even put the
spoon in it when he was done ; and how he ate up
every bit was put before him, without leaving a small
piece to show he wasn't ravenish and half starved?"

" Ah ! how would you expect manners from a tink-
er ?" said Wat : " where would he come by them ?"

ce And maybe the place he came from is not all as
one as this," apologized Ileen.

' f Manners is manners," persisted Christian, " and
every body knows that people in company oughtn't
miscredit themselves by eating and drinking as if
they were dry and hungry. I'm sure I wouldn't have
tuck the half of what I did, only you wouldn't listen,
and snatched the jcup out of my hand as good as four
times."

" You behaved beautiful, Christian. I wondered
at you for your positiveness, and what little sups you
contrived to take, only when our heads was turned."

" When I lived last year at Mr. M'Daniell's" con-
tinued Christian, with much self-complacency, " I

260 IRISHMEN AND

often hard genteel remarks about breeding from the
young ladies, after coming from the boording-school
at Borris-a-finnegan."

" Ladies, indeed !" said Wat. " Much about Den-
ny M'Daniell's daughters. How would their father's
childer come by genteel notions ? They ought to leave
that to their betters, and mend their stockings/'

"Why shouldn't they know about it?" retorted
Christian — " them that was at school, and went to -a
ball was gave by the officers, and carries their hank-
echers in bags. They had the best of instruction be-
fore and after ; for didn't Miss Haggerty, the school-
mistress, come to the house on a visit, while I was in
it?"

fe Is it the school-mistress herself, Christian ?"

" Not a word of lie in it, Ileen. And it would do
your heart good to hear her talk the most wonderful
English, and reglate all before her. I one day hard
her myself, telling them, when they were all going to
dine at Mrs. Doyle's, on no account to touch any
thing, but only a little white meat ; and not eat all
they got on their plates ; and not, for the life of them,
to take one spoonful more pudden after the first help;
and, if they were pisoned with the drooth, not to fin-
ish the glass of punch, but just put it to their lips
once or twice, when Mrs. Doyle would press them."

" It was a pity to throw away good meat and li-
quor on the likes of them," grumbled Wat.

(f Then," said Christian, who became more animated
as she continued her lecture on gentility, e ' she was
mad if they said ' very well,' when any body said
'how are you?' it was f quite welly they must say —
not a pin matter whether they were sick or well at

IRISHWOMEN. 261

the time. Mr. M'Daniell wouldn't be persuaded but
it was laming them to tell lies, when, one day, his
youngest daughter said her mother was quite well,
and she keeping her bed with a terrible cholic. But
Miss Haggerty was stiff, and, you know, Ileen, she
knew best."

" To be sure she did," said Ileen. (e But how does
it come, Christian, that rale genteel people isn't half
so genteel as them sort that only picks up a bit of it
at school ? Why there's Miss Dor&, that will be a
week together at Traffield House, with her mother,
where nobody ever is allowed but lords and ladies, and

she no, I won't be positive that ever, to my

knowledge, I see her take a glass of punch, but, if I
was on my oath, I could say that I seen her, above
in that parlour there, once take a full glass of goose-
berry wine to the bottom. And another time that
she walked here with Mrs. Falconer, she finished
every bit of cold hung beef was on her plate, so that
I thought it a pity to have the trouble of washing it
after her, she left it so clane."

" Stop that nonsense," said Wat, <( and ready up
the place, till I lock the door. Don't you hear the
master calling for the keys ? You are enough to bo-
ther the brains out of a man, haranguing about what
you know as little of as my foot."

Long before ten o'clock every one in the house re-
tired to bed, and all, in a few minutes, fast asleep,
except Costigan himself, whose rest had been so bro-
ken, during his wife's illness, by constantly sitting up
with her, that sometimes half the night elapsed be-
fore he could close his eyes. He had already counted
ten and eleven, and was expecting soon to hear the

262 IRISHMEN AND

next hour strike, when he was roused from an in-
cipicent doze by a loud knocking at his window, and
a voice earnestly beseeching- him to open the door.
His first impulse on leaping out of bed was to seize
his gun, which lay in the corner, close to his pillow ;
and then as the knocking continued with increased vi-
olence, he cautiously opened the shutter, and asked,
<f who was there," in that bullying style which always
argues a certain degree of apprehension.

" It's me," cried Lanty M'Grail, endeavouring not
to speak louder than was absolutely necessary to be
heard by those within. " Open the door, and let me
in, in a minute, for there's no time to be lost."

" Get about your business, you young imp," said
Costigan: "what brings you here, disturbing the
house at this hour of the night ?"

" Let me in, I tell you," cried the boy, pulling at
the iron bars which protected the window. et They
are coming. They are not fifty perch off, and if they
find me, they will murder me."

"Who are they, or what do you mean?" again in-
quired Costigan.

" Better not be parleying, Sir, but let him in, at
once," said Wat, who had been awakened by the
unusual noise in his master's room, and was stand-
ing, half-dressed, in the passage. se He was never
given to bad naturally, and I'll answer for him, he
has good reasons for calling us out of our beds at
this hour."

" Take the other gun in your hand, then, Wat,
and keep close behind me. But," stopping before
he reached the door, " how do I know but the fel-

IRISHWOMEN. 263

low has set the house, and is playing the decoy-duck
on us ?"

" I tell you," said Wat, impatiently, " that there is
no fear. Give me the key, Sir, quick — and stand out
of the way you two," pushing back Ileen and Chris-
tian, who were hastening to the bed-room.

" You'll get your death, dear," said Costigan to his
wife, " quitting the bed in your weak condition. Let
me and Wat manage it, and go with them two fool-
ish girls into the room. It is nothing but some stray
horse that he is bothering about."

But Mrs. Costigan kept fast hold of him, and the
whole party hurried into the hall.

