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 ENDOWED BY THE 
 
 DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC 
 
 SOCIETIES 
 
 PRH05T 
 
 .B2 
 
 T35 
 
 1831 
 
 v.l 
 
This book is due at the LOUIS R. WILSON LIBRARY on the [^ 
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 TALES, T-35 
 v> / 
 
 BY THE O'HARA FAMILY : 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK, 
 THE FETCHES, AND JOHN DOE. 
 
 jup^jl-^^-'^SLL 
 
 " Quid ? ille ubi est Milesius ?" 
 What has become of the Milesian ? 
 
 Terence, Adelphi, Act IV. Scene I. 
 
 THIRD EDITION. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED FOR W. SIMPKIN AND R. MARSHALL 
 
 STATIONERS'-HALL COURT, LUDGATE-STREET, 
 
 1831. 
 
2 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 rowful cadence, sung the Keenthechaun, or 
 funeral wail ; their gestures, faces and manner, 
 extravagantly affecting the sorrow they were 
 only paid to counterfeit. At times, however, 
 and probably wrought upon by the nature of 
 their subject, they seemed to abandon them- 
 selves to all the real frenzy of woe, or melt into 
 its true pathos. The song commenced in praise 
 of the deceased ; rehearsed their virtues, their 
 riches ; recounted the history of their family 
 connexions, through an endless chain of kin- 
 dred, and then burst into a wild lament for 
 their untimely and frightful death. When one 
 ceased, another took it up ; the whole delivered 
 in the Irish tongue, and in irregular rhyme, 
 composed on the instant ; and verse followed 
 verse with surprising volubility. 
 
 Through the spacious barn was ranged a con- 
 course of people, listening to the rhapsody, or 
 whispering their comments in that half-tone in 
 which a tale of fear and mystery is always told ; 
 and, when the song ceased, an old man arose 
 from his seat near the bodies, and uncovering 
 his gray head, and kneeling, his example was 
 followed by all present, and the united prayers 
 of the assemblage went up for the repose of the 
 souls of their deceased neighbours. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 3 
 
 An Irish wake was, at the period we would 
 illustrate, seldom characterized by conduct so 
 becoming the house of death ;* generally, how- 
 ever inconsistent and unfeeling it may appear, a 
 wake was the scene of feasting, frolic, and mirth. 
 The old came there to till their pipes and boxes 
 from the plates of tobacco and snuff laid for 
 that purpose on the dead bodies, and then they 
 got together in knots, smoked, comforted their 
 noses, and indulged their appetite for shanachus, 
 a word peculiarly expressive of reverend gossip, 
 when entered into by a pleasant conversational 
 party. The younger part of such an assem- 
 blage amused themselves in a manner more con- 
 formable to their time of life ; small plays were 
 set on foot, under the superintendence of some 
 established droll fellow, there being generally 
 one of the kind in every neighbourhood, who 
 made it his business never to be absent from 
 any wake, seven miles round, who ruled the di- 
 version, and under whose guidance " the boys 
 and girls" carried on their sport, with all that 
 humour and wit for which the Irish peasantry 
 are so deservedly praised, and which, we make 
 bold to say, nowhere exists in such abundant 
 
 * Owing to the Roman Catholic clergy the custom is now 
 much discontinued. 
 
 b2 
 
4 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 perfection. Thus, noisy and careless mirth was 
 the order of the night ; and while, in the very 
 chamber of death, nothing, it is admitted, could 
 be more incongruous and unseemly, nothing, 
 meantime, was more common and less thought 
 of. 
 
 At the wake of Anthony Dooliug and his 
 wife, there was, however, no such exhibition. 
 The general horror excited by the circumstances 
 of their tragical death had power to restrain a 
 custom so universally indulged; and the mourn- 
 ful Keenthechaun, the frequent prayers, and 
 the story of their fate, alone filled up the long 
 and gloomy winter's night. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 It was Christmas eve, in the year 17 — , that 
 Anthony Dooling and his family were seated 
 round the kitchen fire. He was a substantial 
 farmer, renting a large and fertile tract of land ; 
 one of the good old times, who, except his 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 5 
 
 broad-brimmed felt hat, his buckled shoes for 
 Sundays and market-days, and his brogues for 
 tramping round his farm, wore every thing of 
 his own manufacture. Little money went out, 
 either, for what Tony ate or drank ; he killed 
 his cow at Christmas and Easter ; he bred his 
 own mutton, his bacon, his fowls ; he baked his 
 own bread, brewed his own ale, and altogether 
 was vain of applying to himself the old song, 
 
 " I rear my own lamb, 
 My chickens and ham, 
 And I shear my own sheep, and I wear it." 
 
 Plenty was. in his house ; he had a ready hand 
 to relieve the poor ; and the stranger never 
 turned from his hearth without amply experienc- 
 ing its hospitality. Yet, with all these perfec- 
 tions, Anthony had his dark side. He was of a 
 violent temper, and would fall into paroxysms 
 of passion with his workmen, and sometimes ill- 
 treat them, for the purpose, it almost seemed, 
 of making it up with them when he became 
 cool, and all was over. 
 
 A turf fire blazed in the large open chimney, 
 of which the red light glittered among the bright 
 pewter plates and dishes, and the burnished 
 copper vessels that decked the opposite dresser, 
 and shewed the vast store of bacon hanging 
 
6 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 within and without the chimney, at the same 
 time that it lit up the figures and countenances 
 of as merry a group as ever blessed the com- 
 forts of a warm fire, after a day's labour. 
 
 At one side of the fire, and within the wide 
 canopy of the chimney, in his stationary two- 
 armed chair, one leg crossed above the other, 
 his short pipe rested on his projecting under-lip, 
 which he frequently withdrew in a hurry, to 
 partake of the merry laugh that was passing 
 him — there, and so, sat the master of the house, 
 Anthony Dooling. Opposite to him was the 
 vanithee, an orderly,, innocent, and even-tem- 
 pered dame ; her character in her face, mild, 
 peaceable and happy ; as in a low tone she 
 chaunted the ancient ditty of Colloch-a-thusa,* 
 which the busy hum of her spinning-wheel con- 
 fined wivain the circumference of her own im- 
 mediate atmosphere. At one side stood a long 
 deal table, off which master and workmen, mis- 
 tress and maids, ate their meals, except when 
 a guest of distinction was entertained in the 
 boarded and well-furnished parlour at the back 
 of the kitchen ; and in front, appertaining to 
 the table, was a form, occupied at their ease, 
 by five or six workmen, who enjoyed the full 
 » " Old Hag in the Blanket/' 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 7 
 
 lustre of the merry blaze, and the familiar and 
 venerable jokes of their kind-hearted master. 
 
 Among them was Paudge Dermody, whose 
 rustic wit and shrewd tongue, never at rest, but 
 now particularly vigorous, kept the group in a 
 continued roar : and none enjoyed his display 
 more than Chevaun Darlduck, who, in the back- 
 ground, squat on her haunches, was giving the 
 final polish to the pewter, brass, and copper 
 utensils of the dresser, as one by one she took 
 them down, burnished, and again replaced 
 them: the other females of the house had gone 
 to spend Christmas-day with their friends. 
 Chevaun had few personal charms to boast of; 
 in her the old adage, " God fits the back to the 
 burden," was fully exemplified ; she wore a 
 bluff face, that neither sun nor storm could af- 
 fect ; arms as red as frost-bitten haw«! ; and al- 
 together was blest with a strong, robust form, 
 well calculated for the drudgery of her employ- 
 ment. She had been brought up by her present 
 mistress, Cauth Dooling, and was highly valued, 
 and not entirely unrewarded ; for Chevaun had 
 saved a " little penny," and looked forward to 
 be the possessor, one of those days, of a cabin 
 of her own, an entire acre of ground, a cow, a 
 
{> CJIOHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 pig; and, in her mind's eye, a husband was 
 casually added to the list of comforts. 
 
 Chevaun, therefore, had been casting that eye 
 about her for one on whom to bestow her gra- 
 cious self and accumulated wealth. But the 
 soft cogitations of her pillow, and the steady 
 and sober thoughts that came by day, were at 
 continued variance, and kept her bosom and her 
 choice undecided. At night, when it was al- 
 lowed to assemble after work, in the kitchen, 
 the humour and brilliancy of Paudge Dermody, 
 his handsome person, and his frolicksome kiss, 
 caused her to forget his idle habits and spend- 
 thrift disposition, and sent her to her couch to 
 dream of him and happiness ; but then, with the 
 daylight, which routs all fanciful visions, came 
 her observations of the industrious and also 
 talented Andy Houlohan, foster-brother to the 
 lover of her young mistress: Andy could build a 
 house from top to bottom — a weighty consider- 
 ation with one who had to build a house ; he 
 could mend a plough or a car, and boasted va- 
 rious other qualifications of a solid nature ; so 
 that, between the showy fascinations of Paudge, 
 and the more valuable acquirements of Andy, 
 her inclinations and her prudence held a sad 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 9 
 
 conflict ; the day constantly effacing the impres- 
 sions of the night, and the returning night — that 
 time when the softer impulses have their sway — 
 exhibiting Paudge in his glory, and again giving 
 him the full empire of her heart. 
 
 The handsome daughter of the old couple 
 had not yet taken her accustomed seat by her 
 mother's side ; she was employed, or seemingly 
 employed, in some trivial house- concerns; but 
 conscious expectation appeared in the glances 
 of her eye towards the door, and she frequently 
 paused and started a little, as she tripped across 
 the floor, and bent her head, as if attentively 
 listening. By and by, the latch was lifted, and 
 the cordial smile she gave the new-comer, who 
 entered with the usual salutation of " God save 
 all here," showed he was no unwelcome visitor; 
 and another smile, of a different character, with 
 which she answered his whisper as he passed, 
 told that they pretty well understood each other. 
 In fact, it was Pierce Shea who came in, the 
 son of a neighbouring farmer, and the young 
 girl's betrothed admirer. 
 
 Alley Dooling, now about eighteen, was tall 
 and slight in her person, but with a delicate 
 roundness of form, the contrary of bony lean- 
 ness ; her step free and bounding ; and her 
 
 b3 
 
10 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 whole carriage, though it wanted the polished 
 elegance of the drawing-room, possessing that 
 unacquirable grace which perfect symmetry be- 
 stows. Her face was oval, her eye soft blue, 
 her cheek blooming in health, exercise, and hap- 
 piness ; and there played about her smiling 
 mouth a disposition to humour, sweet, not ex- 
 travagant: her shining gold hair, smoothly 
 combed back, shewed the full height of her 
 beautiful forehead, and was confined, the more 
 the pity, in her ample muslin cap. Having 
 been to market with her father, she was still 
 dressed in her holiday clothes; that is to say, 
 her crimson poplin gown, open before, which 
 thus allowed to be seen her fine quilted silk 
 petticoat, partly shaded by a thin muslin apron, * 
 and also short enough modestly to shew the 
 imdeniable symmetry of her ankle, fitted closely 
 by light blue cotton stockings of her own knit- 
 ting. Her shoes were decorated with large 
 silver buckles, reaching entirely across the in- 
 step. 
 
 In the eyes of her lover. Alley had never 
 looked more beautiful than on this evening. 
 He, too, was a fine young fellow, just such a 
 one as we would willingly give Alley for a hus-. 
 band: above the middle size, well formed, with 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 11 
 
 a handsome and intelligent face, full of the 
 smiles and the fire of youth, the result of a 
 mind at ease, ingenuous, yet bold withal; and 
 there was a manly dash in his bearing that be- 
 came his years ; he was just entering his twenty- 
 first spring. 
 
 It might have been said, indeed, that Pierce 
 Shea was, in other respects, a step above Alley. 
 Although her education had not, according to 
 the notions and opportunities of the time, been 
 neglected, his was more perfect; as, at ten years 
 of age, he had left the humble schools in the 
 neighbourhood, for the best polish and acquire- 
 ment the adjacent city of Kilkenny, apart from 
 its college, could afford. In birth, too, he had 
 a nominal advantage, being the only son of the 
 only son of an old officer, who, about forty 
 years before, retired to the counti*y to assist his 
 half-pay with farming pursuits and industry. 
 Altogether, Pierce was, to the rustic community 
 around, an incomparable person, and, while ad- 
 miring tongues declared him a match for aiiy 
 lady in the land, evil ones said he looked too low 
 in his serious attentions to Alley. But, to their 
 spite, and our gratification, the youth himself 
 seemed of a different opinion. He had spent, 
 in the house of Anthony Dooling, as much of 
 
12 CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 his life as he had spent at home ; Alley and he 
 were playfellows in infancy; he had helped her 
 to chmb the hill after a truant pet-lamb, or 
 placed stepping-stones over the stream, for her 
 convenience ; in less childish days they had 
 been taught to dance together ; and, later still, 
 at the hurling-match, when Pierce led on the 
 victors of the ground — and few could equal him 
 at any of the manly sports — he thought more of 
 Alley's triumphant smile, and his pride was 
 more elated by it, than by all the huzzaing of his 
 companions, when mounted on their shoulders, 
 and going over, in exultation, the scene of his 
 victory. 
 
 The old people, on both sides, were pleased 
 at the prospect of an early union between their 
 children, who therefore tripped on to happiness 
 beneath a serene sky ; no storm threatened, no 
 cloud hung over their way ; nor did ambition 
 point out a remote goal, and, to keep their minds 
 on the stretch towards unpossessed good, trim 
 it with fanciful excellence ; nor vice, in the ap- 
 parel, and bearing the name of pleasure, entice 
 them along a flowery road to plunge them into 
 a wilderness of thorns, and there, with a laugh, 
 abandon them. They wished no good beyond 
 what they possessed — uninjured health, peace, 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 13 
 
 plenty, affection returned, and confidence re- 
 spected ; they wished no other, because they 
 did not think of any other. 
 
 When to his general salutation, " God save 
 all here," Pierce had received the usual answer, 
 " God save you kindly," and that he had par- 
 ticularl}'^ saluted the vanithee, and "the man of 
 the house," he then stood leaning on the back 
 of the old woman's chair, as it occurred to him, 
 that although Alley might be shy of coming to 
 sit next him, if he took his place first, he would 
 feel no such aqueamishness when she should be 
 seated. And, 
 
 "Well, a-vanithee, how goes on every thing 
 with you?" he said, addressing Cauth Dooling. 
 
 " Why, in troth. Pierce, a-roon, and praise 
 be to God for it, there's nothing wrong or 
 asthray ; if it wasn't that thief of a fox that cum 
 last night, an' out of ten as fine geese as ever 
 you laid an eye on " 
 
 But here the simple old woman stopt short, 
 as she discovered that Pierce had left her in 
 the middle of her tale of grievance, and taken 
 his place by his comely mistress, who, with a 
 complicated knittiug apparatus in hand, was now 
 seated. The mother smiled knowingly, and 
 shook her head. 
 
14 GROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 " Oh, then, musha, it's little he cares about 
 myself or my geese," she whispered, again taking 
 up her old ditty, and plying her wheel with in- 
 creased industry ; and the young couple enter- 
 tertained each other without farther interruption. 
 
 In a little time, a respectful, though resolute 
 hand raised the latch, and Andrew Muldowny, 
 the district piper, made his appearance. The in- 
 sinuating servility of this man's voice, and the 
 broad sycophancy of his grin, as he gave his 
 salutation, " Go clthogah diuyh uluig shey-an 
 agus sunus duiv"* bespoke his partly mendi- 
 cant profession, and plainly told, at the same 
 time, his determination to make himself agree- 
 able and delightful, in lieu of the shelter and 
 good cheer of which he made no question. 
 And on he plodded to rightful seat on the spa- 
 cious hob, with that loitering gait so characteris- 
 tic of his lounging, lazy life ; and as, unbidden, 
 he drew from the immense pouch of his tat- 
 tered outside coat (especially constructed to 
 hold them) his welcome-making pipes, screwed 
 them together, and gave several squeaking 
 " notes of preparation," he emptied, simultane- 
 
 * " God send luck and a plentiful Christmas to all in this 
 place ;" generally given shorter, but the piper will, as they 
 say, " make a croonaivn or song of it." 
 
CROHOORE OK THE BILL-HOOK. 15 
 
 ously, hi? budget of gossip and scandal; told 
 of weddings and wakes, of christenings and fu- 
 nerals, broken off matrimonial bargains, and the 
 endless et cetera of rustic tattle ; all which, as, 
 in one shape or other, it brought wind to his 
 bag, Andrew was keen in snuffing out, as ever 
 was the primest-nosed hound in coming on his 
 game. 
 
 By the time Andrew's anecdotes were ex- 
 hausted, and his tongue tired, his instrument 
 was happily ready to take his part, and he blew 
 forth his most ravishing strains. The music 
 inspired a general passion for dancing, and the 
 young light hearts did not demur, nor the old 
 ones disapprove ; so Pierce led out his Alley, 
 and Paudge Dermody did his best bow to Che- 
 vaun Darlduck, by whom he was blushingly 
 accepted, and the dance went on. Old An- 
 thony relished the sport, furnishing himself with 
 a foaming can of his best home-brewed ale, with 
 which he plied the piper, the dancers, and, in- 
 cluding the vanithee and himself, the lookers 
 on; and the night wore apace in mirth and 
 jovialty. 
 
 There was but one individual present the 
 quick and resolute glance of whose red eye, as 
 it shot from one to another of the dancers. 
 
16 CROHOORE OF THE BlLL-HOOK. 
 
 shewed no sympathy with the happy scene. 
 This was a young man, in the prime of life, as 
 to years, but with little else of the charm of 
 youth about him. An exuberance of bristling, 
 fiery-red hair stared around a head of unusual 
 size ; his knobby forehead projected much, and 
 terminated in strongly-marked sinuses, with 
 brows of bushy thickness, the colour of his 
 hair; his eyes fell far into their sockets, and 
 his cheek-bones pushed out proportionably with- 
 his forehead, so that the eyes glared as from a 
 recess ; then, his cheeks were pale, hollow, and 
 retiring ; his nose, of the old Milesian mould, 
 long, broad-backed and hooked ; his jaws came 
 unusually forward, which caused his teeth to 
 start out from his face ; and his lips, that without 
 much effort never closed on those disagreeable 
 teeth, were large, fleshy, and bloodless, the 
 upper one wearing, in common with his chin, a 
 red beard, just changed from the down of youth 
 to the bristliness of manhood, and as yet un- 
 shaven. These features, all large to dispro- 
 portion, conveyed along with the unpleasantness 
 deformity inspires, the expression of a bold and 
 decided character ; and something else besides, 
 which was malignity or mystery, according to 
 the observation or mood of a curious observer. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 17 
 
 Had they, together with the enormous head, 
 been placed on the shoulders of a man of large 
 size, they would not, perhaps, have created much 
 extraordinary remark ; but attached, in the pre- 
 sent instance, to a trunk considerably under the 
 height of even men of low stature, their un- 
 natural disproportion probably heightened their 
 unfavourable expression, and, joined to another 
 cause we shall have occasion to notice, created, 
 among his rustic compeers, a feeling of dislike 
 and dread for their possessor ; repelling all free- 
 dom, which, by the way, he did not seem anxious 
 to encourage. 
 
 Having said this young person was very short 
 in stature, it should be added, that he was not 
 at all deformed. Across his shouldei's and 
 breast, indeed, was a breadth that told more 
 for strength than proportion, and his arms were 
 long, and of Herculean sinew ; but the lower 
 part of the figure, hips, thighs, and legs, be- 
 spoke vigour and elasticity, rather than clumsi- 
 ness, and it was known that, strange-looking as 
 the creature might be, he could run, leap, or 
 wrestle, with a swiftness and dexterity seldom 
 matched among men of more perfect shape, and 
 more promising appearance. 
 
 He took no share in the diversions of the 
 
18 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 evening; but seated far back on the hob, so far 
 that the blaze of the fire shone between him 
 and the others, and gave occasion to Paudge 
 Dermody to remark, " that he looked like the 
 ould bouchal* himself in the middle of his own 
 place," he seemed busily employed in whetting 
 a rusty bill-hook, while from under the shade 
 of an old broad-leafed hat, — formerly belonging 
 to Anthony Dooling, that from constant wear 
 liad become much wider than at first, and was 
 therefore squeezed with a small hay-rope, caus- 
 ing it to flap in many irregular bends around 
 his face, — the fiery eyes glanced round, and 
 were clandestinely and sternly fixed, now on 
 one, now on another, with a dangerous or hidden 
 meaning. 
 
 Anthony Dooling, by frequent applications to 
 the copper can, became, at the long run, as he 
 would himself term it, *^ suguch ;" in Scotch, 
 fou ; Anglice, approaching to intoxication ; and 
 his temper grew consequently irritable. In this 
 mood the grating of the bill-hook against the 
 whet-stone, so much in discord with the har- 
 mony of Andrew Muldowny's pipes, offended 
 his ears, and more than once he called out to 
 
 * Bouchal, boy, — ould bouchal, old boy ; — old Nick. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 19 
 
 the operator to stop. Finding himself unheard 
 or unheeded — 
 
 " What are you grinding- that for V he asked 
 in angry tone of Crohoore, the name of the 
 person we have just described ; but a surly look 
 was the only answer. 
 
 " Did you hear me spakin' to you a vehoon 
 grawna ?"* Anthony went on ; and subdued re- 
 sentment, at the disgraceful and stinging term 
 applied to him, knotted Crohoore's brow as he 
 slowly raised his head to answer. 
 
 " \Yhat am I grindin' it for? I know, now 
 it's myself you mane," the man replied; "I 
 thought, afore, you were discoorsin' the piper." 
 
 " You didn't !" retorted Anthony, springing 
 up in wrath, at the brisk tone of his insignifi- 
 cant cow-boy, " no, you didn't think any such 
 thing, a vich-na-sthreepeea /"f 
 
 Another savage look was given in exchange 
 for this opprobrious epithet. 
 
 " None o' your dog's looks !" continued Tony, 
 replying to it, "' take yourself to bed out o' that, 
 since your black heart won't let you share in the 
 innocent diversion." 
 
 The vanithee here interfered in a mild, be- 
 seeching tone, and said to her husband, " Never 
 * L^gly wretch, t Son of a jade. 
 
20 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 mind him Tony a-roou ; he's doin' no harm, poor 
 crature." 
 
 " No harm, woman! arrah, bad end to me, 
 but his black looks 'ud turn the May-day into 
 winter — go to your bed, I say," roared Tony. 
 
 Crohoore rose from the hob to go ; he slowly 
 laid the bill-hook where he had been sitting; 
 his brows were knit closer than ever, his teeth 
 clenched, and his eyes rolling. 
 
 " And do you hear me, bull-head ?" the angry 
 master continued, " don't let it be wid you as it 
 was this morning ; have the cows in the bawn at 
 the first light, or I'll break every bone in your 
 lazy skin." 
 
 The dwarf, as he may be called, was pass- 
 ing his harsh master while these words ended, 
 and he fixed the full meaning of his look on 
 Anthony, and said, "That same 'ud be nothing 
 aew, for tryin' at laste ; it's an old trick you 
 have." 
 
 " What's that you say, there, you shingawn,* 
 you ?" questioned Tony, his passion raised to 
 the utmost at thought of a saucy answer from a 
 creature so contemptible. 
 
 " An' it's well you know I am a shingawn, or 
 you wouldn't be so ready with your bone-break- 
 * Shingawn, a diminutive being. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 21 
 
 ing-," still retorted Crohoore. This was past 
 enduring. 
 
 "Take that for a patthern !" cried Anthony, 
 the moment the speech was xittered, raising his 
 clenched and ponderous hand, and dealing the 
 miserable offender a violent blow with the whole 
 force of his arm. Crohoore spun round and 
 fell; his head, as he went down, striking against 
 a chair so smartly as to draw the blood in some 
 profusion. 
 
 The piper stopped suddenly ; the dance 
 ceased, and Pierce Shea was the first to raise 
 and support the senseless Crohoore, while Alley, 
 trembling and weeping, gave him a handker- 
 chief to bind the wretch's temples, and staunch 
 the welling blood. Cauth Dooling, with eyes 
 of pity, looked at her husband, fully compre- 
 hending his feelings, as he stood the pictiire of 
 shame, sorrow, and repentance. Indeed the 
 blow had scarcely been given, when, from the 
 bottom of his heart he blamed and hated him- 
 self for it; and in his present mood he would 
 have offered half his little wealth as atonement. 
 
 Crohoore, suddenly recovering, sprung on 
 his legs, and freed himself from his supporter 
 with a force that made him reel, and a manner 
 that seemed to spurn all obligation ; his face 
 
22 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 was horribly pale, covered with blood, and 
 every hideous feature rigid in checked passion. 
 Without opening his lips he dropped his head 
 upon his breast, and trying to walk, but stag- 
 gering, crossed the apartment to an opposite 
 door that opened into a passage, through which 
 he should go to the loft where he slept. While 
 the whole group looked on with wonder and 
 alarm, Anthony called after him, and in a crying 
 voice said, can in hand, " Crohoore, a vich ma- 
 chree, comeback an' make it up ; dhrink to me, 
 an' be friends." 
 
 But there v/as no reply to this pacific and pe- 
 nitent overture ; Crohoore only turned round his 
 ghastly face on his master, as he held the door 
 in his hand, gave him one parting look, and 
 then banged the door after him. That look was 
 afterwards well remembered, and often com- 
 mented upon. 
 
 Anthony set himself down without speaking. 
 He felt a return of dudgeon at the manner in 
 which his advances had been received, and this 
 in some degree served to reconcile his con- 
 science to the cruelty he had been guilty of. 
 But a general damp fell over the whole party, 
 and its effects soon became visible ; the work- 
 men silently, or in whispers, withdrew to an out- 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK, 23 
 
 house, where they slept, and the now superfluous 
 piper as silently plodded after them. Pierce 
 Shea took his leave, but not without his parting 
 kiss from Alley, and the renewal of an under- 
 standing with her and the old people to call for 
 them next morning, at a very early hour, when 
 all were to set off to the chapel for the six o'clock 
 mass, it being the practice throughout Ireland, 
 whenever it can possibly be done, to assemble 
 at devotion before day-break, on the Christmas 
 mornmg. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 At half-past four o'clock the following Christ- 
 mas morning. Pierce Shea rode into the farm- 
 yard of Anthony Dooling, and dismounted at 
 the door where he had lingeringly bidden adieu 
 to Alley on the former night. His stout horse, 
 ready caparisoned for the intended journey to 
 a chapel about three qiiles distant, was provided 
 
24 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 with a pillion, on which his mistress was to be 
 seated. He got the door open, and thence 
 concluded his friends were up and ready to 
 receive him. Some surprise ensued, however, 
 on entering the kitchen, the scene of the last 
 night's festivity, to find no appearance of any 
 person stirring. There were a few decaying 
 embers on the hearth, but, except the feeble light 
 they gave to the immediate spot on which they 
 glimmered, all else was darkness, and a dead 
 silence prevailed. 
 
 He became convinced from these appear- 
 ances that none of his friends, or their servants, 
 had yet arisen, and he was therefore astonished 
 at having found the door open. He groped 
 towards the fire-place, in the hope of finding, 
 what in reality was there, a rushlight, left on 
 the hob over night for the purpose of being 
 lit at the turf embers ; on his way his foot 
 struck against something on the floor : he 
 stooped, felt about for it, and took it up. It 
 was a bill-hook. He laid it on the hob, and 
 lighted the candle. 
 
 " Heaven protect and save me ! What is " 
 this?" Pierce now ejaculated, perceiving, by the. 
 light of the candle, his hands bloody. He 
 paused a moment to reflect how it could have 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 25 
 
 occured, and then brought to mind that the 
 bill-hook had felt moist in his grasp. He took 
 it up again ; it was besmeared with clotted 
 gore. 
 
 A rapid conviction of the frighiful manner 
 in which it had been used darted across his 
 mind. Murder had been committed ! — The 
 open door, and the silence that prevailed when 
 he expected to have found his friends ready 
 to set out on their pious journey, were now 
 dreadfully accounted for. The inmates of the 
 once happy house were no more, and the mur- 
 derers had left the door open at their hurried 
 departure. 
 
 A youthful, ardent, and devoted lover, such 
 as Pierce Shea then really was, may picture the 
 state of his thoughts and feelings as he now 
 stood, paralysed with the almost certainty that 
 his adored mistress, his all but wife, hud, during 
 the few hours between their last loving kiss and 
 the present moment, been hurried into eternity, 
 and, by the arm of midnight murder, torn from 
 him for ever. The contemplation of deliberate 
 murder, to an innocent mind, and even where 
 one is not personally concerned in the victim's 
 fate, commands a sensation of unmixed horror ; 
 but when the slayer's red hand is thrust into a 
 VOL. I. c 
 
26 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 bosom — hitherto the seat of happiness — to tug 
 away its heart-strings, dreadful and indescribable 
 must be that anguish ! 
 
 Pierce Shea felt himself sicken, and his head 
 grew dizzy ; he staggered, and would have 
 fallen, but that the wall gave timely support. 
 His mind became a chaos ; the rich colour fled 
 his cheeks, his teeth chattered, the flesh crept 
 along his bones, and every joint failed, as with 
 eyes starting from their sockets, and his hair 
 bristling on his head, he firmly clutched the 
 candle in one hand, and, by its dim light, stared 
 at the bloody weapon he held in the other, A 
 considerable time elapsed before he could com- 
 mune with himself, but at last he was able to 
 groan out : — 
 
 " In the name of the Saviour, on his own 
 blessed morning, I will see what is the matter ;" 
 and he tottered forward with a desperate reso- 
 lution to know the worst. 
 
 We have before mentioned a little boarded 
 parlour, entered from the kitchen, the state 
 room of the farmer's house ; this he gained. A 
 door at one side of it opened into Alley's bed- 
 chamber, and another at the opposite side into 
 that of the old couple : he rushed through the 
 former, and, panting with terror, approached 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 27 
 
 Alley's bed. The bed had been lain in, but 
 was now empty. His eye rolled slowly round 
 the room, daring certainty, yet almost sure of 
 lighting on the cold corse of her he loved : — no 
 such object appeared. The clothes she had 
 worn on the preceding night next became a 
 subject of his search ; they were not to be seen 
 either. He returned to the bed : there was the 
 mark of a large bloody hand on the sheets. He 
 dashed to the opposite door, burst it in, and in 
 his desperate hurry had nearly fallen over the 
 dead body of Anthony Dooling, that lay on the 
 floor : it was near the threshold, and the old 
 man's blood, running in a stream, had flowed 
 under the door, and trickled over the well- 
 whitened boards of the neat little parlour. 
 Pierce's gaze fixed involuntarily on the remains 
 of his old friend. We should scarce describe 
 the sight : the head and breast was savagely 
 cut and mangled ; it was murder in its worst 
 feature. 
 
 The terror and anxiety of the lover still pre- 
 dominant, he gave one afi*righted glare towards 
 the old people's bed; there Alley might have 
 taken refuge,{and there too — the thought could 
 not be followed up ! With a convulsed bound 
 he sprang across the room ; for, at his first 
 
 c2 
 
28 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 motion, he found himself slipping on the gory 
 boards. He held the candle over the bed, and 
 there appeared a female form, also lifeless, and 
 presenting marks of the assassin's hand, again 
 too horrible for description. We glance at the 
 object for a moment, only to say that, with the 
 life-stream overflowing the bed, and running 
 down its side, it lay so mangled and deformed 
 as, during a first view, to leave the wretched 
 lover doubtful of its identity. And upon that 
 doubt what feelings came ! — but he looked 
 closer, and knew the corse of his Alley's mother. 
 She, herself, was no where visible. 
 
 A hope that she might have escaped came 
 brightly over his darkened bosom ; and the bare 
 idea had power,, even amid the horrors of such 
 a scene, to send a rush of joy about his heart, 
 welcome as would be the sudden springing up 
 of fresh water in the thirsty desert. He uttered 
 a cry of joy ; he clapped his hands; he shed 
 tears ; and nature relieving herself, and in some 
 degree restoring the tone of his mind and allay- 
 ing the indescribable state of confusion in which 
 his ideas had been lost, gave him liberty to 
 think. 
 
 Buoyed up by this hope, he flew through 
 every other apartment in the house. On his 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 29 
 
 way along- a passage leading from the kitchen 
 to the sleeping-place of the female servants, he 
 was obstructed by another victim. Poor Che- 
 vaun Darlduck ! alarmed by the shrieks of her 
 old mistress, and rushing to her assistance, per- 
 haps out of a dream the most favourable to 
 Paudge Dermody that ever had occurred, her 
 zeal marked her for the murderer's caution, and 
 she fell a sacrifice to the horrid necessity, that, 
 to conceal the perpetrator of one deed of blood, 
 urges him to shed more. 
 
 Arrested, and again chilled by this new ob- 
 ject of horror. Pierce remained some time sta- 
 tionary and silent, until his feelings grew into 
 increased apprehension for his mistress, and 
 then he rushed on, and in loud cries pronounced 
 her name. Roused by his voice, the men who 
 slept without ran, half-dressed, to inquire into 
 the cause of the outcry ; to their impatient 
 questions he could only answer, that black mur- 
 der had been committed; while they, more 
 calm than he was, proceeded to investigate the 
 bloody business. Left alone. Pierce, conceiv- 
 ing that Alley might have sought safety at his 
 father's house, it being the nearest, and one in 
 which she would be sure of protection, hastened 
 thither to inquire : perhaps she had shunned the 
 direct way that he came, and chosen a less open 
 
30 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 and dangerous one. As he passed out, circum- 
 stances that had previously escaped his notice, 
 his mind being absorbed by other emotions, now 
 presented themselves. The corner cupboard 
 that decorated the parlour, and which bad been 
 furnished with some substantial plate, appeared 
 open, and rifled of its contents; and the desk, 
 too, in which it was known to Pierce the old 
 man kept his money, lay wrenched asunder, and 
 empty, its papers strewing the ground. After 
 a look at these matters. Pierce mounted his 
 horse, and galloped to his father's. 
 
 Meantime the workmen, three in number, and 
 who were Paudge Dermody, Andy Houlohan, 
 Pierce's foster-brother, and Sham us Whelan, 
 went over the house, and saw the scenes and 
 sights we have already described. For some 
 time they scarce spoke to each other, so power- 
 fully did the appearance of the corses of their 
 old master and mistress seize on their minds and 
 feelings. In the heavier woe of that loss, poor 
 Chevaun was almost forgotten ; even Paudge 
 seemed entirely occupied, without a thought of 
 his generous admirer, partly, it was supposed, 
 on account of having never felt much flattered, 
 notwithstanding Chevaun's riches, at her pre- 
 ference. After looking on the bodies of the old 
 people, the three men hastened into the kitchen. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 31 
 
 as if glad to escape from the immediate pre- 
 sence of such objects ; and there, securing the 
 door, huddled together, still in silence, and la- 
 bouring for breath.- At last : 
 
 " It is a dhreadful murther," said Andy Hou- 
 lohan, in a whisper, as, for the first time, his eyes 
 met those of his companions. 
 
 " The most frightful ever poor sinner hard of," 
 echoed Shamus Whelan. 
 
 " An' it was done wid this bill-hook," said 
 Paudge Dermody, pointing to the weapon where 
 Pierce had dropped it when he left the kitchen 
 to enter the little parlour ; "it's their ould blood 
 is on id." 
 
 They stooped with the candle to look closer at 
 the instrument of death ; white hairs clung to it, 
 and they shrunk back again. 
 
 " An' that very same bill-hook Crohoore was 
 whettin' last night," said Shamus. 
 
 "Yes, when our poor masther (God rest his 
 sowl !) sthruck him, about id," Paudge rejoined. 
 
 " As sure as we live to see this holy mornin," 
 said Andy, " he was sharpenin' it, at that same 
 time, to make it do his bloody work so well." 
 
 "The Lord presarve us!" all exclaimed, and 
 crossed themselves. Shamus resumed — 
 
 " Right enough, Andy ; you guessed right at 
 
32 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 the first offer. Do ye think of his look, wid his 
 hand on the dour, when he went away bleedin', 
 last night ?" 
 
 Again they stared on each other in terrified 
 silence, their manner and looks expressing full 
 conviction that they had fixed the deed on the 
 proper person. 
 
 " An' where is Crohoore himself, then V 
 asked Paudge, the first to start from stupid in- 
 action, and take the necessary steps — " Let us 
 find the murderer !" All proceeded on the 
 search. 
 
 They gained the loft where Crohoore usually 
 slept; he was not there, nor had he been in 
 bed. They went through the out-houses, sheds, 
 and stables. There was the red mark of a hand 
 on the stable-door, near the hasp ; the door 
 was open, and the best horse gone ; and foot- 
 prints appeared in a heap of litter contiguous 
 to the stable, on which it was conjectured the 
 shingawn had stood to enable himself to mount 
 the tall horse. These prints exactly corresponded 
 to a pair of old brogues found by his bed side. 
 
 Daylight dawned while the men were vainly 
 employed in tracing the murderer ; and Pierce 
 Shea returned, accompanied by his father, hav- 
 ing got no intelligence of Alley, and still raving 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 33 
 
 and distracted with apprehensions for her fate. 
 He came up just as the workmen were satisfied 
 that Crohoore was the slayer of the three human 
 beings that lay stiff within the house, and when to 
 this conviction another had been added, and was 
 intimated by Shamus Whelan, the eldest of the 
 three, whose silvered locks gave value to the 
 solemn tone in which the following ejaculation 
 was uttered : — 
 
 " Lord look down on you wid eyes of pity, 
 poor Alley Dooling ; the miau* and the miroch^ 
 has come over you in your young days ; an' it 
 would be better for you, iiiille times, -f to be 
 lyin' stretched an' dead wid them that are within, 
 this mornin' !" 
 
 "Then you know aboift her?" said Pierce. 
 " Where is she? What has become of her.'"' 
 
 " Nothin', for sartin, do we know. Master 
 Pierce, a-roon, only we make up our minds that 
 the father's murtherer is the child's undoer," 
 Shamus answered. The young man groaned 
 aloud. 
 
 "Aye, God help you, a-vich, God help you; 
 its a mournful Christmas to you," said all. 
 
 No doubt seemed now to exist of the identity 
 of the cruel assassin. The news had spread by 
 
 * Sorrow and trouble. t A thousand times. 
 
 c 3 
 
34 CROtlOORfi OF THE BiLL-HOOK. 
 
 this time ; the neighbours crowded in to gratify, 
 although to shock their eyes with the evidences 
 of the thrilUng story ; and amongst them came 
 one whose words served to fix upon Crohoore 
 the last crime attributed to him. 
 
 He told, that, having been in search of a stray 
 sheep, he was returning home about two hours 
 after midnight, along the road that ran at the 
 foot of the descent on which stood Anthony 
 Dooling's house, and there heard the quick 
 tramp of a horse's feet behind him ; and that, 
 surprised at so unusual an occurrence, and 
 frightened, too, on f^ccount of the fame of a 
 desperate band of night-robbers then in exis- 
 tence, he had retired under the shade of a ditch 
 to observe the horseman. The frosty moon was 
 bright, and, whilst the rider passed, he recog- 
 nized the remarkable person and face of Cro- 
 hoore ; and, though the horse went rapidly by, 
 he had opportunity enough to note that, before 
 him, the sMngawn held with one arm something 
 like a human figure enveloped in dark drapery. 
 The man called after him, but Crohoore, without 
 looking behind, put his horse to full speed, 
 struck into the fields, and distinctly made way 
 up one of the opposite hills, and then descended 
 from view at the other side. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 35 
 
 With this clue, Pierce Shea, determined on 
 immediate pursuit. He provided himself with 
 arras ; equipped, in like manner, Paudge, Sha- 
 raus, and his foster-brother Andy ; and, mount- 
 ed on good horses, they set out without loss of 
 time, resolved to persevere to the last till they 
 should have secured the murderer, and rescued 
 Alley, if — and the thought was heart-breaking 
 to poor Pierce — it was not already too late to 
 save her from a fate worse than direst death. 
 
 " An' they spent all that day an' night," said 
 the narrator of this tale, the same aged retainer 
 of the family who, at the wake, gave the cir- 
 cumstantial account of his master's death here 
 set down, to a circle of attentive and affrighted 
 hearers, and amongst whom we still suppose 
 him speaking : — 
 
 " They spent that day an' night, an' a good 
 part of the next day, among the bogs and 
 mountains, an' they came home as empty-handed 
 as they went out, an' worse, by far ; for they 
 brought poor Pierce Shea half dead to his father 
 an' mother, an' he's now lyin' in the hoith of a 
 great faver, ravin' like mad ; swearin' that he's 
 up to his knees in poor Tony Doolin's blood, an' 
 callin' to them to take the bruised head out of 
 his sight, and thinkin' he sees his poor Alley 
 
36 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 strugglin' wid Crohoore, an' cryin' out to him to 
 save her ; so that they're forced to have Andy 
 Houlohan, his own nurse's child, an' another o^ 
 the sthrongest they can find, to hould him down 
 in the bed ; an' little wonder it is, God help 
 him, that his thoughts should be runnin' on the 
 sight he saw." 
 
 The listeners glanced for a moment at the 
 disfigured bodies, and turned their eyes away 
 again in haste. 
 
 " I'm tould," continued the old man, ** by one 
 o' the boys that went wid Pierce, that they met 
 the cursed shingawn on the hills, that Pierce 
 was within arm's length of him, an' that he slipt 
 away like any sheeog ,•* the boy himself was so 
 tired an' kilt, I could'nt get the whole story 
 from him ; but to-morrow I'll know all about it. 
 One thing is sartin, they cum home widout tale 
 or tidings of Alley Doolin' ; there's no knowin' 
 where Crohoore has hid her, but it's not far 
 away, I'm thinkin'." 
 
 "That Crohoore was always a bad sight to 
 me," said an elderly dame, stooping across, 
 looking cautiously around, and whispering as if 
 she feared the walls would hear her. " I never 
 cared to see him crossin' my road ; there was 
 * Sheeog — Fairy. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 37 
 
 somethin' not right about him ; an' the look of 
 his two eyes wasn't like any other christhen's I 
 ever seen; if you said * God save you,' to him, 
 he was never the one to give you the civil an- 
 swer ; I couldn't for the life o' me, think well of 
 him, Mickle, ^-roon." 
 
 " Myself always had the same mind o' the 
 cullaun," rejoined Mickle, or Michael, " since 
 the first hour I ever set eyes on him. I was in 
 the field wid my poor ould master that's g-one — 
 rest his sowl !" (bending his head reverently 
 towards the bier) " when he found the unlucky 
 sJieeog in the thrench ; it's the six-acre field at 
 the back o' the haggart ; an' Mickle, says the 
 masther to myself, see what God has sent us this 
 morning-, as he tuck up the brat at the same 
 time ; that mornin' is now twenty an' three years 
 agone, come next shroft,* an' the poor sowl 
 little thought he was goin' to be the provider for 
 his own murtherer, when he spoke the words I 
 tell you ; no, I could never bear him sence the 
 the first moment ; for when the masther held 
 him in his hands an' looked in his face, tho' I'm 
 sartin sure he was then no more nor eight or nine 
 months born, the thing grinned up at him like a 
 little ould man ; an' it came into my head he 
 * Shrovetide. 
 
38 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 belonged to the good people, from that out, tho' 
 I never tould my plain mind to any body, just for 
 fear of what you guess yoursefs." 
 
 " Well, a-roon, when Crohoore was only a 
 weeny gargoon, he was too sharp an' knowin' 
 for the ouldest amongst us ; an' he never did like 
 the other brats o' boys of his age, but always 
 went mopin' by himself ; an', when every sow! 
 was asleep around him, many is the night he 
 passed out in the most lonesome places ; sayin' 
 whenever he was missed, an' axed about it, that 
 he only staid up afther the hares an' the rabbits, 
 you know ; but it was no sich thing. One 
 time — I'll never forget it as long as I live — I 
 was a little bit hearty,* an', as the douol would 
 have id, he came across my path an' I gave him 
 a kick ; to be sure I done it without no raison, 
 but the rest of the boys had a fashion of making 
 him stand out o' the way, an' the liquor, that 
 puts the fool on the best of us, being in my head, 
 I thought I might as well have a bit o' fun as 
 another; so I made the kick at him ; but — an' 
 may I die in sin if it isn't the blessed thruth I'm 
 tellin ! that very night the one cow I had was 
 fairy-sthruck an', died." 
 
 "As sure as the day, Mickle," said Anas- 
 * Tipsy. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 39 
 
 thause Farrel — a little old skeleton of a woman 
 with a cracked, squeaking voice, and one side 
 of her face a dirty purple hue, and the other pale 
 as a corse, — " as sure as the day, what your for 
 for sayin' is only the sartin thrnth ; it now comes 
 into my mind that just tin years apast, Crohoore 
 (save us an' keep us !) once brought a cock, 
 an' set him to fight again' my cock, as fine a 
 bird, of a common cock, as ever you seen ; 
 well he set them at one another 'till the life was 
 a-most gone from the both ; I cotch him in id, 
 an' gave him a good luggin' ; an' it's now I think 
 of the look he gave me ; an', as I'm a sinner 
 afore God, that very day myself got the fairy- 
 blast along the side o' my face — the marks is 
 here to this very hour ;" and she held out the 
 side of the face alkided to, that her neighbours 
 might have ocular testimony of Crohoore's su- 
 pernatural power. 
 
 The idea that he was connected with the 
 " good people" had before been no more than 
 an interesting presumption, which it was plea- 
 sant occasionally to glance at over the winter's 
 fire-side, but now, under Mickle's guidance, it 
 seemed to seize upon the minds of all his gos- 
 siping auditors ; they hustled nearer, took rapid 
 pinches of snuff, or *' shoughs" of the pipe. 
 
40 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 breathed shorter, lowered their voices, and 
 went on, 
 
 r- "The Lord save us," said one, "isn't it a 
 wonther he didn't get ' the good people' to 
 sthrangle his ould masther and misthress, an' 
 nobody the wiser, becase no marks 'ud be left, 
 an' not go to the throuble of doin' it himself, 
 afther such a manner." 
 
 "It's notthelaste wonther," rejoined Mickle, 
 who gave the law in fairy lore ; " the good peo- 
 ple, they say, hav'nt the power to take away a 
 life; they can only spile an' wither a body, en- 
 tirely, like Anasthause, there, but a death-blow 
 must be struck by some livin' christhen sowl." 
 
 " Well, well, that may be as you say it, a- 
 roon," rejoined the former speaker ; "i)ut don't 
 you think it the most likely thing for him to have 
 our poor Alley among them ?" 
 
 " You just guessed my mind ; I'd hould a 
 good heiffer, if it war God's will I had the like, 
 that this blessed moment she's in some o' the 
 green raths* they live in; sure well we know 
 they're to be seen in plenty the very road he 
 uck her," answered Mickle. 
 
 "An, tell us this, Mickle ; you have as good 
 a right to know id as any other in the world, be- 
 * Little hills. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK- 41 
 
 cause you lived under the same roof wid the 
 both ever sence they were weenuchs ; I hard it 
 many a year agone, that Crohoore was dyin' in 
 love wid Alley." 
 
 " You hard no more nor the thruth, Maugha ; 
 'twas plain to be seen as the day-light; an' I 
 often was by when poor Tony — rest his sowl ! 
 gibed Alley herself about id; tellin' her, as he 
 chucked up her darlin' chin, that if she was a 
 good colleen he would give her Crohoore for a 
 husband ; every body laughed at id ; but mysef, 
 though I never said a word afore, always thought 
 it 'ud end bad in the long run. Alley, poor 
 crature, was kind an' tinder-hearted, an', while 
 the one and the t'other had their pluck at Cro- 
 hoore, she never gave him a sour look or angry 
 word ; maybe he bewitched her, by Gor ; for it 
 was the hoith o' wonther to see her so sweet on 
 sich an ill-come shingawn that every body was 
 afeard of ; an' as for himself, he never cared to 
 do any thing right that any other body bid him, 
 bud one word from Alley 'ud send liim forty 
 miles in the dead o' the night-time. 
 
 " It's sartiu sure, I'm thinkin', that the news 
 of her goin' to be married to Pierce was one 
 raison for Crohoore's doin' what he done ; an' so 
 he whipt her off, an' tuck his revenge at the 
 
42 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 same time ; for, between oursefs, 'Tony Doolin' 
 was often a hard masther to him ; to be sure he 
 well desarved it, for an idle lazy rogue, as he 
 was ; bud it's what I'm goin' to say, is this. 
 About a month or so agone, one night, instead 
 of mindin' together the cows, he went off on his 
 own business — you know what I mane — an' 
 Tony found the cows sthrayin' about, an' some 
 time afther met Crohoore comin' over the style 
 into the haggart;* so he says no more but 
 gives him a chpe of his stick that tumbles him 
 into the litter ; an' it's well I remember Cro- 
 hoore sayin', when he passed me afther gettin' 
 up, ' ma-horp-an-duoul ;-\ you'll pay for all 
 this, together !' — an' sure he brought his own 
 black words to pass." 
 
 Thus did the gossips run on with their shana- 
 chus till the long night wore away. The crowd 
 of people left the wake one by one, as the 
 morning approached ; and at length there re- 
 mained but three or four women, who, with 
 half-shut eyes, and heads drooping and nodding 
 for want of rest, scarcely attended to the melan- 
 choly and still-uttered Keenthechaun. The wild 
 song was chaunted by a tall worn woman, with 
 matted locks and a haggard face. She changed 
 * Part of a farm- yard. t An imprecation. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 43 
 
 abruptly from her praises of the deceased into 
 the most dreadful maledictions against their mur- 
 derer, and then the women were somewhat 
 aroused; but when suddenly starting up, and 
 pausing for a moment, she exclaimed, " See 
 him ! he comes to hear my curses, and to look 
 on his work !" they, too, sprang to their feet, 
 and beheld the witch-like poetess, with eyes 
 starting from their sockets, and her skinny arms 
 extended, pointing at a person who stood so 
 close to the corses that his hand touched the 
 old man's head. He was carefully muflQed up, 
 and his face turned away, but a second look at 
 the diminutive figure told who he was. A mo- 
 mentary pause of terror ensued ; and Crohoore — 
 for it was no other than he — taking advantage of 
 their inaction, flapped his broad-leafed old hat 
 over his face, as if to hide some strong emotion 
 that visibly shook him, and then turning and 
 walking rapidly to the unobstructed door es- 
 caped. 
 
 The women at last shrieked wildly, and called 
 for assistance ; but, when assistance came, the in- 
 truder was beyond reach. No one could tell or 
 conjecture how he had entered or approached 
 the house; and, when the women were angrily 
 questioned as to why they had not given timely 
 
44 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 alarm, they solemnly and earnestly averred, one 
 and all, that their senses had become paralyzed, 
 fairy-stricken, in fact, by his presence. Anas- 
 thause was among them, the most eloquent and 
 impressive of the group, for she declared that, 
 the moment she saw Crohoore, the purple side 
 of her face had grown scorching hot, and the 
 ghastly side " cauld as the clay ;" and once 
 more she proffered, in support of her assertions, 
 and to sight and touch, the two-handled face, 
 that looked like an ill-baked cake, burned on 
 one side and left raw on the other. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 On the night of the murder of her father and 
 mother. Alley Dooling was startled from a sleep 
 more than usually profound, the consequence of 
 her exercise of the day and night, by becoming 
 sensible of rough personal violence. When first 
 awakened, she strove to look around her, but 
 her eyes were blindfolded ; then she tried to 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 45 
 
 rise, but a strong hand pressed heavily on her 
 chest, and some person was in the act of squeez- 
 ing violently round her mouth a tight folded 
 linen cloth ; so that not only was she effec- 
 tiially prevented froms creaming, but scarcely 
 could she even breathe. Her arms and ankles, 
 top, were firmly bound, and all struggles to 
 free herself, to speak or give alarm, proved in- 
 effectual. 
 
 When the bandage round her mouth had 
 been well secured, the weight on her chest, so 
 far as her bewildered senses could comprehend 
 what was going forward, ceased to inconvenience 
 her, and along with her day-clothes (in which, 
 with an idea of being ready dressed for Pierce 
 Shea's early call, she had lain down), poor 
 Alley was wrapt in the coverlid of the bed, and 
 then lifted up by a powerful arm. 
 f During all this she had heard no voice ; short 
 thick breathings, as of one hastily and labo- 
 riously employed, alone came against her face ; 
 but, as she was raised up, an indistinct curse, 
 grumbled in a low murmur, reached her ear, 
 and she became convinced that she was treated 
 in this ruffian sort by one not of her own sex. 
 Suddenly disturbed in so frightful a manner 
 from her sleep, excess of terror at the discovery 
 
46 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 completely overpowered her, and she fainted 
 away. 
 
 The cold and pinching blast of the winter's 
 night restored her to animation ; but her thoughts 
 continued vague, as if in a terrific dream, and 
 she was just sensible of being borne rapidly 
 along, in the clutch of some person of great 
 strength. The bandage that had been tied 
 across her mouth loosened and fell off for a 
 moment, and she screamed aloud; and suddenly 
 the person who bore her stopped, and it was 
 again fastened on with such increased pressure 
 and violence that Alley's breath and senses 
 again failed her, and she relapsed into a swoon. 
 
 When recovered from this second fit, eyes 
 and mouth were both free, all muffling having 
 been removed, her self-possession gradually re- 
 turned, and she could ascertain her situation. 
 She was on horseback, and a man's arm, from 
 behind, passed round her waist. The frosty air 
 had benumbed her flesh, and tingled even tlirough 
 her bones : her teeth chattered, and every joint 
 shook with weakness, fright, and cold. Fear- 
 fully and slowly did she now turn her head to 
 look into the face of her conductor. The moon 
 flared broadly upon that face as her eyes fixed 
 on it, and discovered the hideous features of 
 
CROHOORE OK THE BILL-HOOK. 47 
 
 Crohoore, deadly pale, distorted with passion, 
 and stained with blood. Only a few inches' 
 space was between them at this dread recog- 
 nition, and his small red eye shot fire into her 
 blue one during the hasty glance in which it 
 was made. 
 
 Shrieking, and sickened at the bottom of her 
 soul, Alley turned away her head. All the 
 hints she had previously received of his dark 
 and savage nature, and all the warnings to keep 
 him at a distance and be on her guard against 
 him, recurred to her affrighted memory, and she 
 gave herself up as utterly lost. She shrunk 
 from the rude clasp of his arm, she writhed, 
 she loathed his touch, his nearness to her, his 
 very existence. She could not bring herself to 
 speak to him, although the speech were for 
 mercy, and although persuasion was her soul's 
 only hope in her present terrible circumstances, 
 and more terrible prospects; so that for 
 some time not a word was utfered between 
 them. 
 
 At last, however, the master-impulse humbled 
 every other feehng; and, suddenly truning round. 
 Alley exclaimed : 
 
 " In the most holy name, Crohoore, where 
 are we going, and where are you dragging me 1" 
 
48 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 ''You're going to your only home, Alley, 
 where woe and sorrow wait to meet you," he 
 answered. 
 
 •' What do you mean by that ?" she resumed. 
 " Crohoore, as you hope to see the light of the 
 woi'ld to come, carry me back to my own home — 
 to my father !" 
 
 He remained silent ; from what motive, whe- 
 ther through sullennesss or cruelty, or from ab- 
 straction of thought, it was impossible to dis- 
 cover. Alley could only repeat her passionate 
 adjuration, to which the dwarf at length replied: 
 
 "Alley, Alley, you and myself, this night, 
 are two unfortunate, miserable creatures !" and 
 then he immediately increased the speed of his 
 horse, holding Alley tighter on her seat, and 
 from the swiftness of their course, and her ex- 
 hausted and agitated state, she could not con- 
 tinue the conversation. 
 
 She imagined, however, that she recognized 
 the country on each side as they passed along, 
 and that she was contiguous to her father's 
 house ; but even this the speed and her fluttered 
 state of mind rendered doubtful. In a little 
 time they proceeded at a less violent rate, and 
 then Alley thought she heard a voice calling 
 from behind;, and she screamed for assistance ; 
 
CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 49 
 
 when Crohoore, with much dexterity, holding 
 her on her seat by pressing his elbow against 
 her breast, put his hand on her mouth, and re- 
 sumed a full gallop. 
 
 Dashing from the road into the fields, they 
 had to go over the flat country, and with scarcely 
 slackened pace ascended one of the low chain of 
 hills, which, Alley now perfectly recollected, 
 were situated but about a quarter of a mile from 
 her father's house. Descending on the other 
 side, they rapidly traversed a large extent of 
 wild and dreary bog; again ascended and de- 
 scended other small hills, and continued for 
 some time their journey among them. It was 
 remarkable with what certainty Crohoore tra- 
 velled a waste of marsh and mountain so pathless 
 and difficult; his rein was, indeed, now and 
 then tightened in consequence of the difficulty 
 of the footing ; but not for a moment was he at 
 a loss to make out the proper and only way 
 through bogs, where a single false step, at one 
 side or the other, would have sunk his horse to 
 the shoulders, and something baffled, if it did 
 not entirely impede his progress. 
 
 Alley employed such occasional relaxations of 
 speed in endeavouring to move the pity of her 
 stern guardian ; but he persevered in a deep and 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
50 CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 unaccountable silence. Once or twice they 
 passed close by a cabin, of which a few were 
 scattered at a distance from each other through 
 those desolate places, scarcely distinguishable in 
 the moonlight, and on account of their similarity 
 of colour, and, indeed, material, from the turf- 
 clamps, tufts of rushes, or barren knolls, by 
 which they were surrounded ; and still hoping to 
 bring some person to her relief, Alley, in ap- 
 proaching these wretched hovels, cried out with 
 all her might, Crohoore not now interfering to 
 prevent her. But her cries were unheard ; or, 
 if heard, the inmates only crossed themselves, 
 and prayed to be delivered from the unhallowed 
 wanderers of the night. 
 
 They had crossed over one range of hills, and 
 they again pressed against another range, of 
 what the inhabitants called mountains, but which 
 were not of sufficient elevation to lay claim to 
 that title ; they were however abrupt, fatiguing 
 to ascend, barren and dreary, chequered with 
 heath and furze, and here and there a stunted 
 oak, the relics of the large woods, that about 
 fifty or sixty years before had overspread the 
 district. Through these wilds Crohoore for 
 some time journeyed, and at last, after looking 
 long and carefully around him, suddenly halted, 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 51 
 
 dismounted, and helped the suffering Alley also 
 to descend from her irksome situation. He 
 placed her on her feet, forgetting that, from cold 
 and fatigue, and misery of mind, as well as from 
 the bonds which tied her ankles, it was impos- 
 sible she could stand ; and so Alley no sooner ■ 
 touched the ground, and was deprived of his 
 support, than she fell prostrate. Instantly he 
 stooped to raise her, and his savage nature 
 seemed touched with pity ; for low meanings 
 escaped him, when he saw her tender ankles 
 cut and bleeding from the pressure and friction 
 of the rude cord that bound them. Still on his 
 knees, he hastily undid that cord ; then gave 
 liberty to her arms also, and led her a step for- 
 ward. 
 
 Alley, unmindful of every thing but her mis- 
 fortunes, had not observed that they were at the 
 door of a miserable cabin, at which Crohoore 
 stopped, and, with the butt end of a pistol which 
 he drew from his breast, knocked loudly. There 
 was a long pause, and no answer. He knocked 
 again, still louder, and to his second summons a 
 squeaking, querulous voice sounded from within, 
 asking who was there ? 
 
 " It is I — Crohoore," he answered ; the harsh 
 voice screamed some observation in a dissatisfied 
 
 d2 
 
52 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 cadence ; footsteps were then heard inside, and 
 lights shot through the chinks of a badly-made 
 and half-rotten door, which, after many shakings 
 and creakings, at last half-opened. 
 
 From the vision that appeared. Alley drew 
 back in natural terror. She had heard tales, 
 such as all country girls hear, of witches scud- 
 ding on the blast, and hiding themselves in 
 holes and corners to do deeds of wickedness ; 
 and she thought just such a being stood before 
 her. It was a crone much under the middle 
 size of women, and made still lower by an un- 
 usual bend in the back, which sent her shoulders 
 and head forward and down, almost to a level 
 with her hips. Her face might seem a parch- 
 ment mask, loosely adapted to the staring bones, 
 and therefore shrivelled up into innumerable 
 wrinkles, which ran length- ways and cross-ways, 
 and here and there, without union, beginning or 
 end ; and of this face the chin came out like a 
 pointed horn, and the mouth, when closed, was 
 but one of the many wrinkles around it; and, 
 when open, shewed bloodless gums, without 
 teeth. Matted grey hairs hung down the 
 cheeks, escaping from an old red handkerchief 
 that entirely covered her head, and was knotted 
 under the stringy throat. The rest of the figure, 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 53 
 
 with its costume, does not invite description ; it 
 was withered skin and bone, foul and disa- 
 greeable, with but a few shreds of covering. 
 The only trait about the animate mummy which 
 interested, and to which one would turn again, 
 though not for gratification, was her eyes ; and 
 they indeed possessed a strange vivacity, if not 
 energy, unfitted and unnatural to such a carcass. 
 
 She held up a lighted rush-light as Crohoore 
 entered, bearing, or rather forcing in his in- 
 stinctively resisting companion. The beldam 
 viewed them closely, a moment, with half-shut 
 eyes ; then the wrinkled lids suddenly ex- 
 panded, and while her looks, flashing on Cro- 
 hoore, expressed all the impotent frenzy of age, 
 she squeaked out in the shrillest key, 
 
 " Villain o' the world! an' you dared disobey 
 my commands ? didn't I warn you, on peril of 
 the hereafter, not to lay hands on Alley Dool- 
 ing ; Ugly sJiingawn I — be your misdeeds on 
 your own head !" 
 
 " Whisht, whisht, now, asthore," said Cro- 
 hoore, hastily, though not angrily ; and then 
 he whispered something, a few words only, yet 
 they seemed to convulse his frame through every 
 fibre. The hag whispered in her turn, and his 
 paroxysm gained its height ; he started back; 
 
54 CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 trembled still more violently, grew more deadly 
 pale,°^and cast a mournful, or, at least, strange 
 glance on the poor terrified Alley. She, eagerly 
 catching at the change that took place in the 
 features of her extraordinary conductor, again 
 tried every appeal to divert him from the infa- 
 mous intentions she believed he held towards 
 her. Flinging herself on her knees, and using 
 the Irish language, the sound and idiom of 
 which she conceived might have most effect on 
 him, — 
 
 " In the name of the God of Heaven, Cro- 
 hoore," Alley said, ** be not to me, the only 
 child of your old master and mistress, the vil- 
 lain you intend to be! think, and repent in 
 time ! restore me to my father this blessed 
 Christmas morning, and you shall not only be 
 forgiven, but, I swear by my father's soul, you 
 shall be rewarded !" 
 
 During this address Crohoore groaned fear- 
 fully, staggered backward, leaned against the 
 damp wall of the wretched hut, spread his 
 hands over his face, and Alley saw, with asto- 
 nishment and delight, tears of, she hoped, pity 
 and repentance, forcing their way through his 
 fingers, and running along the backs of his 
 hands. "You will, Crohoore." she then con- 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 55 
 
 tinned, clinging to him ; " you will take compas- 
 sion on me, and bring me home again to my 
 poor father ?'' 
 
 But now the wretched girl was, for the first 
 time, to learn the extent of her misery. Cro- 
 hoore uncovered his face, which horror, grief, 
 despair, and every frightful passion seemed to 
 agitate ; then he advanced a few steps, stood 
 over her as she knelt, and with a voice choked> 
 and almost inaudible, said, " Woe, woe be to 
 you, child of the Doolings ! and double woe to 
 myself, miserable crature that I am ! Alley, 
 Alley, you have no father, you have no mother ! 
 — their blood is swimming about them — they 
 are both murthered !" — She gave one piercing 
 shriek, and fell, in strong convulsions, on the wet 
 earthen floor. 
 
 When she recovered, she found herself in a 
 different apartment from that where she had 
 fainted, and of which the aspect was entirely 
 new to her ; she had never before seen one like 
 it. The walls around were built of solid ma- 
 sonry ; and over head, instead of the bare 
 thatch of a cabin, there was a ceiling of some 
 black timber, from the middle of which hung, by 
 a cord, part of an old metal pot, filled with 
 grease, and this fed the flame of a rag that sent 
 
56 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 its flickering and lurid beam around the un- 
 plastered sides of the ample chamber. In a 
 remote corner stood a dirty deal table, and a few 
 chairs of the commonest kind ; and on one of 
 the two squahdly furnished beds, which the 
 place also contained. Alley was lying : it ap- 
 peared extraordinary, however, that in the midst 
 of shreds and tatters, and vile furniture, the ma- 
 terials of her bed should be feathers, a luxury 
 then almost unusual, even in the houses of the 
 better sort of farmers. The unearthly looking 
 old creature, who had opened the cabin door, 
 was supporting her on the bed as she recovered, 
 and applying strong-smelling plants to her nos- 
 trils ; and over her stood Crohoore also, his 
 countenance bearing nearly the same expression 
 as when he had spoken the horrible words that 
 deprived Alley of her senses, and that still rung 
 in her ears, and rent her soul. From the as- 
 pect and presence of both her companions the 
 poor young girl again shrunk, now with a new 
 cause for aversion and terror, infinitely more 
 powerful than an}?^ she had before felt ; and in 
 this state we must leave the forlorn Alley, until, 
 in the progress of the story, she again comes 
 before us. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 57 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Meantime it is our duty to examine into the 
 truth of the account given by old Mickle, at 
 the wake, of the unhappy termination of Pierce 
 Shea's first effort for the recovery of his mis- 
 tress. 
 
 In a frame of mind little short of distraction, 
 he had set out, with his foster-brother, Andy 
 Houlohan, Shamus Whelan (a stout man, rather 
 advanced in years), and Paudge Dermody, the 
 wit (but now grave as the dullest fellow), all 
 well mounted, well armed, and resolute. The 
 day, still young, appeared lowering and cloudy, 
 as they started, and they had to penetrate a 
 dense fog that rested on the summit of the hill, 
 pointed out as that over which Crohoore had 
 made his midnight way. They traversed, all 
 that day, the bleak heights and spreading 
 marshes, of which the entire neighbouring 
 country was composed, inquiring of every per- 
 son, and exploring every spot likely to give 
 information of, or concealment to the fugitive ; 
 but, except in two instances, they found no clue. 
 
 d3 
 
58 CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 The owner of a cabin, that stood on the edge of 
 the most extensive bog they had crossed, told 
 how, during the previous night, he had been 
 scared from sleep, by loud and frightful screams ; 
 he little thought, however, that any thing mortal 
 could have traversed the lonesome and trea- 
 cherous marsh at „that untimely hour ; and a 
 load was removed from his heart, when he un- 
 derstood what had been going forward, and he 
 no longer feared to have heard the mournful 
 wail of the bocheentha, come to predict the 
 sudden death of himself, or of some dear member 
 of his family. The pursuers also met, straying 
 among the hills, the horse that had been taken 
 from Anthony Dooling's stable, half dead with 
 fatigue, and soiled with sweat and mire, still 
 iindried upon him. 
 
 This scanty information just served to con- 
 vince them that the object of their pursuit was 
 concealed somewhere in the neighbourhood, 
 but farther they were compelled to take chance 
 as their guide. The party, when night closed 
 in, had emerged from a scattered wood, that 
 for some miles ran along a ridge of hills, and 
 which they had spent a good part of the day in 
 exploring. They paused on the barren de- 
 scent, and looked around in every direction for 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 59 
 
 some roof to shelter them ; for, with the falling 
 night, wind and rain began to drive in thick 
 gusts over the desolate country, and all persuai 
 sions were lost" on Pierce to face homeward, 
 until he should have gained some tidings of his 
 Alley, even though she were hid in the bowels 
 of the earth. A black extent of bog lay beyond 
 them, running on, till, in the waning light and 
 growing mist, it seemed to mingle with the ho- 
 rizon. At the bottom of the ridge on which 
 they stood ran a mountain stream, that had its 
 source higher up in the country, among a conti- 
 nuation of the same chain of hills. When 
 crossed by the party, during the early part of the 
 day, this stream appeared no more than a puny 
 gurgling thread of water, spinning about the 
 large rocks that strewed its channel ; but the 
 channel itself was ten feet and upwards in 
 depth, and, at the least, from twenty to thirty 
 in breadth, showing that, at times, it became 
 an impetuous torrent. A little to the right of 
 the party, and lower down on the descent of the 
 hill, stood one of those uncouth square castles, so 
 frequent in Kilkenny and some neighbouring 
 counties, built most probably by the English 
 settlers of the Pale and their successors, and 
 which served the double purpose of residences 
 
GO CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 and fortresses, affording them the sole shelter 
 they could hope to find in the country, and 
 securing them from the irregular attacks of the 
 dispossessed natives, not yet supposed to be 
 reconciled to the growing sway of new masters: 
 we may add, that those castles are built all over 
 the country, in such close succession that the 
 prospect from one to the other is never inter- 
 rupted — doubtless for the purpose of spreading 
 alarm by fires, or other signals, in case of any 
 of them having been assaulted. After Pierce 
 Shea and his companions had taken a survey of 
 the district around, it appeared that the old 
 castle we have been describing was the only 
 place that offered the sudden shelter, now be- 
 coming every moment more necessary. The 
 deepest shade of night had almost fallen ; the 
 heavy wreaths left the mountain tops, and floated 
 as clouds before the summoning blast ; and the 
 rain, which hitherto had been but a spray, 
 blown upward from the damp valleys, now began 
 to fall in heavy and continued drops. To the 
 castle then, the adventurers hastened, and there 
 established their quarters for the night. A 
 ground-floor of the old building afforded shelter 
 to their horses, and the hills scanty and coarse 
 provender ; they brought timber from the wood, 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 61 
 
 and in the middle story, to which they ascended 
 by the narrow spiral stairs, a blazing fire was 
 soon lighted ; Andy Houlohan, the most provi- 
 dent of the party, displayed a well furnished 
 wallet of country fare ; Paudge Dermody, the 
 thirstiest, a big black bottle of brandy ; and all 
 collected round the blaze to partake of refresh- 
 ment and rest, which, considering the toils and 
 anxieties of the day, were certainly their due. 
 
 They soon had to congratulate themselves on 
 these precautions. The wind blew a storm, 
 and dismally howled through the doorless build- 
 ing, agitating the blaze round which they sat, 
 through the slits in the narrow walls, formerly 
 constructed rather with a view to safety than 
 convenience, or as much to serve as loopholes, 
 from which to annoy an enemy, as for windows 
 to admit the light. The rain descended in 
 sheets ; and one of the men, who had ventured 
 out for an instant, reported that it was so pitch 
 dark, he could not see a yard before hira. The 
 moon, which was in the wane, would not rise for 
 many hours ; so that, even had they met with no 
 opposition from Pierce Shea, it would have 
 proved impossible to make way homeward 
 through the dreary paths they had to travel, in 
 so gloomy a night. After their repast, the men 
 
62 CROHOORE OF TflE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 felt the influence of the fatigue they had under- 
 gone during the day ; and in a little time their 
 discourse flattened, and one by one they stretch- 
 ed themselves by the fire, and fell asleep — all 
 but Pierce Shea, the state of whose mind na- 
 turally kept him waking. His feelings were in 
 accord with the night and his situation, with the 
 desolated place of refuge, the tempest, the 
 darkness, and the weeping heavens without. 
 He lay down on the earthen floor, but could not 
 close his eyes ; he started up, and walked from 
 side to side of the waste apartment ; he leaned 
 his back against the wall ; he sat in the deep 
 recess of the window ; every position was un- 
 easy, because every one was inaction, and away 
 from the purpose in which his soul was engaged. 
 At last with no defined motive, but merely in 
 obedience to the fiery restlessness that swayed 
 him, and perhaps hoping something, he knew 
 not what, Pierce mufiled himself in his great- 
 coat, and cautiously descending the narrow 
 stairs, lest he should disturb his companions, 
 sallied out into the night, regardless of its blasts, 
 and of its drenching rain. 
 
 A kind of bellow, as if from the castle, star- 
 tled him ; and now hope came in a more certain 
 form, and he nished in. He looked into the 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 63 
 
 lower apartment ; but could see nothing through 
 the thick darkness ; and he heard nothing, ex- 
 cept the munching noise of the horses' jaws, as 
 they strove to make way through their hard 
 provender. He rapidly mounted to the place 
 where he had left his companions. The fire 
 was nearly decayed ; but light enough still re- 
 mained to show, that, with the exception of his 
 foster-brother, Andy, the men continued to sleep 
 soundly : and Andy, if not asleep, seemed be- 
 witched. On the spot where Pierce had seen 
 him stretch himself, the man now knelt, the aft 
 part of his large and gaunt person resting on 
 his heels ; his head and body thrown back, as 
 if to avoid something he feared would touch 
 him; and his left arm extended at full length, 
 to prevent a too near approach, while, with his 
 right fist desperately clenched, he smote his 
 obviously strong breast-bone, and muttered, with 
 distorted lips, and at race-horse speed, some 
 prayers in the Irish language. He remained 
 unaware of Pierce's entrance, and persevered 
 in his attitude and occupation till the young 
 man approached, and seized his out-stretched 
 arm, calling on him to tell what was the matter. 
 Andy gave a sudden plunge when his feeler 
 was touched, and in stunning accents roared out 
 
64 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 the prayers he had before only mumbled ; then, 
 withdrawing his eyes nearer home from the va- 
 cuum on which they had been set, he recognised 
 his foster-brother. But this caused no abate- 
 ment to his orisons, if we except a change in 
 the tone of delivery ; Andy continuing at 
 length, and without answering Pierce's question, 
 till he had finished the whole catalogue ; and, 
 as it is suspected, he had never burthened his 
 mind with more of any one prayer than by 
 mere force his mother compelled him to learn in 
 infancy, and as, at this time of day, even those 
 scraps were partly forgotten, poor Andy must 
 have made rather au odd jumble when he went 
 to his devotions. Pierce, over and over, re- 
 peated his inquiry, and, 
 
 " Arrah, then, master Pierce ; a-roon, is id 
 yourself J" he at last moaned out, giving, as be- 
 came his country, question for question, and 
 rising slowly from his knees, while with the tail 
 of his coat he wiped the perspiration from his 
 forehead. 
 
 "What is the matter, I say ?'' again asked 
 Pierce. 
 
 " Did'nt you see her, a-vich ?" 
 
 "Her! who?" 
 
 "That cursed — och, asv, Andrew? hauld a 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 65 
 
 guard over your tongue, and mind what you're 
 for savin' ; I mane the blessed body that was 
 here." 
 
 "Andy! God send! perhaps you mean Al- 
 ley ?" 
 
 " Mostha, but if it war Alley, it wasn't like 
 the Alley we used to see, afore now ; but the 
 could grave, it's like enough, has spiled her, for 
 good-an-all." 
 
 " What do you mean? would you drive me 
 mad, man 1 whom did you see ?" 
 
 " Come, Andy," said Paudge, who was awake 
 since the bellow Andy had emitted, when Pierce 
 bore down his arm, and who now drew towards 
 him; " Come, Andy, none o' your auld ways, 
 bud the thing aut, clever and claue, at once." 
 
 " Go on!" roared Pierce. 
 
 "Wait abit, a-chora, till I think o' myself; 
 arrah, there's no use in talkin' ; the very heart 
 in my body, within, is frightened out o' me." 
 
 Pierce stamped, " no use !" then, altering his 
 plan, he said, in a chiding tone — " So you will 
 not satisfy me, Andy J" and these words were 
 accompanied by a look of reproach and anxiety 
 that made stronger impression on the tardy An- 
 drew than could the most violent fury. 
 
 "3Iostha, only gi' me time to scrape my 
 
66 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 senses together, ma-hurp-on-duoul !"* — oh, 
 Chrosh-Christha !" and he drew his thumb over 
 his forehead, as, conscience-smitten at his own 
 untimely impiety, he looked around : "we must 
 bar cursin' an' swearin' till we get out o' this, 
 any how ; bud if ye war to see what myself seen, 
 you wouldn't spake a word fur this good twelve- 
 month to come ; well, Pierce, a-roon, I'll thry 
 to think iv id, an don't be lookin' so dushmal : 
 I'd betther begin at the first settin'-out : well : I 
 stretched myself down here afore the fire, an' 
 fell a-sleepin' ; whenever it happens that I don't 
 sleep in my own nat'ral bed, Pierce, agra, I 
 always an' ever have some unlooky dhrames; 
 an' so id turned out this time. I thought to 
 myself I seen poor Alley lying on the flure, for- 
 nent me, a corpse like, only there was no one to 
 wake her, or keenth her ; an' some baste, like a 
 cat, bud as big as a year-ould calf, at his work 
 pickin' out her eyes, an' makin' av/ay wid 'em; 
 an' I dhramed Alley got up, iv a sudd'n, an' 
 came over to me, without walkin', an' never an 
 eye in her head, only the bare sockets ; an' then 
 I gives my bawl, as I thought to myself, an' was 
 broad awake in a minute; bud, it's well I wish 
 
 * A curse. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 67 
 
 I never stopped sleepin' an' dhrarain, ever sence, 
 bad as it was to me at that present time. 
 
 " When I awoke, sui-e I thought, at the first 
 goin' ofi^, I was still snorin', an' didn't waken 
 at all, an' I rubbed my eyes hard, wid my 
 knuckles, to make sartin ; fur it was then I seen 
 what was enough to kill dead any Christhan 
 cratur — stand in' close by you, Shamus," Sha- 
 mus startled, his flesh began to quiver, and his 
 strong grey hair to stir his old hat; "standin' 
 close by you there was a thigha,* fresh cum 
 out o' the ground, fur the windin'-sheet had the 
 clay all over id ; her eyes, as red as fire, starin' 
 into mine ; an' not the laste like any iv ours, blest 
 be the hearers, bud, for all the world, as if you 
 rammed two red coals into a schuU you'd get in 
 a church-yard, or a place of the kind ; an' there 
 was nothin' on the fatures iv her, or id, or what- 
 ever the duoul — (och ! whisht, Andy ; an' don't 
 let one of us say the duoul's name again fur the 
 wide world,) nothin' bud the bare bones; myself 
 gave one screech, when she put out her hand, 
 wid the mate scraped as clane from id as any 
 of us could scrape a bone the hungriest day he 
 ever saw; an' then, not a word I could let out; 
 an' she stepped across the fire, an' was for com- 
 * Ghost, 
 
68 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 in' straight upon me, when God put it into my 
 head to bless myself, an' say my prayers ; an 
 faith, the first word was enough fur her ; aha ! 
 she didn't like that sort o' talk I'm thinkin' — 
 (but that's betuxt oursefs); its little iv id goes 
 far wid'm, where she came from ; so, out she 
 druv through that weeny split in the wall as asy 
 as myself ud go out in the dour, beyant ; an' — 
 bud, tunther-an'-ouns ! (God forgiv' me !) du ye 
 mind that ?" 
 
 On his knees Andy again dropped, and into 
 his old position ; and, not forgetting his prayers, 
 extended his arm, and stared in a paroxysm of 
 terror, as if on some object, towards the gloom 
 that pervaded the entrance to the apartment. 
 The others, at once conceiving the cause of 
 this sudden change in his manner, slowly turned 
 round, and saw an object, in whitish drapery, 
 move along the passage leading down the stairs 
 of the building. Pierce Shea was the only one 
 who had suflficient hardihood instantly to follow : 
 the rest stood without motion or word : alone, 
 therefore, he ran forward, and was quickly lost 
 in the darkness without. 
 
 This roused the anxiety, if not the courage of 
 A.ndy, who loudly blubbered forth, " Oh, mur- 
 ther, murther, boys ! an' will ye lave him to his 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 69 
 
 death? Musha, then, won't you do nothin' 
 to help the gorgoon Shamus ? Paudge, won't 
 you run afther him ? Mille murther ! is this the 
 way ye sarve the poor fellow ?" 
 
 Paudge seemed the most collected of the 
 three ; as for old Shamus he looked quite con- 
 founded with terror, and could only ask, 
 
 "For what ud we go! what good ud the 
 likes iv us do against a thigha ?" 
 
 •' Murther !" still cried Andy, " he'll be bet 
 to chaff ! och ! an' nobody near him to put him 
 in mind iv his prayers ! Paudge, won't you go ?'' 
 " An' what's the raison you don't go yourself, 
 Andy ?" asked Paudge, able to enjoy the frenzy 
 of his more credulous companion, and exert his 
 own natural wish for a joke. 
 
 " Its fitter fur him, nor fur us," said Shamus. 
 " Not a bit," rejoined Paudge. " only he 
 knows the thigha has more ill-blood to him than 
 to any other, 'case why, she was Hstenen' to all 
 he said iv her." Andy groaned an assent. 
 
 " But come, boys," Paudge went on ; " we'll 
 go altogether, to end disputes," 
 
 '* For certain that's the only way,'' said Andy ; 
 bud you, Shamus, agra, you have your prayers 
 betther nor myself or Paudge by far ; little 
 blame to you, as you're ould enough to be the 
 
70 CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 father iv us, an' had the time for id ; an' so, 
 Shamus, you'll ^o first." 
 
 " To be sure he will," said Paudge, " there 
 isn't a man in the parish has 'em so pat, an,' as 
 the soggarth* says, to your shame an' mine, 
 Andy." 
 
 Shamus's mettle was touched in the only sus- 
 ceptible point. On a small scale he played the 
 saint among his friends, with a zeal worthy of 
 a more conspicuous sphere of action ; his cha- 
 racter was now at stake, and not even the most 
 mortal terror could sway him from keeping it 
 up ; so, 
 
 " Never say it again," answered Shamus in 
 a laughable effort at a bold tone and manner ; 
 and out of the chamber he issued, repeating the 
 Lord's Prayer in Irish, and in a loud voice ; 
 Paudge followed, and Andy brought up the 
 rear, from pure apprehension of being left by 
 himself. 
 
 They paused at the head of the twisted stair- 
 case, and " Whisht !" said Shamus, in an em- 
 phatic whisper. 
 
 " Go on with the prayers, Shamus, honey," 
 said Andy, very imploringly. 
 
 : * Priest. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 71 
 
 " Come down ! come down !" cried Pierce, 
 from the apartment below. 
 
 Oh, Veeha-vaugha!"* exclaimed Andy," she 
 has a hould iv him, an' he won't have a bone 
 left !" and all at once abandoning- his personal 
 fears, in his strong love for his foster-brother, 
 he ran forward, josthng the others aside, and 
 continued with such impetuosity that he tum- 
 bled nearly from the top to the bottom of the 
 stairs. But, though severely bruised, Andy 
 was on his legs in a moment, loudly vocife- 
 rating, 
 
 " Pierce Shea! — Pierce Shea, a-chorra !" 
 
 '' Here I am, Andy," answered Pierce, much 
 nearer to Andy than he had imagined, who 
 started back, and shouted still louder, at the 
 sudden and close sound of his voice. 
 
 " But are you dead or alive, a-vourneeu ?" he 
 continued, recovering his senses. 
 
 *' I'm no worse than I was, Andy." 
 
 " Are you sure you're not spiled, entirely, 
 a-cuishla-ma-chree ?" groping about in the im- 
 penetrable darkness, then coming in contact 
 with Pierce, and feeUng him all over. 
 
 "An' didn't the thigha give you never a 
 sthuch, or bate you, at-all-at-all ?" 
 
 * Virgin-mother. 
 
72 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 "I told yon before, Andy, I have met no 
 hurt nor harm." 
 
 " Musha, then. Godspeed her ; bud" — lower- 
 ing his voice, and feeling for Pierce's ear, which 
 he held while he whispered into it, " bud 1 hope 
 she's gone, for-good-an'-ail ?" 
 
 " She's in this room, whatever she is ;" — 
 Pierce stood at the door of an inner apartment. 
 
 " Och, presarve us ! — hadn't we betther lave 
 her her own way, a-vich ?" the other men now 
 bobbed up against him ; he had not heard their 
 approach, the wind howled so loudly ; and, 
 
 " Murther ! — who's that .'"' he bawled out. 
 
 " It's only myself, Andy," answered Paudge. 
 
 " You must go back, Andy," resumed Pierce, 
 " and get me a lighted stick from the fire; I'll 
 search this place." 
 
 " Oh, then. Pierce, agra, don't think iv sich 
 a thing, if you have a regard for me." 
 
 " Or," continued Pierce, " you three guard 
 the door where I now stand, and I'll be down 
 to you in a minute." He re-ascended the stairs. 
 
 " He's for ruinin' himself!" exclaimed Andy, 
 then in confidential whisper to the others — 
 
 " An', boys, wouldn't we be the three greatest 
 omadhauns* in the world to be stoppin' any ho- 
 nest thigha that manes us no harm ?" 
 * Naturals. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. V^J 
 
 His companions silently assented, and all with- 
 drew towards the stairs, leaving unobstructed 
 the passage through the outward door. There 
 was a rustle ; they elbowed each other, Andy 
 scarcely able to keep in his voice ; and a moment 
 after they saw distinctly the much-dreaded 
 thigha make her exit through the open 
 door into the moonshine abroad, which had just 
 begun to struggle to the earth through the thick 
 clouds and drizzUng rain, and of which they were 
 the more sensible, as it formed so strong a contrast 
 with the intense darkness in the apartment. 
 
 " Paudge ! did you see any thing V asked 
 Andy. 
 
 " For sartin I did, Andy." 
 
 " Shamus, did you ?" 
 
 " Oh, oh !" moaned Shamus. 
 
 " It's nigh-hand mornin'," Andy continued, 
 " and she can't come back, plaise God." 
 
 " I hope not, blessed be his holy name," said 
 Shamus. 
 
 " An' wasn't id a great good loock we w^arn't 
 in her road, Shamus? she'd cripple us for ever. 
 Bud boys, fur your lifes, don't tell poor Pierce a 
 word iv her goin' out ; he'd be thrapsin' afther 
 her thro' the rain an' wind, an' get his kiljin' ; 
 little duv we know where she'd entice him, or if 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
74 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 we'd ever see his face again ; don't let on we 
 seen her at all." 
 
 " You spake raison," they replied, 
 
 Pierce's foot was now heard descending; and 
 he found his valiant men on their post. In his 
 hand he bore a brand from the fire, but it 
 emitted no flame, and of course gave no light. 
 He entered the dark inner room, followed by 
 the others, with their newly acquired courage, 
 derived from the certainty of having nothing to 
 fear. Blowing with his breath, he endeavoured 
 to create a glare ; the brand flickered a httle, 
 but not enough to enable him to distinguish any 
 object, and he gave up the task. 
 
 " We have no more wood to light a new 
 tire," said Pierce, '* but here will we watch till 
 morning dawns ;" and all expostulation was use- 
 less to turn him from his purpose. 
 
 The " tardy-gaited night" wore away, and 
 the dull and cheerless beams of a damp winter's 
 morning slowly crept over the drooping scene 
 without. But the light brought to Pierce's 
 mind no elucidation of the mystery of the dark- 
 ness ; he searched and searched, and had his 
 labour for his pains, the men closely keeping 
 their own secret. 
 
 He ordered them to prepare for a renewed 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 75 
 
 journey after Crohoore and Alley, resolving to 
 spend this day even more assiduously than the 
 former one, as his spirit was lashed almost to 
 madness at the thought of the fruitless lapse of 
 time since his mistress had been torn from him. 
 The men engaged themselves with the horses, 
 and Pierce walked out to view the promise of the 
 morning. He had been but a few minutes gone, 
 when they heard a loud shout, some distance from 
 the castle ; they hurried out to learn the cause. 
 