Lanty, who had followed the sound of their voices,
from the bed-room through the parlour and passage,
was now heard whispering through the key-hole —

" If you have the fear of God about you, open the
door. If you don't, I'll be killed in the dark night ;
and they'll be in upon you, before you know where
you are."

"Ned," said Mrs. Costigan, seeing her husband
still hesitating, " it is always safest to do what is
right. If the creature is in the danger he says, how
could we answer before God, if we did not listen to
his cry ? So let him in at once."

" Are you sure there's nobody behind you?"
asked Costigan, as he unlocked the door, and held
it a-jar for a few seconds, before he ventured to
open it.

" They are all behind me," said the boy, forcing
his way in, and putting his back to the door, which
Costigan instantly locked and barred. " They'll be

264 IRISHMEN AND

here in a minute; and it's your heart's blood they
want, Wat, if you don't keep them out."

" Tell your story, child, that one can understand
you," said Mrs. Costigan, trembling with agitation.
" Who is coming, and what has Wat to fear from any
one ?"

" Wat knows them, and he knows what they have
again him, and I know it's him they are looking after.
I was watching them these two hours; for I guessed
they had night business, but I couldn't know what
airt they would turn, till I see them creeping by the
Widdy's mering — and they are coming, sure enough;
and Wat will never feel the cool of the morning
again, if you don't keep them out."

" Run to the back door, Wat," said his master,
" and drag the settle-bed against it; and fix the tongs
in the sill ; and stick the bit of bog-fir fast between
it and the dresser. This door is strong, and can't be
forced without a sledge ; and if they go to that, what
will we be doing, with a couple of guns ? Why
don't you help the boy, instead of whinging there,
you two wonderful girls ? Ah ! go to bed, dear —
there's nothing at all the matter. Quench that can-
dle," he cried angrily, striking it from Christian's
hand. " Do you want to show them light to shoot us
through the crevices?"

The back-door was secured almost as soon as he
had ended his directions ; and then authoratively in-
sisting that no one should speak or move, he leaned
his head against the front door, to listen, having sta-
tioned Wat with a gun, to defend the other.

Some minutes passed in profound silence, within
and without, when an angry growl, and then a loud

IRISHWOMEN. 265

bark from Lion, warned them of the approach of
somebody, in the direction pointed out by Lanty.

(e Don't tremble, dear/' said Costigan. " The
house defies a regiment, unless they pull it down,
stone after stone. And after all, it may be nothing
to frighten a man yet/'

Lion's bark became every instant louder and fiercer,
till suddenly the animal gave a frightful yell ; and
after a few efforts to bark, which died away in con-
vulsive sobs, he ceased to be heard, and a dead si-
lence again prevailed.

Lanty's affection overpowered his fears. He shout-
ed in a voice of entreaty, ' ' Oh ! don't kill poor Lion.
He's the best minded dog, so he is. He'll never
touch you if you speak civil to him, and say no-
thing."

" Whisht your noise," said Costigan, shaking him
roughly by the arm. " The only way we can be a
match for them, is to be cool and quiet, and take them
when they are off their guard."

A few minutes more elapsed, and then footsteps
were distinctly heard, coming round the house, but
so noiselessly, that had not the hearing of those with-
in been quickened by apprehension, they might not
have been noticed. They stopped before the door,
and Costigan, supposing the attack about to com-
mence in that quarter, motioned Wat to his assistance
from his former position, still imposing silence on the
others, by gesture and whispered admonition.

That they were endeavouring to obtain an entrance
in the least noisy way, was evident from their opera-
tions. Costigan could distinguish the sound of an
auger, or some such instrument, which he conceived

N

266 IRISHMEN AND

was employed to make an aperture sufficient to ad-
mit the hand, by which the bolts and fastenings could
be removed, without alarming the inmates. This
caution he thought could only proceed from coward-
ice, and inspired him with fresh courage. He gave
an animating wave of his arm to the terrified women,
and again bent his head in the attitude of listening.

The attack, if such it could be called, upon the
door, was continued for some time, but without suc-
cess. Their instruments were palpably insufficient
to pierce the new plank ; and after whispering toge-
ther in a hurried manner, and shaking the door
gently, two or three times, they stole off with the
same noiseless step, by the way they had approached.
" That is Murtagh Cummusky's foot," whispered
Lanty to Ileen, as the steps passed the window.
" I'd know it among twenty, for he hasn't the walk of
another."

" The terrible man !" exclaimed the girl, ee and the
taste of my tea not out of his mouth yet !"

" Can't you have done there ?" cried Wat : " they
are not gone for good yet. I hear them climbing the
gate into the yard, to try what luck they will have at
the back door, since they were baffled at this."

" Well, we are ready for them there, too," said
Costigan. " Follow me, Wat — and you, there, not a
word, for your lives."

Wat was right. The same attempts were made at
the back-door, and in the same bungling way ; for
though some boring instrument was applied to differ-
ent parts of the door, no, impression was made on the
inside ; nor were any external means applied to force
it in. As in the former case, the door was slightly

IRISHWOMEN. 267

shaken, again a low whisper was exchanged between
the midnight visitors, as they receded towards the
gate, a smothered laugh from one of them, would
seem to intimate that their designs were rather those
of frolic, than the deadly intention suggested by
Lanty. This idea, which was eagerly caught at by
Costigan, became strengthened, when a quarter of an
hour passed, and no voice or footstep was heard
through the silence of a very calm night.

" I believe we are a pack of fools," said he at last,
speaking in a louder key than heretofore. " It's a
pity we didn't bounce out on them, and spoil their
sport. I'll bet any thing, they were fixing a notice
from Captain Rock on the door, as they did last year.
I'll just step out quietly, and fire a shot in the air, to
show that I am not to be taken by surprise."

" You won't, Ned," said his wife, interposing be-
tween him and the door. " The marauders may be
lurking about the place still ; and no good brought
them here, whatever took them away so peaceably."

" Well, dear, you must be pleased. — Go to your
bed, for you'll be perished the way you are. — Chris-
tian, light the candle now, and go all of you to your
beds. Wat and I will sit up by the fire, for a while,
to see that every thing is quiet and right ; for it's all
over, whatever it is, and I am glad of it."

" It's little I'd think about it, to crack your ugly
skull, you dirty brat," said Christian, turning angrily
to Lanty, as she handed the candle to her mistress,
" to give us such a start I — What business has a
fairy-spawn like you, to be telling lies of people, and
frightening the world to no end ?"
" Don't abuse the poor thing," said Ileen. (< If he

N 2

268 IRISHMEN AND

did frighten the life out of us, it was all in love ;
and I'll like him the better for it, for ever-out and
after."

" Lanty," said Mrs. Costigan, " tell us now, boy,
what reason you have for thinking that them that
were about the house, this time back, had bad inten-
tions to Wat Delahunt?"

" I know it's his life brought them here/' he an-
swered sturdily, " and I know they'll have it, if he
gtops in the country."

" Who are they ?" asked Costigan, peremptorily.
" Out with their names, at once, Sir, or you'll be pu-
nished well for your prevaricatings."

" All the neighbours round you was coming," said
he ; and then stuttering for some time, and looking
at Wat, as if for permission to speak, he added,
" Connel St. Leger was at the head of them, and
Murtagh Cummusky followed next after."

' c An't you afraid that the tongue would drop out
of your head, after such a wicked lie?" said Ileen.
f< The boy wasn't about the place this night, so he
wasn't."

ff I hard his laugh, as he quit the door this mi-
nute," he insisted, " and I know they won't sleep asy
till they have their revenge of Wat."

" Never listen to him, Wat, and keep your heart
quiet, for if it is true (and it isn't) that he would
wish you hurt, do you think I would let him, and I
in the house ? He wouldn't stir an inch beyant my
bidding. He had some trick in his head, and that's
all, for he hasn't the nature to rise a hand again his
friend. Lanty — when every one had a hard word for

IRISHWOMEN. 269

you, I wouldn't let you be run down, but since I see
what you are — the back of my hand to you for ever."
Lanty was standing by Mrs. Costigan, in his usual
lazy attitude, and apparently not much affected by
Ileen's censure, when, all at once, his whole frame
became violently agitated, his grey eyes seemed start-
ing from their sockets, and seizing her by the arm, he
screamed at the full pitch of his harsh voice, " The
thatch is a-fire over our heads — don't you hear the
cranching of the blazes ? — Don't you see the sparks
shooting by the windy ?"

A deadly shriek rose simultaneously from all pre-
sent. Wat dragged open the shutter of the window.
" The boy says true," he cried. ee We are lost : —
The house is a-fire, and we are lost !"

" Oh! the villian !" exclaimed Christian. "He
told me they only wanted to come for the two guns ;
and will I be destroyed for trusting to his word ?"

" Silence !" cried Costigan — " Silence all of you,
till I speak. We have nothing for it, but to force
our passage out. You and I, Wat, will go in front,
and clear the way. We'll sell our lives dear, any
how : and if they kill us, who knows but their hearts
will relent for the women ? — Sally — this is an awful
hour for us, dear — I didn't think we'd part in such a
hurry. Take my blessing, dear — it's all I can do for
you now."

" Let me go first," said Wat ; " my gun carries
surer than yours."

<: The guns are no use," shrieked Christian : " I
poured water in the pans, three times this day, as
Connel bid me."

" God forgive you, girl !" said her master, paralyzed

270 IRISHMEN AND

by this intelligence. But recovering in a moment, he
began to tear the bars away from the front door, call-
ing on the others to rush out headlong, and not to be
daunted by pikes or fire-arms.

But the door resisted all their united efforts to pull
it open, being firmly fastened on the outside.

" Oh !" exclaimed Mrs. Costigan, with a very hea-
vy groan, " we are indeed taken in a trap, and it is
too strong for our weak hands to free us from it."

" Give me the hatchet," roared Delahunt, who had
tried the back-door, and found that it was in like
manner made fast on the outside. "Give me the
hatchet, I say ; -and in three blows 1 will smash it in
pieces, and I will smash them in pieces that stop me
making my way out after."

cc It can't be found," again cried Christian, franti-
cally : " I flung it behind the dog-house, this evening,
for fraid you would hurt them, when they came for
the fire-arms."

Wat calmly crossed his arms, and leaned his back
to the door, looking his master steadily in the face.

" Don't look at me," he said bitterly, ff for how can
I help you or myself? The doors won't open, and
the windows I made too secure to my own destructi-
on.— But an't they our neighbours, that often eat of
my bread, and who knows when they see our distress
but they will relent ?"

He threw up the window-sash, and called out,
" Boys ! isn't it beyant thinking to see what you are
about ? — We're punished enough already, if we ever
injured you, and don't go on to take our lives. Let
us out, for the love of mercy, and we'll swear never
to tell, and we'll keep our oaths. — Boys, boys, don't

IRISHWOMEN. 271

pretend as if you didn't hear, for I see the shadow of
three of you, at the corner, by the light of the fire.
Oh ! dear — Oh ! dear — won't you answer ? Well, then,
kill us, men, if you must have blood, and I'll pray
for you with my last breath — only let the poor women
off safe. — There is one of them here, that the great
God has just reprieved from death, and will you
contradict his goodness, and dig the grave again that
he ordered to be closed up ? Oh ! boys, don't you
hear how I am crying more like a woman than a man,
and won't you pity me in my feebleness ? — No, they
won't/' he added, turning from the window, and
throwing his arms round his wife. " They have no
heart, for I hear them laughing at my distress,"

Delahunt darted to the window — " Connel, I'm not
fit to die this minute — The Priest's hand wasn't over
me since I first saw blood; and you won't destroy me,
body and soul, will you ? — Connel St. Leger, what
did I ever do to you ? — I often offended my brother
that's dead, for the love of you — I first took sin upon
my head, for your sake — I hardened my heart to
plase you — What are you about there? — Show me
some friendship now, and shoot me like a man — Shoot
me, I say, like a man, you villian."