 Pierce was flying down the descent of the 
 hill, like the eagle sweeping on his quarry, and 
 at some distance before, peculiarly distinguish- 
 able by his shuffling movement, yet at the top of 
 man's utmost speed, darted forward Crohoore 
 the murderer. He had the skirt of his heavy 
 outside coat slung across one arm, and in the 
 other hand he held a short gun. 
 
 "There they are, at it, after all! there they 
 are !" the men exclaimed, pausing almost at the 
 first step that commanded a view of the fierce 
 lace ; and, indeed, the distance between them 
 and the contenders rendered useless any imme- 
 diate attempt at approach ; for the contest must 
 have been ended before they could come up to 
 either. At least so they seemed to think ; or 
 else consternation at the sudden occurrence 
 
 e2 
 
76 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 overpowered their senses, and fixed them to the 
 spot. 
 
 " Run, run, Crohoore-na-bilhoge !" exclaimed 
 Andy, clapping his hands, " for the swiftest 
 foot in Clarah is afther you !'' — 
 
 " An run your best too. Pierce Shea !" 
 echoed Paudge, "for your mother's son never 
 had such a match before him !" 
 
 " He does run his best," shouted old Shamus, 
 " an' cannot gain an inch on the sheeog /" 
 
 " Dar-a-christh ! no! but he loses many!" 
 rejoined Paudge. 
 
 "The hill-wather, sent down by the night's 
 hard rain, is now afore 'em both, and that must 
 end id !" — Andy went on with increased ener- 
 gy ; — "The banks are brim-full! — see how it 
 teai's along, over stone and rock, a good eight 
 yards across ! — mort'l man can't clear it ! — Aye, 
 Pierce, agra, there you'll have him ! — run, run, 
 an' don't give him the turn to the bridge ! — ma 
 bouchal you war I run ! — dar Dieu ! bud it's a 
 wicked race between them !" — 
 
 Here all the men at last set forward to the 
 scene of struggle : Paudge crying out as he 
 bounded along — 
 
 " Hould him there now, master Pierce, an' 
 we'll tie him well for you !" — 
 
 The fugitive had gained the verge of the 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 77 
 
 boiling torrent; he paused a second, gave a 
 glance behind, to measure his distance from his 
 pm'suer ; pitched over his gun, flung off his out- 
 side coat, and drew back some yards for a run. 
 This delay brought Pierce Shea within a few 
 feet of his game ; panting, and already antici- 
 pating a seizure, his arm was extended ; his 
 fingers touched Crohoore's shoulder ; he shouted 
 out, when the pursued flew forward, again won 
 the brink, bounded from it like a bird, and 
 cleared the dangerous water. Pierce was at 
 its edge as Crohoore's feet lightly landed on the 
 other side; he did not hesitate, but also drew 
 back, ran, made the spring, fell headlong in, 
 and was swept away with resistless fury. 
 
 The men behind cried out in terror and an- 
 guish. Crohoore had wheeled round after his 
 leap, as if conscious of his safety, and saw his 
 pursuer whelmed in the roaring torrent. In- 
 stantly he ran with its course. The young man 
 disappeared, rose again, flung his arms convul- 
 sively about, gave a piteous and despairing cry ; 
 and once more the muddy wave rolled, shriek- 
 ing as if in triumph, over him. Crohoore 
 gained, still running, a spot where, at his side, 
 the wild stream struck and eddied against the 
 bank ; and there he stopped, his eye firmly 
 watching the waters, and his gun pointed. 
 
78 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 Again the men called out, and Andy Houlo- 
 han, in a key above the rest, exclaimed, 
 
 " May my sowl never see glory, but he'll 
 shoot him when he rises !" — and, on the word, 
 Andy covered Crohoore with a pistol, and 
 pulled the trigger. The flint only struck fire. 
 Crohoore, though he must have been aware- 
 of Andy's movement, did not notice it ; 
 but still stood fixedly on the watch ; and there 
 was no time to aim another pistol at him, when 
 the drowning man, whirled violently by the 
 current came thump, against the bank, and a 
 second time rose to the surface. Crohoore, on 
 his knee, in an instant, reached out the gun, 
 stopped, and wheeled him in to the eddy, from 
 the fury of the stream, and, then seizing Pierce 
 by the hair, drew him up, to all appearance 
 gone for ever. 
 
 But, placing the helpless head on his knee, 
 and letting it hang downwards, Crohoore shook 
 him, till the water rushed out of his mouth and 
 nose, and a heavy moan bespoke returning 
 life ; then he rubbed his temples and his hands; 
 placed him sitting with his back against a thick 
 and liigh tuft of rushes, and deliberately ad- 
 vanced to the verge of the water, as if to 
 speak with the men at the other side. They, 
 utterly surprised and confounded, shrunk, al- 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 79 
 
 though the wide torrent was between, a few 
 steps backward ; they knew not what to think ; 
 they had expected to see him do another murder. 
 
 Crohoore addressed them. 
 
 "For what stop ye there? — Speed your 
 ways round by the bridge, an' never mind the 
 leap ; I can't stop here, an' Pierce Shea wants a 
 hand to help him ;" and he turned to go away. 
 
 " Stand your ground, Crohoore !" — said An- 
 dy, who, now that no thigha was in question, 
 might be called a brave fellow ; — " stand your 
 ground ! — or, budge an inch, this way or that, 
 an' I'll send the contents o' this through your 
 body !" — and he presented a musquet. 
 
 Crohoore paused a moment, his face turned to 
 them, and smiled in savage scorn and indif- 
 ference ; when he moved again, Andy's gun, 
 and two pistols held by Paudge and Shamus, 
 were snapped at him ; but only snapped, for, as 
 in the former case, the powder did not even 
 blaze in the pans. He, a second time, faced 
 round, however, pushed the hat from his eyes, 
 and approached as near as the water would let 
 him. 
 
 " You're just a set of sprissauns,''^ he said : 
 " do you think I'd stop where I am, if I had 
 
 * Silly fellows. 
 
so CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 any fear your guns could do me barm ? — the 
 life o' one o' ye is now in my hands^ if I had a 
 mind to take it ;" and, to confirm his words, he 
 fired his piece into the air, deliberately reloaded, 
 and while so employed added, 
 
 " Do as I bid you ; bring the gor^oon where 
 he can have heat and comfort, or his death be oo 
 your heads^ not mine :" and Croboore finally 
 turned away, walked leismrely over the bog, 
 and, crossing a near eminence to the left, was 
 lost to their view, long before the men, though 
 they ran almost as soon as he moved, had gained 
 the rustic bridge which, at a considerable dis- 
 tance up the stream, gave safe passage to the 
 other side. 
 
 Pierce Shea was conveyed home, in a very 
 exhausted state. The torture of bis mind and 
 the sufferings of his body broraght on,^ as the old 
 chronicler at the wake had truly related, a bad 
 fever ; when past danger, his recovery was 
 slow, owing to his impatience to be well; and 
 two months elapsed before he was able to renew 
 the search for his mistress. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. SI 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 But while Pierce himself was rendered inca- 
 pable of pursuing the ravisher of his mistress, a 
 substitute appeared in the person of one from 
 whom no such zeal or friendship could have 
 naturally been expected. 
 
 Jack Doran was the son of an opulent gen- 
 tleman farmer, who lived two miles nearer to the 
 city of Kilkenny than Ned Shea, Pierce's father, 
 or Tony Dooliug. His sire we may call a pro- 
 fligate old fellow : he had never married, and, of 
 his many offspring, all were illegitimate. Rear- 
 ed up without a mother's care, and with the 
 loose example of his father before his eyes, it is 
 not to be wondered that Jack lacked morals : 
 accordingly, he was known as a dashing fellow ; 
 to use the local idiom, " a tatterin', tearin' fel- 
 low ;" dressing well ; doing what he liked ; 
 riding a great active horse ; and the altogether 
 of his appearance and figure a medium between 
 the blood of the neighbouring town and the 
 rustic houlamskeech,* whose glory was gathered 
 
 * Boulamskeech. — Some perversion now prevails of the use 
 
82 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-IIOOK. 
 
 by fighting' at fairs and patterns, and drinking 
 inordinate potations of bad beer, in hedge ale- 
 houses. Not that Jack himself did not now and, 
 then condescend to eclipse at a pattern ; and 
 then, happy and envied was the girl who had 
 him for a dance ; though, it is added, he often 
 left her cause to rue her vanity. Wherever he 
 was, he would be king : and king he was 
 acknowledged to be, even in title ; Rhiah Do- 
 ran, or King Doran, being generally one of his 
 appellations. Then, although no vulgar fighter. 
 Jack could command, at pleasure, all the fighting 
 " boys," that is, the most wicked or troublesome 
 fellows in the barony ; and absolute reign he 
 had, just as he wished it ; none dared say him 
 nay ; for treason' to Hhiah Dorah begat a broken 
 head. In person he was robust and well formed ; 
 but with features hard and harsh, and disa- 
 greeable to look at. From his father he had 
 plenty to spend, without doing any thing for it, 
 as indeed, on the same easy terms, had his 
 numerous brothers and half-brothers : none of 
 them ever attending, in any way, to the old 
 gentleman's extensive and profitable farms, from 
 one end of the year to the other. How that 
 
 of this word. Its ancient meaning was fine — shield -striker ; 
 its present we have glanced at above. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 83 
 
 liberal giver, as well as begetter, contrived to 
 keep all this glory up, in his own person, for he 
 lived as gaily and as idly as any of his offspring, 
 and in their persons too, appeared to many, not- 
 withstanding his considerable land profits, rather 
 surprising. He and they evidently lived above 
 his ostensible means ; yet nor he nor they owed 
 a shilling so any one ; and head-rents were duly 
 settled, tithe-proctors and tax-gatherers defied, 
 and the old sinner and his brood paid their way, 
 right and left, as they went along, in a dashing 
 hand-gallop to — the devil. He had a hidden 
 mine of wealth, it was said ; he had found a 
 downright pot, choke-full of money : and the 
 story was differently told ; but thus by himself: 
 Passing by a monastic ruin, in a neighbouring 
 town, one moonshine night, or morning rather, 
 the old gentleman heard voices within in earnest 
 conversation. The singularity of such a cir- 
 cumstance made him stop. He stole softly to 
 the building, peeped in, and saw three men 
 busily employed in digging the rubbish. They 
 wrought hard, and not in silence ; and from 
 their conversation he could discover they were 
 digging for nothing more or less than a huge 
 pot of gold, which one of thera had three times 
 
84 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 dreamt was buried in that very place. Suddenly 
 they stopped ; and — 
 
 " God save our sowls," said the smallest of 
 the three, " here's something hollow under my 
 spade." " Clear the earth away, quick," said 
 another ; and they then stooped into the hole 
 they had made, and with much puffiing and 
 blowing lifted up something, and were just about 
 to place it on the ground, — 
 
 "When," quoth old Mr. Doran, "a loud 
 screech came from the hole, and then a flash of 
 lightning, and away the three ran, laving spade, 
 and pick -ax, and every thing, behind 'em ; the 
 cowardly thiefs, that had'nt the courage to stay 
 a moment, and be rich men ; for the blessed 
 name, mentioned by one of 'em, banished the 
 spirit of the person that put all the money 
 there, and, till that moment, had been watching 
 it ; and he was flying off" before their faces, 
 when they cut and ran. I could do no less 
 than step in after them, and take care of the 
 pot ; it was too heavy to carry home with me ; 
 so I only hid it out of the way, for that time ; 
 and many's the night after it cost me to remove 
 it, little by little, to my own house." 
 
 From this source, then, it would appear, the 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 85 
 
 old gentleman continued easily to feed his own 
 and his sons' extravagance ; turning to a spend- 
 thrift account that which might have been bet- 
 ter employed, if, as he himself candidly ex- 
 pressed it, the original finders had just had the 
 heart to brave the spirit's scream for the loss of 
 
 his treasure. 
 
 Now, Jack Doran, or Rhiah Doran, eldest 
 
 son and hope, by the way, of this lucky old 
 night-walker, once danced with Alley Dooling 
 at a wedding, and became desperately ena- 
 moured. Her then almost childish vanity was 
 pleased at this well turned flattery, and, not 
 weighing consequences, she foolishly coquetted 
 with him. Jack, though a constant declaimer 
 against the shackled state, vouchsiifed, after 
 some hard conflicts with himself, to ask her of 
 her father ; but, notwithstanding the honour 
 intended, his reception was none of the best. 
 Old Tony fell into an unseemly passion ; turned 
 him from the door by the shoulders ; reproached 
 him with his birth ; set the dogs at his heels, 
 and commanded him " never to cross the 
 threshold again, as long as his name was Jack 
 Doran." But, worse than all this. Jack got a 
 glimpse of his fair tormentor, while thus en- 
 during for her sake, and she seemed to enjoy his 
 
86 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 disgrace ; he saw her titter and point at him, 
 and then, with mock gravity, make him a part- 
 ing adieu. 
 
 No matter; Rhiah Doran was not so easily 
 to be put off, in such a way. He summoned 
 his liege men, and had recourse to a method 
 then in almost daily practice, and even at this 
 day of frequent occurrence ; he watched his 
 oppoi'tunity ; made a forced enhve ; and, at the 
 head of his bravos, took Alley by "force from her 
 father's house. 
 
 It was the harvest season, and Pierce Shea 
 had been to Kilkenny to hire a number of 
 reapers, who at that season always repair in 
 swarms to the streets of large towns, awaiting 
 bidders : and he was returning home with them, 
 when the screams of a woman drew his notice, 
 and Jack Doran came forward surrounded by 
 his myrmidons, bearing Alley before him on 
 horseback. Her well-known voice called on 
 Pierce for aid. He sprung to her, seized the 
 horse by the bridle, dragged Jack from the 
 saddle, and Alley fell into his gallant arms. 
 Then rose the storm of battle. Pierce seizing a 
 sickle from one of his followers, and with Alley 
 hanging on one arm, bravely defended himself 
 with the other ; his reapers manfully assisted 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 87 
 
 him ; every sickle was unslung ; and they fought 
 as *' reapers descended to the harvest of death," 
 rather than to the cutting of the peaceful crops 
 that awaited their gathering. 
 
 But they were inferior in numbers, as also in 
 desperation, to Doran's party, and, we may add, 
 in arms, and the arts of using them : for the 
 murderous alpeens, wielded by the most expe- 
 rienced hands, and blithe and ready for just 
 such a field, came down on every side. Victory 
 seemed to declare for Jack ; who now, watching 
 his time, aimed a crushing blow at Pierce, still 
 encumbered by his senseless charge. The 
 young man partly broke its force with his sickle, 
 but it nevertheless wounded him severely in the 
 temple ; and in return he gave his assaulter a 
 frightful gash, that laid the cheek open from eye 
 to jaw ; tauntingly remarking, at the same time, 
 that he thus bestowed on him a mark that, one 
 day or other, would help to hang him. 
 
 In this doubtful state of the battle, a timely 
 reinforcement, headed by old Tony Dooling, 
 and his neighbour, old Ned Shea, came up ; 
 and Doran and his army were driven from the 
 field, and Alley borne home in triumph by her 
 lover ; both covered with blood ; he, with his 
 own and Rhia Doran's, and she with the warm 
 
88 CROHUORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 stream that flowed from bis temples. — This ad- 
 venture extinguished altogether Alley's desire 
 for extensive conquests, and her undivided 
 heart was gratefully given to her wounded 
 champion and preserver. During his cure she 
 was his attendant, and dressed his wound with 
 her own pretty hands ; but her soft smile, her 
 tearful eye, and perhaps the honey of her lip — 
 but of this one cannot be positive, as young 
 maidens scarcely ever wish for more than one 
 witness on such occasions — tended more to his 
 recovery than all the salvos and cataplasms made 
 up by all the old doctresses in the parish ; 
 though many there were of great celebrity as 
 rural mtdtcins in the neighbourhood. 
 
 At the time of our history, such an outrage as 
 that perpetrated by Jack Doran was looked 
 upon more as a chivalrous exploit, deserving a 
 degree of praise for the danger to be run and 
 the courage and boldness necessary in the exe- 
 cution, than as a breach of the law, subjecting 
 the doers to the law's most awful punishment : 
 we question if, to this moment, the technical, 
 " abduction," has any meaning or translation 
 among even the second or third generations of 
 the same people. Anthony Dooling took, there- 
 fore, no legal notice of the transaction, thinking 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 89 
 
 that the ill success of the enterprize, and the 
 ugly wound inflicted on the principal actor, 
 were a sufficient visitation. 
 
 This affair took place in the harvest before 
 the opening of the story, and is here related, in 
 order that the following dialogue may be under- 
 stood. The speakers were old Ned Shea and 
 Jack Doran ; the scene in Shea's house ; the 
 accompaniment a huge jug of strong ale, home- 
 brewed, of course, and then the only common 
 drink of those who could not every day afford 
 wine. 
 
 " Give me your hand. Jack ; Dhar law ma 
 chordius chreete /* but I'll have a hearty shake 
 at it ; a good right you have to be the bitter 
 enemy of all belonging to Tony Dooling — rest 
 his sowl ! — and to me and mine, and where's the 
 man but yourself ud be the friend instead of 
 the foe I — My notion of you always was that 
 you were a scatter-brain-o'-the-divil, a raking, 
 roUoking fool of a fellow, but with the heart in 
 the right place, and that makes up for all : I- 
 had a drop o' the same blood in me, myself, 
 once upon a time, as every body knows.'' 
 
 *■' For what should I keep up my ill-will, 
 
 * '' By the hand of my gossip ! " a common asseveration 
 among the old folk. 
 
90 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 Ned ? Poor Tony used me badly, to be sure ; 
 but he's now in his grave ; and we hold no 
 malice to the dead. As to Pierce, poor fellow, 
 he did no more to me than I'd have done my- 
 self to him, had I met him on the same spot, 
 running' away with m)' colleen* from me : and 
 the reaping he gave me," holding up his j&nger to 
 his seamed cheek, which had considerably drawn 
 the muscles of the mouth at that side of the face, 
 and now, when he assumed a careless grin, to 
 suit his careless words, gave a twisted and ra- 
 ther hideous expression to the seat of risibility — 
 " why, it was only to say, ' thank you kindly, 
 Jack,' for what I lent him, a minute before. I 
 was doting foolish about Alley, Ned, at that 
 time ; and am no ways backward to say I have 
 a hankering regard for her, to this day ; but I 
 didn't know that herself and Pierce were con- 
 tracted, or I'd have run my hand into the fire, 
 rather than do what I did. I thought she had 
 no great dislike to my ugly face — it wasn't so 
 ugly, then, as it is now, you know" — and he 
 grinned again, in such sort that, though it must 
 have been meant to make a good impression, 
 old Ned felt uneasy and queerish, and shifted 
 himself on his chair — " and I thought Tony — 
 * CoUent, young lass. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 91 
 
 rest his sowl ! — the only bar between us. But 
 all's past and gone, and forgot, and forgiven ; 
 and I'll show her and Pierce that I love them 
 both still, as I told you before ; for I'll turn the 
 country upside-down to give her to the boy of 
 her heart : 'bad end to me but I will !" 
 
 " Och ! never fear you, ma boucJial ! and it's 
 your own self can do it !" exclaimed Ned Shea, 
 again clasping the hand of his guest. 
 
 " Yes, Ned ; I make bold to say there's not 
 that other man in the country able to hunt her 
 out so soon as myself; ' the boys' are ready to go 
 thro' fire and water at the turn of my hand, and 
 we have them far and near, at a pinch ; and it 
 must go hard if that limb-o'-the-divil, Crohoore, 
 can hold out against me, when once I set about 
 ferretting him ; which I will do, day and night, 
 from this blessed moment," 
 
 " Slaun-tha-gutli, Jack ! I hope poor Pierce 
 will live to give you the thanks you deserve ; 
 but the gorgoon is in a bad way now Jack ;" 
 the old man let a tear drop into his cup ; — " [ 
 pray God to lave me my only child ; but, living 
 or dead, he'll never be the same to me if Alley 
 is gone from us, or, what's worse, a ruined cra- 
 ture : come, Jack, here's long life and prospe- 
 
92 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 rity to you, and may you have the present wish 
 of your heart!" — 
 
 " Thank you, thank you, Ned ; and now 
 fill again." He stood up and raised his glass, 
 while he slowly said — " A speedy up-rise to 
 Pierce, and, when he recovers, may he get 
 Alley from my hand just as I'd like to give 
 her!"— 
 
 They both gulped down the toast, holding 
 each other's hand ; and, as he resumed his seat, 
 Jack gave the old man's an. additional squeeze 
 of great vehemence, while he exclaimed — 
 
 " Ruin to my soul, Ned Shea, but that is the 
 present wish of my heart." 
 
 Who and of what kind were "the boys," 
 upon whose assistance Doran so confidently 
 reckoned, now seems an inquiry of some weight 
 and interest. 
 
 The time of our story is placed in that period 
 when white-boyism first began to appear in 
 Ireland. Labouring under the excessive penal 
 code then in almost full operation, though since 
 partly repealed, and excluded by one of its 
 enactments from even an opportunity to become 
 educated, and so gain an enlightened, or at 
 least temperate view of their own situation, the 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 93 
 
 Irish peasantry, neglected, galled, and hard- 
 driven, in poverty, bitterness, and ignorance, 
 without competent advisers, without leaders a 
 step above themselves, and scarcely with an ob- 
 ject, wildly endeavoured to wreak vengeance 
 upon, rather than obtain redress from, the local 
 agents of some of the most immediate hardships 
 that maddejied them. First of all, there was, 
 doubtless, a religious frenzy to urge them on. 
 They saw their creed denounced, their form of 
 worship, under heavy penalties, interdicted, and 
 they knew that some years before their priests 
 had been hunted like foxes, and forced to hide 
 in caves and other places of concealment, from 
 the keen scent and vengeance of the most insig- 
 nificant professors of the rival religion, who, 
 with impunity, took arms in their hands to en- 
 force the rigid letter of an almost exterminating 
 law, still to their knowledge unrepealed. ' In 
 the very district in which the scene of our tale 
 is laid, — and the anecdote is put forward as 
 one laying claim to strict belief, — a rustic con- 
 gregation had once assembled, with their priest, 
 in the open air, to perform their devotions, when 
 three or four mean mechanics of the other pro- 
 fession appeared, with guns in their hands, fired 
 among the crowd, killed some, and wounded 
 
94 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 the clergyman, as, like the Scotch covenanter 
 of old, he preached to his flock in the wilder- 
 ness. 
 
 Such occurrences operating upon the mind 
 of the Avretched and uneducated peasant, who 
 had not intellect or patience to weigh logical 
 distinctions, begot a hatred to the opposite 
 creed, as rancorous as it was whole and entire ; 
 he hated it because it was the privileged one; 
 because his own was persecuted ; because he 
 attributed to its spirit the civil excommunica- 
 tion against him and his priests, and even the 
 petty and gratuitous annoyances he suffered from 
 its lowest professors. And in such a state of 
 feeling he found himself, while already ground 
 down by unnatural rack-rents, compelled to 
 contribute to the support, in splendour and su- 
 periority, of that very rival church : in fact, to 
 pay to its ministers the hard-earned pittance he 
 could not afford to his own : and this view of 
 his situation first helped to make the Irish pea- 
 sant a white-boy. 
 
 But perhaps the exquisite tyranny of the 
 merciless being, into whose hands the collection 
 of tithes had fallen, gave the immediate spur to 
 his headlong, and often savage course : and, 
 with this supposition, Peery Clancy, tithe-proctor, 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 95 
 
 at the era of our history, for the parish of Clarah, 
 stands at once before us. 
 
 Having failed in every speculation of early 
 life, and become old without credit to himself; 
 having been twice in jail, once for debt and 
 once for sheep-stealing, Peery Clancy, at fifty 
 years of age, blazed forth a tithe-proctor. He 
 was a waddling, lively old fellow, with a curious 
 struggle of expression in his hard features, and 
 a queer jumble in his manners. The stern 
 bully was on his pursed brow and in his clench 
 ed teeth ; but, when you looked fixedly at him, 
 there appeared, in his rambling eye, a shuflfling 
 consciousness that he had not earned your good 
 opinion, as well as in the general wincing and 
 uneasiness of his person, particularly in the 
 awkward rising and falling, and see-sawing of 
 his arm, as he spoke to you, something like the 
 fidgets of a shame-faced child, that often dreaded 
 and deserved a whipping. A certain air of 
 purse-pride ran, meantime, through all this : 
 and, once in his presence, you would disagree- 
 ably feel he was a man who, however aware he 
 might be of the contempt of the world, pos- 
 sessed, in spite of obloquy, or even of the threat 
 and danger to which he stood exposed, reso- 
 
96 CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 lution of character to act his part without 
 flinching. 
 
 His clothes, of good texture, were made half 
 after the country fashion, half after the town ; 
 he wore his hat hangingly, with the fur brushed 
 the wrong way, to convince, at a look, that it 
 was superior to the common felt vulgarly worn ; 
 and his many-coloured silk handkerchief, his 
 coat of good broad-cloth, composed of as much 
 material as would make two of your modern 
 cut, and his kerseymere small clothes and leg- 
 gings, really gave him the look of wealth and 
 superiority. 
 
 His speech was made up of rude assertion 
 and frightful oaths ; and when among those who 
 should bow to his predominance, and tolerate 
 his insolence, full of obscene jests and fat hu- 
 mour, little becoming his grey hairs. Before 
 the last change of profession, Peery had been as 
 bare as Job in his worst day ; now, however, his 
 coffers were strong, and he could command a 
 round thousand. 
 
 A round thousand, earned, principally, by 
 squeezing from the very, very poorest their last 
 acid shilling : they were his best profit ; his fat 
 of the land, his milk and honey. Such as could 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 97 
 
 at once afford to pay his exorbitant demands, 
 did so, no matter how unwillingly, and got rid of 
 him; but the wretched being, who, from the 
 rising of the sun till many hours after his set- 
 ting, was bent beneath the first malediction of 
 heaven, yet gained thereby but a scanty supply 
 of the meanest food, rags for his covering, and 
 despair for an inmate (among many others) of 
 the hovel, that did not keep off the inclemency 
 of the weather — this was the prey Peery con- 
 trived to gripe ; and the gripe never relaxed till 
 he had crushed his victim. 
 
 He called for his tithe. Perhaps the time 
 was not auspicious to dispose of the little crop, 
 or perhaps it was not matured ; any cause, no 
 matter what, Dermid could not pay him ; and 
 Peery, as an indulgence, suggested a note of 
 hand. If Dermid could write his name, the 
 bill was executed in form ; if not, after many 
 bungling attempts to feel or hold the pen in 
 his horny fingers, he set his mark to it. Time 
 wore on ; the bill became due ; but the amount 
 was still not in the way, and Peery vouchsafed 
 some of his rude jests to the daughter or wife, 
 which, though they made them blush, were taken 
 as a mark of goodwill by Dermid, who, forcing 
 himself to laugh, handed a douceur, and the 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
98 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 note of hand was renewed. Meantime the 
 crop had been unprofitable, or the landlord had 
 seized it for his rent ; and from the unexpected 
 smallness of the receipts, or the law costs at- 
 tending the seizure, to say nothing of various 
 other casualties, there is no provision to meet 
 the assiduous Peery, who again makes his ap- 
 pearance. Dermid sells some of his potatoes ; 
 and, by stinting himself and his family of even 
 this miserable and only food, he gives another 
 douceur. When payment is a third time de- 
 manded, he is worse off than ever; Peery sees' 
 the state of affairs ; he begins to scowl ; and 
 
 thunders out, by J and by the Holy G 
 
 that-he-must-be-paid ; and abruptly departs to 
 put his threat into execution. 
 
 The demand may not exceed — how much will 
 the affluent or easy reader think ? — one pound. 
 Peery issues what is called a citation to the ec- 
 clesiastical courts ; this increases the sum more 
 than double ; there is a decree, and this, again, 
 is followed by a civil process. The law gene- 
 rally allows one shilling and one penny (Irish) 
 for the trouble of filHng the .blanks in the pro- 
 cess ; and Peery, as generally, takes the trouble 
 on himself, that is, fills them himself, and 
 pockets, to use his own language, the thirteen. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 99 
 
 The same sum is also allowed for the service 
 upou the party ; Peery employs a needy mider- 
 strapper to serve, at twenty pence per day, and 
 two " throws" of whiskey, one hundred ; and 
 here again "fobs" the difference. Thus Der- 
 mid incurs still more debts, and Peery makes 
 still more money. The understrapper promising 
 the whole weight of his vast friendship on the 
 occasion, than which nothing is farther from 
 his power or will, contrives to pick up a sljilling, 
 too, at the very moment he serves the process. 
 
 The sessions come on. Dermid vainly prays 
 for indulgence. By some desperate shift he 
 contrives to scrape together the sum first de- 
 manded ; but learns, in affright and consterna- 
 tion, that it is now trebled. He cries out that 
 he is ruined ; wrings his wretched hands ; per- 
 haps the broken-spirited and contemptible man 
 weeps ; and perhaps is, at that very moment, re- 
 minded by Peery, " that sure his well lookin' 
 wife or daughter might asily get him the money." 
 Full to the chin with rage he cannot vent, 
 Dermid returns home. His case comes on 
 before the " county barrister ;" and, as the mild 
 and sapient lawgivers of the session-court term 
 it, he is decreed ; his only horse or cow is car- 
 ried off; Peery brings the animal to pubUc 
 
 f2 
 
100 CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 street-auction, and, at one fourth of the value, 
 knocks it down to — himself; and then sells it at 
 a good profit ; charges his reverend employer 
 with the expenses for the recovery of Dermid's 
 tithe ; against this charge sets the auction-price 
 of the horse ; and it sometimes happens that 
 the clergyman is a loser by the transaction. 
 
 Need it be observed that, through the whole 
 course of this affair, Peery, and Peery alone, 
 had the advantage. He got the two douceurs 
 from Dermid ; he filled the process ; he got it 
 served at a profit of eight hundred per cent ; he 
 gained two pounds, at least, on the cow or 
 horse ; and, at last, bamboozled and robbed his 
 reverend employer, and sat down in the even- 
 ing, over a bumper of whiskey punch, to drink 
 (his poor mother calling him a Roman Catholic) 
 long life to Jthe minister's tithes, and may they 
 never fail him ! 
 
 This is no fancy-sketch. The man and the 
 statements are carefully copied from the life and 
 the facts ; and if it be doubted that, exactly at 
 the time of this nai'ration, such a man as Peery 
 did not figure, we can only engage to produce, 
 at a fair warning, as many living fac- similes as 
 may be specified ; observing, that an original 
 for our picture, at the present hour, ought to en- 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 101 
 
 title US to lay claim to an original for it half a 
 century earlier ; for society may have improved, 
 the arts and sciences may have advanced, the 
 Bastille may have been torn down in one coun- 
 try and the Inquisition abolished in other ; 
 but the Irish tithe-procter of this day, and the 
 Irish tithe-proctor of fifty years ago, are indivi- 
 duals of one and the same species. 
 
 And what has become of Dermid ? Why, he 
 attended the sessions-court to hear himself de- 
 creed; he attended the sale of his "baste," to 
 see it knocked down for a song; he turned to- 
 wards his home, hastily concluding, that, for the 
 poor man and the papist, there was no law or 
 mercy in the land ; he continued his long walk, 
 chewing the ever-rising cud of this bitter, and 
 desperate, and obstinate thought ; he brought to 
 mind, at the same time, all the Ufe's labour and 
 sweat he had uselessly expended ; he crossed 
 the threshold of his puddled hovel, and beard 
 his children squalling for food ; and then he turn- 
 ed his back upon them ; walked hastily abroad ; 
 gave a kick to the idle spade he met on his 
 way ; sought out some dozen Dermids or Pad- 
 dies similarly situated with himself; between 
 them they agreed to take the tithe-proctors and 
 the law of tithes into their own hands ; proposed 
 
102 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 silly oaths to each other ; and the result was, 
 "the boys" of whom Jack Doran made men- 
 tion, called, apart from the abbreviation. White- 
 boys. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Rhia Doran strictly adhered to the voluntary 
 promise he had given old Ned Shea, and sought 
 Crohoore in every place that could be supposed 
 to afford him secrecy and shelter. 
 
 As before stated, it was the general opinion 
 that Crohoore had not removed from the neigh- 
 bourhood, being frequently seen, even at a late 
 period, always alone, and walking at a quick 
 pace, with his short gun in his hand, and from 
 those who thus casually encountered him, or 
 who averred so, not seeming to shun any obser- 
 vation. But his absolute pursuers vainly looked 
 to meet him ; their path he never crossed ; and 
 while Rhia Doran put all his wits to work, and 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 103 
 
 in every way availed himself of the assistanc& of 
 bis subjects, over the extensive range of country 
 under his obedience — thus, it might be said, 
 having on the alert every eye for six miles 
 round — all proved to no purpose; Crohoore- 
 na-bilhoge, or Crohoore of the bill-hook, the 
 surname given to him since the murder, was still 
 at large. 
 
 But, notwithstanding the allegiance due to 
 King Doran, a principle had gone abroad that 
 powerfully operated in Crohoore's favour, and 
 served to counteract the general zeal that might 
 otherwise, by determined combination, have 
 speedily delivered him into the hands of his 
 pursuers : and this was nothing else than a now 
 firm opinion, established in the minds of the po- 
 pulation of the whole country, of the broad 
 hints given at the wake and fully credited, (as 
 we have already seen) that Crohoore lived in 
 constant intercourse with " the good people," 
 and was under their sovereign protection. None 
 but those who have had local opportunities to 
 observe, at the period we deal with, the mental 
 habits of the peasantry of Ireland, and their 
 devoted belief in the fairy superstition, will at 
 once accede to the probability of such a state- 
 ment : to those, however, we appeal, and leave 
 
104 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 it for them to determine whether or not we 
 outstep, in the present instance^ the modesty of 
 nature. 
 
 It happened about this time that, having re- 
 ceived private and anonymous intelligence, (the 
 informant, divided between his fears and his 
 conscience, thus subtly trying to cheat the devil 
 in the dark) that Crohoore might be come on in 
 a particular direction, Doran led a select party 
 to the ground, and remained anxiously on the 
 watch. It was night. For some hours they 
 guarded, together, one point ; and then the 
 leader left a sentinel there, and withdrew his 
 main body to search in another and nearer 
 quarter. The man thus posted alone, having 
 been wearied with much previous fatigue, un- 
 consciously dropt asleep. How long he slept is 
 unknown, when he was flattered with a smart 
 slap on the shoulders, and desired to stir him- 
 self. " Yes, yes, avich, I'm comin'," said the 
 man, scrambling up ; " an' ye have the bloody dog 
 at last, have ye ?" 
 
 He was now on his legs, and, facing round, 
 saw, instead of the comrade he had expected, 
 " the bloody dog" himself, standing within a 
 few yards of him, his short gun held to his hip, 
 as if prepared for instant action. The valiant 
 
CROHOORE OF THE HILL-HOOK. 105 
 
 as well as watchful sentinel started back ; Cro- 
 hoore advanced a step on him, and spoke in a 
 cautious tone. 
 
 " Stand where you are, man ; I have no mind 
 to harm you. Thady, where's the little sense I 
 thought you had ? loosin' your night's-rest to no 
 purpose ? Mind your own callins, Thady Mul- 
 downy, an' never mind me ; I give the advice, 
 let you follow it, or, as sartain as we both stand 
 here, you'll live to sorely rue it. Jack Doran 
 an' the other boys are down at Tom Murphy's 
 barn, lookin' afther me, an' that's all they'll have 
 for it, as yourself sees ; go to 'em ; say I sent 
 you ; say you were spakin' a bit to me, and tell 
 'em the same words I tould you. Go your 
 ways, Thady, an' remember the friendly warnin' 
 I give, an' keep to your warm bed, by nights, 
 for the futur :" he waved his arm in the direction 
 he wished Thady to travel, then turned on his 
 heel the opposite way, and to Thady's mortal joy 
 was quickly out of view, who, by the way, attri- 
 buted to Crohoore's clemency, only, the remains 
 of the breath, by aid of which he continued 
 to mutter all the while his bugbear was visible, 
 " Lord save us ; Lord protect an' save us ; 
 praise be to God!" 
 
 Running with all his might, Thady gained the 
 
 f3 
 
106 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 barn mentioned by Crohoore, and there, indeed, 
 found his companions where he had been told to 
 look for them. He did not fail to relate the ad- 
 venture, with some little additions, calculated 
 effectually to disguise the fact of his own drow- 
 siness and subsequent inanity ; and from this 
 night forward few were found willing to engage 
 personally in the pursuit after Crohoore. The 
 hint given to Thady Malone appeared to have 
 reason in it ; mortal might, when put in compe- 
 tition with a person who was concealed and 
 fondled by the mischief-doing " good people," 
 seemed not only useless, but extremely dan- 
 gerous in the main : and so, except Rhia Doran 
 himself and one or two others, who were either 
 superior to the general superstition, or wished in 
 the teeth of their qualms to establish a character 
 for unparalleled courage, all refrained from an 
 experiment which was likely, if persevered in, 
 to entail bewitched cows, blighted faces, wi- 
 thered limbs, and even the whole and entire 
 abduction of themselves or their children, which- 
 ever happened to be the most comely, with 
 nothing but a besom, or the handle of a pitch- 
 fork left in their place, and changed, by the 
 hands of the good people, into a general like- 
 ness of the corpse of the person thus ravished. 
 
CROIIOORH OF THE BILL-HOOK. 107 
 
 while the victim himself, or herself, passed a 
 life of deception, jollity, and splendour in the 
 fairy hall contrived within some neighbouring 
 " rath." 
 
 Doran, however, continued fixed and faithful 
 to his purpose ; he was invariably on Crohoore's 
 track whenever he could indirectly hear a whis- 
 per of his probable motions ; and to those who 
 wondered at his fool-hardiness, and still more at 
 his exemption from hurt or harm, he jocosely 
 said he had got a charm from a fairy-doctor that 
 preserved him in a whole skin ; and this plea, 
 although it might have been meant in jest, was 
 argument sound and good with those who boasted 
 no such talisman against the fantastic devilries of 
 the spiteful little race, whom they thought mis- 
 chievous, while they pronounced them " good," 
 and who thus, like all dangerous despots, came 
 in for that 
 
 " Mouth -honour, breath, 
 
 Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not.'' 
 Perhaps Doran gained, by his assiduity, one 
 or two points of some value to him, apart from 
 the self-gratification and reward of doing a ge- 
 nerous and humane action. In the first place, 
 his readiness to forget old grievances, incurred 
 from Pierce Shea, and Alley and her father, 
 
108 CROHOORK OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 bought him " golden opinions from all sorts of 
 people ;" his coming forward so actively to 
 guard their interests, in adversity, and to venture 
 his limbs and life in their defence, who, having 
 once been his friends, changed into his bitterest 
 foes ; this made a popular impression, the fer- 
 vency of which no words could express, and, 
 even by the soberest of his neighbours. Jack 
 Doran's bad qualities were now forgotten. Ano- 
 ther advantage resulted that, in all probability, 
 he prized still more. "The boys" of the dis- 
 trict applauded his intrepidity to the skies, and 
 whispers arose, not lost on Doran's quick ear, 
 that the whole barony did not contain another 
 man so fit to lead them on nocturnal expeditions 
 of a different kind ; to concentrate their strength, 
 and direct their half-conceived views ; in fact, 
 to be their captain. 
 
 Things were in this state when Pierce Shea, 
 after his illness of two months, was at length 
 able to resume, in his own person, the pursuit 
 after Alley and the murderer of her parents. 
 Doran's manly conduct had reached his ear 
 from a hundred admiring tongues ; his father 
 brought them together ; Pierce could not avoid 
 feeling gratitude and full forgiveness towards 
 his old rival ; and, when Doran once more 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 109 
 
 renewed his offer to join him in all future ope- 
 rations, a bond of amity was immediately formed 
 between them ; his hands were over and over 
 shaken ; old Ned shouted forth his joy and ap- 
 probation ; the cup was more than once pledged 
 to success ; and the young men called each 
 other the greatest friends in the world. 
 
 But seemingly assisted, and cautiously fol- 
 lowed, by Andy Houlohan only, — who at length 
 remained the sole creature that from duty or love 
 (other motives were out of the question) would 
 ventureto track Crohoore through his own green 
 raths, in some one of which they firmly believed 
 him a resident — the united efforts of Shea and 
 Doran proved useless as ever. Almost night 
 after night, and sometimes day and night, they 
 were on foot, or on horseback, over the country ; 
 confused rumours of Crohoore's appearances 
 incessantly, though indirectly, reaching them : 
 and some of these reports seemed sufficiently 
 bewildering and startling. It was aveiTed, 
 though none dared come forward to authenticate 
 the statements, that the shmgawn had fre- 
 quently been seen, at one moment, down by 
 a certain stream, in a certain hollow, and, as a 
 comparison of notes demonstrated, at the next 
 moment, and by a different person, many miles 
 
110 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 away, sitting on as certain a stone, on the top of 
 as certain a bill, his lank red hair fluttering in 
 the wind, and his red eye turned wistfully off, as 
 if watching the progress of some of his many 
 aocomraodating messengers, through the extreme 
 distance. 
 
 Andy Houlohan need not have given to his 
 foster-brother a more unbounded proof of de- 
 voted affection than by at present treading in 
 his footsteps. On proper ground, Andy could 
 have braved and despised, as readily as any man, 
 substantial danger from bludgeon, alpeen, or 
 pistol; but let it not be supposed that an iota of 
 courage now came to aid his love. Of all hu- 
 man l^eings, arrived at years of maturity (we 
 will not say discretion), Andy Houlohan yielded 
 to supernatural creatures of every denomina- 
 tion, whether ihigha, hanshee, fetch, sheeog, or 
 phooka, the fullest credence and dominion, and 
 professed the strongest aversion to a rencontre 
 with any of them, of what class soever. But 
 as the latter race were by far the most nume- 
 rous, the most intermeddling, and the most mis- 
 chievous, his dread of them bore proportion to 
 his idea of their nature and numerical import- 
 ance, and, when once out in a lonesome place, 
 never left him. There was one notion, however. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. Ill 
 
 which, distinct from his genuine affection for 
 Pierce, and though it still had no feature of cou- 
 rage, helped Andy to persevere in his perilous 
 wanderings. It got, somehow, into his head, 
 that he might be, " under God," the happy 
 means of preserving Lis foster-brother from 
 harm. Less likely things bad come to pass. 
 Pierce was hot "from a child up," and, coming in 
 contact (vvhich he must) with the good people, 
 would, if left to himself, be ruined entirely ; and 
 Andy calculated that the only chance of safety 
 to his doltJi depended on the prudent avoiding, 
 or conciliating, and, as he resolved it should be, 
 obsequious conduct he prescribed for his own 
 adoption in any such appalling predicament. 
 
 So, on he followed, picking his steps as cau- 
 tiously as if the ground were strewed with new- 
 laid eggs, — or, to use his own expression, "as 
 a hen walking over a stubble-field ;" on, through 
 thick and thin, night and morning, after Shea 
 and Doran ; still no Crohoore was found: the 
 prepossessions of the country-people continuing 
 to obstruct all regular inquiry ; and, finally grown 
 inveterate, now refusing to supply even their 
 former reports of accidental meetings with him. 
 