" Let me speak," said Ileen, who seemed for some
time insensible through terror. " Let me just only
get back my voice, to speak cheerful, the way he
likes. — Now you'll see what one word from me will
do. Connel," she called, laughing hysterically, " do
you know I'm in it, Connel ? Have done with want-
ing to frighten us in play ; for the senses won't stay
with me. Connel ! Connel ! I'm the most raving girl

272 IRISHMEN AND

this minute, and I'm wild arid distracted, and won't
you let me out ?"

" Not he, the villian," said Wat, pushing her from
the window, " but if these two arms don't fail me,
I'll still make a chance for our lives."

He seized the massive wooden bar, which barri-
caded the front-door, and forcing it between the iron-
railing at the outside of the window, strained at it
till the bars were bent, so as to make an opening
wide enough to ensure their escape, if unmolested by
the Rockites.

ee I'll go first/' he said, " and keep them at bay, if
they offer to stop you."

His body was half out, when he quickly jumped
back into the room, being shot through the breast,
from the corner, where the murderers stood.

Another frightful shriek resounded through the
house.

" Oh ! Wat," cried Lanty, supporting him as he
tottered to the wall, " won't you think of your poor
soul ? And all of you, what good will screeching do
you ? — Why don't you drop down upon your knees,
and call out to God, for death is coming quicker on
us nor we thought ?"

The appeal was not lost upon them. All were in-
stantly in the attitude of prayer, and Lanty rapidly
poured forth his petitions, scripturally, though rudely
expressed ; declaring his own confidence that the fire
could not separate him from the Redeemer, pleading
for his companions in misery, and asking forgiveness
for the poor misguided people without. A solemn
awe pervaded the whole party, as they listened to, or
joined in the petition of the poor boy, who, a short

IRISHWOMEN. 273

time before, they looked upon as scarcely superior in
intellect to his affectionate companion in the dog-ken-
nel. But the quiet was of short continuance. A
wreath of smoke was slowly winding- from beneath
the door of the inner room, which showed that the
fire was fast penetrating the roof on that side; and
again the house was filled with cries and lamen-
tations ; while, as if in derision of their calamity, a
loud shout was raised from those on the outside, and
two or three shots were fired in quick succession.

Ileen's reason seemed to have entirely abandoned
her. She laughed, and sung, and danced ; and then
leaning her elbow against the window, invited her
mistress to look at the reflection of the fire in the
pool.

" Isn't that a beautiful sight ?" she quietly asked a
man who then appeared at the window.

" What are you all about, within there ?" he shout-
ed. " Why don't you run out, and the roof just rea-
dy to fall on your heads ?"

" Oh ! Mr. Ward," vociferated Lanty, clapping his
hands in ecstasy — " We're locked in, Sir — burst the
door, Sir — kick it till you smash it, Sir. — Hold me
tight, Wat, and I'll drag you, while I have a hand. —
Another bang, Mr. Ward, and it will be in. — Now
you have it, Sir. — Here we are all. — Oh ! let Wat out
first — the boy that is bleeding. — Now, Wat, you are
safe — and are you alive ? — and is nothing the mat-
ter with you ?"

" Lanty, listen to me," said Mrs. Costigan. (e You
could bring us to our knees, when the danger was
over our heads ; and now, that God has showed his
goodness to us, won't you teach us to thank him ?

274 IRISHMEN AND

For, shame upon us ! — you are the only one of us who
seems to know how to speak to him."

" Wait, Ma'am, till I get a place for poor Wat to
sit down. But, what's this ?" he said, stumbling over
the body of a man, which lay motionless on the
ground.

The fire flashed broadly in that direction, and
glared on the wild features of Murtagh Cummusky,
with the agony of death freshly stamped upon them ;
and at the same moment, the roof fell in, with a
hideous crash, and a column of white smoke ascended
magnificently from the ruin, into the clear vault of
heaven.

IRISHWOMEN. 275

CHAPTER XVII.

A LITTLE after nine o'clock, on the following morn-
ing, Mr. Milward entered the farm-yard at Kiladarne,
already crowded with people. Willy Geraghty has-
tened to meet him.

" Isn't this terrible work, Parson ?" he said, point-
ing to the still smoking ruins.

" Have any lives been lost ?" inquired Mr. Mil-
ward ; " for so many different stories have reached me
already, that I do not know which to give credit to."

" Not one only two," replied Willy. " Poor young
tDelahunt is not dead yet, but he is speechless ; and
the priest is expected every minute to give him the
rites of the church. As for Cummusky, the ugly
tinker, he was shot by the police right through the
head, at once, and he is lying in the cow-house till
the coroner comes. Would you like to look at the
shot ? You never saw any thing go so fair through
and through, as it did."

"How, and where is Mrs. Costigan?" asked Mr.
Milward, detaining Willy, who was proceeding forth-
with to the cow-house.

" She is in bed in the room over the barn, waiting
till she can borrow clothes, to be able to go to Derry-
naslieve; for nothing else is the matter with her.
The night air that ought to have been her death, only
revived her the sooner ; and she is as cheerful and
well as I saw her any day these twenty years."