 But if theij conceived that Crohoore ought 
 not to be meddled with, in consequence of his 
 
112 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 close connexion, identity indeed, with the good 
 people, the magistrates of the county seemed 
 of a different opinion. Daring robberies had 
 lately become very frequent ; the houses of the 
 rich were broken open at night, and plundered 
 of every thing valuable ; the very poorest were 
 despoiled of their little pittance ; and all this 
 was perpetrated by some unknown and undis- 
 covered gang, every trace of whom had hitherto 
 evaded the civil powers. Now, however, from 
 the stories the magistrates had heard of Cro- 
 hoore, it struck them that a person shewing 
 such resolution, closeness, and cleverness of 
 character, was very likely, whatever he might 
 lack in personal prowess, to be the leader of 
 exactly such a band of secret and adroit despe- 
 radoes : and this strong surmise was confirmed 
 by accounts of his having been often met in the 
 direction where the outrages happened. A re- 
 ward, immediately subsequent to the murder of 
 the Doolings, had been offered for his appre- 
 hension ; but the new suspicions mentioned, 
 made him an object of increased interest, and 
 the j)osse comitatus were accordingly straining 
 every nerve on the look out. 
 
 Crohoore-na-bilhoge baffled, however, his 
 new pursuers, as well as his old. Sometimes 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 113 
 
 our friends, Shea, Doran, aud Andy, fell in with 
 the other party, and all united, following' up 
 some hint proposed on either side, in common 
 chase and common cause. But all efforts went 
 for nothing ; the game left them still at fault, and 
 — it was rather extraordinary — without seeming 
 to be a whit more in dread of apprehension ; 
 for to the country people, if they were belief- 
 worthy, who dared not molest him, and who 
 chanced to stray out at night, his appearance 
 was as frequent as ever ; they, mean time, keep- 
 ing all that snug among themselves. 
 
 It were but a dull repetition here to give in 
 detail the trifling circumstances attendant upon 
 the daily and nightly search of Pierce Shea, 
 Andy, and their new friends ; as, up to a cer- 
 tain evening, their toilsome occupation differed 
 only in the different route chosen. But, upon 
 the evening alluded to, an occurrence took place 
 worth recording. 
 
 The month of March had began, when a 
 man from a remote district, sufficiently out of 
 reach of the supernatural tyrants of Clarah, 
 their jurisdiction, or any thing to be feared from 
 it, came to Shea's house, where Doran now 
 constantly lived, with information that, but a 
 few hours before, he, the informant, saw Cro- 
 
114 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 hobre pass along the hills in the direction of 
 Castlecomer, a village some miles distant. Shea, 
 Dorari, and Andy, instantly set forward, press- 
 ing their spy to join them; but he decHned the 
 adventure ; even he thinking that he had run 
 just enough hazard by pointing out the way ; 
 and Andy agreed with him, and thought it rea- 
 sonable. 
 
 Our friends engaged in this expedition more 
 ardently, and with more hopes of success than 
 for a long time they had felt ; and their depres- 
 sion was proportionably strong as, after another 
 night of useless toil, they wended homeward, 
 in the cold gray morning, through the little glen 
 of Ballyfoile. 
 
 This place, four miles north-east of Kilkenny 
 city, is a romantic dell, formed by hills of con- 
 siderable height, and of abrupt and almost per- 
 pendicular descent, having rather an appear- 
 ance of art, from the similarity of their form, 
 and, at some points, approaching each other's 
 bases so closely as not to leave more than eight 
 or ten paces between, while at no part are they 
 more than forty yards asunder. They are 
 clothed to the summit with thick and nearly 
 impenetrable furze-bush, tangled underwood, 
 and dwarf thorn, and, adown their sides, in- 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 115 
 
 dented with deep channels, formed by rushing 
 water from above, when, after heavy rain, it 
 fails, with cataract speed, to swell the little 
 brook that, at other times, just trickles through 
 the narrow green slip of valley below. There 
 is nothing of sublimity or grandeur about the 
 spot ; yet, to a spectator placed midway up the 
 glen, there is much to create interest. Pent up 
 so closely, no continuous scenery at either hand, 
 nothing but the firmament visible overhead, and, 
 from much abrupt curving, shut out from all view 
 at either end, he would (if a simple and contem- 
 plative character, easily to be acted on by the 
 ever-changing and wondrous aspect of nature) 
 feel that there hung around the place a strange 
 and unusual air of loneliness, making it the fit 
 abode of the prowling fox and timid rabbit, its 
 only inhabitants. 
 
 About ninety years ago, this glen was a dark 
 and intricate wood of spreading oak, affording 
 a favourable and favourite rendezvous to a des- 
 perate band of freebooters that ruled over the 
 neighbourhood, and who were formidable enough, 
 as tradition goes, to defeat and pursue into Kil- 
 kenny a company of " troopers," sent against 
 them from that city. Since then it has often 
 given the same refuge to persons carrying on 
 
116 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 the same profession, though on a more con- 
 tracted scale ; and, but a few years ago, the last 
 adventurous fellows who levied tribute upon 
 travellers' purses, in the district, lay concealed 
 here for more than a week, while the whole civil 
 force was in pursuit of them, and were at length 
 only apprehended when they sought an asylum 
 elsewhere. 
 
 Shea, Doran, and Andy, pursuing their way 
 homeward through this little solitude, which, at 
 the time of our narration, bore nearly the same 
 aspect it does at present, had gained that part 
 where the hills approached each other nearest : 
 Pierce Shea was a few paces before Doran, and 
 Andy still farther in advance, when Pierce 
 thought he heard' something like the snap of a 
 lock behind him. He turned quickly round and 
 saw a man, a little at Doran's back, but out of 
 their line of march, in the act of raising a gun 
 to his shoulder, visibly with intent to fire on 
 one of the party ; but before Pierce could use 
 any precaution, or the fellow pull his trigger, a 
 shot from the opposite hill, grazing Doran's 
 breast, lodged in the arm of the assassin, andihe 
 deadly weapon fell from his hand. Shea sprung 
 upon him and held him fast ; Andy, who had 
 heard the shot, but was further ignorant of the 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 117 
 
 transaction, made all speed to his foster-brother, 
 and Doran, looking as if confounded at the sud- 
 denness of the' thing, or else at his own narrow 
 escape, for the ball had cut through the breast 
 of his coat, was the last to turn to the spot. 
 
 "Scoundrel!" said Pierce, "tell me your 
 reason for wishing to take away my life ; did I 
 ever wrong or injure you? for I cannot recollect 
 having seen you before." 
 
 " Arrah, man, you never done any thing to 
 me," answered the surly-looking fellow. 
 
 " Why, then, did you level at my life ? I am 
 now sure I was your mark." 
 
 " Sure enough," said the man. 
 
 " For what cause, I ask you again ?" 
 
 " Tunther-an-ouns ! how duv I know for what i 
 ax that question iv them that sent me to du id ; 
 an' don't shake my arm afther that manner ; it's 
 smashed enough widout your help." 
 
 " And who are they that sent you?" 
 
 " Avoch, now !" was the answer. 
 
 " Well, God himself had a hand in id, mas- 
 ter Pierce," here interrupted Andy, who con- 
 ceived, after some effort, that he had pretty 
 correctly guessed the occurrence; "he was 
 goin' for to shoot you. Pierce, agra, an' see — 
 it's himself he kilt." 
 
118 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 Doran drew nearer. • 
 
 " I'd swear upon the mass-book, Pierce," said 
 he, " that Crohoore-na-bilhoge is at the bottom 
 of this cursed affair." 
 
 " Don't, then, a-bouchal, fur maybe you'd 
 swear in a lie," observed the wounded man ; " I 
 got my best arm broke by id, howsomever the 
 duoul that happened to cum about." 
 
 " You'll suffer for this insolence as well as for 
 the rest of the job, you villain," rejoined Doran* 
 " Villain ! arrah, is that the word wid you ? 
 Dhar-Dieu, bud it will be a sore sayin' to you, 
 or my name isn't Shawn." 
 
 " Who was the person that set you on?" — 
 once more asked Shea, shaking him violently. 
 
 " Why, there's- that honest boy there, says 
 he's ready to swear to him for you." 
 
 "Pierce, you'll find I'm right," said Doran ; 
 " the first shot from this fellow " 
 
 " You'll never prove that agin me," the as- 
 sassin interrupted; " I fired no shot — bad loock 
 to the flent for stoppin me !" 
 
 " I heard your piece snap, then," said Shea. 
 
 " Nothin' else you heard, agra." 
 
 "The first shot," Doran continued, "was 
 meant for you Pearce ; the second for me ; and 
 again, I say, I'd lay my life that Crohoore knew 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 119 
 
 of the one, and with his own hands fired the 
 other." 
 
 " Answer, is he right?" roared Shea, " or I'll 
 redden the sod you stand on with your blood ! 
 was it Crohoore sent you ? was it Crohoore fired 
 
 that shot? tell me truly, or " Pierce 
 
 cocked his pistol. 
 
 " Och, avich, you're asy answered," said the 
 man, changing colour for the first time ; " he 
 that sent me, stands • — " 
 
 " Stop !" Doran shouted out in a voice of ex- 
 traordinary triumph. " He stands on the brow 
 of the hill, this moment ! Look, Pierce, look !" 
 
 Shea looked up, and on the brow of the hill 
 saw Crohoore indeed standing, and calmly con- 
 templating the scene below. Instantly he fired 
 and missed him, and Crohoore was in another 
 instant out of sight. 
 
 *' Here, Doran," he then said, " take this man 
 to my father's house, and secure him well ; 
 Andy, come your ways with me," and bedashed 
 against the abrupt steep, with too much preci- 
 pitancy to make the mastering it an easy matter, 
 and his progress up, through furzes, underwood, 
 and tangled roots, was of course much slower 
 than if he had exerted his strength less, and his 
 judgment more. 
 
120 CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 But he gained the summit, panting and out 
 of breath; looked around the now wide country, 
 and saw no one. He ran a few steps forward 
 and stood gazing down into another valley, 
 which was a more open continuation of that he 
 had just quitted, but which, turning quickly 
 round the base of the hill, here met him. The 
 descent he had now to make was much less pre- 
 cipitous than that which he had just clambered 
 up ; in fact, only a gentle slope ; and opposite 
 was another swell of the same kind, above which 
 stood the old square castle of Ballyfoile, whence 
 the ground imperceptibly fell, in a high state of 
 cultivation, towards Kilkenny. 
 
 There was a field of green corn in the valley, 
 adjoining a pasture where some cows grazed, 
 and where a half-naked boy had his station to 
 prevent trespass, by the cows, or aught else, 
 among the corn, as, with his hands squeezed 
 tight imder his arms to keep them warm, he 
 jigged to his own whistle, if not with grace or 
 skill, at least with violence enough to prevent 
 the blood from growing stagnant in the dense 
 cold of the early March morning. To him Shea 
 made all speed ; and, 
 
 " Did you see any one come down the hill 
 yonder ?" he asked. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 121 
 
 " E — ah !" accompanied by a dull stare, was 
 the only answer. Pierce repeated his question. 
 
 " Did myself see any body comin' down from 
 the hill, is id V 
 
 " Yes, a-vich-ma-cree," replied Andy, now 
 behind ; " that's the very thing we want to 
 know." 
 
 " Then mostha, bud if that's all, often's the 
 time I did," with a leer, and resuming his jig. 
 
 " Bud, tell us a-vourneen, if you seen any 
 one at all at the present time." 
 
 " Hia-h ! pooh-a! gho-moch-a-sinn .'"* piped 
 the imp, as if he had not heard the last question, 
 and shaking a stick he held in his hand at a 
 matronly crow, who had just turned round her 
 head, with a wistful look at the nice green corn. 
 
 " Will you give a civil answer?" asked Shea, 
 losing all patience with the loss of time. 
 
 " Asy, Pierce, agra, an' lave the duoul's bird 
 to me," said Andy, in a whisper : then with his 
 most conciliating tone to the boy — 
 
 " Tell us, won't you, a-bouchal, did you ob- 
 sarve no one in the world comin' down the hill 
 side this morning?" 
 
 " Arrah, then, will yourself tell 7ne, i' you 
 
 * Get out of that. 
 VOL. I. G 
 
122 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 plaise, do yoii obsarve any thing like as if I war 
 blind, about me ?'" 
 
 " That's as mooch as to say you did?" 
 
 *' I seen a very ugly spalpeen as you'd meet 
 in a summer's day, comin' down. " 
 
 " Thank you, a-vich ; it's the very fellow 
 we're lookin' for." 
 
 " Hauld him fast, then ; for, barrin' my eye- 
 sight's bad, it was your own self I seen," and 
 the urchin glanced up, and gave a low giggle. 
 
 *' Musha, but you're a droll gorgoon," said 
 Andy. 
 
 Pierce stamped in vexation, and, breaking 
 away, began to ascend the opposite height. 
 Andy remained, and, after bearing with much of 
 the youngster's raillery, and giving way to a 
 little badinage on his own part, — for Andy, in 
 the absence of Paudge Dermody, thought he 
 could pass a joke well enough, — at last learned 
 that the boy had really seen Crohoore descend- 
 ing the hill but a few moments before, and pass- 
 ing in the very direction Pierce now pursued. 
 The lad's attention had been particularly di- 
 rected to him by his size, the unusual circum- 
 stance of his bearing a gun, and his visible 
 anxiety to escape observation. 
 
 Now, Andy Houlohan, for the reasons before 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK, 123 
 
 mentioned, had every objection that Shea should 
 happen to fall in with Crohoore, and sagely 
 resolved to keep what he heard to himself. 
 Besides, hoping but little from this weary pur- 
 suit, and tired as well as afraid of it, he had 
 lately determined on a plan of acting of his own, 
 by which he resolved that they should not at all 
 come ill contact with each other. But we will 
 not anticipate. 
 
 While Andy and the lad were at converse 
 together. Pierce had ascended the hill. Some 
 men and women were at work in a field at a 
 little distance below him, and to them he I'a- 
 pidly walked for information. After the usual 
 salutation, " Marah-uth,^'^ he inquired if they 
 had seen the object of his search : but, " The 
 Lord keep him out of our path !" and then de- 
 termined silence from the whole party, was all 
 the satisfaction he could obtain, when a young 
 girl out of breath, and pale with haste and 
 fright, ran furiously through a gap into the field, 
 and, setting herself on a large stone near where 
 Shea stood, seemed ready to faint away. 
 
 " Musha, what miau is come over you, Cauth, 
 a-lanna'ma-chree ?" said her mother, abandoning 
 her work, running on, squatting herself down, 
 * Good morning, &c. 
 
 g2 
 
124 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 and looking, with maternal anxiety, into the 
 girl's face. 
 
 " Och, mother, mother, I'll never be a day 
 the betther iv id !" — • 
 
 " Ochown ! — iv what, a-lanna?" — the great, 
 strong woman put her great strong arms around 
 her ; the girl cried a little on her mother's bo- 
 som, then, somewhat relieved, drew a heavy 
 sigh, and went on. 
 
 *' Och ! [ was cumin' along the bosheen, an' 
 just thinkin' iv the terrible story yourself tould 
 us about him last night, when at the short turn, 
 hard-by Mulroony's barn, where the eldher 
 bushes makes the place so dark, I sthruck my- 
 self plump up against Crohoore-na-bill " 
 
 " Whisht !" cried the mother, raising her hand, 
 and glancing with evident alarm at Shea ; the 
 girl, misapprehending her meaning, hid her 
 eyes, and screamed in terror ; but she was set 
 right in a whisper, and then ended her story in 
 so low a tone that Pierce could not catch 
 another word. He had heard enough, however, 
 to guide him a step further in the chase ; Mul- 
 roony's barn, and the spot in the narrow lane, 
 mentioned by the girl, he knew well, and thither 
 hastened in improved speed and a renewed 
 hope. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 125 
 
 He gained the place, looked sharply about, 
 and no creature was visible. In an opposite 
 route from that the girl must have come, Pierce 
 continued to make way, and, following the 
 course of the lane, found himself on the high 
 road. Here he paused a moment, puzzled as 
 to which side he should turn next, for still he 
 saw or met no living thing. He ascended a 
 contiguous eminence, and far, far off, through 
 the foggy atmosphere, discerned the figure of a 
 man winding close by a fence ; it must be be ; 
 he marked the spot, and with the elasticity of a 
 stag measured the intermediate space across 
 the field. Still and still was Pierce at fault. 
 From another rising ground he again strained 
 his eyes, and again caught a glimpse of, as he 
 conceived, the same figure. Onward he' 
 bounded, and gained his second landmark. 
 Just as he came up, a head was popped over a 
 high hedge at his right hand. Pierce's heart 
 leaped ; he drew his pistol ; was instantly at 
 the other side of the hedge, and there seized a 
 man who was not Crohoore. Discovering his 
 mistake. Pierce let him go, and earnestly asked 
 pardon. 
 . '' Dieu-a-uth"* said the astonished stranger. 
 * God save you. 
 
126 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 '' Dieu-as-mayu-utli,'' ^ answered Pierce: 
 scarce able to articulate, overcome by exertion, 
 and the nervousness that generally succeeds the 
 sudden excitation of hope or fear when as sud- 
 denly disappointed. 
 
 " Savin' manners," continued the man, " will 
 you let a body be askin' you the name that's on 
 you ? — May be you'd be master Pierce Shea ?" 
 
 "The very man," said Pierce. 
 
 "Why, then, you're only the very man I 
 tuck you for, an' the very one I was wishin to 
 see, into the bargain." 
 
 " Here you see me, then ; and what, after ?" 
 
 " I hard iv your story, an' could make a sort 
 iv a guess to what you're about, I'm thinkin' ; 
 may be you're ' not huntin' Crohoore-na-bil- 
 hoge ?"~ 
 
 " Your guess is as true as the daylight." 
 
 " Musha, then, as good loock 'ud have id, I 
 have a sort of a notion that may be I'd be the 
 very boy could tell you where to find him." 
 
 " Where, where ?" exclaimed Pierce. 
 
 " An' I'll be bould to say, you'd be for of- 
 ferin' somethin' that 'ud be handsome, fur the 
 news." 
 
 " I'd give the wide world !" 
 
 * God and mother save you. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 127 
 
 " That's a good dale, if it was yours to give." 
 
 " Or all I have in the world !" 
 
 " An' that's apurty penny, too, by all accounts 
 that I could hear. But, somehow, myself, ever 
 an' always, had a likin' an' love for aragxiih- 
 chise;* an' if there was sich a thing as a gui- 
 neah orrh,-\ or a thing that a-way, an' if we war 
 to see the face iv id, who knows." 
 
 Pierce ran his hand into his pocket, and drew 
 out a brace of guineas ; bank notes were then a 
 scarcity. 
 
 " Here, then," he said, " and now your in- 
 formation, quick ; oh, quick, quick, and heaven 
 bless you !" 
 
 " They're the right sort, to a sartainty, " ob- 
 served the man, stooping down, juggling the 
 guineas separately on a flat stone near him, and 
 then folding them up in a dirty piece of paper, 
 thrusting them into the very bottom of his 
 breeches-pocket, and, with gTeat sobriety of face, 
 buttoning them up. Atlasthe thought of going on. 
 
 " Why, then, I'll tell you every word about 
 id. You must know, master Pierce, myself is 
 none o' your common counthry spalpeens (not 
 for to say so by way of disparishment o' the 
 country, where I was bred an' born); but I 
 * Money down. t Golden guinea. 
 
128 CKOHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 knows more nor a dozen o' them cratures, that 
 does nothin' only dig an' plough from year's end 
 to year's end ; I have a sort of a call to the law, 
 d'ye see me, an' I goes to the neighbours wid a 
 bit o' paper, or may be a bit o' calf-skhin, just 
 as the thing happens to be ;" winking cun- 
 ningly. 
 
 We may venture to mention here, begging 
 pardon for the digression, that in all probability 
 it was a happy circumstance for the process- 
 server, that Andy Houlohan heard not this in- 
 telHgence, as from his cradle he mortally hated 
 all " bums,"* and might have felt little repug- 
 nance in knocking a chip from his skull, just out 
 of general antipathy to the race. 
 
 " What have I to do with this V asked 
 Pierce. 
 
 " Why, I'm onlylettin' you into id fur to lam 
 you that I'm not the gourloch to be frightened 
 wid your sheeog stories, or the likes, an' fur 
 that raison, to the ould duoul myself bobs 'em. 
 Well, ^-roon. I overhard them sayin' id, that 
 had a good right to know all about id, as how 
 there was a lob o' money fur the man that 'ud 
 lay hould o' this Crohoore ; an' so I went here, 
 an' axin' there, and may be I didn't make out the 
 * BaUiffs. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 129 
 
 i^s an' downs o' the thing; hopin' I'd cum 
 across him in some o' my thravels; an' sure 
 enough I have him cotched his ioocky an' blessed 
 morning." 
 
 "But where is he, man ?" impatiently inter- 
 rupted Pierce ; " what do you keep me here 
 for?" 
 
 *• Och, a-bouchal, there's two words to a bar- 
 gain : if you war the omadhaun to give your 
 money before hand, that's no raison in life my- 
 self 'ud be over soon wid my speech." 
 
 "Rascal! do you mean to trifle with me?" 
 rejoined Pierce, clutching his pistol. 
 
 " Be pacable, now, a-vich," said the limb of 
 the law, drawing a brace of them from his bo- 
 som ; " you see, if you're for that work, Pm not 
 the fool to venture out where rib-breakin', done 
 wid a sledge, is often our best treatment ; an' 
 so, here's two good shots for your one ; but 
 where's the use o' that when we can settle the 
 matther in a more lawful manner. Just hsten 
 to me. I was goin' to sthrike a bit of a bargain 
 wid you : you must as good as take your buke 
 oath — an' its puttiai unheerd of thrust in you, 
 when I hav'nt the buke to hand — but I hear 
 you come of as honest a stock as myself — well, 
 you must swear that every skhillin o' the reward, 
 
 g3 
 
130 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 fur the cribbin o' this bouchal, 'ill come into niy 
 pocket, an' no other body as mooch as sneeze 
 at it." 
 
 '• I swear by my father's soul, you must get 
 every farthing of it." 
 
 " See now; sure that's more asy nor to waste 
 our powther for nothin'; an' tell me, duv you 
 see no sort of a place you'd be for hiding your- 
 self in, supposin' a body was purshuin you?" 
 
 " Do you mean the cave ?" 
 
 Just across the field was the terrific-looking 
 entrance to the cave of Dunmore. 
 
 "That's the very spot, a-vich ; keep your 
 tongue to yourself; keep your toe in your 
 brogue ; tell no livin' sowl what we're about ; 
 I'm just goin' a start o' the road, to shuv this to 
 a neighbour," shewing a latitat, " an' I'll be wid 
 you again while you can shake yourself; stop 
 in the mouth o' the cave, an' watch 'till I come ; 
 an' I'm the divil's rougue or we'll ketch a hould 
 o' the bouchal, plaise God." 
 
CROttOORE OF THE BILL-FIOOK. 131 
 
 CHAPTER VIII, 
 
 The cave of Dunmore is regarded as the great 
 natural wonder of this district ; so much so, that 
 travellers come out of their road to see and ex- 
 plore it. At the time of our narration, it was 
 believed by the surrounding peasantry to be the 
 residence of every description of supernatural 
 beings ; nay, to this day, there are shrewd 
 notions on the point; but, at a remoter one, 
 the conviction reigned in its glory. Here, on 
 great occasions, did the good people hold their 
 revels ; and it was also the chosen abode of the 
 Leprechauns, or fairy mechanics, who from all 
 quarters of the island assembled in it (the ca- 
 vern being suspected to ramify, under ground, 
 to every point of the kingdom) for the purpose 
 of manufacturing foot-gear for the little race tc 
 which they were appended. This could not be 
 doubted, as many had heard the din of their ham- 
 mers, and caught odd glimpses of their green 
 sherkeens, or of their caps with red feathers 
 in them, what time the stars grew white before 
 
132 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 the sun. It was the dwelling, too, of more 
 horrid sprites, of whose nature there existed uo 
 clear notion, but who, in the very distant abodes 
 of the cavern, roamed along the ofF-brink of a 
 little subterranean rivulet, the boundary of their 
 dark abode, and who took vast delight in ex- 
 terminating any unfortunate being fool-hardy 
 enough to cross the forbidden stream, and so 
 encroach on their charmed domain ; and this 
 was also fully shewn by the splintered human 
 bones that (really, however) strewed the bed 
 of the rill. Wild shrieks were often heard to 
 pierce the darkness through the gaping mouth 
 of the cavern ; but oftener the merry fairy-laugh, 
 and the small fairy-music, tingled to the night- 
 breeze. 
 
 Ths absolute physiognomy of the place was 
 calculated to excite superstitious notions. In the 
 midst of a level field, a precipitate inchned plane 
 led down to a sudden pit, across which, like a vast 
 blind arch, the entrance yawned, about eighty 
 feet perpendicular, and from thirty to forty wide ; 
 overhung and festooned with ivy, lichen, bram- 
 ble, and a variety of wild shrubs, and tenanted 
 by the owl, the daw, and the carrion crow, that 
 made rustling and screaming exit into the day- 
 light as soon as disturbed by an exploring foot ; 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 133 
 
 and when, all at once, you stood on the verge 
 of the descent, and looked from the cheery day 
 into the pitch darkness of this gaping orifice, 
 repeUing and chilling the curiosity that it ex- 
 cited, — giving a promise of something to be dis- 
 covered, and a threat to the discoverer, — sug- 
 gesting a region to be traversed so different 
 from our ovrn fair famiUar vs^orld, and yet a name- 
 less danger to be incurred in the progess, — your 
 heart must have been either very callous or 
 very bold, and imagination entirely a blank, if, 
 at this first glance, you felt no unusual stir within 
 you. 
 
 After entering the mouth of the cavern, the 
 light of your torches shewed you that vast masses 
 of rock protruded overhead, ready at every 
 step to crush, and held in their place as if by 
 miracle alone. A short distance on, two sepa- 
 rate passages branched to the right and to the 
 left. To explore the one, a barrier of steep 
 rocks, made dangerous by the damp slime that 
 covered them, should be scaled ; then you pro- 
 ceeded along a way of considerable length, 
 sometimes obliged, from the lowness of the 
 heading, to stoop on hands and knees, still over 
 slippery rocks, and over deep holes, formed by 
 the constant dripping of the roof; till at last you 
 
134 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 suddenly entered a spacious and lofty apart- 
 ment, known by the name of the market-cross, 
 from its containing a petrified mass that has 
 some likeness to the ancient and curious struc- 
 ture so called. Indeed, throughout the whole 
 chamber, the awful frolic of nature bears com- 
 parison with art: — rangesof fluted columns, that 
 seem the production of the chisel, only much 
 dilapidated by time, rise almost at correct dis- 
 tances to the arching roof; by the way, having 
 necessarily been formed by petinfaction, drop 
 upon drop, it is astounding to think of the in- 
 calculable number of years consumed in the 
 process. And this is the regal fairy hall ; and 
 the peasants say, that when the myriad crystal- 
 lizations that hang about are, on a gala evening, 
 illuminated, and when the for-ever falling drops 
 sparkle in the fairy light, the scene becomes too 
 dazzling for mortal vision. 
 
 The other passage winds an equal distance, 
 and leads to the subterranean rill that bubbles, as 
 before mentioned, over scraps of human bones ; 
 and over some entire ones too ; we having, when 
 led to the cavern for scenic illustration of the 
 facts of this history, adventurously plunged our 
 hand into the clear water, and taken therefrom 
 a tibia of unusual length ; and, indeed, the fact 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 135 
 
 that such human relics are there to be seen, al- 
 most a quarter of a mile from the light of the 
 earth, must, if we reject the peasant's fine su- 
 perstition, shew us the misery of some former 
 time of civil conflict, that could compel any 
 wretched fugitive to seek, in the recesses and 
 horrors of such a place, just as much pause as 
 might serve him to starve, die, and rot. 
 
 On the edge of the descent, exactly opposite 
 the blank gape of the cavern. Pierce Shea 
 seated himself, awaiting the return of his acci- 
 dental acquaintance. It was only natural that 
 he should entertain some misgivings as to the 
 truth of the story just heard from that person, 
 taking into account the kind of character his 
 informant, even according to his own shewing, 
 must necessarily be, and viewing as much of 
 his manner and behaviour as had come under 
 Pierce's immediate notice. But a more dis- 
 tressing prepossession seized on his mind, and 
 now banished every other fancy. His poor 
 mistress, his beloved and lost Alley, might have 
 been hurried by her ravisher, when pressed by 
 sudden pursuit and alarm, to this very place. 
 Amid its dank and loathsome darkness she 
 might, this moment, drag on a blighted and 
 hated existence, or prepaie to yield up life alto- 
 
136 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 gether : nay, perhaps she was, long ago, a corse, 
 festering and unburied in its foul recesses. The 
 recollection of the horrors he had experienced 
 on the morning after the murder came upon 
 him, followed by forebodings of worse horrors 
 yet to come ; and he sat stupified with the pres- 
 sure of these feelings, when Andy's voice at his 
 back startled him from his reverie. 
 
 Looking up, he saw the kind and considerate 
 creature standing over him, " doubly armed." 
 It was almost perforce that Andy had, on this 
 expedition, been compelled to carry a gun. He 
 was as much averse to such intricate weapons 
 as honest David, in the Rivals. To his sur- 
 mise the plain alpeen ranked higher; because, 
 first, from the simplicity of its construction it 
 required no round-about work, such as priming 
 and loading, and coeking and snapping, and 
 putting it to the shoulder, and shutting one eye, 
 before you could let it off; and, secondly, be- 
 cause he knew the practice of the one infinitely 
 better than the practice of the other. He now 
 appeared, however, with his gun in his left 
 hand, and, not very appropriately, a wooden 
 "noggin" of milk in his right, which, he said, 
 " he could, wid a clear conscience, take his 
 buke oath was hot from the cow, in regard he 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 137 
 
 had milked the hugdeen,* himself." The fact is, 
 at the house of a fourth cousin of his ** father's 
 mother's sister," where he had seen " the blue 
 smoke makin' its way out o' the dour, a sure 
 sign the phatoes were rowlin' out on the table," 
 that is, breakfast in preparation, Andy had gone 
 in, and (upon footing of a relationship the good 
 people were till then rather unprepared to ad- 
 mit) first ventured a hint about a " little bit an' 
 sup' for himself;" and when he had made a 
 hearty meal of potatoes, and of tolerably stale 
 buttermilk, nothing better being in the way, he 
 next craved and got a noggin-full for Pierce, 
 together with half a cake of " griddle bread ;" 
 but, as he was crossing over the fields with this, 
 he espied, "as God would have id," a cow 
 awaiting the milkmaid ; and, slily overturning 
 the buttermilk into "a gripe ;" Andy approached, 
 and drew from the animal as much " good, 
 sweet milk as he had spilt; an' he was handy 
 enough at the work, in regard that often of a 
 night he used to give a help to Breedge Chree, 
 when the poor crature 'ud be hard pushed." 
 Sitting down by Pierce, Andy gave this tale, 
 with a manner so unintentionally, and yet so 
 truly droll, that his foster-brother, afflicted as 
 * Little honey. 
 
138 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 he was, could scarce refuse a smile ; especially 
 when, with a self-flattering broad grin, he ended 
 by saying, " I'd lay my ould brogues to a laf- 
 fina,* the colleen 'ill sware the good people were 
 afore-hand wid her, this mornin'." 
 
 Andy then drew from the breast of his outside 
 coat, that now for the first time in its life had 
 been buttoned, the half-moon of oatmeal bread ; 
 and, " Now, masther Pierce, agra," he con- 
 tinued, " eat your 'nough as long as the vitt'ls 
 'ill last ; bud, sure, this isn't the handsomest 
 kind o' place we're sittin' in ;" staring down at 
 the cave ; " come, let us make out some other 
 spot that won't look so dushmal." 
 
 Pierce's feelings all rushed back upon him. 
 He sprung up, and said, 
 
 "There is at present no other place for us, 
 Andy ; Crohoore-na-bilhoge is in that cave, 
 and I'll drag him from it, or perish in the at- 
 tempt." 
 
 The noggin dropped from Andy's hand, and 
 down flowed the milk that had cost him some 
 time, trouble, and conscience. He plunged at 
 the noggin, but, in the attempt, lent it an unin- 
 tentional kick, that sent it down to the descent 
 with increased velocity, till it gave many a hol- 
 * Halfpenny. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 139 
 
 low thump, thump, among the rocks in the 
 mouth of the cavern. His distended eyes fol- 
 lowed it for some time ; then he reddened and 
 frowned, and, selecting the vessel as the imme- 
 diate matter on which to vent a vexation de- 
 rived from another cause, slowly and bitterly 
 said, 
 
 " Musha, then, the ould douol speed you on 
 your road down there, below," 
 . Pierce, sensible of the kindness of his foster- 
 brother, and pitying his loss, exhorted him not 
 to mind the accident, as there was no help 
 for it. 
 
 " None in the world," Andy replied, mourn- 
 fully resuming his seat ; " no help for spilt 
 milk,* all the world over. But tell me, Pierce, 
 a-chora ; sure you're only fur jokin' me; sure 
 you wouldn't be the mad crature to go into that 
 cursed hole, afther Crohoore V 
 
 " Have I come here for nothing, Andy, when 
 I kpow he is now in it ?" 
 
 *' An' you're sure he is?" 
 
 Pierce gave his authority, and all the ciixum- 
 stances of his meeting with the law officer. 
 
 " Well a-vich ; bud sure you'd have no chance 
 iv him, there, of all places on the face o' the 
 . * A proverb. 
 
140 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 earth ; where the good people, Christ save us, 
 are as thick as the crows about him?" — 
 
 " Except it was hell itself, nothing else should 
 stop me, Andy ; and nothing shall." 
 
 "Mostha, bud there's little in the differ." 
 
 Pierce's new ally, Paddy Loughnan, here 
 interrupted the conference. Glancing envi- 
 ously at Andy, he drew Shea aside and whis- 
 pered — 
 
 " Arrah, tell a body who is this wid you ?" — 
 
 " My own foster-brother, and you may de- 
 pend your life on him." 
 
 " Bud, duoul take him, it might happen he'd 
 be for cryin' halves wid myself?" 
 
 " In my mind, the poor fellow scarce knows 
 the meaning of the matter ; and I'm quite sure 
 he wouldn't be paid as an informer, with all the 
 king's gold." 
 
 "Then he's just the sort of a soft omadhaun 
 we want ; he'll do betther nor than any other ; an' 
 sich a sthrong big fellow may be of sarvice. I'd 
 fitther be on the road, at once ; we can't go in, 
 barrin' we have the lights ; and they're no nearer 
 nor 'Comer ; is there any araguth hawn* where 
 the gould came frum ?" 
 
 Pierce handed him a shilling. 
 
 * White money, or silver. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 141 
 
 " Sweet was your fist. I've a sort of an ould 
 horse to bring me back, an' I'll never stay leg 
 'till I'm here again. Dieu-a-uth !" and the law 
 Mercury vanished. 
 
 From his observations of this man, and a 
 guess at his calling, Andy comforted himself 
 and tormented Shea with the expressed belief 
 that his story of having seen Crohoore enter 
 the cave was a falsehood, framed to get money, 
 and that they should never again lay their eyes 
 on him or it. " An' I'm sorry I have id to say 
 of your father-an-mother's son, bud you're ever 
 an' always over-foolish wid your money," conti- 
 nued Andy, who, on proper occasions, deemed it 
 his bounden duty, being by a few years Pierce's 
 senior, to assume the Mentor with his foster- 
 brother : though, if he examined his conscience, 
 thriftiness was none of his own failings. 
 
 Shea only drew a heavy sigh in answer to this 
 observation ; and, as the day wore on, Andy be- 
 came more certain, and Pierce more tortured at 
 his certainty, that Paddy Loughnan was " a 
 bite," and that Crohoore was no more in the cave 
 than he, Andy — " Lord keep him from any sich 
 thing !" — was in it. But, as it was near noon 
 when Paddy had set off for Castlecomer, and as 
 the distance was five miles, three hours, at 
 
142 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 least, even including the service of the " sort of 
 an ould horse," must necessarily pass before his 
 return ; that time had scarce yet elapsed, and 
 Pierce, though almost hopeless from anxiety, 
 did not therefore despair; and in fact, to his 
 great joy, and Andy's undisguised consternation, 
 Paddy made his re-appearance about three 
 o'clock, mounted on, as (it was now obvious) he 
 had truly termed it, his " sort of an ould horse," 
 bearing candles, and providently supplied with 
 touch-paper and matches, in case of unforeseen 
 accidents within. 
 
 As the preparations were made for entering the 
 cavern, Andy looked on with a stupid stare, 
 except that, now and then, his eye scowled over 
 Paddy Loughnan, from top to toe, as if he 
 hated the marrow in his bones. When all was 
 ready. Pierce turned and addressed him ; 
 
 " Andy, you must take up your post here ; 
 if the murderer escape us, you cannot possibly 
 miss him ; so, shake hands, Andy," he con- 
 tinued, seeing the tears start into the poor fel- 
 lows's eye, " and see that your flint and priming 
 are in good order." 
 
 " Mostha, Pierce, a-cuishla-ma-chree," re- 
 plied Andy, making strange faces to conceal his 
 emotion, and dwelling on the squeeze of the 
 
CROHQORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 143 
 
 hand that had been afforded him — *' Pierce 
 abouchal" (growing familiar) — " just be said an' 
 led by me : once go in there, an' you'll come 
 out a dead man ; or, what's worse, divil a sight 
 o' your face we'll ever see, dead or alive." 
 " I'll make the trial, Andy." 
 " Considher wid yourself what sort they are ; 
 "divil a crooked sthraw they care about your 
 gun." 
 
 "You talk to no purpose, Andy." 
 "An' then, the poochas, that are in plenty, 
 too." 
 
 " Nonsense, man ; I'd face the devil in his 
 den. Let me go." 
 
 " What 'ill myself say to poor ould Ned Shea 
 when I must go home widout you?" 
 " Come, — free my hand, Andy." 
 " You won't get so much as Christhen ber- 
 rin !" — struggling to keep the hand— " your 
 bones 'ill be at the bottom o' the poochas' 
 river !" — 
 
 " Let me go, I say again !" — 
 
 " Mostha ! — bud sence you won't do as a 
 
 body, that's fur your good, 'ud have you, hell 
 
 to the brogue's length you'll go!" — cried Andy, 
 
 his fears and affection blowing up into a fury, 
 
144 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 as, more desperately than ever, he clutched 
 Pierce's hand. 
 
 " Let the gorgoon come on his lawful busi- 
 ness, you great omadhaun, you," said Paddy 
 Loughnan, at some distance. 
 
 " Let you hould your tongue, or I'll break 
 every bone in your unloocky carcass," retorted 
 Andy, " lawful ! — oh, if I was near you !" 
 
 " Do you mean to restrain me by force, 
 Andy V asked Pierce, smiling. 
 
 " Ma-hurp-on duoul ! bud it's myself that 
 will !" and, casting the gun from his left hand, 
 he suddenly clasped his foster-brother in his 
 arms. 
 
 " Tut, tut — you are not the man to do it," 
 said Pierce, giving a smart jerk, that at once 
 freed him, and sent Andy reeling among the 
 rocks at a few yards distant: and, before he 
 could recover himself. Shea had disappeared 
 into the cavern, preceded by Paddy Loughnan. 
 
 The faithful follower plunged after them. 
 A little way from the entrance he caught a 
 glimpse of candle-light, and, after many prostra- 
 tions among imseen rocks, came so near as to 
 see it above him, over the barrier already de- 
 scribed. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 145 
 
 " Pierce, a-vourneen, wait, a doochy-bit; only 
 let a body have id to say he was kilt along side 
 o' you," Andy cried out. 
 
 " Go along out o' that wid yourself, you 
 sprissaun," gro\?led the voice of Paddy Lough- 
 nan, " you're big enough to look at, but you 
 haven't the heart iv a slucheen !"* 
 
 " Hav'n't I ?"— replied Andy, " hav'n't I ?— 
 och ! — only lend me one hould o' you, an' I'll 
 tache you the differ !" and, giving a shout and 
 jump of utter defiance, he cast down, according 
 to irresistible custom, his old hat. But, Paddy, 
 progressing as he spoke, had left him to vent 
 his ire, in chill and darkness ; while the hat, 
 weary, perhaps, of the long ill-usage it had 
 undergone in his service, kept so close and snug 
 that all Andy's groping and scramblings to re- 
 cover it were ineffectual ; and, at last, content 
 merely to grope outward to the day-light, he 
 left it, with a hearty curse, to the poochas. 
 
 *' Well, God be wid you, Pierce Shea," he 
 said in soliloquy, again sitting down close by the 
 entrance to the cave, " fur there's little hopes 
 you'll ever see Clarah agin ; an' where's the 
 body that ever set eyes on you bud 'ud be 
 sorry, not to talk o' myself? ma-hoon-chise ! 
 * A little mouse. 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
146 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 if there was his likes the wcg"ld over an' over; 
 an' farther, if I'd say id ; it was a thousand 
 an' a thousand" pities he hadn't more o' the 
 gumtion, an' that he was given to go by his 
 own will, afore a good adviser like myself; — by 
 the gun in my hand, I'll run fur Connaught, 
 or some sich for'n part, sooner nor face home 
 widout my poor Pierce Shea :" and Andy wept 
 plentifully. 
 
 " Arrah, what's the matther wid you, honest 
 boy ?" asked a commiserating old woman, who 
 had descended in search of a stray cow, and 
 was surprised to see a tall, robust fellow, sit- 
 ting there, bare-headed, and blubbering at some 
 rate. " Enough an' worse, nor enough," re- 
 plied Andy, and he told her his whole sad 
 story. 
 
 " Why, then," said the comforter, " it 'ill be 
 God's hand, an' God's hand alone, that 'ill ever 
 bring him out alive again," and, professing sor- 
 row that she could not stop, she hobbled off 
 after her cow. But, meeting this body, and 
 that body, the story was repeated and repeated ; 
 and one peeped down, and then another, and 
 another; and, gaining courage as their numbers 
 increased, they at last came down, and Andy 
 saw himself surrounded by a crowd of old men 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 147 
 
 aud old women, youngs girls and boys, all vio- 
 lent in their condolence. In return for his 
 again-told tale, they gratified him with many a 
 frightful anecdote of the cave, and the inha- 
 bitants of the cave ; and then they turned to 
 Crohoore, surpassing every former horror by ac- 
 counts of his well-known intimacy with the good 
 people, and of his very latest appearances under 
 the most appalling cii'cumstances, and in the 
 most bewitched places. 
 
 The night began to fall on them while thus 
 engaged, and the night's impressive silence to 
 spread around ; and the rocks at each side grew 
 browner, and the horrid yawn of the cave 
 blacker and blacker. Their voices sunk into 
 murmurs, and they drew close to Andy, no one 
 wiUing to venture home alone, and yet no move- 
 ment made to proceed together. They dared 
 not, in illustration of their stories, any longer 
 point or look at the cavern ; indeed, there 
 seemed a general effort to change the subject. 
 But, while they ceased to speak of it, the cave 
 suddenly spoke to them, emitting through its 
 vast mouth an awful echo of sounds, that, from 
 the subdued and imperfect way in which they 
 reached the group, it was impossible to ascribe 
 to a particular cause — to human lips and lungs, 
 
 H 2 
 
148 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 or to any thing else. All shrunk closer toge- 
 ther, and, 
 
 " Oh vaugha ! vaugha!" cried Andy, clapping 
 his hands — " there's an end iv him !" — 
 
 '* An'-murther, murther ! see that!" exclaim- 
 ed two or three of his companions, in a breath. 
 
 A dim, lurid light appeared some little dis- 
 tance in the cavern, flashing upward, and half 
 showing a well known face, and lending kindred 
 lustre to the two red eyes that fixed watchfully 
 upon them. A general scream arose, and the 
 light was instantly extinguished: but, ere ano- 
 ther second had elapsed, there was a stir in the 
 gloom, immediately at the entrance, and Cro- 
 hoore-na-bilhoge, the incarnate goblin of their 
 terrors, rushed out among them. 
 
 Andy Houlohan had the gun in his bund, and 
 in mixed horror and desperation, immediately, 
 and without bringing the piece to his shoulder, 
 pulled the trigger : it recoiled with violence, 
 and he measured his length among the rocks. 
 Crohoore checked not his speed a second, but 
 passing through the very midst of the crowd, 
 and scattering them in every direction, gave 
 Andy one expressive look, and, bounding up 
 the ascent, was quickly lost to view, as, added to 
 the increasing night, the depth in which they 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 149 
 
 stood obstructed their vision. After some mi- 
 nutes of silence, and then a general thanks- 
 giving for their safety, the people departed in a 
 body, leaving Andy to brave by himself all 
 succeeding horrors. 
 
 He was yet in the act of ascertaining to what 
 extent he had been disabled by his fall, or by the 
 fairy-blow rather, when Paddy Loughnan, bare- 
 headed, pale, and agitated, stood before him. 
 The knowing, impudent aspect he so lately had 
 worn was now gone, and his look cowering and 
 terror-stricken, 
 
 " Who fired the shot ?" he hastily asked. 
 
 *^ Myself; an' sorry I am to say id," answered 
 Andy, feeling his bones. 
 
 " At Crohoore, was id ?" continued Lough- 
 nan, in a close whisper. 
 
 " Aye, a-roon." 
 
 " Did you hit him?" 
 
 " Och, to be sure I did ; but what hurt was 
 that to the likes of him .''" 
 
 " Where's Pierce Shea?" 
 
 " Where's Pierce She ! musha, you unloocky 
 bird, duv you come out o' your hole to ax me 
 that question ? It was all your doins ! Let 
 yourself tell me where's the poor gor§oon, 
 
150 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK, 
 
 " Here man, here, take the light from my 
 hand- — look fur him in the left windin' o' the 
 cave — hurry, hurry !" and Loughnan was quickly 
 on the back of his " sort of an ould horse ;" 
 but though the wretched animal could not plead 
 the slightest incumbrance of flesh as an excuse 
 for his tardiness ; though Paddy was armed, or 
 rather heeled with one rusty spur ; and even 
 though they faced homewards, a circumstance, 
 as all travellers know, of power to inspire horse- 
 flesh with its best mettle ; still did not " the 
 sort of an ould horse" evince much sympathy 
 with his master's visible wish to be far away 
 from the cave in as short a time as possible. 
 
 Many a pause Andy made, as he crawled or 
 groped through the dangerous intricacies of the 
 cavern, to look about him for his foster-brother, 
 and shout his name to the dense mass of rock ; 
 but the echoes running through the twinings 
 and hollows, which he translated into a thousand 
 terrible voices and meanings, were his only 
 answer. He dared proceed to the side of the 
 " poochas river," and, to confirm his own early 
 and worst prophecies, there lay Shea, without 
 sense or motion. 
 
 After -a wild burst of sorrow, sincere as ever 
 was sent up over a departed friend, Andy raised 
 
CROHOORB OF THE BILL-HOOK. 161 
 
 his beloved Pierce, and placed his head on his 
 shoulder, with intent, after a moment's rest, to 
 convey him to the surface of the earth, as a first 
 step towards the only solace he could now 
 know, that is, " dacent christhenberrin," for the 
 remains of his dolth. In this situation, however, 
 Pierce drew a heavy sigh, and, after a little 
 time, opened his eye&, and stared wildly around 
 him. Recognizing Andy, his first word was a 
 request that they should immediately quit the 
 cave : one to which, it may be inferred, Andy 
 made little opposition. The cool night air much 
 revived him, and he asked how long it had been 
 since he entered the cave, and if any thing had 
 happened outside. A thrill of seeming alarm 
 shook him when he heard of Loughnan's hasty 
 and affrighted departure ; but he grew half 
 frantic at Crohoore's escape, and bitterly ac- 
 cused Andy of negligence and want of courage. 
 It was in vain Andy urged the inutility of any 
 attempt to seize Crohoore, and cited the harm- 
 less effect of the shot he had fired with so 
 deadly an aim : Pierce insisted on his lack of 
 spirit ; and averred that, had he been present, he 
 would have secured the murderer, though sur- 
 rounded by a legion of devils. 
 
 Andy's time came for asking questions ; but 
 
152 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 Pierce seemed very unwilling to give any account 
 of his own adventure ; and, while his foster- 
 brother still continued to urge him, Jack Doran 
 and old Ned Shea appeared.; they had for some 
 time been seeking him out, with a led horse for 
 his accommodation homewards, of which, in a 
 very exhausted and harassed state, he availed 
 himself, and all returned to Clarah. 
 
 Doran, in compliance with Pierce's requests 
 of the morning, had led to his father's house the 
 assassin of Ballyfoile, who, he added, now fully 
 confessed that Crohoore was his employer ; 
 but the man either pretended to be, or really was, 
 totally ignorant of any of Crohoore's affairs ; 
 that person having merely sought him out, and 
 with a weighty fee hired him for a specific pur- 
 pose. 
 
 It was hoped, however, that, when brought to 
 justice for his offence, he would give more ample 
 and satisfactory information. Pierce visited him 
 on his arrival at home ; the fellow was dogged 
 and saucy, and laughed with brutal levity at 
 every threat. He was confined in a place 
 lately constructed for a cellar ; it had no window, 
 and the door and bolts were strong; Pierce, 
 disgusted with the ruffian, locked and bolted the 
 door, and put the key in his pocket. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BII.L-HOOK. 153 
 
 The next morning he re-opened the door, for 
 the purpose of conveying his prisoner to Kil- 
 kenny goal, but the apartment was empty ; and 
 the name, " Crohoore-na-bilhoge," scrawled in 
 bad characters on the wall, and as if written with 
 blood, seemed plainly to indicate by whose 
 agency the prisoner had escaped. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The last recited adventure made a deep im- 
 pression on Pierce Shea; he grew gloomy and 
 thoughtful, and confidentially acknowledged to 
 his foster-brother that he was in a degree be- 
 come a convert to his often urged opinions, and 
 that they spent their time and energies in pur- 
 suit of one who, to all appearance, was protected 
 by unearthly friends and agency. Andy heard 
 this confession in profound silence, but with a 
 catching of breath, and an expression of face, 
 that indicated a terrified triumph in the late 
 
 H 3 
 
154 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-IIOOK. 
 
 belief it imported, and as if he was mortally 
 frightened at a result he had himself so indus- 
 triously laboured to produce ; then he left 
 Pierce's presence, his lips compressed, and his 
 eyes bent studiously on the ground, and disap- 
 peared, Pierce could not surmise whither. 
 
 " By my conscience. Pierce," said Rhia 
 Doran, when Shea spoke to him also on the 
 matter, " the girl is either bewitched out of her 
 natural senses and feelings, or something worse 
 has happened." 
 
 " Something worse? what do you mean ?" 
 " Aye, worse, a thousand times, Pierce." 
 •' That is no answer, Doran ; speak plainer." 
 " High hanging to me !" — resumed his friend, 
 as if angry with himself, — " see what I have 
 done, now; I forgot who I was speaking to: 
 never mind me, Pierce, ma-bouchal, and just 
 put it all out of your head." 
 " Jack, you must go on." 
 " Not T, by ray soul, Pierce ; I don't want to 
 make your mind worse than it is." 
 
 "Why, Doran, 'tis neither fair nor friendly, 
 though I think you a fair and friendly fellow, to 
 keep any thing concerning Alley from me ; 
 therefore, I insist on your explanation ; you 
 shall not leave this till you satisfy me ;" they sat, 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 155 
 
 as usual, in the house of Pierce's father, and at a 
 late hour of the night, over their glass. 
 
 " Well, a-vich, sure I can just stay where I 
 am, then," replied Doran, coolly sipping his 
 liquor ; " for I had rather sit here a twelve- 
 month than finish what, like a cursed fool, I so 
 heedlessly began ; because, though there may be 
 no truth in it, it would only increase your trou- 
 bles, Pierce, my boy, and I like you too well to 
 be the bearer of unwelcome tidings." 
 
 " Harkye, Rhia Doran, I know you for a 
 true friend — your actions are before me, and 
 shew it, but my situation and feelings cannot 
 bear crossing or trifling with ; and, though we 
 were to break squares for ever, you shall fully 
 quell or fix the doubt your words have made ; 
 here — this moment — on this spot — go on, Do- 
 ran;" he grew pale, and trembled in passion. 
 
 "Well, then, sooner than it should come to 
 that. Pierce, and that I should find such a re- 
 ward for — no matter ; I'll satisfy you ; but don't 
 think you have threatened me into compliance, 
 Pierce Shea ; I suppose you know me well 
 enough to believe that neither yourself nor any 
 man alive can bully yne." 
 
 " I know and believe it ; that's enough for 
 
156 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 you, Doran ; go on now, and, for the love of 
 heaven, do not keep me in this torture." 
 
 " Well, remember you forced me to speak 
 out, in spite of ray wish and incHnation." 
 
 " I will, I will remember ; I acquit you before- 
 hand of all share in the pain or injury your 
 words may inflict ; only be plain and above- 
 board, and do a friend's duty by me." 
 
 " Why, then, since you must have it, my poor 
 fellow, 'tis thought that, if Alley's not charmed 
 and blindfolded by something not right, she 
 lives with her father's murderer, of her own 
 free consent.'' 
 
 " Aye," said Pierce, during the pause which 
 Doran here made, as if to note the effect of his 
 news on the hearer; "aye, I guessed what 
 would come out ;" he spoke in a stifled voice, his 
 hands clenched on the table, and his eyes fixed 
 on his friend. 
 
 " For," continued Doran, " unless the villain 
 has her in some strong hold, or prison, and that's 
 no way likely, seeing that their retreat is in the 
 neighbourhood, and that none of us have ever 
 heard of such a place, surely she could long ago 
 have made her escape, during one or other of 
 the occasions when Crohoore was absent, and 
 you know yourself he has often been absent, and 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 157 
 
 night after night no watch on her ; surely the 
 girl might have easily ran home to you, if, as I 
 said before, she isn't either " 
 
 " Where did you hear all this ?" interrupted 
 Shea, still successful in a strong effort to keep 
 down his feelings. 
 
 *' From friends of your own, Pierce : friends 
 to the marrow of their bones, who are not 
 afraid or ashamed to repeat their words to your 
 face, and do more, may be, if along with their re- 
 gard for you they saw reason why : you know 
 the boys I mean," 
 
 " I do," said Shea, his eyes now turned away 
 and fixed in stupified abstraction on the floor, 
 
 " I have lately got them into good order and 
 spirit," pursued Doran, " and never fear them 
 for helping a friend, along with doing their own 
 little business, if — " he again paused, and laid 
 his hand on Shea's arm — " if that friend could 
 be trusted. Pierce, my lad." 
 
 " May the good God of heaven defend me 
 from the truth of what you say !" — at last ex- 
 claimed poor Shea, giving vent to the bitter- 
 ness of soul that his friend's touch had, perhaps, 
 freed from its hitherto stern self-command, 
 — " that, that would be the heaviest stroke of 
 all! — Doran, I could bear to see her a stiff 
 
158 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 corpse, the cheek pale and cold, and the eye 
 closed, never more to open — I could lean over 
 her grave, and look in as she was lowered into it, 
 and listen to the clod striking on her coffin, — 
 but that I could not bear! — It would drive me 
 mad — it has driven me mad !" — As he spoke, he 
 grasped and desperately wrung Doran's he^nd, 
 the tears choking his utterance and gushing 
 down his face, and he now let fall his head upon 
 his friend's extended arm. 
 
 " A heavy curse light on my tongue !" cried 
 Doran, his voice also broken from emotion ; 
 " but Pierce, dear, sure it was only the people's 
 thought — what they all say — and I, for one, 
 don't believe a word of it." 
 
 " Dhar Dieu ! you dare not believe it !" re- 
 plied Pierce, starting on his feet, bis tears 
 scorched up, and his tone and manner entirely 
 altered — " you dare not, man, believe a word of 
 it, nor any thing like it ; I will suffer no living 
 creature to believe it of Alley ; there never was 
 a holy saint, standing before the throne of God 
 in his glory, whiter from shame and sin than 
 was my poor Alley ! Deny it, you or any man, 
 and I will send your soul to its Maker with the 
 lie upon it !" 
 
 " I see you want somebody to quarrel with," 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 159 
 
 said his companion, in an offended and re- 
 proaciiful tone, " but you shall not fix the 
 quarrel on me ; I feel for yon and pity you too 
 much, Pierce, to mind any thing you say to me 
 in your present fury ; — and is this my reward 
 for all I have gone through, unasked, and of my 
 own accord, for your sake and hers ? — and when 
 you were lying on your back, Pierce, not able 
 to wag a finger in your own cause, and without 
 another friend, or another fool, to stand up for 
 you ?" 
 
 The young man's brow relaxed, and the na- 
 tm'al reflux of his better feelings again brought 
 tears into his eyes, while he sat down, offered 
 his hand, and said, 
 
 " I ask your pardon, my dear Doran ; I 
 should have recollected — if I could have recol- 
 lected any thing — it was a friend that spoke." 
 
 " It was. Pierce," replied Doran, v/armly re- 
 turning his pressure ; " and now put the foolish 
 words out of your head ; by the soul in my 
 body 1 would not myself hear an ill word said of 
 poor Alley ; put the thing out of your mind ; 
 there is nothing in it." 
 
 "That will not be easy for me t.o do, Jack," 
 said Pierce ; and he was right ; it was no easy 
 task to pluck out the thorn that, now festered in 
 
160 CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 his heart's core ; he was never before, great as 
 were the griefs aud horrors he had encountered, 
 so truly miserable. " But," he resumed, "you 
 said something, just now — what was it? — I 
 heard your very imperfectly — of your friends 
 having it in their power to be of use to me ; 
 how, Doran? and what do you mean?" 
 
 " It's now useless talking it over. Pierce ; but 
 all they have told me I'll tell you ; and more you 
 cannot expect. They give me to understand, 
 in the first place, that they have a clue to Cro- 
 hoore's retreat — " 
 
 " Where ? — where ? — how have they been 
 able to discover it ? J thought they had long ago 
 given up all interference in the matter." 
 
 " You see, Pierce, that was when I had little 
 or no command over the boys, and when I was 
 only getting by degrees into their good opinioD, 
 and they were without much union or courage ; 
 but now that I am their lawful captain for the 
 parish of Clarah, and have led them on one or 
 two little expeditions, with every success, their 
 spirit is up, and their services at my beck, under 
 certain terms that you alone can take or leave ; 
 so that they are no fools, and don't care a 
 blackberry for fairy or tithe-proctor, and would 
 just face the ould lad with his horns on. As 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 161 
 
 to where and how they made this discovery, I 
 do not know ; in fact they have not made me 
 the wiser, nor can I insist on a point that has 
 nothing to do with our lawful business ; only 
 this much they say, that if you. Pierce Shea, 
 will step in among them, one of these fine even- 
 ings, and behave like the lad of metal they and 
 I know you to be, it will go hard but in a night 
 or two Alley will stand before you, and Cro- 
 hoore-na-bilhoge have his lodging in the stone 
 jug in Kilkenny." 
 
 " What do they want me to do ? — ^join them? 
 — take an oath V asked Pierce, after a pause. 
 
 " Whisht, man — walls have ears: — -nevermind 
 • particulars, now ; only can't you just hear what 
 the poor gorgoons have to say to you, and then 
 judge for yourself /" 
 
 " Where are they to be found ? " 
 
 " I can find them for you; we may as well 
 look for them together," said Doran, carelessly : 
 •' but follow your own bent. Pierce, a-vich ; I 
 wish to advise you to nothing, one way or the 
 other.'' 
 
 " How soon can we meet? to-morrow night?" 
 
 " To-morrow night, sure enough, they will be 
 near at hand ; about ten, I think.'' 
 
 " Very well," muttered Pierce, dropping his 
 
162 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 head on his breast, and again relapsing into 
 silence ; but his set teeth, his rigid features, 
 and his unsteady eye, shewed the agitated na- 
 ture of his reflections. After an unbroken 
 pause of more than two minutes, he rose quickly, 
 snatched a candle, and repeated — 
 
 *' Very well ; — let us go together ; and you 
 had better be out of the house at the time, 
 Doran, waiting for me at the broad stone in the 
 bosheen, to escape my father's suspicions : good 
 night." 
 
 " 1 will," said Doran, "but cannot wait long: 
 good night ;" they joined hands. 
 
 " You shall not wait a moment ; my mind is 
 made up ; I'll engage in any thing — any risk, 
 any fellowship — I would rush on death — hell — 
 for present satisfaction and ease of mind;— ten, 
 you say ?" 
 
 " Ten, exactly ; good night, Pierce." They 
 exchanged a hearty shake of hands, and retired 
 to their separate chambers. 
 
 At ten o'clock the next night, and by the 
 broad stone in the bosheen, the friends accord- 
 ingly met. Few words were exchanged be- 
 tween them ; and Doran rapidly led the way, 
 often stopping to look about him, over lonesome 
 and broken paths, with which Pierce was not 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 163 
 
 well acquainted, until, after half an hour's forced 
 march, they stood before a miserable hut, that 
 was built in a deserted waste, covered with furze 
 and rock, a hill rising at its back, and no other 
 human habitation within view. 
 
 Light glanced through the chinky door, and 
 through a hole, in the side of the hovel, that, as 
 usual, served at once for window and chimney ; 
 and from within issued a confused clatter of 
 wild mirth, loud talking, the dull music of the 
 bag- pipes, and stentorian singing. 
 
 " There is the place, '^ said Doran to his com- 
 panion, as they paused some distance from the 
 door. At the sound of his voice a tall figure 
 started from behind a thick clump of furze and 
 rock, within a few paces of them, and asked, — 
 " Who's there ? and what sort o' night is in 
 id ?"— 
 
 " It's a fine night," answered Doran, in a 
 whisper, though the clouds were lov/ and swollen, 
 the wind muttering, heavy drops falling, and not 
 a star to be seen. 
 
 '• An' so it is," said the challenger; " go your 
 ways an' God be wid ye," — and he instantly dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 '* Come on, then," Doran resumed, and they 
 walked up to the door of the cabin. 
 
164 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 " Stop a moment," said Pierce, as his friend 
 felt about the door for the knotted string that 
 moved the wooden latch — " I did not quite ex- 
 pect this ; T do not like to enter such a place." 
 
 " Nonsense, — ^thrash — childishness !" retorted 
 Doran in a quick sharp tone — " the heart to 
 change now ! doubts and fears to come now ! — 
 what can you fear in ray company ? are you a 
 man ?" 
 
 He held him by the breast of the coat with 
 one hand, with the other violently pulled up the 
 heavy latch, the door swung wide open, and 
 they walked in briskly. 
 
 There was an immediate cessation of all sounds 
 among the inmates of the cabin, and eight or 
 ten men springing up, and thrusting their hands 
 into their bosoms, shewed, by their scowling 
 brows and ferocious looks, nothing of hospitable 
 welcome to the supposed intruders, until Doran's 
 pass-word, ** It 's fine weather, boys," and their 
 instant recognition of him, caused a universal 
 relaxation of feature, and " cead mille phalthea, 
 Rhia Doran," was shouted in no gentle accents 
 from every tongue. When the enthusiasm of 
 his welcome had somewhat abated, Pierce ob- 
 served glances of constraint, if not of suspicion, 
 at himself; but as soon as Doran, sitting, or 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 165 
 
 rather resting with one thigh on a rude table, 
 round which the men were grouped, and assum- 
 ing an air of careless good-fellowship, as he 
 looked about him, had passed something in a 
 quick whisper, room was made for Shea; and 
 " sha-dhurth, a-bouchal,"* addressed to him, as 
 in rapid succession they quaffed their liquor, 
 proved that his friend, or his own name, had 
 sufficient influence to change into cordiality and 
 interest whatever disagreeable feeUng his en- 
 trance might have caused ; in fact, the men lost 
 all constraint before him, abandoning themselves, 
 in a few moments, to their natural manners, and 
 noisy humour. 
 
 Being seated, he had leisure to examine the 
 kind of place in which he was, and the descrip- 
 tion of persons amongst whom he found him- 
 self. The whole extent of the interior of the 
 hovel was a single apartment, not exceeding fif- 
 teen feet in length and ten in breadth, and 
 scarcely of sufficient height to allow a tall man to 
 stand erect in the middle of the floor ; the mud 
 walls were unplastered ; and the straw that had 
 been mixed with this primitive material, to keep 
 it together, startled and bristled out at every 
 side ; over head the puny wattles of the roof, 
 * " Your health, lad." 
 
166 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 black, and shiniug with smoke and soot, badly 
 connected the inartificial covering of heath ; the 
 floor, full of inequalities of bedded stone and 
 uneradicated furze, differed but little from the 
 open moor without, from which it had only re- 
 cently been deducted; and every thing, in fact, 
 shewed a hasty and careless construction. 
 
 Close by one wall ran a rough deal plank, 
 supported by piles of loose stones, forming the 
 seats upon which, at a narrow table, about a 
 dozen men were crowded ; and^ at its other side, 
 large stones, without any plank or board, sup- 
 plied seats to some half dozen more. There 
 was no chimney ; but two benches, built of slate 
 and clay, enclosed an area, within which a few 
 sods of turf emitted a feeble blaze ; and sitting 
 very near, crippled up into a lump, her knees 
 reaching higher than her head, her bleared eyes 
 steadfastly fixed on the decaying embers, and 
 her whole air and position shewing an uncon- 
 sciousness or carelessness of the dinning noise, 
 was the hostage of this lowly auherge. In 
 the corner to her left appeared an enclosure 
 of rough stones that fenced in the heath on 
 which she lay ; and, in the other, a roughly-con- 
 structed and uncouthly-shaped barrel, from 
 which, by the agency of spigot and fauset, she 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 167 
 
 drew, in wooden noggins, and as her guests 
 claimed it, the stout though now exploded she- 
 been. 
 
 At one side of Pierce Shea, and immediately 
 next him, sat a prim-looking little fellow of mid- 
 dle age, with a large, bloated, goat's-hair wig, 
 that, cocking up behind like a drake's tail, left 
 the roots of his skull visible, with a red silk 
 handkeixhief under his neck, remarkable, when 
 contrasted with the bare and scorched throats 
 and breasts of the others ; and altogether he 
 had a way about him very different from, if not 
 superior to his companions ; a look of self-de- 
 fined and long-established importance and wis- 
 dom ; as well he might, being by day the only 
 schoolmaster of the district, and, by night, the 
 only writer of notices, regulations, and resolu- 
 tions, and orator in general to the reformers of 
 Clarah, as Clootz was to the human race. Op- 
 posite to him, in appearance as well as situation, 
 sat a tall, bony, squalid being, of a meagre sal- 
 low face, hung round with an abundance of 
 coal-black hair, bent brows of the same sable 
 hue, shading deep, wild eyes, his beard four 
 weeks unshaven, and his habilimentjH from 
 head to foot, only the tattered remains of a 
 vesture, that, in its best day, had been but in- 
 
168 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 different. Pierce thought he should recollect 
 to have before seen this man, in the following 
 situation. 
 
 Passing by a cabin, which it was known the 
 tithe-proctor had recently spoliated, a heavy 
 shower of rain overtook him, and he knocked 
 at the door for admission, supposing it to be 
 secured. A husky voice desired him to come 
 in ; he did so, and beheld such a scene of 
 misery as his eyes had never before experi- 
 enced. The large, waste den, with its sides 
 rough as a quarry, and the black roof dripping 
 rain and soot, did not contain a single article of 
 the most common domestic furniture : and on a 
 small bundle of straw, at one side, lay a shi- 
 vering girl of nine or ten years, while two other 
 children, a boy and girl, not more than five and 
 six, squatted on the damp, clay floor, which was 
 strewed with straw and rushes, not in childish 
 sport, but in that prematrue melancholy and 
 abstraction that the children of want and misery 
 so often exhibit to the eye of a susceptible 
 beholder. For some time he saw no other 
 human creature, and, addressing one of the chil- 
 dren, asked suddenly, " have you no father?" 
 
 The same hoarse voice that had spoken before 
 he entered now made answer in a kind of seof- 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 169 
 
 fing laugh from the chimney corner. "To be 
 sure they have 'em, why shouldn't they?" 
 
 Pierce turned towards the place : there was 
 no fire on the hearth ; but upon the hob, and 
 deeply shaded by the projection of the huge 
 chimney, sat a man about forty, without shoes, 
 stockings, coat, or vest ; a small-clothes and 
 soot-stained shirt his only covering. His arms 
 were folded hard, his chin sunk into his breast, 
 his bare legs crossed, and he swang and jogged 
 them to and fro, in action that betokened a sul- 
 len and desperate indifference to the ruin about 
 him. 
 
 *' Ay, there they is, now," he continued, as 
 Pierce stared at him in silence : " one, two, 
 three o' them ; an' I'm their father, an' what am 
 I to do wid 'em?" 
 
 " Where's their mother?" asked Pierce. 
 
 " Avoch, an' what a question you put on me ; 
 I went down the bosheen, yesterday, after the 
 proctor left us, an' I tould 'em she was gaspin' ; 
 yes, I tould 'em my wife was gaspin', an' the 
 good christhens wouldn't believe me ; an' yet 
 she was stiff afore me when I cum back, an' I 
 buried her widout a wake, or a sheet to wind 
 her in ; an' see here — here's what she left me." 
 
 He stooped and took up a bundle of dark 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
170 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 rags, which, from the weak cries that immedi- 
 ately reached Pierce's ear, he discovered to be 
 at once the cradle and swadling-clothes of a 
 new-born infant. The man laid the babe on his 
 lap, and added, 
 
 " An' I'm to sit up all night an' watch this 
 dawny bit iv a crature, and feed it, haviu' no- 
 thin' more nor a few could phatees ; aye, there's 
 three o' them fur you, an' I'm their father, if 
 you want to know id, an' what am I to do wid 
 'em ? sure that's jist the way its wid me, a-vich." 
 
 Pierce was sure that this same man now sat 
 before him. The rest of the company were not 
 particularly distinguished, being young fellows, 
 gay, heedless, and uncharacterized. 
 
 The table was covered with slops of liquor, 
 and the whole behaviour and appearance of the 
 men shewed they had been, for some time be- 
 fore Pierce's entry, trying the potency of the 
 home-brewed ale, some of which Doran also pro- 
 cured for his friend and himself: as, with half a 
 c»ke of oaten bread, it was the only refreshment 
 the old " colluch"* could or would produce. 
 Perhaps, joined to the riotous mirth that now 
 went on, serious business had been in debate 
 before the appearance of Shea ; for he could 
 *Hag. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 171 
 
 perceive that, in the midst of their wildest 
 hilarity, whispers and looks occasionally went 
 round ; at all events he certainly missed the ac- 
 companying hubbub of the bagpipes, previously 
 heard at the door ; and hinting at the first cir- 
 cumstance; and particularly mentioning the last 
 to his companion, 
 
 " Come, Murthock, " cried Doran, slapping 
 on the humpy shoulders a stupid-looking blind 
 creature, who was seated apart from the others, 
 and who, his music silent, seemed to have sunk 
 into sympathizing non-entity, as if he had only 
 existed while his instrument was at work, or as 
 if the breath that gave him life had been blown 
 into his lungs by one of its complex pipes, part 
 -of the stock by which it was itself vivified, and 
 that, the one exhausted, the other must fade 
 away : " Come, Murthock, strike up Andrew 
 Carey, or Sheelin-a gig, or something that's 
 hearty." 
 
 The bent and lethargic figure instantly got a 
 little motion, as the bellows gave the first puff, 
 and he answered, " Hah ! hah ! I wouldn't doubt 
 you, Rhia Doran ; you war always the boy for 
 my money ; faith, an' I'll give you purty nate 
 music as ever left a poor piper's bag:" then, 
 
 i2 
 
172 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 busily stirring his arm, he emitted a very dismal, 
 and, as he played it, a very discordant air. 
 
 " Och, murther, murther, your pipes want a 
 drink, Murthock, they're so sorrowful ; here, 
 man, take this, and try something that won't set 
 us crying." 
 
 " Sha, sha, sha, Rhia Doran; you war never 
 fond o' bein' sad yourself, an' small blame to you, 
 fur your blood is hot an' sthrong ;" he seized 
 the noggin, and stretched his neck to have a 
 good guzzle; "that was the White-boys' La- 
 mentation ;" — another draught ; — " bud stay now 
 'till I give you the White-boys' Delight; here 
 goes." 
 
 " Do so, Murthock ; something that has fun 
 in it, or by this blessed liquor I'll take you to 
 the threshold, cut your bags, and let your music 
 about the fields." 
 
 " Never fear," said Murthock, stirring his 
 arm with somewhat quicker motion ; though he 
 only repeated the former air (if air it might be 
 called which air had none) in more jigging 
 time ; in truth, except in the instance of his 
 having been born blind, nature never intended 
 Murthock for a musician ; his strains did not 
 fail, however, to impose on his audience, and 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 173 
 
 inspire them with many a vociferous shout, at 
 which, well pleased, the creature smiled in self- 
 flattery, and then plied his bellows with might 
 and main, so that his chanter squeaked more 
 and more shrilly, and his drone grunted more 
 and more deeply, as if in ill humour with its 
 own music ; the whole effect not unlike a noise 
 to which, we believe, it has sometimes been lo- 
 cally compared, namely, a litter of young pigs 
 making clamourous demands on their poor worn- 
 out dam, which, in gruff expostulation, she ad- 
 raits or rejects. 
 
 Pierce had sat down among these people un- 
 willingly, and with a mind unfit to mix in such 
 a scene of loud and rude merriment ; but the 
 noggins were often and often emptied to his 
 long life, and reign, and health, and he could 
 not fail to pledge his companions in as oft re- 
 peated draughts. We have heard experienced 
 sages complain (as who has not?) that the miser- 
 able thin potation of our degenerate day is 
 nothing to the substantial shebeen of the days 
 that are gone; and Pierce Shea felt and proved 
 the truth of half at least of this assertion. After 
 the ice of temperance and self-command is once 
 broken, there is no heartier tippler than a sor- 
 rowful man; the sudden and wild relief he has 
 
174 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 received he will wildly endeavour to keep up, 
 and this can only be done by successive liba- 
 tions; so, Pierce drank on as rapidly as any 
 around him ; felt his heart grow lighter and 
 lighter ; and at last, to Murthock's extreme con- 
 solation, became as noisy as any other man in 
 the hovel. 
 
 In the midst of his utmost enjoyment, the 
 little rustic prig, who sat by his side, laying his 
 hand on Pierce's arm, said, 
 
 " Bud, mtisha my poor boy, that's thrue — 
 you're still in the hunt for Alley Doolin', we 
 hear ; an' isn't id a strange thing to be supposed, 
 an' a shameful thing to be hard spoken of, that 
 you're livin' to this day of your life among the 
 neighbours, an' never joined yourself to the 
 jolly lads, that, sayin' nothin' o' their glory in 
 the good cause, are the only livin' sowls to help 
 you to a sight iv her?" 
 
 Pierce was about to reply with much vivacity, 
 when one of the young peasants, commencing 
 by a prefatory yell, sung out — " Yes ! — 
 
 " They must lave off their tithin' an rackin' iv acres. 
 Or we'll roast 'em as brown as a loaf at the baker's ; 
 An' we'll nip off their ears, an' we'll lave their heads bare, 
 As they do wid the calves in the county Kildare." 
 
 These lines were chorussed by the whole set. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 175 
 
 at a mad shouting pitch of voice, that made the 
 wattles of the roof ring again, and Pierce could 
 scarce get in his earnest^question of — " Do ?/oz«," 
 to the little man, — " or do any of you know 
 where Alley Dooling is to be found V 
 
 " Fair an' asy, now," replied the school- 
 master, who seemed by general consent, or un- 
 disputed privilege, to be official spokesman, 
 " for it's fair an' asy that goes far in the day ; 
 do we know any thing iv your sweetheart, is id? 
 May be we do, may be. we don't ; an', case we 
 do, what's the raison, I say once agin that you're 
 not like a son o' green Ireland, the crature, 
 doin' as mooch as you can, ae' sorry in your 
 heart that you can't do more, against the rievin,' 
 plundherin', murtherin' rapperies o' tithe proc- 
 tors, the bitther foes iv ould Ireland's land ; — 
 slingin' at home, becase the blow doesn't sthrike 
 hard on yourself, an' never heeding the moans 
 o' the poor neighbours, that are left to starve, 
 or rot like ould horses in the ditches, becase 
 the Sassenach clargy, that doesn't care a crooked 
 sthraw for them or theirs, must have grand 
 houses to live in, brave horses to hunt, coaches 
 to take their pleasure in, an' costly fastes, where 
 there's the mate iv all kinds, every day in the 
 year, Fridays an' all, an' wine galore to dhrink '' 
 
176 CROHOORR OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 — the orator paused in his set speech, now for 
 the hundredth time repeated, to ply his noggin, 
 as speaking is dry work, and with a bitter and 
 indignant regret, no doubt, that his was not the 
 wine to which he had alluded — " why, you don't 
 look like a boy that 'ud be a sprissaun, or afeard 
 to do a thing becase a bit o' danger might lie 
 in the way?'' 
 
 He here made another pause, as if inviting 
 some reply ; and, as Pierce looked up to speak, 
 he observed a leer on the face of the younger 
 part of the assembly, which he suspected might 
 be interpreted into scorn of his want of spirit, 
 hinted at in the latter part of the pedagogue's 
 address : his eyes, rapid as lightning, glanced on 
 Doran, — who all this time continued his half- 
 sitting posture at one end of the table, coolly 
 tapping it with a switch, — to assertain whether 
 or not the general sneer was borrowed from 
 him ; but his friend's countenance betrayed no 
 mark of any thing insulting or disagreeable ; 
 then, knitting his brows, and looking hard at 
 the fellow who wore the broadest grin — 
 
 " Is there any man here," he asked, " who 
 dares to question my courage, or say I fear 
 danger?" The lad, immediately apprehending 
 his meaning, changed at once the expression of 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 177 
 
 his features, and thrusting his hand iu amity 
 across the table, ** Never a one 'ud say id to 
 your father's son, master Pierce, ^-bouchal," 
 he exclaimed ; " but," assuming a jocose cast of 
 face, and winking at Pierce, while he nodded 
 at the orator, " there's one thing Mourteen left 
 out in his noration, an' myself was goin' to put 
 in his mind, that it's from us, poor cratures iv 
 Romans that we are, — go vioch a Dieu uriv /* — 
 it's from us, an' we have the sin iv id on our 
 heads, the sassenach clargy takes what buys the 
 mate they ates iv a Friday, an' will we be afther 
 lettin' 'em do a thing that no christhen sowl 'ud 
 do, barrin' he was a dog?" 
 
 " Whoo ! by my sowkens," said another, 
 *' that's the worst o' the story ; arrah, Mourteen, 
 what made you forget that ?" 
 
 " Musha, how can a body think iv every 
 thing at once ?" said a third, " an, tho' Mourteen 
 happened to spake about the mishtioch -f* o' the 
 boy, it's well known that if he war as handy at 
 every thing as he is at the tongue, the divil 
 himself, Lord save us, couldn't stand afore 
 him." 
 
 But old Mourteen, nothing discountenanced 
 at this raillery, and looking upon himself as 
 
 * God look down on us. t Courage, or spunk. 
 
 I 3 
 
178 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-IIOOK. 
 
 much above them as mind is above matter, only 
 vouchsafed a scornful glance at his boyish com- 
 panions, and, pulling down his wig with both 
 hands, prepared to concltide his speech, while 
 they, leaning forward on their elbows, put on 
 faces of mock gravity and attention. In fact, 
 Mourteen prided himself on his eloquence, and 
 never failed to exercise it when good occasion 
 offered : and the opportunity of haranguing 
 and converting Pierce was too rare and too fa- 
 vourable to be neglected. He had enlisted many 
 in the war against tithe-proctors, and so far was 
 valued ; but like his great prototype, the Athe- 
 nian orator, Mourteen was rather the cause of 
 courage in others than distinguished for that 
 virtue in his own person; in one word, his 
 friends knew him to be a rank coward ; and at 
 this constitutional weakness the shafts of their 
 satire were now directed. Pierce, however, un- 
 acquainted with the fact, and not understanding 
 the humour of the party, listened attentively to 
 the conclusion of Mourteen's lecture, which ran 
 as follows : 
 
 " Hasn't the sassenach clargy, I say, all Ire- 
 land to himself every tenth year, while the world 
 is a world, an' sure, if he had a conscience along 
 wid id, that might be enough, an' not for to 
 
CROHOORF. OF THE BILL-HOOK. 179 
 
 send the bloody proctor on our back, to lift the 
 double o' that, again ; to take the food from 
 our mouths, our christhen mouths, an' the rag 
 o'coverin' from our beds an' our bodies ; an' our 
 own poor clargy, God bless 'em, that kept wid 
 us in want an' sorrow, an' cums to us night an' 
 mornin', thro' wet an' dhry, could an' hardship, 
 to stand by our sick beds, an' make christhen 
 souls in us, — what do they get but the bits an' 
 scraps, the scrapins- and lavins the sassenach 
 laves behind ; the sassenach that rises the hire 
 widout arnin' id, robbin' id from them that does ; 
 the sassenach that thought to tear and burn us 
 up, root an' branch; that hunted our sogarths 
 like bastes o' the field, an' hung an' shot them an' 
 all iv us, just because we said our prayers afther 
 the fashion o' them that went afore us, an' cum 
 after us, and 'ill do the same for ever an' ever, 
 amin, praise God, and thank God that laves us 
 the wondher to tell that we're here to do id 
 at all — musha, musha ! " — Mourteen added, 
 hastening his peroration from a misgiving of 
 some slight confusion of ideas, and a dread of 
 getting farther bogged — (as he would himself 
 have called it) " musha, an' ochown-a-rie, it's 
 enough to make a body run mad to think iv id !" 
 " I believe what you say is true," said Pierce, 
 
180 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 ill reply to this holding forth, and anticipating 
 Mourteen's tormentors, who, with many a shrewd 
 wink, were preparing to open their battery on 
 the spokesman; ''but my father has all along 
 taught me to ask what I now ask you — how 
 much good has come or can come from all you 
 «re able to do ? little mischief to your real op- 
 pressors, and your own death upon the gallows, 
 more certainly than the relief you look for." 
 
 His attention was here rivetted by the mise- 
 rable man opposite to him, who, at once, with 
 that violence of action and furious contortion of 
 countenance for which the Irish peasant is re- 
 markable, poured out a speech in his native 
 tongue, adopting it instinctively as the most 
 ready and powerful medium of expressing his 
 feelings ; for one who boggles, and stammers, and 
 is ridiculous in English, becomes eloquent in 
 Irish: we follow the speaker in translation, 
 which will necessarily shew none of the rude 
 patois he must have betrayed had he attempted, 
 ^s all the others did, to display his feelings in a 
 language almost unknown to them and him. 
 " Who talks of the good we can do ? — we look 
 not to do good ; we are not able nor fit to do 
 good ; we only want our revenge ! — A.nd that, 
 while we are men, and have strong hands, 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 181 
 
 and broken hearts, and brains on fire with the 
 memory of our sufferings — that we can take. 
 Your father, young man, never writhed in the 
 proctor's gripe ; he has riches, and they bring 
 peace and plenty, so that the robber's visit was 
 not felt or heeded ; but look at me !" — With the 
 fingers of one hand he pressed violently his 
 sallow and withered cheek, and with the other 
 tore open the scanty vesture, that, leaving him 
 uncovered from the shoulders to the ribs, exhi- 
 bited a gaunt skeleton of tha human form — " I 
 have nothing to eat, no house to sleep in ; my 
 starved body is without covering, and those 
 I loved and that loved me, the pulses of my 
 heart, are gone ; how gone, and how am I as 
 you see me ? — Twelve months ago I had a 
 home, and covering, and food, and the young 
 wife, the mother of my children, with me at our 
 fire-side ; but the plunderer came on a sudden ; 
 I was in his debt ; he has a public- house, and 
 he saw me sitting in another in the village ; he 
 took my cow, and he took my horse ; he took 
 them to himself; I saw them — and may all ill- 
 luck attend his ill-got riches! — I saw them 
 grazing on his own lands ; I was mad ; every 
 thing went wrong with me ; my landlord came, 
 and swept the walls and the floor of my cabin ; 
 
182 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 my wife died in her labour; — who was to stand 
 up for me ? — where had I a friend, or a great 
 one to help me I — No one ; no where; there is 
 no friend, no help, no mercy, no law for the 
 poor Irishman ; he may be robbed — stripped — 
 insulted — set mad — but he has no earthly friend 
 but himself!" 
 
 The wretch sprung from his seat, seized his 
 vessel, and with the look and manner of a 
 maniac, indeed, added — 
 
 " And here let every man pledge me ! May 
 his heart wither, and his children and name 
 perish !^ — May the grass grow on his hearth- 
 stone, and no kin follow his corpse to the grave, 
 who will refuse to wreak on the hard-hearted 
 proctors the revenge they provoke by the sor- 
 rows they inflict !" 
 
 All had arisen ; even the old woman had 
 stretched her wrinkled face and stringy neck into 
 the circle, and, as the toast was quaffed, her 
 shrill tones mingled with the hoarse " amen" 
 that followed. In this moment of frenzj^ and 
 inebriation, — his youthful sympathy in their 
 cause grafted on the hope of recovering his 
 mistress, — did Pierce Shea take the White- 
 boys' oath, and with wild clamour was his inau- 
 guration celebrated. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. l83 
 
 " And now," said Doran, when the uproar 
 had somewhat subsided, speaking in a calm and 
 earnest voice and manner, " listen to me, all : 
 I appoint Pierce Shea my first lieutenant for 
 the Parish of Clarah ; are all content?" — 
 
 A general hurrah, joined with new congratu- 
 lations, shaking of his hand, and drinking to his 
 health, was the answer. 
 
 " And you freely accept the commission ?" 
 Doran resumed, fixing his eye on Shea, and 
 proffering his hand also. 
 
 "I accept it; but — no matter! — I accept it 
 unconditionally ; I join you for your own sakes ; 
 for your cause, your wrongs, and your revenge; 
 for your success or failure — for good or ill — 
 redress or the gallows." 
 
 " It is enough," said Doran, violently squeez- 
 ing Shea's hand, while his eyes sparkled and his 
 cheeks grew pale with strong emotion. 
 
 " Meantime," resumed Pierce, " let me fairly 
 own that another motive first led me this evening 
 among you." 
 
 " We know what you mane," interrupted 
 Mourteen, "an' are ready an' willin' to remem- 
 ber id ; sure one good turn desarves another." 
 
 "You all know my situation, men," said 
 Pierce, after a pause, dropping his head on his 
 
184 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 hand, to hide the overflowing tears that a 
 moment's recurrence to his personal misfortunes 
 rendered irresistible. 
 
 " We do, we do," they cried out, " an' it's 
 the hearts in our bodies that are achin' for you, 
 Masther Pierce, a-roon ; an' wait 'till we show 
 you so mooch, widout more talkin' about id." 
 
 " It's only thought an' expected," continued 
 Mourteen, " that our new lieutenant 'ill cum 
 wid us one night, just to make clear an' clane 
 his good wishes for the cause, an' the next 
 night will bring him sthraight a-head on Cro- 
 hoore-na-bilhoge." 
 
 " That's id ; that's the very thing," the men 
 repeated. 
 
 " I shall not fail," answered Pierce. 
 
 " Then, I believe," said Doran, " our busi- 
 ness for to-morrow night is to call, out of love 
 and kindness, on Peery Clancy, the friend of 
 poor Terence Delany here," nodding at the man 
 who had harangued them in Irish. 
 