276 IRISHMEN AND

" It positively is the most unaccountable thing/'
said Mr. Fitzcarrol, riding into the yard, and talking
in his most out-Heroding manner to Terence Mulva-
ney. ee Is it possible that it could have happened by
accident? — those kind of servants are so careless
about candles. I cannot be persuaded that any mis-
chief was intended. It is altogether the most impro-
bable story. Persons should be very cautious how
they trust their servants with candles, particularly in
a thatched house/'

<e Upon my honour, so they ought/' said Geraghty,
drily, " in any house, thatched or slated, if a dirty
bit of tallow could fire away, and shoot people, right
and left, with powder arid ball."

" Good morning to you, Mr. Milward. Is not this
a most unaccountable thing, and the country so quiet
as it has been for such a length of time ? It is really
very mysterious — I am afraid we shall not come to
the bottom of it soon, as Mulvaney tells me that the
only witness likely to come forward is that idiot,
whose testimony, you must be aware, could not be
received in any court of justice/

ee I only told your honour," said Mulvaney, hat in
hand, which was the way in which Mr. Fitzcarrol
liked to be spoken to, ' ' what I heard from Mr. Cos-
tigan himself; for how would I know, that was sleep-
ing peaceably in my bed, little dreaming what was
doing within half-a-mile of me ? He said the poor,
half-witted, innocent of a boy did surely mention
the names of one or two, in his own blundering way ;
and the servant girl, old Rooney's daughter, said
something else, but what it was they don't well re-
member in their consternation; and the poor crea-

IRISHWOMEN. 277

ture is nearly out of her senses with the pain of her
shoulder, which got a terrible bruise and burn by the
chimbley that fell on her, as she was passing round
the corner too near the house."

" The tinker, who I understand was shot," conti-
nued Mr. Fitzcarrol, " was, like all of his trade, a
great rogue ; and is it not very probable that he was
the whole and sole contriver of the burning, hoping
to plunder securely in the confusion ? I cannot dis-
cover that he had any accomplices, at least on infor-
mation that can be trusted."

ee There were not less than a dozen men at that
corner," said the serjeant of police, " when we came
up ; and they did not run till they saw their compa-
nion fall."

" And pray, Mr. Ward, what were you and your
men doing, that you did not pursue the miscreants ?
Why did you let them escape ?"

f e I thought our first duty, Sir/' said Ward, ' ' was
to save the people in the house. When we saw them
out of danger, we did our best to come up with the
fellows, though they gave us the slip for the present."

" Slip, Sir ! Is that language to use before gentle-
men ? I disapprove of your conduct entirely ; and I
promise you it shall undergo a strict investigation."

"So much the better for you, Linny," said Ge-
raghty to the serjeant, " for you will get the thanks
of all the respectable gentlemen in the county. You
acted like a man of sense and feeling, too, in stop-
ping to save the lives of six honest people, instead of
galloping after ruffians, who you may catch at your
leisure."

Mr. Fitzcarrol would not condescend to notice

278 IRISHMEN AND

Willy, to whom he had a particular dislike, as he
never could convince him that he was a great man.
He was therefore obliged again to address himself to
Mr. Milward, who was speaking to a man on the
other side.

" The present proselyting system is dreadful," he
began ; " it is the cause of all the disturbances in the
country. That foolish woman, Mrs. Costigan, has
been, I understand, dabbling with controversy ; and
I more than suspect that her intolerance has been the
cause of this unfortunate business. You must excuse
me, Mr. Milward, for speaking my sentiments so
plainly, but interference with the religious opinions
of any people can never end in good —you must ex-
cuse me, Mr. Milward, I say."

" I beg your pardon, but I have not heard what
you were saying. May I ask, what is it that [you
wish me to excuse ?"

" Oh ! never heed it, parson, dear," cried Willy,
impatiently ; " excuse it all in a lump, whatever it
is, as becomes a man of your cloth. It will save you
trouble, and leave you at liberty to say a word of
comfort to poor Ned Costigan, who is coming over
to us."

Costigan advanced cheerfully to Mr. Milward :
<e You are welcome, Sir," he said, " though it's but
a poor place I'll have to show you to. However, if
I had a castle over my head, you know I would be
proud to offer you the best seat in it. My wife is
longing to see you, Sir. Poor woman ! she is in a
bare condition like myself; for we had hardly time
to throw a tatter over us, we were in such confusion
and carelessness."

IRISHWOMEN. 279

" I expect my daughter every moment, with the
carriage/' said Mr. Milward, " to take Mrs. Costi-
gan to the glebe, where I hope you will both remain
till you can provide yourselves with a comfortable
residence/'

" Costigan," said Mr. Fitzcarrol, before he could
reply to this kind invitation, " I see you will be look-
ing for heavy damages from the county ; and I can-
didly tell you that I shall most rigorously investigate
every circumstance connected with the occurrences
of last night; and if I discover that any impropriety
of yours has led to this outrage, I shall use all my
influence with the grand jury to dismiss your claim
at once ; for I am determined not to give a premium
to bigots and intolerants for disturbing the peace of
the country."

" All fair and right, Sir," said Costigan. " I will
ask nothing that is not agreeable to my character as
an honest man — a character that I have always kept,
and will keep, with a blessing, as long as I live.
But supposing the county would never allow me one
penny, it's little that would grieve me. Why should
it? What am I the worse off since yesterday, only
in the loss of a few sticks and stones ? And if the
poor boy over there was safe and well, there would
not be a joyfuller man upon earth this minute nor
myself/'

""What'll I do with that Lanty M'Grail, Sir?" said
one of the labourers, coming up to Costigan. " If
you don't speak to him, there's no use in me giving
him a check. He is destroying the garden to no end,
burying the dog in the beautiful bed that was laid
out for early cabbages, and no place else will serve

280 IRISHMEN AND

him, because he says the sun will shine on it in win-
ter as well as summer."