 " Life will be spared ?" asked Pierce, 
 
 " Life and limb ; unless ears are legs or arms," 
 answered Doran ; and Pierce objected or ques- 
 tioned no further ; though he saw a grim smile 
 of disagreeable expression on the features of 
 Terence Delany. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 185 
 
 " An' in throth," said one of the young fel- 
 lows, " I'm tould the poor man is hard o' hear- 
 in' ; a great pity, sure, when it's a thing so asy to 
 be righted ; fur there is nothin' in the wide 
 world to do, but just crop the ears as close to 
 the head as a body can, an' I'll take my swear 
 he'll hear a Whiteboy, at any rate, fur a good 
 mile o' ground, as long as he lives, ever af- 
 ther." 
 
 " Musba, that 'ill be no more nor a chris- 
 then turn," said another; "fur who wouldn't 
 pity a poor body that's deaf, like him I an' 
 Bryan Whichpatrick must scrawb him a good 
 tune on the fiddle, when he gets the gift o' 
 hearin'." 
 
 They had attached to their body a man of the 
 name here mentioned, or rather of a name like 
 it, i^i/z-patrick being its true pronunciation, 
 who was their poet and musician, and who 
 always added effect to their processions, when 
 they paraded a poor proctor to the place of his 
 punishment. 
 
 " Aye," said Mourteen, " an' we may as well 
 plant him in the ground up to his chin just to 
 see if he'd sprout into an honest man." 
 
 " Aroch, there's little fear o' that," he was 
 answered ; " fur if you war to sow an acre o' 
 
186 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 proctors, the duoul a worse crop could a poor 
 body have to look nt in the harvest time." 
 
 " Och, an' have a care boys," said another, 
 " bud they'd grow up into a nate crop o' hemp, 
 that 'ud make caravats fur some iv us, as asy as 
 we're takin' id." 
 
 Thus in the spirit of that peculiar levity and 
 jeer which the Irish peasantry mingle with the 
 feeling and execution of their very hardships, 
 despair, and revenge, did they discuss the busi- 
 ness of the night, until Doran, rising up and 
 smartly rapping the table, said, 
 
 " Come, come, enough for to night ; every 
 man quietly and by himself to his home, — if he 
 has one ; Murthock, don't sleep over your part 
 of the work ; be careful to warn all the boys ; 
 you're better at it than at your music, my good 
 fellow." 
 
 "Hah! hah I Rhia Doran; you're welcome 
 to your joke ; bud, afore to-morrow night, all 
 the boys in the parish 'ill know id, plaise God, 
 iv Murthock does be a live piper," 
 
 Upon this, the council broke up, and Pierce 
 and Doran returned to old Shea's house. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 187 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Whrn Pierce Shea had slept away his intoxi- 
 cation, and with it the enthusiasm it had ex- 
 cited, he awoke to feel the goadings of an up- 
 braiding conscience ; for he recollected he had 
 broken his father's most positive injunction. 
 The old man's good sense early perceived that 
 the acts committed by the Whiteboys, even di- 
 vested of their immoral and cruel character, 
 could only, in the end, bring ruin on themselves. 
 He was rich, as Terence Deiany remarked, 
 and the tithe-proctor had been to him but the 
 cause of a pecuniary loss, which, however un- 
 willingly he might have suffered it, was in itself 
 of little inconvenience : his passions escaped, 
 therefore, undue agitation, and his reason exer- 
 cised a comparatively unbiassed sway. 
 
 Pierce was a dutiful son, as well from prin- 
 ciple as inclination ; his father was, to his only 
 child, a fond and good father, and, exclusive of 
 the affection this ensured in a warm and vir- 
 tuous heart, he entertained the highest opinion 
 
188 CKOHOORE OF THE BILL- HOOK. 
 
 of his parent's good sense ; it was, therefore, 
 afflicting to him to reflect on what he had done, 
 in joining an association, from all intercourse 
 with which the paternal voice had repeatedly 
 commanded and warned him ; in addition to his 
 other causes of unhappiness, the thought made 
 him very wretched ; and when, the next night, 
 he stole with a felon's step from his- father's 
 roof to assist in an illegal outrage, a foreboding 
 of heavy and retributive evil to follow caused 
 his heart to sink in his bosom. 
 
 But he had solemnly sworn to obey his cap- 
 tain in all things, and a refusal to comply with 
 the present order. Pierce shuddered to think, 
 might lay the sin of perjury on his soul. His 
 courage and consistency, too, would at once be 
 questioned ; and then came the strongest and 
 most beguiling argument of all — his conduct on 
 this night was to aid in discovering and re- 
 leasing his mistress, and in dragging to punish- 
 ment the murderer of her parents. Right or 
 wrong, it was a sacrifice called for at his hands 
 by the loudest voice of love, duty, and neces- 
 sity ; and so he braced himself to concede to it, 
 like a man to whom desperate recourses are the 
 only alternative. 
 
 Doran awaited, and joined him at a short 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 189 
 
 distance from his father's house ; wearing over 
 his clothes a shirt, the distinguishing garb of 
 the fraternity, whence was derived their deno- 
 mination of White- boys, and armed with two 
 pistols secured in a belt, whilst at his back 
 was slung a huge bullock's-horn, which, be- 
 sides being used to sound the different signals, 
 was a badge of command worn only by leaders. 
 Pierce, according to orders, had also provided 
 himself with a shirt, horn, and arms, which being 
 now adjusted, the friends set out at a brisk pace. 
 
 Even to Doran, Shea disguised his real feel- 
 ings, apprehensive that any doubt or misgiving 
 might be construed into pusillanimity or cow- 
 ardice, terms ever most humiliating and dis- 
 tressing to a young man's ear ; he even forced 
 himself to affect the swagger of a bravo, than 
 which nothing could be more loathsome to his 
 mind and spirits, while Doran volubly rehearsed, 
 half in laughter, the feats and glories that night 
 to be realized. 
 
 After some smart walking, they ascended an 
 eminence, about half a mile from Pierce's home, 
 where Rhia Doran, putting his gigantic horn to 
 his mouth, blew a deafening blast, that— our ve- 
 racious old chroniclers have often assured us, — 
 could be distinctly heard at the distance of three 
 
190 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 Irish miles, if the night was still, and the low 
 breeze favourable. In an instant he was an- 
 swered from other eminences, contiguous and 
 far off, and all around ; and a final flourish, that 
 startled the ear of night, in the low country, al- 
 most at their feet, terminated the signals. 
 
 " And now, lieutenant, to the place of 
 muster !" said Doran ; and, descending the hill 
 together, they approached a number of men who 
 were assembled in a field at a little distance. 
 As the friends joined them, others were seen 
 scrambling or leaping over fences on every side, 
 all garbed like themselves, but only a few with 
 horns and weapons, the majority being uubadged 
 and unarmed. After a short pause the muster 
 seemed completed ; they gathered in silent 
 bustle round Doran and Shea, and the former 
 inquired, 
 
 " Is every thing ready with you, boys ?" 
 
 " All right, an' nate, an' purty, captain, agra, 
 an' in our glory," he was answered. 
 
 " The nags, then !" cried Doran. They ran 
 to the four corners of the field, or jumped into 
 the adjoining one, and every man returned hold- 
 ing a horse, that had been pressed from different 
 farms on their route, nor were the worst put in 
 requisition. The two finest and grandest steeds 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 191 
 
 having been presentnd to Dorau and Shea, the 
 leader at once mounted, exclaiming, 
 
 " Well then, jolly boys as ye are, up and ram 
 along ; and the divil take the hindmost for his 
 supper !" 
 
 All were instantly on horseback, and with a 
 stifled, though general "hurra!" dashed off at 
 full speed, first, over the hedges and fences im- 
 mediately around them, then, sometimes over a 
 bit of road, if it happened to come in the way, 
 but for the most part over hedge and ditch, 
 again, hill and hollow, stream and bog, like mad 
 and evil spirits careering with the night-blast, 
 their hoarse°and guttural " hurra ! " still occasion- 
 ally breaking out in wild and unearthly cadence. 
 
 Few accidents occurred on this headlong ride, 
 and those of no importance, if it be taken into 
 consideration that, with the exception of Doran 
 and Shea, no man of the party sat in saddle, 
 nor had even a bridle to direct or govern his 
 steed ; blessed was he that boasted so much as a 
 halter ; and it must be allowed that under such 
 disadvantages they displayed considerable skill 
 in horsemanship ; much more, we are inclined 
 to think, than a regularly drilled squadron of 
 dragoons would shew, if similarly accoutred and 
 situated. 
 
192 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-FIOOK. 
 
 And " hurra ! hurra !" they still muttered as 
 they still swept along, until, after somewhat more 
 than an hour's mad driving, the horses began to 
 stumble and totter from fatigue. Then Doran's 
 voice was again heard. 
 
 " We ought to be near upon the place for a 
 change, " he said to those immediately around 
 him. 
 
 "At the foot o' the rath afore you, captain," 
 was the answer. 
 
 He sounded his horn, and was promptly an- 
 swered from the direction pointed out, and, 
 spurring and lashing, he set the example of one 
 desperate push to gain the point of relief. 
 
 " Faultha, faultha,* to the rattlin' boys that 
 dhrive by night !" was shouted by many voices, 
 as at last they came up the destined hill. 
 
 Doran instantly flung himself from his saddle, 
 asking, " How many horses have you ?" 
 
 " Five- an '-forty, captain, you darlin' o' fel- 
 lows." 
 
 " Enough ; and enough is as good as a feast :" 
 then turning to Pierce, during an instant's 
 delay in changing their saddles, " Come, lieu- 
 tenant, your hand ; b}^ the blessed moon you are 
 a brave White-boy, already !" the girths were 
 * Welcome, welcome. 
 
GROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 193 
 
 now tightened, the bridle flung to him, and he 
 was again on horseback in a twinkling, adding, 
 to the party that had met them, " We'll be here 
 again in an hour, be sure to have bastes ready ;" 
 and " up, and ram along, boys 1" was again the 
 word, and onward all again dashed at tho same 
 furious rate as before. 
 
 At last they entered amid a few straggling 
 huts, built at irregular distances, and in disor- 
 derly lines, dignified by the inhabitants with 
 the name of a village. The stillness and so- 
 briety of night prevailed ; no light gleamed 
 from the wretched cabins, and the hour of la- 
 bour and life seemed to have sunk in repose ; 
 yet, as they clattered along, door after door 
 was stealthily opened, half-dressed figures, male 
 and female, appeared at each, and the oft-re- 
 peated salutation of" Dieu liuve a-vouc7ieelee7i,"* 
 uttered in that bitter and gurgling tone in which 
 they would have set their mastiffs on a detested 
 enemy, told that the mission of the riders wat 
 understood and appreciated ; and when they 
 reached the forge, or smithy, a man issuing 
 thence with candles, a lighted sod of turf, and r, 
 sledge, proved that they had been duly ex- 
 pected. 
 
 * God speed you, lads. 
 VOL. I. K 
 
194 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 ** Is the ould bird in the nest?" asked Doran 
 of this person, as he pulled up. 
 
 '' Och, an' that he is, snug an' warm, an' 
 waitin' fur you, captain, a-chorra." 
 
 "Well; that's civil and dacent of him, after 
 all, poor sowl — shew the way, Thady." 
 
 There was a house standing apart from the 
 others, distinguished from them as well by its 
 station as by its great superiority of extent and 
 appearance ; through its thatched roof pro- 
 truded a forked stick, to which appended a 
 sign board, that, had it been day-light, might 
 be seen to boast a dull raddle ground, with a 
 black shape thereon, having, very necessarily 
 and wisely, " The Black Bull " painted in black 
 letters above its head and beneath its feet : and 
 lower down still was also painted. 
 
 mint 
 Enthertain 
 
 for man and horse — 
 
 At the door of this doomed abode, the party 
 stopt ; it was the residence of Terence Delany's 
 undoer, and the same swaggering tithe-proctor 
 whose portrait we have before attempted to 
 sketch. 
 
 With the utmost possible silence, the party 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 195 
 
 ranged themselves about the house, so as to 
 prevent escape, and then, having lighted their 
 candles, by blowing at the red turf, one clash 
 from the eighteen pound sledge burst the door 
 open. Doran, and three others, who were 
 armed, rushed in. Pierce being left in command 
 of the main body outside. The visitors took 
 their measures so well and so speedily, that they 
 seized on the terrified proctor as he crept under 
 the bed from which he had just arisen. 
 
 " Arragh, then, crawl back wid yourself, here, 
 my ould bouchal," said one of the men, as he 
 dragged him by the legs into the middle of the 
 room. 
 
 " An' isn't it a burnin' shame," cried another, 
 " to see a responshible, well-doin' body, like 
 you, go fur to hide yourself like a chree-chraw- 
 tha, afther we comin' so far a journey to see 
 you 1 Foch upon you ! to sarve your own cou- 
 sins in sich a way, in your own house," 
 
 " Mostha, becase he does so shabby by us, 
 it's a long day 'till we cum see him agin," said 
 a third. 
 
 " In throth, Peery, agra, it's little right 
 you have to give us the neen-s7ia~sthig ,•* fur 
 your mother's people, and that's oursefs, that 
 * Not at home. 
 
 K 2 
 
196 CROHOORE OF THE B1LL-H00K» 
 
 are all come o' the Mulcahys, is an auld dacent 
 stock." 
 
 " Don't be spakin' to our cOseen afther that 
 fashion; mysef is a'most sure, by the pleasant 
 face that's on him, he's glad in the heart to have 
 us undher his roof this blessed night." 
 
 Such was the mockery bandied from one to 
 another, while the unfortunate man sat stupified 
 in the middle of the room, looking around him 
 in hopelessness and horror, and in dreadful 
 anticipations of the tortures he well knew 
 awaited him. Twice bad he been admonished 
 to rise, without shewing any sense of the words 
 addressed to his ear, until at last a smart appli- 
 cation of Doran's whip to his shoulders, and 
 the shrill tones and terrible words of, " Come 
 out for your tithing, Peery !" that accompanied 
 the blow, roused him from his lethargy. But 
 he only clasped his hands and cried for mercy ; 
 and when by main force the three men pro- 
 ceeded to carry him out, his instinctive strug- 
 gles for freedom only called down, again and 
 again, an answer from Doran's whip. 
 
 " Och, gentlemen, gentlemen, honies, take 
 pity on a poor man !" he repeated, as they bore 
 him over his own threshold. 
 
 " Asy now, Peery ; considher wid your con- 
 
CROHOORE OF TflE BILL-HOOK. 197 
 
 science ; an' don't be axin' from us the thing 
 you never yet had for man or baste, your own 
 sef," was the reply, that shewed how little com- 
 miseration he had to expect. 
 
 Outside the door, Doran refreshed his men 
 with some liquor, for which he had ransacked 
 the house, and then proceeded to put them in 
 order of procession. First he called for Bryan 
 Fitzpatric, poet and musician to the body, as 
 has before been mentioned, who manufactured 
 all their songs, and who was so intimately ac- 
 quainted with the muses, that, by their assist- 
 ance, he gave his own history ; beginning thus — 
 
 '' Och ! sure 'twas from the sweet county of Leithrim I came, 
 An' I plays on the fiddle, Bryan Fitzpatrick by name." 
 
 A most important personage on show occa- 
 sions like the present, he now came forward at 
 call to take rightful place at the van of the array. 
 Peery Clancy, mounted on his own pampered 
 gelding, had the next place; and immediately 
 followed Captain Rhia Doran, with Shawn 
 O 'Burke, who had learned to emit from that 
 most primitive, though unwieldy instrument, his 
 bullock's horn, such a variety of strain, suited 
 to every occasion, whether martial, triumphant, 
 or pathetic, as with some created him a rival 
 of Baron Fitzpatrick, muse, fiddle, and all ; 
 
198 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 whilst, to the unprejudiced ear, his variations 
 equalled, at least, the different transitions from 
 high and low lowing-, to high and low bellowing, 
 once practised by the animal to which his in- 
 strument had originally been an appendage. 
 Shawn rode at the right hand of the captain : 
 at the left was Yemen O'Nase^ " the finisher 
 of the law j" the rest, brought up by Pierce, 
 followed in what order they might. At the 
 first movement from the house, Bryan Fitz- 
 patrick drew his fiddle-stick, and was instantly 
 seconded by Shawn O'Burke, whose doleful 
 blate certainly outdid his competitor, in every 
 way, on this occasion ; heretofore, whatever 
 Bryan lost in loudness and power, he had been 
 enabled to make up by melody ; but now he 
 only produced a most unaccountable noise, and^ 
 in pure comparison with noises, a contemptible 
 one ; truth is, he had been so unlucky as to 
 tumble from his horse during the rapid ride, 
 and, to his great consternation, when he uncased 
 his fiddle, it appeared wofully disabled by the 
 accident, one side being battered in, and all the 
 strings snapped across ; his only resource was, 
 in the short pause aff'orded, to knot together 
 two lengths at random, each of which he after- 
 wards found was composed of different scraps 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 199 
 
 of different strings, first, second, third, and 
 base, as they came to his fingers ; — the result 
 we have described. But, as the troop passed 
 along in order, the loud shouting of the men 
 rose for his relief, drowning, as the outcry rent 
 the air, his pitiful minstrelsy ; the inmates of the 
 hovels, at their doors, or lying on their straw, 
 joined the uproar, and even the shrill scream of 
 women, and the tiny pipes of children, could 
 be distinguished; there was no pity for [Peery 
 Clancy. 
 
 ■They arrived at the place where he was to 
 undergo his punishment. History, the faithful 
 mirror of truth, the rigid chronicler of facts, 
 proceeds in her duteous detail without consider- 
 ation for the squeamishness of nerves ; among 
 other instances of the principle, the legal re- 
 tribution visited on Damien and Ravaillac has 
 found its careful registrars ; nor, in this transcript 
 of real scenes, shall the illegal violence done to 
 an Irish tithe-proctor want true and courageous 
 historians : therefore proceed we in the circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Conformably with the other preparations, a 
 grave was dug for the proctor's reception, close 
 by a hedge in a contiguous field ; in this he was 
 laid, and covered with loose earth to the chin ; 
 
200 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK, 
 
 and then did Yemen O'Nase, who, like Shy- 
 lock, had for some time been busily occupied 
 sharpening upou a flat stone the broad blade of 
 his pruning-knife, advance, and, in the in-felt 
 pride of being a dexterous operator, exclaim, 
 
 " Well ; we're all ready \ an' it 's a sweet bit of 
 a blade that's in you, for one knife ; och, bud 
 it isn't none o' your blades that's fit for nothin' 
 but cuttin' butther ; I gi' you my conscience, 
 this holy an' blessed night, 'twould take the 
 horns iv a ten-year-ould bull, not to spake iv a 
 poor proctor's ears, though them same does be 
 hard enough in regard of all the prayers they 
 ■won't hear, an' all the lies they tell ; come, 
 come," interrupting himself, as he knelt down 
 to his work, " none o' your ochowns, Peery ; 
 don't be the laste unasy in yoursef, a-gra ; you 
 may be right sartiu, I'll do the thing nate an' 
 handy ; tut, man," in reply to a shrill scream, 
 " I'd whip the ears iv a bishop, not to talk of a 
 crature like you, a darker night nor this ; divil a 
 taste I'd lave him : an' wouldn't bring any o' 
 the head wid me, neither— Musha, what ails you 
 at all ?" after he had half accomplished his task; 
 " you'd have a betther right to give God praise 
 for gittin' into the hands iv a clever boy, like 
 me, that— stop a bit, now — that 'ud only do his 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 201 
 
 captain's orders, aif, not be lettin' the steel slip 
 frum your ear across your wind-pipe. Lord save 
 the hearers — stop, I say — there, now ; wasn't 
 that done purty ?" 
 
 " Why, Peery," said another, " bear in mind 
 that it's all fur the good o' your poor sowl we're 
 so kind to you ; sure there's no doubt at all that 
 the proctors, every mother's son o' them, go 
 sthrait-a-head to the divil ; but I'll be bould to 
 say that Peery Clancy, that was buried, — an' a 
 dacent berrin he got, wid his own people around 
 him, — an' Peery Clancy, that 'ill be afther him, 
 won't be the same body, at-all-at-all, in regard 
 that one had wings to his head, an' the t'other 
 not one in the world ; you won't be the same 
 man, only some one else; an', more betoken, 
 the penance o' this night 'ill be mighty good far 
 you in the time to come : take care o' yoursef 
 there, a-vich." 
 
 " Goad night, Peery; an' sure you have all 
 the crop we can gi' you," added others. 
 
 " To make every thing sure," said Doran, 
 " you must just swear as I desire you, Peery, 
 or have Yemen at your throttle, along with your 
 ears ; give me the book." 
 
 A prayer-book was handed to him, which he 
 
 K 3 
 
202 CROHOORE OF THE BlLL-HOr)K. 
 
 held to be kissed by the proctor, and the buried- 
 alive swore never again to follow his unpopular 
 profession, A sentinel was then placed over 
 him, also sworn to release the sufferer in an hour. 
 
 " And now for the sallin-na-morra /" cried 
 Doran ; " strike up, Bryan ; Shawn ! your horn ; 
 attention, men, and chorus." 
 
 The sallifi-na-morra, or death-prayers, was 
 a celebrated chant, pathetico-ludicrous, com- 
 posed and sung to his fiddle, by Bryan Fitz- 
 patrick, on all such occasions as the present ; 
 and, while the party gathered round the proctor, 
 it now arose, according to orders, first as a 
 plaintive solo by the son of the muses, and then 
 chorussed in terrific diapason by the whole 
 body, joined to the utmost effort of Shawn's 
 horn, and, indeed, of all the other horns pre- 
 sent. After one encore, Doran flung himself 
 on his horse, and his words, " up, and ram 
 along !" — were the signal for the retreat of his 
 troop, whose wild " hurrah !" — testified their 
 triumph, and readiness to accompany him, as 
 they at once vaulted on their bare-backed 
 coursers ; and away they set, over the ground 
 they had already travelled, at the same savage 
 speed in which they had arrived. 
 
CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 203 
 
 After driving some miles, Doran, who kept 
 abreast with Shea, carelessly said — ■ 
 
 " I'm sorry we have left the poor divil in 
 Terence Delany's hands, after all." 
 
 " I was going to say the same thing," replied 
 Pierce, " and to ask you if you think there is 
 any danger of the unfortunate creature's life ?" 
 
 '* Heaven knows, not I ; but you remarked 
 the tone of his voice, and expression of his face, 
 when he repeated my words, to release his pri- 
 soner in an hour?" 
 
 " I did ; and for that very reason have my 
 doubts ; suppose we turn back?" 
 
 " Nonsense !" shouted Doran, with a laugh ; 
 do you suppose I could get my men to run the 
 risk of any probable alarm that may now be 
 spread in the neighbourhood ? or that I would 
 dare it on my own account ? Let Terence and 
 the proctor settle it together." 
 
 " No, Doran ; we have already done enough — 
 too much. I, at least, regret, and during the 
 whole scene I regretted my share in such an un- 
 warrantable and cruel outrage;. and I, at least, 
 will endeavour to prevent murder." 
 
 " Oh, very well, lieutenant ; I have no wish 
 or cause to order you from such a benevolent 
 
204 CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 turn ; only it may now be too late ; you intend 
 riding- back by yourself?" 
 
 " Have I much to fear for my own life, if I 
 do I You said something of risk just now." 
 
 " Nothing of risk to a single man and horse, 
 though ; all is quiet, I believe ; you didn't no- 
 tice any one leave the house while you guarded 
 
 itr 
 
 " No, — good night," answered Pierce, check- 
 ing and turning his horse towards the village. 
 
 " Good night, then, and let us see you soon ; 
 on, boys, on !" — and the friends galloped in op- 
 posite directions. 
 
 The last clang of the White-boys' horses, 
 and the echo of their far harrah, were lost in dis- 
 tance to the victim's ear, and his faint moan was 
 then the only sound that disturbed the silence 
 of the night around him. Terence Delany, 
 his guard, stood over him, speechless and mo- 
 tionless : even his breathing was not whispered 
 by the still air. But, after a considerable pause, 
 he walked a few paces to the fence near which 
 the grave had been dug, and returned bent and 
 panting with some heavy burden round which 
 his arms were clasped ; it was a huge stone ; he 
 stooped and laid it down beside the bleeding head. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 205 
 
 Again he paused, and stood motionless ; but 
 at last his husky tones broke suddenly and omi- 
 nously upon the dead calm ; for the proctor's 
 moans had subsided into the feeble breathings 
 of exhaustion ; he spoke, as was his almost in- 
 variable custom, in the Irish language, of which 
 we will endeavour to give the substance, and 
 turn of speech. 
 
 " Know you, Peery Clancy, who it is that 
 stands over you in the lonesomeness and silence 
 of this night .'"' The answer came also in Irish ; 
 " I know not whom you are ; but, if you have a 
 christian's soul, you will release me from this 
 misery." 
 
 '' Did you never bring it to your mind, and 
 did the recollection of it never put your sleep 
 astray, when, stretched on a bed of comfort, 
 after a pleasant meal, that, by your deeds, Te- 
 rence Delany, and his wife, and his three poor 
 little children, were left houseless and hungry?" 
 
 "Oh! I am lost for ever!" moaned the 
 wretched man. 
 
 " Hah ! you know who stands over you, now! 
 yes, you sunk them and me in poverty and the 
 grave : you made me mad ! and you now lie 
 there, sure of the death-stroke from the arm of 
 the mad-man you made !" The victim shrieked. 
 
206 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 " Waste not your breath in idle cries ; I will 
 turn away, and give you a few minutes to make 
 your prayer of God ; when you hear my step 
 again near you, cry mercy on your own soul." 
 
 He walked aside. By one of those singular 
 coincidences which occur oftener than they are 
 noticed, the face of night suddenly changed ; 
 the stars became extinguished, and the wind 
 howled through the leafless branches. He 
 turned his brow upwards, as if confusedly af- 
 fected with the change ; paused his time, in 
 that position ; but then, starting wildly, hurried 
 back, and heedless of the frightful scream for 
 life and mercy, felt with his foot for the exact 
 situation of the head — stooped, and after many 
 efforts raised the ponderous stone ; poised it a 
 moment over the mark ; — when Pierce Shea 
 bounded upon him from the other side of the 
 hedge, forced him from his stand, and the rock 
 fell, with a dull and hollow sound, harmless on 
 the earth. 
 
 Delany instantly sprang on Shea, and with 
 both hands griped his throat ; Pierce seized 
 him in return, and swang him about, but the 
 iron grasp became firmer; the blood stopped 
 and throbbed in his head, and could not circu- 
 late ; so that breathing became a painful labour. 
 
CiaOHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 207 
 
 In a violent attempt to free himself, both fell to 
 the ground, and Delany entangled and locked 
 his legs with those of his adversary, who now 
 felt the man's hold tightened more and more, 
 and heard the gnashing of teeth at his ear, 
 while the pang of suffocation closed on his 
 heart. In a moment's rapid thought, however. 
 Pierce recollected a sleight he had learned in 
 wrestling, by which it was possible to release 
 himself from the disabling bondage the murderer 
 held over his legs ; and using it therefore, and 
 immediately after summoning an effort that the 
 fear of death could alone supply, he sprung on 
 his feet, bringing the other with him. This 
 shook Delany's grasp; and Pierce, instantly re- 
 lieved, bethought of another sleight, acquired also 
 in the wrestling-ring ; it was successful as the 
 first; his enemy swung loose from him; and 
 then a well-directed blow in the throat brought 
 him down senseless. 
 
 The victor stood a moment, faint and stag- 
 gering, before his strength or thoughts were 
 sufficiently recruited to follow up his success ; 
 in good time, however, he recovered, to bind 
 with his neck-cloth, handkerchief, and garters, 
 the ankles and arms of the prostrate man ; and 
 then, the blood resuming its channel, and his 
 
208 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 breath coming and going freely, he lost not a 
 moment in shovelling the earth off the nearly 
 expiring proctor, catching him in his arms, and 
 conveying him with incredible speed to his own 
 house, where, so soon as he had deposited his 
 burden, he sunk himself, breathless and feeble 
 with the unusual exertion and struggles he had 
 made. 
 
 The near noise of horses' hoofs, recalled his 
 senses to activity. At first he felt assured that 
 his friends, anxious about his absence and dan- 
 ger, had come back to protect him ; but a fear 
 that the riders might be enemies, not friends, 
 next sprung up in his mind, and he took 
 refuge under the bed, on which he had just left 
 the proctor, assured that, even if his worst sur- 
 mise were true, the man whose life he had 
 saved, at hazard of his own, would, by silence at 
 least, shield him from present danger. 
 
 In a moment he heard the shrill tones of a 
 boy calling out to some persons to follow, and 
 soon after a party of dragoons, headed by a 
 magistrate, clanked into the room. The boy, 
 suspected to be a natural son of the proctor, 
 had (not without the observation of Doran, 
 whose after-question on the road to Pierce 
 would seem to imply so much,) escaped from the 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 209 
 
 house, just as the White- boys had gained it, 
 and, seizing a horse that grazed in a neigh- 
 bouring field, set off for Kilkenny, where he 
 gave notice of what was going forward, and 
 quickly returned with civil and military aid. 
 
 To the questions put by the magistrate and 
 dragoons to the proctor, as to the probability of 
 apprehending any of the White-boj's, Pierce, it 
 may be supposed, listened with natural per- 
 turbation ; and for some time (he total silence of 
 the person interrogated seemed to argue him 
 safe from danger ; but the proctor, at last break- 
 ing a silence that bodily pain and fatigue had 
 alone caused, inquired whether or no he should 
 be entitled to a reward for discovering a White- 
 boy; and, when answered in the affirmative, 
 poor Shea heard the ungrateful wretch imme- 
 diately name the place of his concealment, and 
 charge him as being one of those who had as- 
 sisted at his torture ; a fact fully corroborated 
 by his white shirt and his arms, which in his 
 hurry he had not thrown aside. The reward of 
 his humanity, then, from the very person who 
 owed him his existence, was, in a few seconds, 
 to find himself a prisoner, with the dreadful 
 certainty staring him full in the face of ending 
 his life prematurely and ignomiuiously on the 
 
210 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 gallows, -when that life had so many great and 
 tender claims upon it ; and we think we cannot 
 sound Pierce's praise more highly than by 
 adding, that in this hour of ti'ial — of outraged 
 generosity and personal despair, he did not 
 rearret what he had done. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 It were easier, for the reader to imagine, than 
 for us to describe — (and the remark is, by the 
 way, an old ruse among us story-tellers, adopted, 
 — when unable to trace, or comprehend dis- 
 tinctly enough for description, the various 
 changes of the mind under strong and peculiar 
 sensations, — in order to put the reader in good 
 humour with our lack of ability, by thus slily com- 
 plimenting him on his own superior discernment ;) 
 but, it were easier, we say, for the reader to 
 imagine, than for us to describe, the thoughts and 
 feelings of Pierce Shea, in his present novel and 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BII.L-HOOK. 211 
 
 appalling situation, when the next morning's 
 dawn brought with it tardy remorse, and un- 
 avaiUng repentance. An habitual offender is in 
 constant apprehension of the punishment he 
 knows society has directed against those who 
 violate its laws, and, when his career is at last 
 about to be terminated, he is found in some 
 degree prepared for the fate he had always 
 dared and dreaded. This was not the case with 
 Pierce. His life had been calm, and free 
 from crime, and his participation in the acts that 
 now subjected him to a dreadful and just death 
 was a fatality rather than a choice. Forced 
 into the White-boy association and expedition, 
 by a master-motive very different from that 
 which impelled the others, he spoke but the 
 truth, when he declared to Doran that he was 
 an unwilling spectator of the cruelties prac- 
 tised ; in fact, he had not taken part in them, 
 his heart all along commiserated the sufferer, 
 and his present fate fully proved how sincerely. 
 Poor Pierce's situation was therefore terrible ; 
 yet less from a fear of death than from over- 
 whelming horror at the ignominy his public 
 execution should entail on his father, his mo- 
 ther, and himself; he recollected, too, that the 
 first step towards his fate was a breach of filial 
 
212 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 duty and reverence ; and Alley, for whom he 
 had ventured all, and now lost all — and who re- 
 mained not a whit the better for his rashness, 
 his error, and his ruin — what was to become of 
 her? 
 
 During the night, they had confined and 
 closely guarded him in the proctor's house. 
 Terence Delany was his fellow-prisoner, and the 
 man's dogged aspect would have repelled all 
 converse, even did not the presence of a sen- 
 tinel effectually prevent it. At the first break of 
 morning they were tied, each behind a dragoon ; 
 and the party, fourteen in number, exclusive of 
 the Serjeant in command, set out for Kilkenny 
 gaol. 
 
 They had travelled about half of their jour- 
 ney, and just left behind a slip of mountain 
 road, on each side of which hills clothed with 
 heath and fur, and rocks bleached white by time 
 and the weather, were the only scenery, and 
 were now approaching a trifling hamlet, to 
 which the more fertile land gently sloped, when 
 a wild cry came on their ears, and presently 
 a funeral procession, formed by a great con- 
 course of country people of both sexes appeared 
 in view. As the mournful crowd drew near, 
 the Serjeant halted his men in the centre of the 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 213 
 
 road, closed his files, got the prisoners in the 
 midst, and, only recommending all forbearance 
 of insult, thus remained to let it pass. 
 
 " D — n my eyes. Jack," said one of the men 
 to his comrade ; " but them "ere women howls 
 confoundedly after the dead fellor." 
 
 " Curse, me, aye," replied his comrade, " 'tis 
 a noise might scare Neddy, here, from his 
 corn." 
 
 •' Oye, that 'twould," observed another, a 
 Yorkshire giant, leaning forward on the pum- 
 mel of his saddle to join in the conversation in 
 front ; " 'tis the Hoirish cry, as 'em calls it, 
 what such loike woild Hoirish always howls, 
 dom 'em." 
 
 " Demme, though," cried a cockney, " if 
 them 'ere vimen, what are arter the coffin, ben't 
 on a lark, like, east-why, they don't come down 
 a tear, for all they clap hands, and hollar, the 
 velps, their d — d gibberish, what none under- 
 stands but themselves," 
 
 " Whey, noa, mon," rejoined the third 
 speaker, " 'em doant care a curse for dead 
 choap, for all their outlondish bawling ; and " 
 
 " Chise ! Chise!"* roared out a number of 
 stentorian voices, that made their horses bound 
 * Down ! down ! 
 
214 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 under their riders ; the coffin was dashed down ; 
 the crowd closed and sprung on the dragoons 
 as they passed by, and, in the twinkling of an 
 eye, every soldier was unsaddled and disarmed, 
 and the prisoners, with grand and deafening 
 acclaim, set at liberty. The matter had been 
 altogether so unexpected, and so electric, that 
 no precautions could have been taken ; and the 
 military were not yet recovered from their sur- 
 prise, when the man who had given the first 
 signal-word, with a face of laughing raillery, 
 addressed them. 
 
 " Arrah, then, may be that wasn't as nate a 
 thrick, an' as nately done, as ever you seen in 
 your lifes, afore ? Myself 'ud a'most sware 
 you'll be for killin' all the corpses you meet on 
 your road, from this day ; an' faith you may as 
 well biggin now," pointing to the coffin that lay 
 on the ground, of which the lid had fallen off, 
 and allowed a parcel of large stones to trundle 
 about ; " bud, my darlin' red coats, as our work 
 is done, we wants no more ; no hm-t or harm 
 is intended to a sowl among ye : though, to be 
 sure, 'twould be no great bones to do id, wid 
 your own purty firelocks, too," glancing at the po- 
 lished barrel of the carbine he held in his hands ; 
 "bud, up on your horses, an' go your ways; 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK, 215 
 
 you know you can say you just dropt your 
 prisoners on the road — an' so you did faith, like 
 a hot phato, when you couldn't hould 'em — an' 
 don't know what the duoul come o' them, an' 
 that 'ill be no lie for you." 
 
 " Brave fellows/' cried the serjeant, " for 
 brave you are to attempt and succeed in an 
 action, such as you truly say we have never 
 seen equalled, and generous fellows, too, to give 
 us life and liberty, when we least expected either 
 — brave and generous men, listen to me. You 
 say no harm is intended us ; but to send us to 
 our quarters without our swords or carbines 
 would be the heaviest injury you could inflict ; 
 we should all be tried and punished for coward- 
 ice ; I should be turned into the ranks ; these 
 poor fellows tied up to the triangle, and half 
 lashed to death ; in short, you ruin us, if you 
 keep our arms. I propose a treaty. Discharge 
 our carbines with your own hands, and then let us 
 have them back, when we cannot further use 
 them to your annoyance ; and, as for the swords, 
 we shall each of us swear on his own, as you 
 restore them, instantly to put them in our 
 sheaths, and ride off without drawing them : 
 by the faith and honor of soldiers, and of men 
 we shall !" 
 
216 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 " It 'ud be too bad on the poor cratures not 
 to listen to 'em, " said the leader to his compa- 
 nions. 
 
 " Faith, an' it would," said another. ■ 
 
 " An' they so mooch in arnest, an' promisin' 
 so well," said two or three more. 
 
 *' We are not your enemies," resumed the 
 Serjeant, seeing them waver, " but Enghsh sol- 
 diers, come into your country as brothers, and 
 only doing, as soldiers, a disagreeable duty ; be- 
 sides, you have bound us to you in gratitude for 
 ever, and treachery, even if it was in our power, 
 would be impossible.'' 
 
 " Arrah, we'll gi' them the arms," now burst 
 from the whole crowd. 
 
 " Stop," said Pierce, advancing : " it is my 
 duty, as this rescue has been undertaken for my 
 advantage, to see that no evil grows out of it to 
 my unknown friends ; so, let the carbines be 
 first discharged ;" his commands were obeyed ; 
 "and now, serjeant, you will prove your sin- 
 cerity by handing us your cartridge-pouches ;" 
 the Serjeant readily complied ; Pierce emptied 
 them, separately, and returned them, together 
 with the carbines and swords, which latter were, 
 according to treaty, at once sheathed, while the 
 dragoons remained still dismounted. The mi- 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 217 
 
 litary party, with many professions of thanks, 
 then gained their saddles, superfluously assisted 
 by their new friends, who zealously opened to 
 give free passage ; and their miserable throats 
 were also opened for a parting shout, when the 
 Serjeant, wheeling his troop round, gave the 
 word, " Soldiers, fire !" — The pistols hidden in 
 the holsters had been, by one party, forgotten, 
 and were instantly discharged ; every ball took 
 effect, and fifteen men fell. 
 
 " Follow me, now lads !" — the Serjeant conti- 
 nued, dashing spurs into his horse, and plunging 
 forward amid the throng, his horse's head 
 pointed towards his quarters : three file closely 
 followed him, and he and they cut through the 
 dense crowd, who had not yet recovered breath 
 or action from this sudden change of affairs : 
 but on the remainder of the troop they closed 
 in an instant after, with frantic cries and ges- 
 tures of desperation and revenge. 
 
 The dragoons, thus surrounded, at first spurred 
 and spurred to free themselves ; but the out- 
 ward circles of the country people pressed on 
 those within, so that the horses stool wedged 
 and powerless. A. second volley from the 
 holster-pistols then immediately followed, with 
 effect as deadly as the former, and louder and 
 
 VOL. I. h 
 
218 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 louder, and fiercer and fiercer, grew the shouts 
 and efforts for vengeance. The wretched people 
 were unprovided with any weapons except 
 sticks, but they were furious as bulls, and active 
 and ferocious as tigers ; some grappled the 
 reins of the horses, and others dragged the 
 riders to the ground ; though cut and hacked 
 with the sabres that were still available, and 
 trodden and trampled under the prancing feet 
 of the affrighted animals, or themselves treading 
 and trampling on the bodies of their dead com- 
 panions, they did not flinch a jot ; while their 
 antagonists, unable to act in a party, every mo- 
 ment found their single bravery useless, or 
 overpowered by repeated and ceaseless onsets. 
 One man among the peasantry bounced up be- 
 hind a dragoon, clasped him in his arms, and 
 both tumbled to the earth ; in an instant he was 
 on his legs again, jumped on the breast of his 
 prostrate enemy, wrenched the sword from his 
 grasp, forced it through his temples, and, emit- 
 ting a shrill cry that was heard above all the 
 other clamour, then waved it aloft, and with 
 the rifled weapon proceeded to inflict deep 
 and indiscriminate wounds on men and horses, 
 vmtil one well-aimed thrust brought him down, 
 and he was crushed beneath the hoofs of the 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 219 
 
 chargers. A goaded horse, unable to plunge 
 forward, reared up and fell on his haunches, 
 and the ill-fated rider was instantly deprived of 
 life by the crowd that, bounding into the air, 
 leaped and danced upon him. He who at the 
 first commencement of the affair had acted as 
 leader, laid hold of one of the poles of the 
 mock bier, and with it much annoyed the sol- 
 diers ; a sabre reached him in the abdomen ; 
 he snatched a handkerchief from a woman's 
 neck, bound it round the ghastly wound, and, 
 darting forward on his assaulter, grappled with 
 him till the dragoon was lifeless, and, the hand- 
 kerchief giving way, his own intestines burst 
 from his body, with the exertion. While all 
 this went on, frantic women lined the fences at 
 either side of the road, and with terrible out- 
 cries of fear and encouragement, prayers for 
 their friends and curses for their enemies, clap- 
 ping of hands and tearing of their hair, added 
 to the already deafening yell of the combatants; 
 to their shouts of savage onset, or savage 
 triumph, and the groans or shrieking of the 
 wounded. 
 
 This bloody scene was enacted in little more 
 than a minute. In fact, the Serjeant and the 
 three men who had at first broken through the 
 
 l2 
 
220 CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK:. 
 
 crowd with him, after discovering that they were 
 galloping- along on their road homeward, scarcely 
 had time to face about again to the relief of 
 their eleven comrades, and to re-approach the 
 outward lines of the infuriated crowd, when 
 those eleven were reduced to one. From their 
 elevation above the heads of the assailants they 
 were then able to form a pretty correct opinion 
 of how matters stood. They had not yet dis- 
 charged their second pistols, but, after a mo- 
 ment's pause of indignation, did so, and, as 
 before, every shot told. The wildest cry that 
 had yet been heard arose, a number of voices 
 exclaiming, together, as the dragoons followed 
 up their volley with a furious charge — "Make 
 way, boys, and let them in !" — The crowd ac- 
 cordingly divided. This was what the seijeant 
 had wished and tempted ; he fell back with his 
 little party, and cried out, 
 
 " Fly, comrades ! retreat, retreat !" 
 The single survivor rushed pale and bloody 
 through the human gap, escaping many missiles 
 aimed at him by the baffled people, and — 
 
 " Away, Serjeant, away !" he shouted, striking 
 for one push at life, the sides of his snorting 
 steed. 
 
GROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 221 
 
 "Where are the rest?" asked the Serjeant, — 
 " why do they lag behind?" 
 
 "They can't help it," answered the rescued, 
 and, till that moment, despairing man, spurring 
 past them, — '* nor we either — on, on !" 
 
 " Is it so?" resumed the serjeant; 'Met us 
 ride, then !" — and all instantly gallopped off at 
 their horses' utmost speed, a mingled roar of 
 disappointment, rage, and triumph, following 
 them for the short time they remained in view. 
 
 It would be setting up a claim for more of 
 mildness than generally belongs to humanity, 
 or perhaps expose him to the charge of pusilla- 
 nimity in the opinion of aovue of our readers, 
 were we to represent Pierce Shea as an inactive 
 spectator of this affair : and our regard for 
 facts is too strong not to acknowledge, that 
 with the dragoon's sword, on which he now 
 leaned, panting for breath, he had evinced, 
 during the desperate struggle, a revengeful 
 sense of, to his apprehension, the cruel treachery 
 practised on his too credulous friends. The 
 yetuncalmed passions of those around him were 
 for some time indulged in undiminished uproar 
 and confusion of sounds; some loudly rehearsed 
 their exploits, or exultingly exhibited their 
 wounds, or, brandishing the arms of their foes, 
 
222 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 told of what they would have done ; the shouts 
 of victory, or the boisterous congratulations of 
 triumph, were sent forth; or the ferocity of un- 
 satiated vengeance was exhibited by a few, who, 
 with mad curses and imprecations, ran to trample 
 or hack anew the slaughtered dragoons and 
 horses. But dearly were that day's vengeance 
 and triumph bought; upwards of thirty pea- 
 sants lay dead on the mountain road, and near 
 a dozen more were wounded. And then was 
 heard the scream of women as they rushed from 
 body to body, recognizing a husband or brother 
 among the slain or dying ; or, what rings more 
 awfully and terrifically on the ear, the rough 
 commanding voice of men, changed to weak- 
 ness and lamentation, as they, too, knelt in 
 sorrow over the corse of a father, a brother, or 
 a son. 
 
 The scene that now surrounded him, together 
 with all his late adventures, might well seem 
 to Pierce, as he stood gazing around him, ex- 
 hausted and scarce able to exert his judgment 
 or recollections, but the confusion of a terrific 
 dream ; and his thoughts were yet uncollected, 
 when a body that had hitherto lain as if lifeless, 
 stirred at his feet, and a faint voice, not unfa- 
 miliar to his ear, pronounced his name. Shocked 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 223 
 
 and thrown off his guard, he started aside, 
 and then fixed his staring eyes on Terence 
 Delany. There was a long and deep cut across 
 the wretch's temple, and the blood flowed in a- 
 now thickened stream over his cheek, neck, and 
 bosom. Pierce knelt, and endeavoured to raise 
 him, but the gasping voice, that came at in- 
 tervals, requested his forbearance ; he spoke, as 
 usual, in Irish. " No, son of the Sheas, dis- 
 turb me not, if you wish to leave my dying mo- 
 ments free for what I have to say ; I am almost 
 dead ; promise to fulfil my last prayer." 
 
 " I do promise before God." 
 
 " Here, then, untie this" — pointing with his 
 feeble finger to his bloody shirt, where Shea 
 found a few shillings carefully secured by a 
 thread — ''you must take that to my mother 
 and now the only mother of my children — I 
 begged it for them since we parted ; you will 
 find them all, not far from this, in a ruined 
 barn, near to the blackened walls of Murtoch 
 Maher's house ; lead her to my corpse ; and tell 
 her I died wishing for her blessing ; and bless- 
 ing, though they are not here with me, her son's 
 children — and — " his voice grew for a moment 
 stronger, his glassy eye lit up, and he was 
 able to raise his clenched hand and braced arm 
 
224 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 as he added, — " tell her, too, I died with the 
 traitors' blood upon me — " he sunk down, and 
 Pierce thought he was dead ; but soon after he 
 again opened his eyes, and without motion re- 
 sumed : 
 
 "I am going to meet yon, Ailleen, wife of my 
 heart ; yes, the pulse of my heart you were, 
 when it was young and joyful ; and, when it 
 grew black and sorrowful, still you were its 
 darling ; you might have been rich, but yoii 
 were poor with Terence — oh ! tell my mother, 
 young man, to be kind to poor Ailleen's chil- 
 dren ;" — a rapid convulsion passed over his face, 
 'his limbs unconsciously quivered, and the black 
 blood gushed fresher from his death- wound, in 
 consequence of a. violent effort he made to grasp 
 Pierce's arm, as, with unwinking eyes rivetted on 
 him, he just had time to say — 
 
 " You saved me from the crime of murder — • 
 I owe it to you that, now as I go to face my 
 Maker, I have not that red sin on my soul — 
 and I would requite you. — First, I pray that 
 your young days may be full of joy, that your 
 beloved may be like my Ailleen, and that your 
 children, and your children's children, may rise 
 up to be a comfort to you — and — and — " the 
 last words were scarcely audible or intelligible — » 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 225 
 
 " listen, and do not move me — listen with your 
 soul — an enemy is close upon you — put no 
 
 trust " he stretched out his gaunt limbs, 
 
 and died. 
 
 The tears streamed down Pierce's cheeks ; 
 general carnage does not start a tear, when a 
 particular misery, like this, will unlock the 
 sluices of human feeling. With the assistance 
 of two women he bore the body to the village, 
 where, in a spacious barn, the corses of those 
 whose homes were not near were " laid out" in 
 ghastly array, but with all reverence and de- 
 cency : and, as Pierce Shea was most anxious 
 to be at his father's house, he lost no time in 
 first fulfilling the sad request of the dying man, 
 and therefore quickly turned his feet towards 
 the place where, by poor Terence's description, 
 he might expect to find his helpless survivors. 
 It may not be out of course here to remark, that 
 if the language uttered by Terence Delany ap- 
 pear too refined for one in his situation of life, 
 it is ascertainable as only in strict unison with 
 the genius and idiom of the language in which 
 he spoke, and from which we have Uterally 
 translated ; in the Irish, there is nothing of 
 what is known by the name of vulgarism ; its 
 construction even in the mouths of the pea- 
 
 L 3 
 
226 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK, 
 
 saritry, who to this day use it, has been and can 
 ba l)ut little corrupted ; nor could the familiar 
 colloquy of the meanest among them be ren- 
 dered, in English, into common-place or slang. 
 
 Inquiring his way to Murtock Maher's barn, 
 Pierce found the place was on his nearest way 
 homeward. A destructive fire had, some time 
 previously, consumed the dwelling of a wealthy 
 farmer ; from a contiguous barn part of the 
 thatch roof had, to prevent the spi'eading of the 
 flame, been torn; one end was yet covered, 
 but through the other end rain and storm found 
 free admission ; — and this was the comfortless 
 dwelling of Moya Delany and her thre^ grand- 
 children. 
 
 Pierce soon came on the desolate group. The 
 old woman, of unusual height, and bearing in 
 her mien and features a strong likeness to her 
 deceased son, stood erect, with her back to the 
 entrance, as he approached, the youngest child 
 asleep in her withered bosom, and the other 
 two hungrily watching a few potatoes, that were 
 roasting in the white ashes of a fire made on the 
 floor with green furze. Till the moment of his 
 entering, Shea had not sufiiciently reflected on 
 the difliculties of his mission, and now felt pain- 
 fully at a loss how to convey the dismal tidings 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 227 
 
 he bore. The old woman had not perceived his 
 entrance, and he stood behind her for some mo- 
 ments, ere his " Dieu-a-uth" startled her as if 
 from a trance. Turning quickly round, she then 
 stared at him in silence, neither uttering another 
 word. At last she spoke in a firm, though 
 mournful voice, and the following dialogue 
 ensued in Irish : 
 
 " My heart is sorry, young gentleman, that I 
 cannot offer you a seat in this poor place." 
 
 "There is no necessity, good woman:" and 
 his throat choked up, as he looked around ; — 
 " I have only a message from your son." 
 
 She advanced, and fixed her eyes upon him, 
 
 " My son ? — and what tidings from my son ? 
 — I did not see him last night, but my dreams 
 were with Terence ; — your face frightens me, 
 young man ; tell your errand." 
 
 " My face ought to shew the sorrow of my 
 heart," said Pierce, in a broken accent, handing 
 the little legacy. 
 
 " God of glory! — I dreamt I sat by his corse 
 — and this moment I was looking at his coflfin 
 in the fire ;" — she caught his arm, and gazed 
 more wildly and keenly into his eyes ; — " my 
 son is dead ! — aye, and here is blood upon you, 
 and you are his murderer." 
 
228 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. * 
 
 "A merciful heaven forbid !" — 
 
 "But he is g-one from the old mother, and 
 the little orphans ?" — This was asked in a tone 
 of the deepest misery, whilst her own tears now 
 came fast. 
 
 " Christ have pity on you !" was Pierce Shea's 
 only answer, while he covered his face with his 
 hands. 
 
 She was stupified, but did not fall. Then 
 she wept plentifully, but without loud lament. 
 She sat and called the children around her, and 
 told them they had no father, now ; at the same 
 time pressing-, with one arm, until it screamed, 
 the infant that lay on her breast, and with the 
 other encircling the two elder ones, whose 
 piercing cries arose, as they clung to her tat- 
 tered but clean vesture. After some time she 
 desired Pierce to relate the manner of her son's 
 death ; and as he went on, rage, revenge, and, 
 when he had uttered the last part of Terence's 
 dying message, triumph flushed her face, and 
 dried the tears on her cheeks ; and the widowed 
 and childless old woman asked, in a stern 
 voice — 
 
 " He died with the blood of the traitors upon 
 him V 
 
 '' He did — I saw it wet upon his hands." 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 229 
 
 " Then he died as I would have him die," 
 she resumed, rising up, ''and no tear shall ever 
 more drop from his mother's eye, to wet the 
 early grave of Terence Delany :" — Pierce saw 
 her, with astonishment, catch up a wooden 
 vessel full of water, and extinguish the embers 
 of the fire ; and then she took the second-eldest 
 child by the hand, motioned the other to the 
 entrance, and, with the youngest still held on 
 one arm, added, in a tone, more of command 
 than of entreaty, " Lead me to my son's corpse; 
 it must be stretched, and watched, and buried, 
 and those he has left behind him must sit at its 
 head." 
 
 Thus admonished, and under such afflicting 
 circumstances, Pierce, notwithstanding his own 
 anxiety to get home, could not hesitate to com- 
 ply ; so, taking the infant from the old woman's 
 arms, he led the way ; she, with a firm step and 
 the two other grandchildren held each by the 
 hand, silently following. 
 
 It was known that Terence Delany had no 
 home ; and when they arrived at the barn in 
 which, as we before noticed, his body was " laid 
 out," they found that all the usual attentions 
 had been bestowed upon it. The mother walked 
 straight up to his bier, only casting a few rapid 
 
230 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 glances, at each side, on the other corpses that 
 Uned her way; she stood erect for a moment 
 over the silent features of her only son ; then 
 slowly stooped, and kissed his lips ; and at last, 
 bursting into an irregular and dismal song, ut- 
 tered, in many an unequal dhass, or verse, his 
 keenthecaun. 
 
 " I nursed you at my breast ; I baked your 
 marriage cake ; I sit at your head — Ullah ! 
 
 " I gave you my milk ; I fed you with my 
 heart's blood ; I look upon yours. 
 
 " I rocked your cradle ; I nursed your child- 
 x'en ; I must follow in your funeral. 
 
 "Your children are about me; I see my 
 child's children ! but I see not my child. 
 
 " I remember your face in youth ; its bright- 
 ness was naanly like the sun's ; it made daylight 
 round about me. 
 
 " I remember your form in the dance ; and 
 strong was your arm when you wrestled with 
 the young men; none was like my son to me. 
 
 " And none was like him to his own Ailleen, 
 the wife of his bosom : Ailleen, with the blue 
 eyes, and the yellow hair ; her children look at 
 me with her eyes. 
 
 " Many strove for Ailleen : but she left her 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 231 
 
 father's riches to share your cabin ; she chose 
 you above all : she was your bride. 
 
 " Ailleen was beautiful and good ; you loved 
 one another ; and my heart laughed to see you 
 in your own house ; the old mother's heart, sit- 
 ting by your fire. 
 
 " And all your days were pleasant till the de- 
 stroyer came ; then your young cheeks grew 
 pale, and the light left your eyes, and I laughed 
 no more. 
 
 *' Ruin blackened your youth, and made your 
 hearts old too soon, and ended your days : 
 Ailleen died first ; you see her now where she 
 is ; tell Ailleen your mother loves her. 
 
 " I am left alone ; and the little children of 
 Ailleen have no father. 
 
 " But I weep not for you now ; you fell re- 
 venging yourself on our enemies ; the blood of 
 the traitors shall alone nourish the green grass 
 on your grave. 
 
 " I nursed you at my breast ; I baked your 
 marriage cake ; I sit at your head ! — Ullah !" 
 
232 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The blast fumed and blustered through the bare 
 fence, and through the leafless orchard, and the 
 pelting hailstones drove adown the gaping-wide- 
 open and perfectly straight chimney of old Ned 
 Shea's kitchen, and fizzed in the roaring turf 
 fire before which our friend, Andy Houlohan, 
 and a new acquaintance, whom we beg to in- 
 troduce by the dangerous name of Bridge 
 Chree, or Bridget Heart, were seated, en- 
 joying their tete-ti-tete in the sense for which 
 that term was at first invented ; for Andy and 
 Bridge were, as a lapidary would say, lovers of 
 the first water, or, in their own idiom, and pretty 
 much in the same words, "jewels at the busi- 
 ness." 
 
 " Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, «Sii:c.," 
 in humble prose, is a most unconscionable ty- 
 rant ; his ambition expanded as the earth ; and 
 from the monarch of many nations to the lowly 
 proprietor, nay, to the drudge of the lowliest 
 cot, making all bow before his empire. He 
 
CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 233 
 
 fetters the free, and upon the slave casts addi- 
 tional bondage ; he humanizes the savage, sub- 
 dues the bravo, and, haply, makes the covrard 
 valiant. Now is he presiding deity of the gor- 
 geous palace, where delicious music and balmy 
 perfumes mingle in the flattered air; where 
 costly viands and sparkling wines eke out the 
 banquet ; where downy couches tempt his lan- 
 guid limbs to dalliance or repose ; and where 
 beauty, made awful by rank and dazzling attire, 
 lavishes upon him her ambrosial sighs and god- 
 dess-smiles to tempt his eternal sojourn ; yet 
 anon we trace him to the smoky kitchen, clothed 
 in a suit of clumzy frieze, peeling the humble 
 potato with divine little thumb-nail ; and his 
 witching little mouth surrounded by a white 
 circle, that has remained on it since his last 
 hearty draught of acid buttermilk : with the 
 cricket's chirp, or the kitten's pur, his only 
 music ; with a rush for a chandeleir, or galaxy 
 of argands ; with a three legged stool for his 
 only lounger, and the unpretending Bridge 
 Chree for his inspiration. 
 
 We could follow the mischief-doing urchin 
 into many a stranger scene ; we could unmask 
 his various disguises, and the endless arts to 
 which he has recourse to spread his universal 
 
234 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 sway ; but having brought him to our present 
 sphere (iu which, for our lawful purposes, we 
 have ourselves seen him, and here pledge our 
 veracity to the fact, but would not that our 
 fair and gentle readers should quarrel with him 
 for his mean versatility ; and we think we may 
 add, in an " aside," of this there is no danger;) 
 having shown, we say, that, in his thirst for 
 universal dominion, he deigns to visit such hum- 
 ble folk as are of our acquaintance, we shall 
 follow his vagaries no farther, lest, as the imp is 
 spiteful, he might turn on us iu revenge for our 
 expose, and incapacitate us for our task of 
 grave historians. 
 
 No matter how homely their place of wel- 
 come, the wide world did not supply him with 
 a heartier one than did Andy and Bridge. It 
 could not be said that the perishable thing 
 called beauty had, on either side, been accessory 
 to their mutual attachment ; they had no fear 
 that they should cease to love as soon as they 
 should grow ugly ; but, as their passion was 
 derived from what could not change or decay, 
 it was more likely to be constant and durable, 
 and well fitted for the " wear and tear" of life." 
 
 Among his compeers, Andy went by the title 
 or surname-of " Andy Awling," or airy Andrew, 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 235 
 
 a term significant of a certain irresistible heed- 
 lessness of action and manner, thought and 
 speech, by which he was distinguished, and 
 appUcable, indeed, as well to his outward as to 
 his inward man. Never did matter mould itself 
 to mind more agreeably than in the form and 
 face of Andy. Tall, square, slight, loose, and 
 bony, he seemed to have been put together 
 carelessly, or by chance ; looking like a bold 
 yet imperfect sketch of a big fellow ; and his 
 swarthy visage, entirely devoid of flesh, with 
 the skin fitting tight to his high cheek-bones, 
 and with its mixed expression of good-humour, 
 foolishness, fidget, and subtlety, was in keeping 
 with this figure. Even his clothes hung around 
 him at odds and ends, as if they had been 
 tossed on with a pitchfork ; and his hat, that part 
 of every man's costume, in its shape and adjust- 
 ment most redolent of character, was sometimes 
 pushed back to the very last holding-point of his 
 skull, sometimes dragged down into his eyes, and 
 sometimes only half covering his head, just 
 as the head happened to be humourously, grave- 
 ly, or rakishly inclined : winter and summer he 
 wore, in common with almost every man around 
 him, a mighty outside blue coat, that fell from 
 his shoulders, pinioned his arms, and trailed in 
 
236 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 the puddle or dust ; the kness of his inexpres- 
 sibles always swung wide open, as did his shirt- 
 collar, and, all but one or two buttons, his vest, so 
 that the vision of a black hairy chest was seen in 
 all weathers ; and his stockings, festooning down 
 to his brogues, generally left his legs half naked. 
 
 But then we have seen that he was the most 
 loving and faithful creature under the sun ; to all 
 (except when fighting at fairs or patterns) good- 
 natured ; and, above all, possessed of a quaUty 
 in high esteem with the weaker sex, of every 
 degree, that is, utter fearlessness of danger or 
 death in mortal combat. It was Andy's cou- 
 rage and prowess, in fact, that first recommended 
 him to Bridge Chree ; and, in the manner fol- 
 lowing, we love to rehearse the story. * 
 
 Paudge Dermody, whose name the reader 
 will recollect, was a little of the rustic petit- 
 maitre, making advances, through sheer vanity, 
 to every girl he met, and, to own the truth, and 
 giving due honour to his mastership in the art of 
 love, many were Paudge's conquests ; but he 
 boasted of the favours he received, nay, equally 
 vain of his wit, often amused his companions as 
 well by his own folly as at the expense of those 
 he set a sighing. Among the rest. Bridge Chree 
 was distinguished by his flattering atten- 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 237 
 
 tions ; and one evening, while sitting with some 
 friends over a cup of ale, Paudge heard the 
 name mentioned, as the most recent of his con- 
 quests; but he seemed only half willing to admit 
 the honour of having vanquished poor Bridge ; 
 swore a raking oath that she was an ugly jade, 
 by far too humble for his notice ; and "she had 
 crooked legs, made after the ould Munsther 
 fashion, wid the wrong ends down," he said, 
 " an' she squinted worse nor a dog lookin' at 
 the edge of a rapin'-hook." 
 
 " Why then may this dhrink be my pison," 
 observed Andy Awling, who did not relish the 
 slight cast on a fellow-servant of his own, living 
 in the same house with him, '* bud Bridge Chree 
 has two as good eyes as ever looked sthraight 
 afore 'em ;" (although he said this, he knew in his 
 heart there was more gallantry than truth in the 
 assertion), " an' as for the bits o' legs, I'll be 
 bould to say I can spake about 'em, the same, 
 afther a manner, as if they were my own, case 
 why, walkin' about undherthe one roof wid 'em, 
 I seen 'em farther up, an' oftener nor yourself, 
 Paudge Dermody ;" we again interrupt our 
 knight, and we do so for the sake of the fair one 
 whose cause he may be supposed to advocate 
 rather injudiciously, for in truth she was a modest 
 
238 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 creature enough, and we can aver, whatever 
 innocent bungling Andy is here guilty of, that 
 he never had a glimpse much beyond the ankles ; 
 " an' I'd swear down upon the spot, this pre- 
 sent moment, they're as even, all the way, up 
 an' down, as the blessed kippin in my hand." 
 The comparison held, whatever was his autho- 
 rity, for the stick alluded to might well repre- 
 sent the identical legs in question ; "so my 
 nate boucJial, you must just say your words 
 backwards, as your master (you know who I 
 mane) says his prayers, or by the sowl o' my 
 father, God rest him, you'll s5up sorrow afore 
 you leave the place," 
 
 But Paudge Dermody was a fellow. of too 
 much mettle to be thus forced into an acknow- 
 ledgment of excellence that all the world knew 
 did not exist; he therefore demurred to Andy's 
 dictation, who not only at once proceeded to 
 put into execution his threat against the real 
 offender, but, while his hand was in, he fairly 
 drubbed out of the room two others who were 
 in company, and who had said no word against 
 the fair cause of quarrel, nor in any other way 
 provoked such treatment ; so, by the success of 
 her champion, and the laws of chivalry, Bridge 
 Chree's eyes squinted not, neither were her 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 239 
 
 legs crooked, nor did they taper in any unusual 
 manner. 
 - Fame, who delights in publishing deeds of 
 valour, soon conveyed to the ears of the vindi- 
 cated damsel the tidings of this battle, and her 
 smiles, and her fuss about many little matters 
 that appertained to Andy's household comforts, 
 together with whispers in his ear when all were 
 assembled round the kitchen fire, after work, 
 fully evinced her gratitude. 
 
 " She was mooch behouldin' to him, for 
 standin' up for a poor gii'l that had no one else 
 to take her part, God help her :" and Andy 
 answered, 
 
 " Don't spake iv id, ma colleen-beg, the spris- 
 saun wasn't able to rightify his words, an' I'd do 
 the same by the Theage, there," meaning a 
 mastiff that slept by the fire, " or any creature 
 under Ned Shea's roof, not to talk of you." 
 
 This reply, though it rather seemed to take 
 away any personal compliment from his services, 
 did not lessen the poor girl's gratitude ; and she 
 forthwith commenced a series of attentions and 
 kindnesses, that gradually won on Andy's va- 
 nity, drew his regard, his thanks, and at last 
 his love. Bridge had a draught for him, of a 
 morning, when he met her after milking the 
 
240 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 COWS ; she was never without the means of " a 
 treat," at fair or pattern ; she bought him a pair 
 of red garters, as a keepsake, and tied them on 
 with her own hands ; and Andy wore them for 
 the better part of one day, but we take shame 
 to ourselves on his account to acknowledge 
 that on the next day they were thrown by, as 
 too cumbrous about his knees, and calculated to 
 give cold by keeping the stockings tied up, "in 
 a way he wasn't used to." On the road to a 
 dance — (Andy was "the divil at dancing," and 
 so, in truth, was Bridge Chree, that is, they 
 wrought laboriously at it, and could hold out a 
 day and night), he, in consequence of all this, 
 boldly told bis love, and flourishing over her 
 head the very stick to which she was so much 
 indebted, and which shared a portion of the 
 esteem she bore its owner, used to say, " he 
 was taken' wid her more nor wid the varsal 
 world besides, always barrin' Pierce Shea, an' 
 the mother that bore him ; an' ready an' willin' 
 he was to slash half the parish for any of their 
 sakes ; to which tender declaration, she as usu- 
 ally answered, " there was no love lost;" and 
 thus did matters stand on the night of which we 
 at present find it necessary to speak. 
 
 But in spite of the trial combat, the criticism 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 241 
 
 of Paudge Dermody on Bridget Heart was not 
 altogether malicious. She was Andy's nega- 
 tive, and perhaps this might be one cause of 
 his subjugation, if mankind, as it is asserted, 
 always undervalue what they have, and sigh for 
 what they have not ; he was tall, she was short in 
 the extreme ; he was lean , she was stout — fat ; 
 his face was dun and skinny, hers was rosy, 
 round, and full ; his two eyes stared for ever on 
 before him : the pupil of her left one rested 
 plump against the wall of her nose (but it is 
 doubtful if, in love affairs, this be not an ad- 
 vantage, as the proprietor of such an eye can give 
 a more lengthened ogle from one corner to the 
 other, whereas a person having the pupil exactly 
 in the middle of the ball must perforin the 
 same evolution by two distinct movements, 
 for which reason the effect is seen to be less 
 powerful ; and besides the former individual 
 can, if of the bashful sex, look, amid a room 
 full of people, full at her lover, while all present 
 shall think her regards are fixed on the wall, or 
 on the lady at the far corner of the table) ; she 
 waddled in her gait, her legs being indeed 
 bowed ; but then she had red, rich lips, a little 
 large, and ever smiling ; teeth, regular as those 
 of a comb, and white as ivory ; and her eyes, even 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
242 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 that to which so much allusion has been made, 
 were black and sparkling. Thus outwardly 
 constructed, Andy and his mistress were in- 
 wardly similar, both being simple, gay, and 
 affectionate. 
 
 They sat, as some pages back we have said, 
 before the blazing fire, which it had been 
 Bridge Chree's care to heap up, after all the 
 other members of her master's family had re- 
 tired to bed. How close they sat, we are not 
 bound to declare ; and, indeed, when as vera- 
 cious compilers of our history we are admitted 
 as witnesses where others would be unwelcome, 
 we dislike to reveal all we see and hear ; some 
 prefatory placing, and disposing, and employing 
 of their persons, must therefore be passed over ; 
 as also much of their conversation, until we 
 arrive at that part of it which it is necessary 
 the reader should know ; and, in this case, it 
 is plain he must be content with what we choose, 
 or, after due reflection, deem advisable to 
 give him ; seeing we might keep it all to our- 
 selves, were we so inclined, or did it suit our 
 purposes. 
 
 " Musha, hould up your own likely face, now, 
 a hudgeen-ma-chree," said Andy, Bridge having 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 243 
 
 dropped it on her breast, at something in the 
 previous course of the conversation. 
 
 "Andy, Andy, wasn't id a cryin' shame fur 
 you to make sich a vow as that?" 
 
 " Ma colleen-beg, mysef 'ud have no comfort 
 in the married state, when I'd see our poor 
 Pierce sorrowin' fur the want iv a wife." 
 
 " An' so you went to make a vow afore God, 
 that you'd never do id, for yousef, till his wed- 
 din' night ?" 
 
 " Aye, a-roon ; becase I was so knocked iv a 
 lump, at all his moanin' an' sorrowin' that I'd 
 amost sware, if he went an' got a suggan, and 
 put id round his neck, the Lord keep us frum 
 temptation, I'd just do the same thing along wid 
 him." 
 
 " An' here was I, getherin' for id, an' scrapin' 
 fur id, this penny and that penny, and puttin' 
 odds and ends together, all to no good." 
 
 " Och, then, my darlin' is id cryin' you are ? 
 Don't now, a-cuishla, don't." 
 
 " Oh, Andy, an' afther you cum round me, in 
 the way you did, an' made me so sure iv id." 
 
 " Well, Bridge, honey ." 
 
 '* It's thrue enough what the poor misthress 
 says ; the boys, God mend 'em, says she is 
 all rogues : Anasthause an' myself used to 
 
 M 2 
 
244 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 think she'd be only sayin' id to keep us to the 
 work, but it's now, I'm sartin iv id, to my sor- 
 row." 
 
 " Hearken to me, a hudg." 
 " An' what 'ill Peggy Bawn say now, becase 
 she begrudged me sich a clane boy ; he made a 
 vow, my dear, never to marry 'till Pierce Shea 
 'ud be doin' id along wid him ; an' Pierce Shea 
 'ill never lay his eyes on Alley Doolin, while the 
 world is a world, nor never take up wid ano- 
 ther afther her, that's sarten; and so, by coorse, 
 Andy Awling 'ill never marry Bridge Chree — • 
 Och, God forgi' you, Andy, praise be to his 
 name fur all things, it's a grate tbrial you brought 
 on me." 
 
 To gain a certain point with his mistress, 
 Andy had acquainted her with the vow in ques- 
 tion, but seeing her take it to heart more griev- 
 ously than he expected, or, indeed, could bear, 
 he now resolved to patch up the matter. 
 
 " Musha, Bridge, what signifies a small little 
 twelvemonth, afther all ?" 
 
 " A twelvemonth, Andy?" 
 
 " Aye, ^-roon ; sure we'll both live id out, 
 plaise God ; and then may be, some one 'ud 
 shew the misthress how the boys can be loyal 
 as well as the girls ; an' make Peggy Bawn's 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 245 
 
 heart grumble within her, when yoursef an' 
 mysef 'ill take wid one another till death, af- 
 ther the soggarth lays his loocky hands over 
 us, an' I'll kiss my wife, an' you'll kiss your 
 husband, an' that 'ill be mysef that's here to the 
 fore." 
 
 " What is id you mane at all, Andy?" 
 
 " Why, a-cuishla, duv you think I'd be the 
 own shuch, to go an' make a vow, if I hadn't a 
 barrin along wid it ? No, faith ; I'll make a 
 holy vow afore God, says I, an' blessed be 
 your name, sure you well know betther nor I can 
 tell you, that it's as great a penance as I could 
 put on myself, becase Bridge Chree is the 
 darlin' o' my heart, that I'll never marry till my 
 poor Pierce Shea is at the same work wid me ; 
 barrin, says I, agin ; barrin he lets a twelve- 
 month go by, becase I can't wait a day longer 
 fur him." 
 
 " An' why didn't you tell me that afore, An- 
 dyr' 
 
 " Musha, I couldn't get in a word, you war 
 breakin' your heart an' my own, cryin' in sich 
 a way ; bud dhr}?^ up your eyes now, agra" 
 (taking her apron and doing it himself) ; " there 
 now." 
 
 '' Fur sarten, Andy, you're a born rogue." 
 
246 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 " Don't say that ; barrin it's the turn iv a 
 rogTie to be foolish-fond o' you ma-colleen beg-, 
 I dont know any other roguery that's in me." 
 
 " Well, be asy, now, wid yoursef." 
 
 " Mostha, I'm sorry enough to make the vow 
 at all, an' faith, only I have no money, I knows 
 how id could all be brought about sooner nor a 
 twelvemonth, any way." 
 
 " An might a body be axin' you how. An- 
 dy?" 
 
 " Och, it's a quare thing you'd ax, that Andy 
 'ud deny you ; but don't be lookin' straight at 
 me, afther that fashion, or them rogues iv eyes 
 'ill put id all out of my head." 
 
 " Oh, you're a bouchal, Andy ; well : here I'll 
 look up at the bacon." Bridge, to her own 
 conscience and satisfaction, might have kept her 
 word, but an unprejudiced spectator would have 
 sworn she looked far wide of the bacon. "Aye, 
 that 'ill do betther, fur it's a thing umpossible 
 fur a poor boy to think iv any thing bud the 
 girl that owns him, when two sich burnin black 
 eyes is lookin' at him — see there agin, now." 
 
 " You're a coaxin' boy, Andy a-voiirneen." 
 
 " What was I sayin' at all ? but let us feel if 
 your head is on your showlders, a-cuishla." 
 
 " Be asy, Andy, I say agin." 
 
CROHOORli OF THE BILL-HOQR. 247 
 
 "Slaw the Mellish," *" said Andy, smacking 
 bis lips : " Well, Bridge, as I was goin' to say, 
 it's a thing plain to be seen as the handle on ray 
 spade, that all our purshuin' iv Crohoore-na- 
 bilhoge is of no more use than fur me to thry 
 to put the moon in my pocket ; becase all the 
 world knows he has his faction at his back, God 
 bless the hearers, an' no harm meant; and has 
 poor Alley livin' among 'em ; this very blessed 
 day, masther Pierce himself tould me as mooch, 
 afther all his bogglin' ; an' the only way to cum 
 at her is fur mysef to take a short stick in my 
 hand, an' trudge off to Sheeum-na-Sheeog,f 
 that lives up in the hills, in the very thick o* 
 them ,• bud there's no more nor one skillen in 
 my pocket, within, an' he'd do little fur the likes 
 o' that ; an' sorry in my heart I am it isn't God's 
 will I have the thrifle of money, case why, the 
 longer I stay away from Sheeum-na-Sheeog, 
 the longer will Alley stay where she is, and the 
 longer Pierce stay widout her, an' then, agin, 
 the longer we must stay as we are — may be the 
 whole twelvemonth. 
 
 Bridge instantly pulled out a little tin box, 
 whence she drew half a guinea, and slid it into 
 Andy's near hand. 
 
 * It is sweet. t Sheeum — William. 
 
248 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 " Och, you darlin' o' the world, there's not 
 your match from the place where we sit to 
 where the Connaught men cums frum ! — sure, 
 wid this to stick on Sheeum's eye, I'll make him 
 spy out fur us, I'm thinkin'." 
 
 " It's a good notion o' your's, Andy, honey ; 
 bud, our ould masther, here, does'nt give ear to 
 a word about Crohoore an' the good people." 
 
 " Musha, good loock to him, what sort iv a 
 thick head is there on him, at all, then ? — If 
 he war wid us, in our good for nothin' chases 
 after Crohoore, he'd think in another way ; 
 there was the mornin' we cum upon him near 
 the ould castle, didn't I see him wid my two 
 livin' eyes, get sthraddle-legs on his short goon, 
 au' fly over the sthrame, betther nor an ould 
 hare 'ud do id ? sure you're in the knowledge, 
 yoursef, Bridge, that masther Pierce is as good 
 at a lep, as any boy in the counthry round, an' 
 he wasn't able to go half-way ; an' there's not 
 that christhen born 'ud do id, barrin he had 
 other's help ; an' whin we thought to shoot him 
 as dead as dour-nail, war'u't our own goons be- 
 witched, so that the sorrow a spark 'ud lave 
 'em ; whin we went afther him to the cave, 
 wasn't Pierce a dead boy, only fur myself; an' 
 the rid divil Paddy Loughnan, frightened to 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 249 
 
 the back-bone, whatever happened the both in 
 the cave, within ; an' whin he came out among 
 us, all iv a sudd'n, didn't I fire sthraight into his 
 face, an' do him no more hurt nor if I struck 
 him wid a thrawneen?* an' I was nigh hand 
 payin' well fur id ; tumbled about, like a pu- 
 sheen-cat, on the broad o' my back, wid the 
 fairy-blow ; an' God must have a likin' to me, or 
 I was a gone crature." 
 
 "All thrue enough, Andy; an' if the ould 
 masther war afther discoorsin' wid Biddy 
 Grasse, that lives at KnockbuUigeen, she'd let 
 him see whether there war good people in the 
 world, or no." 
 
 " What happened her. Bridge ?" 
 " I'm afeard the story 'ud be a long one." 
 " Och, no, a-roon ; the night's young; an' 
 betther for us be here at this good fire, sayin' 
 to the wind that's widout, blow your best, aboa- 
 chal, nor be perishin' alone by oursefs in our 
 could beds." 
 
 " Well ; hould your hands, now, Andy, an' 
 I'll tell you about Biddy Grasse." 
 
 " I will, a-cuishla ; I'll be a good boy :" they 
 drew their stools — or stool — we disdain to say 
 which — closer to the blaze, and prepared, one 
 * Fairy-weed. 
 
 M 3 
 
250 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 to speak, and the other to listen, with that pe- 
 cuUar pleasure story-telling imparts. 
 
 " Xow, Andy, this is as thrue a story as ever 
 you hard ; I had id frum Biddy's own gossip, 
 an' she had id from Biddy's own mouth. Biddy 
 Grasse had as fine a boy born to her as God 
 ever sent, an' she was doatin' fond iv id, to be 
 sure, becase all the rest o' the childer were 
 girls — " 
 
 " An' good loock to 'em, fur girls, every day 
 they get up ; what 'ud the poor boys do, only 
 God was good enough to send 'em to us ?" 
 
 " None o' your thievin' ways, Andy, an' let 
 me go on." 
 
 " Well, yes.; I'll hould my whisht, agra." 
 
 " The child thruv' well, an' was a pleasure to 
 look at, 'till amost a twelvemonth ould, or there- 
 away ; when all at once, Biddy obsarved it to 
 pine an' pine away, till it war no bigger nor my 
 fist ; an' it used to laugh out in the most sthrange 
 way, an' grin, an' look about id, as cunnin' as a 
 mouse ; an' then bawl and squall, in a minute, 
 agin, in a manner no ways like a christhen 
 child ; an' whin she'd put id to the breast, 
 'twould amost tear her to pieces, an' then make 
 sich faces up to her ; so that the poor crature 
 iv a woman was frightened to look at id. Well ; 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 251 
 
 she thought to wane id, but it wouldn't ate a 
 bit fur her, an' was ever an always wheenin' an' 
 wheenin' from raornin' to night, an' she thought 
 it war goin' to die, sorry in her heart at the 
 same : bud, to the wonder o' the world, it lived 
 on, three months, widout any food that she 
 knew iv, not growing bigger nor less, only just 
 the same way, an' many a weary night she had 
 a-watchin' id. 
 
 " One night she went to her bed, but didn't 
 fall a-sleepin', her mind was so crossed, thinkin' 
 iv her puny child, an' left a rush, lightin' ; an', 
 behould you, Andy, a little while afther, lyin' 
 still an' quite, only her eyes half-open, she sees 
 id sit up straight in the cradle, an' turn about 
 its wizzened face, an' peep here an' there, to 
 see if every body was sleepin' ; and then it gets 
 out on the flure, an' goes over to the hob, where 
 there was a lapreen* iv oaten bread for the 
 next mornin' ; an' it's as thrue as the fire is 
 burnin' afore us, down it squatted on its hun- 
 kers, an' munged an' munged, 'till the whole 
 was gone, all the while lookin' about id, like a 
 cat that 'ud be thievin' : an' then it creeped back 
 agin to the cradle, an' took up its fairy bagpipes, 
 an' played a fairy-tune." 
 
 * Half a cake of bread. 
 
252 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 " Christ save us an' keep us ! but that was 
 frightful, sure enough ;" said Andy, who sat as 
 pale as death. 
 
 " An' sarten you may be, Andy, that poor 
 Biddy was sore afeard, herself; an' now she be- 
 thouglit in her mind, many's the piece of bread 
 she missed for a good while back ; an' many's 
 the time whin her man, an' hersef, an' the girls 
 'ud be out, she cum alone, to the dour, an' hard 
 the wild music within, bud couldn't tell how, 
 well knowin' she left only the child at home. 
 She didn't tell the man o' the house a word iv 
 all this ; he was a conthrary, cross-grained, dark 
 man, an' she thought wid herself he might kill 
 her an' the child : but she went her ways to an 
 ould knowledgable woman, that they called 
 Noseen Branan, in regard o' the nose was on 
 her, bein' no nose at all, fur it fell off in the 
 irost, or a thing that-a-way, an', wid the tears in 
 her eyes, she tould her story; an', sure enough, 
 Noseen guessed how id was, at the first goin'-off ; 
 as you're alive, standin' there, Biddy, says she, 
 that's no more your child nor I am ; och, God 
 be good to me, Noseen, says Biddy, what else is 
 id ; some old man belonging to the good people, 
 says Noseen, agin ; they tuck him away whin 
 he was a child, an' had him among 'em ever 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 253 
 
 sence, married to some o' their women, but now 
 he's too ould to be among em' any longer, an' 
 so they left him in the place o' your fine boy. 
 Och-hone-a-rie, what's to become o' me? says 
 Biddy. Are you a bould woman, fur you must 
 do a bould action, Noseen axed iv Biddy 
 Grasse. I'd do any thing to get back my boy, 
 Biddy made answer. Why, then, you must 
 watch your time, wid a brave heart, an' lay hands 
 on the ould man, an' put him into a bag, an' 
 take him wid you to the river side, and throw 
 him in ; but don't let the heart fail you, or you're 
 a gone woman ; an' be sure you lave him plenty 
 iv oaten bread, an' don't mind his ways, but call 
 him all the coaxin' names you'd call your own 
 child, 'till it's done. 
 
 " Well, Andy :— " 
 
 " Did she lay fingers on him ?" interrupted 
 Andy. 
 
 " Wait 'till you hear ; home she came, an' 
 went to the cradle, an' the child, as id seemed 
 to be, was in id, as if fast asleep ; bud the mo- 
 ment she bent over him, he opened his eyes an' 
 grinned up at her, as mooch as to say, she 
 thought, I knows all how an' about id, an' she 
 hid her face, an' ran to the other side o' the 
 cabin, an' sat down to bring her wits about her. 
 
254 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOR. 
 
 One time she grew afeard to throw him amid 
 the river, thinkin' Noseen might be wrong, an' 
 may be she'd take the life iv her own born child ; 
 but then she bethought her iv all she seen, an' 
 raisoned wid hersef that sure no right child 
 could do the like : an' she went arguin' and 
 pondherin' what coorse to take, an' at last got 
 courage ; so, whin she found him sleepin' in 
 arnest, Biddy slipt him into a nail-bag, tyin' the 
 sthring fast on him ; but while she was tyin' id, 
 he squeeled, an' bawled, an' kicked so hard, 
 that the poor sowl let him dhrop frum her 
 hands, an' hadn't spirit to lift him up agin fur 
 a long while ; an' he worked away 'till he got a 
 bit iv his nose out, an' she hard him givin" a 
 wild curse, — the sheeog, that if he war a chris- 
 then infant could'nt spake a word for months 
 to come ; so this made her sure, an', while he 
 was sthrugglin' an' kickin' in the bag on the 
 flure, down she stooped — " 
 
 " Murther !" cried Andy, knitting his brows, 
 while his teeth chattered, and the cold perspira- 
 tion broke out on his forehead — " oh, by the 
 sowl o' man, I woiildu't put a hand near him fur 
 the king iv England's throne." 
 
 /* Down she stooped, an' in a minute had him 
 on her back, an' away she ran, screechin' hersef. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 255 
 
 to the river, an' there she shook him out o' the 
 bag into the deepest an' maddest part o' the 
 current ; he sunk, an' rose agin, an' as he dhrove 
 down the sthrame, sittin' on it like any thing, 
 Biddy saw he was an' ould little man, sure 
 enough ; an' she just hard him cryin' out — oh ! 
 ma-hurp-ou-duoul ! I'm sorry I didn't do for you 
 last night, as I intinded !" — when she run home, 
 an' there was her own fine boy, lost an' gained, 
 in the cradle afore her." 
 
 " Well," said Andy, relieving himself by a 
 long-drawn breath, " Biddy Grasse was the 
 thruth iv a bould woman, that's sarten : musha, 
 myself 'ud no more do id nor I'd ate a harrow 
 for my supper, an' the spikes 'ud be mighty apt 
 to hurt a body, I'm tauld ; an' sure, Bridge, as 
 you said afore, if Ned Shea hard that story, he 
 wouldn't be sayin' any thing bad o' the good 
 people, in haste, agin." 
 
 " There's nothin' in the world 'ud persuade 
 ould Ned Shea, Andy ; he gives the bothered 
 side to all kinds o' witchcraft : tho' little right 
 he has, in regard his own family suffered well 
 by it." 
 
 " What's that you say, Bridge, a-roon ? — 
 there was witchcraft in the family ?" 
 
 " Aye, a-vicli ; did you never hear tell iv id ?" 
 
256 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 " Musha, never a word ; bud won't be long so, 
 plaise God, bavin' you to tbe fore." 
 
 " I'd tell you wid a-heart-an'-a-half, becase I 
 likes well to hear a story, or tell a story, only 
 I'm afeard o' my life it's growin' too late, an' 
 wbat 'ud become o' me iv the ould misthresswar 
 to waken, an' ketch us here." 
 
 " An', case she did, what could she make iv 
 id ? Did she never coort, a bit, hersef, I 
 -woudher?" 
 
 " Avoch, Andy, them times is gone wid her, 
 aii' now it's nothin' bud 'mind your work,' frum 
 week's-end to week's-end. Well, ^-vich, here's 
 the story, any how. 
 
 " You know what a wicked set o' people the 
 bocchochs is, given' to all sorts o' witchcraft an' 
 evil doins, the Lord save us ; it was upon a 
 time, now fifty years or more ; I don't remem- 
 ber id — " 
 
 Andy here interrupted Bridge to rally her on 
 the simplicity of soul that urged her to assert 
 her personal ignorance of facts that, according 
 to her own statement, had happened before her 
 mother was born ; and we take advantage of the 
 interruption to remark, that, without meaning 
 to say we have led the reader so fur in this 
 chapter for nothing, — a particular degree of at- 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 257 
 
 tention will be necessary while Bridge Chree 
 proceeds iu her second story. 
 