" What business is it of yours to meddle with him,
Barny Dillon ? Nobody shall contradict him in any
fancy he takes with me or mine. If he chooses to
carry away the whole garden on his back, he is wel-
come to it."

f< We are only losing time," said Hector. ee Do
you hear, Costigan. Manage to get me a chair and
something like a table in one of the offices ; and col-
lect all the people who have had any thing to do in
this transaction, that I may take their examinations
before they have time to consult together, and frame
a story to implicate those against whom they have
private pique."

Costigan hastened to fulfil these directions — first
escorting Mr. Milward to the door of the room, or
rather loft, where his wife had taken shelter ; and Mr.
Fitzcarrol, glad to escape from the neighbourhood of
Willy Geraghty, joined Mr. Duff who was then en-
tering the gate.

Christie Balf, his wife, and daughter, though liv-
ing five miles from Kiladarne, were among the first
on the premises that morning. They had already
taken four rounds of the yard, inspecting every thing
with the most minute attention, and asking and an-
swering questions on all sides ; when, as if to vary
the monotony of their route, they slowly crossed
the very middle of the yard, till they came within
listening distance of Johnny Munroe, who was en-
gaged in conversation with Alice O'Neil.

<: I don't accuse you," said he, <e so what use in
clearing yourself to me. But if you would take the

IRISHWOMEN. 281

advice of a friend — that is, of one who wishes you
well, as I wish all to be better than they are, and
none more than myself, seeing I want it badly — you
would go home, and not come here till you are sent
for. Don't I tell you there's nobody cares for your
company. Mrs. Costigan sent you word not to come
into her presence, as she don't want to be angry with
any body, or say a hard word to her bitterest enemy •
and that poor Ileen, who has always a commendation
for the worst if she can, says she has no call to you
at-all, at-all ; and Christian Rooney says you are the
sorest sight she ever saw ; and the master himself
looked away as he passed you ; and Lanty, your own
flesh and blood, is skulking behind the hay- stack
from you ; so you may judge between them all there's
poor welcome for you here/'

ce Dear Mr. Monroe, if I could only get my poor
orphant away home with me, to give him an advice,
and keep him out of harm, I would go away, and
pray for yees all, though false lies may be put on me
behind my back/'

"Now, woman, I wish you would let me alone.
Don't you see how you are provoking me to say what
I don't want to say. Leave the boy where he is.
He'll be better without your advice ; and he'll be far-
ther from harm the longer way he is off from you."

" No wonder you are in trouble, Alice," said Mrs.
Half, coming forward with a very innocent air, as if
she had not overheard the conversation, " Mr. Costi-
gan was ever such a friend to you. You'll be lone-
gome too, after the house, being used to be looking at
it so long."

" It isn't true, I'm sure, Alice," said Christie, ( ' that

282 IRISHMEN AND

Cummusky was seen quitting your place only about
an hour before he was shot, For, says 1 to the man
that told me, it is impossible that any body would be
so mischeevious : and the tinker, says T, was a fel-
low would push himself any where."

" Oh ! Mr. Balf, isn't it a wicked world, when a
sorrowful woman like myself won't be let die out of
it, in respectability, as I always lived, without hav-
ing tongues let loose again me ? The man just called
in to light his pipe, as he might do at your house, or
another's ; and am 1 to be dragged between wild
horses, when 1 only handed him a coal in the tongs,
what yourself would do, if it was asked when churn-
ing was not going on?"

" One must be neighbourly — that's true," said
Christie. " And, says I to the same man, what would
keep her up to that late hour ?"

" I have enemies, Mr. Balf, that envies me the
character I had for being no mischief-maker nor bag-
biter. You see how they'll swear away my life for
my tenderness to that straggling child of mine, that I
have to sit up for half the night by times, when he
takes a wandering fit with him."

(< There's a power of money's worth lost, any how,"
said Mrs. Balf: " and what I think most of is, Mrs.
Costigan's elegant muff and tippet, and her gold spy-
glass. It's a long time before she will make up her
fine stock of clothes ; for I hear she saved nothing
but a middling flannen petticoat, and her old blue
mantle. I'm dying to know about the black silk
gown she sent to the manty-maker to be turned, the
week before she took the fever. If I could see Ileen
Garvey, she would tell me if it ever came back. It

IRISHWOMEN. 283

would be the greatest pity if that gown was burnt ;
for it was as good a silk as ever I handled. It had
rale substance in it, and three flounces a finger and
a nail broad at the bottom."

(< Mother, mother/' cried Margaret Balf, " there's
Mr. Mil ward's carriage, and Mrs. Burro wes is in it,
with the new bonnet was sent her last week from Mrs.
Falconer in England. Let us run to the gate that we
may get a sight of it."

At a much quicker rate than they were usually ac-
customed to move, all the Balfs proceeded towards
the gate, and had an excellent opportunity of satisfy-
ing their curiosity ; for Mrs. Burrowes was a long
time in alighting from the carriage, and a long time
adjusting a large bundle, which Flood had contrived
to disarrange during the minute-and-half that he had
it in charge ; and a still further delay was occasioned
by the necessity of scolding Kitty Moore for her idle-
ness in staying out the whole of the morning, and no-
body at home to do her business. ' :*

ee Besides," she continued, " it's an unbecoming
thing for one out of a gentleman's house to be curious
about robbers and plunderers, and low, mean doings
of that kind. Do you think that I would have put a
foot inside the place, only that it would not ,be pro-
per for Miss Dora to come by herself, and carry the
bundle of clothes the mistress is sending to Mrs. Cos-
tigan, hearing how the poor woman was keeping her
bed from want of covering ? You don't know what
is becoming your station, Kitty, living with the fa-
mily you do ; and I can tell you I am ashamed of
you, and I hope you will be ashamed of yourself/'
" Mrs. Burrowes, Ma'am," said Kitty, " you

284 IRISHMEN AND

wouldn't be angry with me if you knew all I went
through. I couldn't walk a step for two hours, with
the fright I got, no more nor if I never had a leg un-
der me. What did Barny Dillon do with me, Ma'am,
the minute I came to the place, but gallopped me off
to the cow-bouse, to look at the terrible tinker that
mended the dripping-pan, and the colander, three
times over, and you know they are wanting to be
mended again now, Ma'am. There he was, lying
stretched out on the straw. The ball went in at his
cheek, and out near the top of his head, the other
side. When I seen that, my heart came up into my
mouth with fright, at the escape the unfortunate man
had, that it didn't hit his eye, for it was within half
an inch of it ; and I won't recover it these twenty
minutes and more, I am sure."

While Mrs. Burrowes lectured the housemaid, Mon-
roe was speaking to Miss Milward, who, pale and
agitated, waited in the back ground, till her elderly
companion should think proper to move on.

"Miss Dora," said he, "you have cause to be
thankful and glad ; and you have cause to wonder at
yourself, when you think of what you have done —
only you didn't do it — how could you ? But it was
done, and I am bound to honour you as an instrument
in God's hand to show light to a poor despised crea-
ture, that my unbelieving heart would persuade me
was born to live and die in darkness. Mr. Costigan
told me he learned a lesson from him he can never
forget, and she herself is more steadfast than ever to
follow the word of God for her guide, seeing that it
can give understanding to the simple — I see the poor
fellow peeping at us from behind the hayrick. — Ah !

IRISHWOMEN. 285

Miss, won't you beckon him over to you, and say one
word of encouragement to him ?"

" Not now, if you please, Mr. Monroe/' answered
Dora, quickly. " There are so many people prepar-
ing to listen, that I should certainly talk nonsense, in
my anxiety to say something very proper. And then
I feel a great inclination to cry ; so much so, that [
am afraid to trust my voice, even speaking quietly
to you. But tell him to follow the carriage to the
glebe, and tell him — tell him every thing that is kind
from me, Mr. Monroe/'

Mrs. Burrowes's eye at this moment glanced on
Lanty, and she called him to her, in her voice of au-
thority, which he had never yet seen the individual
who had ventured to disobey. He, therefore, invo-
luntarily obeyed her summons, though strongly tempt-
ed to run away ; and he shuffled quickly towards her
with a side-long motion — his head turned over one
shoulder, so that his eyes were looking exactly in the
contrary direction to that in which his body was
moving.

" Come here, my good boy," she said : ec I often
spoke hardly of you, and I often reflected on you for
the faults of others, without considering that many
an ugly father has a beautiful child. I am now sorry
that ever I did so, for I was wrong, and I am not
afraid or ashamed to say so. And I tell it out before
all your neighbours here, that there is not one of
them, who might not be proud to have a son like you,
and that he has marked you to grace. If you never
had a friend before, Lanty, I am your friend from this
day forward ; and you may trust to my friendship,

286 IRISHMEN AND

child, for it never yet was given or taken away for
nothing."

A general murmur of approbation from the by-
standers followed the housekeeper's speech; and Dora,
repressing her inclination to cry, which was momen-
tarily increasing, advanced a few steps, and, in a
manner almost as confused as his own, said, (( Lanty,
I am greatly pleased with you, and every body is
pleased with you, and I hope, as nurse says, that God
has indeed given you his blessing."

Tears — real tears — the first that ever were known
to come from Lanty's eyes, rolled down his cheeks,
while he listened, with a grateful expression of coun-
tenance to the voice of the only human being who
had been uniformly kind to him. Mrs. Burrowes,
Mrs. Balf, Johnny Monroe, and others, were softened,
and applied immediately to their pocket-handker-
chief, the corner of a shawl, or the back of their
hand, to dry their eyes ; and a general fit of crying
was about to commence, when the approach of Mr.
Milward gave Lanty the opportunity to slink away
to his former retreat, and Mrs. Burrowes, settling her
features into a very dignified expression, motioned
the young lady to come forward, and take her father's
arm.

" Nurse," said he, as he moved on with his daugh-
ter, " I am glad you are come, for Mrs. Costigan is
sadly in want of your good offices. She seems un-
willing to return with you to the glebe, but perhaps
Dora may succeed in making her change her deter-
mination."

" Let me carry that bundle for you, Ma'am," said

IRISHWOMEN. 287

Monroe, " Oh ! Mrs. Burro wes, I insist upon it — it's
fitter for me to carry it than for you ; besides, you'll
want your hand to hold up your cloak, crossing that
dirty step by the turf-clamp. — Don't be afraid,
Ma'am ; 1 11 be as tender of it as yourself. Your
commendation of that poor boy, Mrs. Burrowes, went
home to my heart, and I am as thankful to you, as if
you made me a justice of peace, or any thing- that
never could come into my head/*

Mr. Milward left his daughter and her attendant at
the door of Mrs. Costigan's little apartment, and sat
in the stable with Mr. Fitzcarrol, who was engaged
in examining Christian Rooney, till he received a
message to say that she was dressed, and ready to
receive all visitors.

" Mrs. Costigan is determined on going immediately
to Derrynaslieve," said his daughter, on his entrance ;
" and will only promise to spend a day with us at
some indefinite time, when she is quite strong, and
the season advancing towards the spring."

ec I opened my heart all about it to Miss Dora and
Mrs. Burrowes," said Mrs. Costigan, " and I will tell
the plain truth to yourself, too, Sir, that you may see
it is not ingratitude or incivility. I would desire no-
thing better than to sit looking at Mrs. Milward, hour
after hour, and she knows that. But then, what
would poor Ned do ? He would be put out of all his
ways, and he would be uncomfortable, trying to do
manners every minute, and not knowing the best way
to go about it. Now, Mrs. Burrowes, I put it to you
— could he sit all the evening in his old slippers, with
his feet on the fender, talking to myself? — Could he
be yawning out loud in the drawing-room, after be-

288 IRISHMEN AND

ing tired riding all the day ? or could he rout up ser-
vants before day-light,, sometimes, to get him his
breakfast? and would he ever have a happy minute,
running up and down stairs, with nails in his shoes ?
I must think of him, Mr. Milward, who never is tired
contriving for my comfort, and I know he would not
be happy if we were not left to ourselves to go on as
usual."

" I can say no more," said Mr. Milward. (f We
were only anxious for your comfort, and you certainly
require care after so severe an illness."

(f There is care over me, Sir, which yourself will
confess I may well trust to — witness the way I am
this morning, strong, and composed, and cheerful, af-
ter undergoing what one would suppose was sent for
my death, even though I was saved from the fire.
And do not be afraid that 1 will presume on his good-
ness, by acting hand over head, as if I was to live
upon miracles. I will take all the care of myself I
ought, and leave the event cheerfully in his hands."

" I suppose you have not yet determined upon any
plans for the future ?"

(e It is all settled in my own mind, Sir, unless an
order comes from heaven to the contrary. We will
live in Derrynaslieve, till we build this place over
again, and slate it, to avoid accidents another time.
The work shall begin at once. It will give Ned em-
ployment for his thoughts, and I will be counting the
hours till I get back to it."

" You have the courage of a lion, Mrs. Costigan,"
said Mrs. Burrowes, " to talk of longing to come back
to a place that ought to terrify the life out of you,
only to think of."

IRISHWOMEN. 289

cf Courage has nothing to do with it, nurse. The
awful passage of last night will, no doubt, often freeze
my blood, when a start comes upon me by surprise,
in the dead hour of darkness : but I would be sub-
ject to that failing, live where I might ; therefore, I
may as well follow my fancy, and there is no place
suits it like this. Here I spent the happiest days that
ever fell to the lot of woman ; and when my turn of
sorrow came round, it was here I again found peace
— a peace, I believe, that will be left with me, what-
ever else may be taken. So, nurse, you see I have
some cause to be fond of poor Kiladarne."

"Do you mean to say that you felt any of that
peace during the horrors of last night ?"

" To tell you the truth, Mr. Milward, I felt nothing
but terror and bewilderment. My mind was for one
minute calmed into something like it, when that crea-
ture who had his teaching from above, called upon a
God of mercy, and made mention of the sinner's con-
solation; but the dreadful death that stared me in
the face, quickly put it to flight again. I do not al*
lude to any extraordinary feelings of my own then,
or at any other time. The peace I speak of comes to
me from the promise of Him who cannot lie ; and he
will keep his word, I am sure, though my heart should
beat quick at the prospect of pain, or my senses re-
fuse to help me in a moment of distraction/'

"After all/' said Mrs. Burrowes, " I never would
sleep a night in the same place, if the whole gang,
one and all, are not tafcen up and hung, to be a warn-
ing to themselves, and others that might follow their
ways."

o

290 IRISHMEN AND

" Then, with all my heart., nurse, I hope not one of
them may be taken. I don't want to meddle with
men's lives, and it is my comfort that I can say no-
thing to injure a fellow -creature. — Stay a minute, Miss
Dora/' seeing Mr. Milward about to go away — " I
have a little private message for your mother. I don't
want to speak out," she continued, in a whisper, ef till
I prepare Ned, by slow degrees ; but tell her that my
mind is made up, to cast my lot for religion with the
people who take the Bible for their guide. You may
say,"

She was interrupted by the entrance of her hus-
band.

' { Sally," said he, " here is a gentleman come to see
you, dear."

The gentleman was Mr. Duff. He had a melan-
choly and bewildered look, and stopped short on his
entrance, as if undecided whether to advance or re-
treat."

" I only came up to inquire how you are this morn-
ing," said he, speaking in a very hurried manner, "and
I am glad to see you looking so surprisingly ; but as
you are engaged with friends, I will not intrude now.
Some other time," when you are at leisure, I can give
you a call."

6< They are friends," said she, advancing towards
him ; " kind and true friends — and none kinder and
truer than yourself, Mr. Duff. It would be a strange
time, indeed, that you could intrude, or that I could
not spare a welcome for you — and remember, Mr.
Duff, it will be your own fault, if any thing will hap-
pen hereafter, that would divide our friendship of so
many years standing."

IRISHWOMEN. 291

" We had all better keep our friends while we can/'
said Costigan, mournfully ; " for death will take them
from us whether we will or no. I didn't want to tell
it to you, dear, till you had left the place, but the
cries of the mother won't let it be kept secret — poor
Wat Delahunt is just departed."

" Had he his senses in his last hour ?" asked Mrs.
Costigan, with an anxious look at Mr. Duff.

" No/' answered her husband, " not since yourself
made the bed for him at two o'clock this morning —
but what am I about, forgetting my errand here ? —
You must go down," said he, turning to Ileen, who
had hitherto stood in a corner near the window, gaz-
ing stupidly at the crowd below : (c Mr. Fitzcarrol
wants to take your examinations."

" What business have they with me ?" said she,
" or what can I tell to give them satisfaction ? Will
they want me to swear about a dream that just flitted
through my memory, and that I disremember how it
was ? Will they want me to falsify my belief, and
say them was in it that couldn't be in it, for even if I
seen him there, I must think it was another in his
shape ? And how could I face all the people there,
that has nothing to do but stare at me, and make me
a common talk ?"

" I know you have nothing to tell, Ileen, but the
gentleman must be satisfied. Now is your time, girl.
You can cross the place in a minute, without being
noticed; for don't you see all the people thronging to
the gate ?"

" Let me see what is the matter," said she, pressing
to the window, and following with her eyes the direc^

292 IRISHMEN AND

tion of his arm., she heaved a long-drawn sigh, and
covered her face with her hands, as Connel St. Leger
and three other men were led hand-cuffed into the
yard.

THE END.

Y •'.-*. ^534