 " Thrue enough, Andy, a-cuishla," in reply 
 to his criticism ; " but, as I was sayin', iv a time, 
 durin' the patthern o' John's-well, there came 
 people from all parts o' the world, to do pil- 
 grimage at the holy place, an' a power of boc- 
 chochs came too, to beg iv the good christhens, 
 as yoursef may see 'era to this day, an' to sell 
 beadses, an' gospels, an' them sort. Well; 
 whin the patthern was over, an' all good people 
 gone away, there was a bocchoch cum a beggin' 
 to Ned Shea's father's door, the same house 
 we're sittin' in at this prasent time; an' by 
 coorse he got shelther, and the best iv every 
 thing in the way ; people is afeard, you know, 
 to refuse them any thing, becase they might be- 
 witch all afore 'em, cows an' horses, an' all, man 
 an' baste, the growin' crop, an' the seed in the 
 ground ; so he ate an' dhrank, an' had lodgin', 
 like one o' the family ; an', I'm tould, v/as a 
 clane, clever, likely young fellow, Andy, mooch 
 the same iv yourself, frum beiu' well to look at, 
 I mane, bud you have none iv his rogue's thricks 
 about you, I hope in God — be asy, now, I tell 
 you; — so he stopt at ould Ned Shea's house, 
 — not the ould Ned Shea that is now, but the 
 
258 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 ould fellow iv all, that was his father, — fourteen 
 or fifteen days., or there-a-way ; and may be he'd 
 do a start o' work, but very little iv id, only in 
 the night he'd set himself down among 'em, an' 
 rehearse many sthrange an' wonderful stories iv 
 his ramblin' way o' life ; an', as far as their fear 
 an' dread iv a bocchoch 'ud let 'em go, every 
 body loved an' hked him — the villain o' the 
 world that gave sich a bad return for all. 
 
 " Ould Ned Shea that is now had a sisther, 
 a clever, hansome crature, as I'm tould by them 
 that seen her; much like Pierce in the face, 
 only no ways so big, as you may suppose, an' 
 rich an' well she used to dhress, no farmer's 
 daughther in the place, or the next to it, went 
 finer or braver,, becase her father could afford 
 to give, an' he gave wid all his heart, to his own 
 an' only girl, that was the light in his eyes ; au' 
 tinderly she was brought up ; an' many o' the 
 richest an' best born o' the young men o' these 
 parts came a coortin' iv her ; but she wasn't 
 asy to be plaised, or else had no notions in that 
 away, goin' about, an' walkin' wid her head up, 
 an' her heart simple ; troublin' herself not the 
 laste on any thing but her maid's thoughts. 
 Now, mind me, Andy. What duv you say to 
 this thing iv a bocchoch, bud he moost go an' 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 259 
 
 make love to her in an underhand way ? an' 
 what duv you think id ended in ? why, first, if 
 she war shy an' lofty to them that war her 
 aquils, or more, may be, fur sarten she didn't 
 give ear to a rovin' bocchoch ; the grand col- 
 leen knew what was her place an' part ; bud he 
 swore an oath to her, if she'd tell any o' the 
 family, he'd bring sorrow and poverty to their 
 dour, an' she was loth to say a word fur that 
 good raison ; an' when he found he could't cum 
 round her by fair manes, he tried foul manes, to 
 be sure. 
 
 " You often hard, Andy, that the bocchochs 
 can make bewitched pins, sich as if they gives 
 one o' them to a young crature iv a girl, or an 
 ould one, no matther which, she'll go wid 'um 
 the world over, in misery and in hardships, if 
 she war a king's daughter r" 
 
 " Often I hard iv the thing,'' replied Andy, 
 " but never could come across any one 'ud 
 tell me how the charm was put upon the pin, 
 a-chorra." 
 
 " Och then, Andy, I'd tell id, bud it's too 
 fearful to rehearse at this lonely hour o' the 
 night." 
 
 " Musha, no, a-cuishla ; sure myself 'ill stay 
 as near you as ever I can, while you're tellin' id, 
 
260 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 an' divil a once we'll look about, frutn the fire 
 foment us." 
 
 " I had id iv a cuseen o' my own, who was 
 taken wid a young girl, that had no likin' fur 
 him, an' he went to an ould bocchoch to get a 
 bewitched pin. Curos he was to see how the 
 charm was made : and the bocchochs, fur a good 
 fee, dhressed him in their tatthered clothes, an' 
 passed him for one o' themselves, an' so he seen 
 the whole wicked work ; God forgive him, it 
 war a great sin, an' a heavy penance he got fur 
 id, the next time he went to his Easther duty. 
 He seen two o' their ould withered women go 
 to a lone bog, in the dead o' the night, sayin' 
 words, all the while, that he couldn't under- 
 stand ; they war like prayers, bud not the same 
 a christhen 'ud say ; an' they seeked out, crawlin' 
 on hands an' knees, for a little herib, an' they 
 pult id ; wid undhressed hemp, wetted in the 
 dew o' the night, they spun a thread, an' then 
 dyed id wid the little herib ; he went wid them 
 to a berrin-place, an' they scooped out a grave, 
 an' tuck up a cauld corpse, that was nine days 
 berrid ; an' the man died widout a priest in his 
 last moments, an* was a very wicked man, for no 
 other 'ud do ; they lifted off the coffin-lid, an' 
 the corpse lay bare in the moonlight." 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 261 
 
 " The Lord be good to us V ejaculated 
 Andy." 
 
 " Amen, I say ; an' he seen the withered wo- 
 man put nine long pins into the left palm ; an' 
 they tied id wid the black hemp-sthring,in the 
 divil's name. God keep us from his evil ways ! 
 then they berred the corpse agin, an' he seen 
 'em goin' round an' round the grave, backard 
 an' forard, in the blessed moon-shine, shinin' 
 on their bad doins ; afther nine days an' nights 
 he went wid 'em again, an' they had the same 
 corpse up agin ; an' takin' the pins frum the 
 hand, they tied the black sthring round the 
 thumb, an' through an' through the fingers, or 
 what was left iv 'em, an' the pins had the charm 
 on 'em, an' the charm was done." 
 
 " Did he give id to the colleen ?" asked 
 Andy. 
 
 " No, Andy ; fur his conscience sthruck him, 
 an' he went an' confessed all, an' threw the pin 
 into the runnin' wather, an' parformed his pe- 
 nance; but the girl, pityin' him mooch, an' out 
 o' thanks fur not bewitchin' her in a wrong way, 
 let him do id in a right way, a little time afther, 
 an' all ended in a christhen manner. But to 
 cum back to Dora Shea. 
 
262 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 " The bocchoch put his charm on Dora, lav- 
 in' her one iv the pins, an' went his road, sure 
 an' sarten of what was to come about; for thrue 
 it is, Andy, that poor Dora, the pride iv her 
 father, an' the love o' the world, soon went af- 
 ther him. From that day to this, auld Shea, 
 Pierce's father's father, 'ud never let a beggar- 
 body see the inside iv his house; many's the 
 one he whipped away from id ; but one in par- 
 ticlar. It was a cauld blowin' night, in winther 
 time, when a poor tattered crature cum to his 
 dour, an' axed charity fur the love o' God, 
 houldin' a baby in her arms, an' the snow fallin' 
 on the both, an' they amost naked; a little scrap 
 o' food she begged fur herself an' her babby, fur 
 she had the faititness wid hunger, an' a night^s 
 shelther in any hole or corner undher his roof; 
 bud he only tuck his heavy horsewhip, an' 
 slashed her back into the dhrift an' could o' the 
 storm, fur the ould man's heart was scalded 
 sore by his daughther's loss, an' hardened, an' 
 what id usen't to be, so that, frum the hour she 
 left him, he hever riz his head, nor opened his 
 hand in charity ; he whipped the poor night- 
 beggar frum his gate, I say, till, as the shiverin' 
 crature ran frum his blows, she screeched out 
 
CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 263 
 
 her name, an' it was Dora, his own child ; bud 
 the change o' want an' woe was on her, an' he 
 that nursed her on his knee, an' for seventeen 
 years followed her wid eyes o' love, as she sat 
 by his side, or moved round his house — her fa- 
 ther, Andy a-cuishla, didn't know her, and sure 
 she was never heard of afther." 
 
 " God help her, Bridge, bud she met a bad 
 fate ; I wondher. Bridge honey, I never hard 
 o' that story afore." 
 
 "They don't like to have id talked about, 
 becase it's a blot on the family ; but when will 
 you be goin' to Sheeum-ua-Sheeog, Andy?" 
 They rose to part. 
 
 "Wid sparrow-chirp in the mornin', plaise 
 God I live an' do well." 
 
 " Musha, loock an' speed to you, Andy a- 
 vourneen, an' take care o' yoursef, and keep out 
 o' the way o' the good people." 
 
 " Faith, an' I will so, or no fault o' mine. 
 Bridge ; — -och, you crature, how I longs to 
 make my own o' you !" 
 
 " Mysef 'ud be glad the time was cum too, 
 Andy : bud now it's far in the night, an' I moost 
 be up two hours afore day, becase we have a 
 week's churnin' to do in the mornin' ; and so, 
 good night, an' God be wid you." 
 
264 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 After some tender expostulations on the part 
 of Andy, and — but we are discreet; any of our 
 readers who happen to be lovers, or who have 
 been, and we believe this includes a pretty con- 
 siderable majority of those who shall delight in 
 our pages, may easily imagine, or recollect, how 
 lovers generally separate ; and thus, no matter 
 obout the distinction of rank, they will have the 
 parting of Bridge and Andy ; he stealing off in 
 his stocking-vamps, that he shouldn't awaken 
 any of the household, while she remained, to 
 say her prayers, with her back to the fire, in 
 which pious and comfortable vein and position 
 she did not forget her wonted " pather-an'-avy," 
 for the good of the soul and body of her own 
 Andy Awling. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Heretofore, a description of persons, known 
 by the general denomination of bocchochs, in- 
 fested Ireland, of whom indeed some trace's yet 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 265 
 
 remain, but to a comparatively trifling extent. 
 These people resembled, in their practices and 
 habits, the gypsies of other countries (who, it 
 is perhaps remarkable, never were known in the 
 sister island), differing from them only in the cir- 
 cumstance of their not being a distinct race, or 
 the descendants of one. A crafty, knavish, and 
 withal talented fraternity, they lived well by 
 practising on the charity, the superstitions, the 
 unwariness, or the terrors of their more simple 
 countrymen ; and from the various ailments 
 they exhibited, or were skilled in counterfeiting, 
 as well as from their begging profession, came 
 their general name of" bocchochs," " lame peo- 
 ple," or "lame beggars:" for they appeared 
 with broken or distorted limbs or features; 
 affected blindness ; or compelled sympathy by 
 the display of loathsome sores, deceptively 
 caused by the application of well-known caustic 
 herbs to the skin. 
 
 From this it may be inferred that their po- 
 pular denomination of bocchochs was but very 
 partially merited ; the fact is, they were for the 
 most part hale and well-looking, when they 
 doffed their various disguises, and assembled 
 together to enjoy the profits of their knavery ; 
 or when a fellow, who during the day ha^i 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
266 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 seemed lame or blind, cast away, with Lis old 
 clothes, his assumed defect, and joined in riot 
 and debauchery, and without suspicion, those 
 from whose charity and credulity he had ex- 
 torted the means of spending as freely as the 
 richest among them. 
 
 Following their occupation of mendicants, 
 they frequented fairs and markets ; and at one 
 other place of popular resort were to be met in 
 the greatest numbers. It is sufficiently known 
 that throughout Ireland there were, and on a 
 diminished scale still are, in cei'tain districts, 
 holy wells, each sacred to some particular saint, 
 whither the very devout portion of the people 
 repair, on the festival of the beatified patron, to 
 perform self-inflicted acts of atoning pilgrimage 
 and prayer : and, among such crowds, the boc- 
 chochs most successfully displayed their defor- 
 mities, or else imposed on the open-mouthed 
 credulous by exhibiting, in their own persons, 
 pretended miraculous cures, avowed to have 
 been performed at the shrine where the pilgrims 
 were assembled. Some were happily restored 
 to sight, who never had a mote in their eye ; 
 others recovered the use of a limb that, at least 
 in the exercise of running or filching, had never 
 been much paralyzed ; and the stentorian recital 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 267 
 
 of such wonders, mixed with seasonable appeals 
 to the charity and zeal of the auditors, never 
 failed to bring them large " ofiFerings :" others 
 sold rosaries or wooden crucifixes, to create an 
 opportunity for their accomplices to pick the 
 pockets of those who were gathered around, 
 making purchases. 
 
 Even here their accompUshments did not end. 
 The best Keeners, or reciters of the Keenthe- 
 caun, were to be found among them ; and, well 
 patronised for the exercise of their spontaneous 
 talent in elegiac poety over the dead, — at which, 
 from constant practice, they had acquired great 
 facility, — they trudged through the country, 
 from wake to wake ; their retreat from such 
 places being generally remarkable for a simul- 
 taneous disappearance of every thing that could 
 be carried off. They were concerned, indeed, 
 in all petty robberies, either as principals or 
 accessories, and known to be the most approved 
 channels for the disposal of stolen goods ; their 
 wandering habits, and skill in disguising their 
 local derivation, greatly assisting them in this 
 agency ; for the bocchochs passed every where 
 for strangers ; in Leinster, they were Munster- 
 men, and, in Munster, Leinster-men, as their 
 
 n2 
 
268 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 altered and well-feigned accent and idiom, in 
 either province, plainly evinced. 
 
 Bridge Chree has truly informed us that their 
 character for witchcraft was high ; and alto- 
 gether the peasantry dreaded them to excess. 
 If refused relief, or but scantily afforded it, 
 they threatened vengeance ; and vengeance was 
 sure to follow. The father trembled lest his 
 daughter should be lured away ; the mother 
 trembled lest her infant should: be kidnapped ; or, 
 if neither of these grounds of apprehension 
 existed, the destruction of property was dread- 
 ed ; and cattle found dead without marks of 
 violence, and therefore attributed to the witch- 
 craft of the disobliged bocchoch, or the mys- 
 terious removal of all portable articles of do- 
 mestic use, was a cause for behaving hyprocriti- 
 cally civil to the wandering beggars ; who thus, 
 when no place of general assemblage attracted 
 them, rambled about singly, from house to 
 house, living luxuriously and lazily on the ab- 
 horring conciliations their superior cunning and 
 cleverness commanded. 
 
 So much of preface was found necessary, in 
 addition to Bridge's anecdotes, to introduce the 
 following: true scene and situation. 
 
CROHOORK OF THE BILL-HOOR. 269 
 
 In a narrow lane, among the very outskirts of 
 the straggling and dirty suburbs of Kilkenny, 
 lived a little -woman, who had a less mother. 
 Her name was Christien Moore ; though her 
 neighbour, Molly Dungan, in consequence of 
 their many battles concerning Molly's pig and 
 Christien's brood of young ducks, called her, 
 contemptuously alluding to her stature, Chrees- 
 theena, or wee Christien ; for Molly had a juve- 
 nile swine that would sometimes regale itself 
 on one of Christien's ducklings, at which the 
 sufferer fluently rated pig and mistress, and 
 Molly would excuse the esteemed animal by 
 pleading its youth and want of sense ; until, 
 words growing high, our present subject received 
 the epithet we have recorded, and, calling all 
 the vinegar into her vinegar system, charged 
 Molly in return with being " a virago;" Chris- 
 tien having once travelled as part of a soldier's 
 baggage, and learned some good English ; but 
 this agreeable gossip is far away from our pre- 
 sent purpose. 
 
 Chreestheena knew fifty summers, and her 
 mother closed on a century. They were tireless 
 spiimers ; one spun with a distaff, the other 
 with a wheel ; and the product of their eternal 
 industry was manufactured into coarse blankets, 
 
270 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 coarse sheets, and ticking. Creestheena had had 
 her husbands three, and, it was whispered, was 
 now on the look out for a fourth ; with this, 
 however, we again say, we can have no concern. 
 It is only mentioned for the purpose of entitling 
 us to relate, that she had employed her second 
 good man, with a hatchet borrowed from a 
 neighbouring cooper, to chop points, on short 
 pieces of oak wattles, and then drive them, at 
 short intervals, into the mud floor of her cabin, 
 next the wall, until some ten or twelve of them 
 encompassed a space, little more than the length 
 and breadth of an ordinary-sized man. Against 
 the outer sides of these, the still-obedient hus- 
 band laid rough boards ; and the area, so con- 
 trived, was next filled with dried bark brought 
 from a contiguous tan-yard ; over which Chris- 
 tien put a good coarse tick, stuffed with oat- 
 chaff; a bolster of the same ; sheets coarse 
 enough for a Scotchman infected with the 
 plague of his country ; and, lastly, a pair of 
 heavy warm blankets ; tick, sheet, and blankets, 
 all derived from the spinning of herself and her 
 little blind mother. In process of time six good 
 beds of this formation and material were ar- 
 ranged round her cabin, to the occupation of 
 any one of which any person was welcome who 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 271 
 
 paid a penny per night for the repose therein to 
 be obtained. There was a fire-place in the 
 hotel, but, agreeably to custom, without the 
 superfluity of a chimney ; so that the stifling 
 sulphur of the stone-coal of her native city 
 filled the atmosphere of the always confined 
 spot, and might be considered a foretaste of the 
 fumigation said, in every Christian country, ex- 
 cepting Wales, to prevail in the lower regions ; 
 and to which, if report err not, some of her penny 
 customers were, as a needful anticipation, well 
 entitled. But Chreestheena's "fire without 
 smoke" was generally bright and hot, and her 
 beds seldom empty. 
 
 The night on which Andy Awling and Bridge 
 Chree enjoyed their own peculiar blaze, and 
 their own peculiar conversation in Ned Shea's 
 kitchen, three of the very description of person's 
 of whom she and we have last spoken had taken 
 up their quarters for the eveniixg at Chrees- 
 theena's well-swept hearth. For the weighty 
 consideration of two pence, instead of a half- 
 penny, each, they bargained to have entire pos- 
 session of the premises ; and it will clearly be 
 seen that, by this arrangement, Christien was no 
 loser; while, for the further consideration of 
 sixpence halfpenny, of common stock, she con- 
 
272 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 sented to replenish the fire for their exclusive 
 use ; and, having done so, she led her wee mo- 
 ther to bed, into an inner apartment, v^here they 
 together enjoyed the luxury of a bedstead to 
 themselves ; Chreestheena congratulating her 
 own heart on the profitable bargain she had 
 struck, as, besides the saving of wear and tear 
 in three of the beds of her hotel, she had re- 
 ceived for the coals three-pence farthing above 
 prime cost. 
 
 So soon as the hostess was heard to snore, 
 Risththarde Bocchoch (Limping Dick) pulled 
 from his two-sided wallet a pair of dead ducks, 
 having their necks awry, and, skilfully plucking 
 them, raised up one of the ticks, and proceeded 
 to deposit under it the superfluous feathers : 
 Padhre Keaoch (Blind Peter) brought forth 
 three large skregs or cakes of brown bread, 
 remarking that the crust looked to him a little 
 over-browned ; and Sheemun Croonawnee (Si- 
 mon the Whining Singer) added two large 
 horns of genuine smuggled brandy, such as it 
 would be difficult in the same city of Kilkenny 
 to match at the present day, and which he had 
 received to bribe his silence respecting a hogs- 
 head he by chance saw dropped in a certain 
 hiding-place, whither he had subsequently, for 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 273 
 
 another bribe, introduced the district exciseman : 
 and such were the materials of the lietit souper 
 of the three worthies. 
 
 Having completely plucked, and otherwise 
 prepared his ducks, Risththarde, by the agency 
 of a large pocket blade with which he was 
 seldom unprovided, dismembered and arranged 
 them for broiling ; and good white wooden 
 trenches were brought down from Christien's 
 dresser to hold the dainty fare. 
 
 While thus employed, " Bow, wow, wow," 
 exclaimed Padhre Keaoch's black shock dog ; 
 
 " And, who the duoul is thumpin, now?" said 
 his excellent master, as a sounding knock, as 
 if from the head of a heavy stick, came to the 
 door. 
 
 " Let him just stay abroad, whoever he is," 
 said Sheeum Croonawnee, " fur a dhrop o' this 
 holy wather 'ill never pass his breath." 
 
 The knock came again. 
 
 " Who's that, I say ?" asked Risththarde, in 
 a gruff voice, " wakenin' honest people at this 
 hour o' the night." 
 
 " Musha, aye, let him stay at the wrong side 
 o' the dour, Sheemun ; an' I'd kiss the book 
 that he'll never get the taste o' these ducks ; 
 Paudge Keefe that owned 'era didn't give lave.' 
 
 N 3 
 
274 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 Knock, knock, knock, knock, 
 
 "Go out o' that wid yourself," roared Pa- 
 dhre, " an' let poor people take their night's 
 sleep," 
 
 " Arrah, what a sleep you're in, Padhre 
 Keaoch," said a voice outside, " I smell what's 
 good, an' must have my share." 
 
 " The black duoulwhipme round the market- 
 cross," resumed Padhre, " bud it's one iv our- 
 sefs, boys : an' more nor that, I'm a blind cul- 
 lawn iv a downright arnest, an' deaf along wid 
 being blind, if it isn't Shaun-law-thcaum, every 
 inch iv him.'' 
 
 " Och, iv it's that poor desolate crature, the 
 Lord forbid we'd keep him abroad in the could 
 o' the night," said Risththarde. 
 
 " 'Twouldn't be the part iv a christhen to do 
 any other thing," said Padhre, " an' afther all 
 he'll get a sprinklin' o' the holy wather." 
 
 " What's the name is on you?" asked Shee- 
 mun. 
 
 " Shaun-law-thcaum I'm called by them that 
 knows me well, " answered the voice ; then 
 added in a whining, snuffling cadence — "Good 
 tinder christhens, look wid an eye iv marcy on 
 a poor desolate crature that hasn't the use iv 
 his own hands to arn a male o' victuals for him- 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 275 
 
 self an' his ould bed-rid mother, an' four small 
 brothers an' sisthers, at home." 
 
 " That 'ill do," said Sheeraun ; " stay a little, 
 yon poor sowl, an' you must cum in, fur God's 
 sake." 
 
 " May he mark you wid grace, an' pour a 
 blessin' on you an' yours," resumed the voice, 
 still in its professional key : then familiarly — 
 " make speed, Sheemun, fur I'm could an' 
 hungry." 
 
 But here arose a little unforeseen difficulty. 
 Chreestheena had, according to wholesome prac- 
 tice, locked the door of her caravansary, lest 
 the night her guests and her blankets might 
 happen to vanish together. Sheemun Cro- 
 nawnee went to arouse her ; and when she 
 savr', suddenly startled from her sleep, a black, 
 wicked-looking fellow standing, rushlight in 
 hand, over her in her bed, Christien screamed 
 with all her soul, and was joined by her blind 
 mother, who, because she could not see any 
 thing, feared every thing, and a thousand things 
 too terrible to mention ; when at length made 
 sensible of what was wanted, she would by no 
 means entrust another with the key, but arose 
 herself to admit the new comer ; and finally. 
 
276 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 when arrived at the door, she would by no 
 means open it, unless two pence additional was 
 paid down by those already in possession : her 
 terms bein^ agreed to and fairly met, however, 
 Chreestheena at once gave the visitor admission, 
 without ever looking at the sort of person that 
 entered. 
 
 " Och, you three schamin' rogues," said 
 Shaun, as he joined his old friends; "well I 
 knew where to find you." 
 
 " An' what, in the name o' the vargin, brought 
 you a ramblin', at sich an hour V he was asked. 
 
 " Why T cum all the ways from Garrodhe 
 Donohoo, to seek ye." 
 
 " An' what does Garrodhe want iv us ?" 
 
 "That's a story to be tould : you must, all 
 three o'you, make the best haste you can to him, 
 afther the fair, next Wednesday night." 
 
 " Och, very well; we ought to have good 
 getherins at the fair, boys :" said Sheemun. 
 
 " God is a plentiful providher," replied Risth- 
 tharde. 
 
 " Are you as blind as ever, Padhre ?" asked 
 Shaun. 
 
 "The desolate darkness! — a poor crature 
 stone blind ! an' that can't see the day from the 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 277 
 
 night !" — said Padhre, throwing back his head, 
 and half-closing and turning up the whites of 
 his eyes. 
 
 " Ho, ho," Shaun resumed, "we're just four 
 great big rogues, fit to thrapse the world, wide ; 
 bud come, boys ; the night's goin' on, an' we're 
 all in a fair way fur atin', a bit ; Risththarde, 
 let yoursef, an' poore Padhre Keaoch, cook up 
 the prog ; an' as Gorrodhe skinned a sheep to- 
 day, sure I brought ye somethin' to help the 
 faste." 
 
 " Graw-ma-chree you war, Shaun, I never 
 seen worse by you," said Risththarde ; and, while 
 the cooks were busy, Shaun and Sheemun Croo- 
 nawnee held converse in an under tone. 
 
 " Well, Sheemun ; an' you didn't thrap Rhia 
 Doran, yet?" 
 
 Avoch;, no, God help me." 
 
 " Arrah, now, Sheemun, lave ofEthem blessed 
 sayins ; they're words your rogue's tongue has 
 no call to, among friends, any how, that knows 
 you betther nor the mother that bore you." 
 
 " You spake right, Shaun. Well ; as you 
 war axin' me about Rhia Doran, mysef could 
 never get the other body along wid him, sence 
 the first moment Crohoore set me afther 'em." 
 
278 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 " Spake lower, Sheemun ; them two ar'n't to 
 know sacrets ; they're too bould an' hearty." 
 
 "That's a thruth ; bud, Shaun, I'm afther 
 thinkin' it ud be a great shame fur me to be the 
 manes o' takin' o' the life o' Jack Doran ; he 
 desarves betther at my hands." 
 
 " How is that, now, Sheemun?" 
 
 " May I never die doin' sin — " 
 
 " Arrah, then, give over your purtendin' sort 
 o' talk; I say ; spake wid a curse in your mouth, 
 like a world's rogue as you are, if the plain 
 words won't do." — 
 
 " You moost just lave me to myself, Shaun," 
 said Sheemun; "it comes in a way nat'ral to 
 my hand, an' I can't give it over." 
 
 " Then you may go to the duoul wid a prayer 
 in your cheek, iv you like id ; bud you war sayin' 
 Jack Doran deserved betther by you, nor to get 
 his gallows end on your account." 
 
 " May the heavens be my bed if he doesn't ; 
 he has money galore,* an' never spares id on a 
 body he loves ; an' that's mysef." 
 
 Duv you mane to hould back, now, Sheemun 
 Croonawnee ?" asked Shaun, sternly. 
 
 " Musha, God forbid; I'll stick close on him, 
 mornin', noon, an' night, 'till I can ketch him an' 
 * In plenty. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 279 
 
 the t'other at a grab; an' then I'm done wid 
 him ; an' he's done wid the sinful and sorrowful 
 world : au' you may tell Crohoore the same frum 
 me. Bud what does Gorrodhe want wid us, in 
 arnest, to-morrow night, Shaun?" 
 
 " He wants you to be in the Glin o' Ballyfoile, 
 where Pierce Shea 'ill come, too ; an' I don't 
 know what I'm about, bud you must help to tie 
 him, hand an' foot, an' run wid him to the ould 
 haunted place, up in Munsther." 
 
 "The Lord forgi' me my sins! — did I hear 
 you spakin' right, Shaun? did you say young 
 Pierce Shea ?" 
 
 " Divil an' other bud his own sef." 
 
 " Well, Crohoore-na-bilhoge, above all I ever 
 hard tell iv, it's yourself has quare ways in you," 
 ejaculated Sheemun, clasping his hands. 
 
 The cooks interrupted the dialogue. 
 
 " Here, now, an' may the first bit choke ye ; 
 come here, an' thry can you ate, as well as 
 whisper an' talk, you cullodgin' rogues," cried 
 Padhre Keaoch, the banquet being ready. The 
 summons was readily obeyed ; and all gathered 
 round a small deal table, and despatched the 
 broiled ducks, and the mutton, also stolen, and 
 the twice smuggled brandy, with the ease and 
 gout of genuine bocchochs ; at which occupation 
 
280 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 we shall leave them, not haviag any inclination 
 to remain in such company longer than was ne- 
 cessary for the progress of our story. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A FAIR-DAY is a day of great bustle and ex- 
 citement in the city of Kilkenny. Being chiefly 
 a mart for black cattle and pigs, the streets are 
 invaded at an early hour, and the ears of the 
 quiet, snoring citizens outraged by the unusual 
 noise of lowing cows and bullocks, their trotting 
 or rushing along under peaceable chamber win- 
 dows, the shouting of their drivers, and the 
 clattering of alpeens on their back-bones and 
 horns ; while, among them, the curious eye, that 
 has a taste for such studies, may easily distin- 
 guish, by its bold step, its erect hand, its impa- 
 tient bellow, and its staring eyes, distended in 
 admiration of the change from its native fields 
 and streams, to the " streets paved with marble," 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 281 
 
 over which it paces, — the kine of the good fat 
 pasturage, from the poor cotter's half-starved 
 cow, that moves in sober and plodding gait, in- 
 different gaze, and drooping neck, careless 
 where it goes or is, since no change can be for 
 the worse; a good illustration of its human 
 attendant, who, lean as the beast he follows, in 
 tattering garb, cringing and trailling pace, and 
 sharp vacant countenance, conveys, at a glance, 
 the broken and grovelling spirit of conscious 
 poverty, and want of self-importance. There 
 might be observed, too, the strongest contrast, 
 in outward ease and inward content of mind, in 
 the persons of the pampered swine and its thin 
 proprietor, between whom and his self-willed 
 and obstinate pet, many strange and ridiculous 
 struggles occasionally arose ; both disputing and 
 wrangling for an hour together, to see which 
 should have his way. 
 
 Besides these principal articles of sale, the 
 fair of Kilkenny offered many other rare and 
 tempting commodities to the country visitor. 
 Coopers, brogue-makers, hatters, nailers, and 
 makers of chairs, tables, stools, and bedsteads, 
 displayed the various products of their sepa- 
 rate ingenuity ; bright crockery- ware glittered 
 around ; and when we were in our youthful 
 
282 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 days, as at the time of this tale we were, there 
 used to be a display of goodly pewter plates 
 and dishes, and two-handled pots and pints ; 
 but the use of delf has done away with these 
 durable commodities, which now exhibit but as 
 the heir-loom ornaments of the country dresser : 
 and the excise laws, restricting to those who 
 can afford a license the manufacture of home- 
 brewed ale, have sent the pots and pints to the 
 public house, so that general demand no longer 
 requires them in the fair. Under rude awaings 
 of sack or blanket, and spread out on doors that 
 had been taken off their hinges for the purpose, 
 numerous establishments of fancy articles fur- 
 ther attracted the eye ; such as knives and forks, 
 scissars, garters, thimbles, threads, tapes, and 
 a great and rich variety of other nick-nacks. 
 Similarly disposed on unpaiuted deal doors, or 
 planks, there was gingerbread, and all such 
 humble confectionary ; the coarsest fruits in 
 season ; white and yellow cheese, and wooden 
 trenchers and noggins, and the et ceteras of 
 the turner's ware, picturesquely thrown toge- 
 ther. The proprietors of these commodities 
 might be seen, early in the morning, running in 
 breathless haste to secure good and safe spots 
 for opening their sales ; and while they clat- 
 
CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK 283 
 
 tered along in by no means silent emulation, cfr 
 contested with each other the right to a favour- 
 ite stand ; while the cattle bellowed, and the 
 sheep bleated, and the horses neighed, and the 
 headstrong pigs ran through their grunting ga- 
 mut, and the surrounding rush and roar of a 
 thronging multitude was heard over all, startling, 
 as we have before said, was the commencement 
 of a fair day to the tranquil and by no means 
 commercial or bustling citizens of Kilkenny. 
 
 On such a morning, too, the milk-maids, 
 coming in as usual to serve their city customers, 
 v/ith snow-white pails skilfully poised on their 
 heads, without hand to hold them ; the servant- 
 maids — in fact, all the maids, and some of the 
 matrons too — make it a point to ask their " fair- 
 ing" of all their male acquaintance ; less, it is 
 conjectured, in hope of profit, than to hear 
 over and over again the shrewd reply that 
 *' they are the fairest seen that day." To the 
 younger part of the generation it is the day of 
 days, long sighed for and rapturously welcomed; 
 for holidays are granted in every school through- 
 out town, on the score of not exposing poor 
 little boys to the throng of the fair, a precau- 
 tion of which the poor little boys remember 
 not a word ; besides they are on a gleeish and 
 
284 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 greedy look out for their matured and monied 
 acquaintances, " to put their fairing on them," 
 with a prospective eye to the dissipation of the 
 gingerbread-stall, or toy-booth. 
 
 Let us, in kindly feeling, be permitted to 
 dwell a moment longer on the well-remembered 
 features of a scene with which are associated 
 the purest pleasures that even advanced and ex- 
 perienced life can supply — the pleasures of early 
 and innocent recollection. 
 
 In flocked the young country girls, fair and 
 fresh, and plump and rosy, ostensibly, perhaps, 
 to buy a pair of garters, a row of pins, or a 
 ribbon, but, in their best and quaint attire, really 
 to see and to be seen by their rural squires and 
 admirers; to get their fairing, in one shape or 
 other, and in every shape to partake of the 
 unloosed and efiflueut spirit of holiday enjoy- 
 ment. We will omit any positive mention of 
 the occasional fracas between those same squires, 
 the heroes of the cudgel and alpeen, in sys- 
 tematic arrangement, of their interminable and 
 mysterious causes of dispute ; such incidents, 
 though characteristic, being at the same time 
 an intrusion on the pleasing reminiscences we 
 wish to indulge and communicate ; the boc- 
 chochs, who sung and bawled their miseries at 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 285 
 
 every turn, we will not, however, forget ; nor 
 their rivals, the ballad-singers — and oh! none 
 are like to thy ballad-singers, green land of song 
 and of our birth ! — nor, their competitors still, 
 the reciters of prose effusions, who, in the blot- 
 ted rather than printed slips of tea-paper in 
 their hands, found not a word of the wonderful 
 or facetious rigmarole that issued from their 
 mouths, and yet that gulled, over and over, the 
 gaping or grinning rustic. 
 
 In fact, we might, with our delighted readers, 
 pass a good hour in the now mid-day bustle and 
 uproar of the fair ; we might pause to admire 
 the more than Ciceronian art of the buyer and 
 the seller of " a slip of a pig;" the half-prof- 
 fered earnest-money, technically slapped down 
 on the open palm of the vender ; his demur ; 
 the seemingly determined turn-off of the pur- 
 chaser, and the affected carelessness of the 
 other, who, meantime, watches shrewdly every 
 motion of his man; the expeeted return ; "the 
 splitting of the differ ;" and at last the final 
 close, one protesting he gave too much, and the 
 other swearing he sold too cheap ; but both 
 sensible that the unconscious grunter has been 
 obtained exactly at his fair value. Pleased might 
 we -stop to view and hear the temptations of the 
 
286 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 nick-nack merchants, and the longing and wan- 
 dering side looks or whispers of the girls at the 
 finery; or the extravagant country-boy, who, de- 
 spising cakes and gingerbread, treats himself to 
 a penny-worth of curdy cheese, and smacks his 
 palate as, little by little, he consumes the luxury; 
 or the real oratory of the flax-seller, and the 
 imperturbable wisdom of the cunning old wo- 
 man^ carefully examining, after all his flourishes, 
 the article she had not yet purchased ; or the 
 fine national hyperbole of the felt-hat vender, 
 who, leaving Sterne's perukier not a word, as- 
 sures the dubious peasant that the hard and 
 bare surface of the felt " blows like any mea- 
 dow 1" — We might even peep into the regular 
 shops along the main street, and witness, in one 
 or all, the self-flattering praises of the dealers 
 on their goods, and the suspicious and heretic 
 looks of the country buyers, certain in exagge- 
 rated mistrust, that, along with hearing nought 
 but misstatement, they can purchase at five times 
 less than what they are asked; — an hour, did 
 we say ? — alas ! the whole day, — or else our 
 memory is treacherous, or our tastes altered — 
 might be well spent in the ever-changing varie- 
 ties of the fair ; and we regret that now, when 
 we have not rehearsed the hundredth part of its 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK, 287 
 
 novelties, pleasures, and incidents, we are no 
 longer free to indulge our teeming garrulity ; 
 but the story to which we have yoked ourselves 
 requires immediate attention. 
 
 Of all the bocchochs that day eminent, none 
 distinguished themselves so much, or gained 
 more commiseration or money by their well- 
 feigned miseries, and well-uttered appeals, than 
 Chreestheena's four guests of the former night. 
 They had, according to usual practice, separated 
 in different quarters of the fair, and for some 
 time continued their efforts apart ; until, late in 
 the day, Shemun Croonawnee came, as if by 
 accident, upon Shaun-law-thcaum's walk, gave 
 him a secret sign, and both withdrew into a 
 narrow lane, that branched from the main street 
 about half way in its course or extent. 
 
 " A favourable judgment to me, Shaun," 
 said Sheemun, " bud I think I have Rhia Do- 
 ran and the other nabbed at last ; my eyesighth 
 if I didn't see 'em both discoorsin' together, i 
 little while agone, in the thick o' the fair." — 
 
 " JNor-i-een-thou-Iath, bud you're a great fel- 
 low iv a bocchoch ; did Doran see you.'"' — 
 
 " Och, God be good to us, what 'ud be the 
 matther, supposin' he did ? Duv you think he'd 
 
288 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 know Ned Farrel, wid the two eyes he fixed on 
 poor Sheemun Croonawnee?" — 
 
 " Sorrow a fear, I believe ; an' did you make 
 off who his comarade was?" — 
 
 " Lave me alone fur that; sure I never let 
 him out o' my sight, till I thracked him to his 
 den, an' then 1 had all was worth hearin' about 
 him ; an' we have him to get whenever we want 
 him." 
 
 " Ma-ho-bouchal you war ; you'll be a wel- 
 come boy to Crohoore, this night." 
 
 "Yes; an' the richest bocchoch that goes 
 sJiooUn,* by that job. Bud, Shaun, did you see 
 Pierce Shea on the fair ?" 
 
 "'Tisa truth that I did." 
 
 " Well ; look out for him, agin ; in one hour, 
 if he's seen in the town, he'll give work to the 
 skihheeah ;t I hard as mooch on my thravels ; an' 
 I'll tell you how I got the knowledge, over the 
 next pot of ale ; bud be off to him now, or we'll 
 never have him in our hands : an' that 'ud set 
 Crohoore as mad as the ould duoul." 
 
 " Och, by my father's sowl, whoever he was, 
 an' wherever he is, at the prasant time, they 
 mus'n't take him frum us in sich a way." 
 
 * Strolling. t Jack Ketch. 
 
CROHOORE OF TflE BILL-HOOK. 289 
 
 "Well; stir your stumps, an' do your work." 
 
 And Shaun issued forth into the main street 
 singing, in doleful cadence, an Irish elegy, de- 
 scriptive of how his house, wife, goods, and chat- 
 tels, had been burnt, and his fourteen children 
 scorched, and his own arms and breast dis- 
 figured in the effort to save them, as the com- 
 passionate might plainly see ; and Sheemun ex- 
 hibited his hands and wrists crippled from his 
 birth, and also recited his poetical appeal to the 
 charity and tenderness of all hearers. 
 
 Pierce Shea had, indeed, attended the fair of 
 Kilkenny that day, when his ears were startled 
 with the news of the execution of six of the men 
 in whose company he had witnessed only two 
 days before the attack on the dragoons. It was 
 assizes time ; their apprehension took place as 
 soon as a sufficient detachment could be sent out 
 from Kilkenny, after the intelligence of the Ser- 
 jeant ; and the unhappy peasants got but one 
 night for preparation. Hearing this, Pierce na- 
 turally wished to be safe at home. As he was 
 quite a stranger to those who had rescued him, 
 and whose voluntary assistance sprung from their 
 disinclination, as White-boys, to allow him to be 
 sacrificed to his laudable zeal of the previous 
 
 VOL. F. o 
 
290 CROHOORb: OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 night, he confidently reckoned on a safe con- 
 cealment within the limits of his father's farm, 
 where no one, save Doran and his corps, sus- 
 pected even his sortie to the proctor ; for Pierce, 
 reasonably apprehending the paternal displea- 
 sure, had not acquainted his father with a single 
 circumstance of his illegal proceedings. 
 
 Amid a throng of cattle and of people. Pierce 
 now stood meditating a sudden retreat from the 
 fair, when a wild-looking woman, her hair stream- 
 ing about her shoulders, and her face pale and 
 distracted, rushed towards him. At first she 
 seemed as if hurrying on without a determined 
 course; but when near him she stopped sud- 
 denly, and glaring full in his face, addressed 
 him in Irish — 
 
 "Hah! — you are there! — you were not 
 hanged and beheaded to-day — and why were 
 you not ? — you earned your death as bravely 
 as Matthew Moran, my husband — I saw you 
 with these eyes among the sassenach troopers ! 
 — Aye — he died for freeing you! and by the 
 judge above, who is now judging Matthew, that 
 is foul play ! — look ! here is his blood on me 1 — I 
 was at the block — the head rolled at my feet ! — 
 and, — (whisper) — I have it with me — I'm steal- 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 291 
 
 iag it home — but tell no one — they would have 
 taken it from my hands — but I can run fast — 
 fast !"— 
 
 And seeming to forget the former part of her 
 address she disappeared, shrieking wildly, among 
 the distant crowd. 
 
 This rencounter, which had fastened upon 
 him the regards of the people around, froze 
 Pierce to the spot, while it supplied still stronger 
 reasons for a speedy escape homeward, of which 
 he was not yet able to avail himself. Before he 
 could rally his senses, a different kind of person 
 addressed him. 
 
 " Give a help to a poor disabled body, one o' 
 God's cratures, like yourself, good charitable 
 young man," said a miserable beggar, standing 
 close before him, an old hat, tied by a string, 
 hanging down from the neck to the breast, his 
 arms bare, and shockingly twisted from the 
 wrists to the elbows. 
 
 Scarce conscious of what he did, Pierce drew 
 forth a small piece of money and dropped it 
 into the hat. 
 
 ** May he that gives the riches incrase your 
 store, a-vich-ma-chree ; an', fur your charity to 
 the poor an' the forlorn, listen well to the words 
 I'm goin' to say." 
 
 o2 
 
292 CROHOORE OF THIi BILrL-HOOK. 
 
 The beggar advanced nearer ; but Pierce, 
 whose thoughts were still fixed on the frantic 
 woman, did not appear to attend. 
 
 " Son of the Sheas — Pierce Shea!" resumed 
 the man, in a low but distinct voice : Pierce 
 started at the sound of his name, and stared in 
 terror, on the speaker. 
 
 " Speed home from the fair, without loss iv 
 time," continued the mendicant, still whispering 
 closely; " In half an hour, iv you stand in the 
 sthreets o' Kilkenny, your day o' life is gone ; 
 while I talk, they come to seek you ; while I 
 stay here, there is one teUin over to the justhuse- 
 o'-pace,* your night doins on Peery Clancy, and 
 your day-work among the throopers ; speed, 
 speed I say to you, an' don't hear my words 
 widout heedin' 'em ; let no grass grow undher 
 your horse's feet, an' no wind bate your race on 
 the road to Clarah — and — mind me still — take 
 the Wind-gap road." 
 
 A suspicion of treachery — of an arrangement 
 to seize him on a particular road, instead of 
 attempting his apprehension amid the throng 
 and riot of the fair, darted across Pierce's mind, 
 and he asked — . 
 
 * English, Irislied. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 293 
 
 " How does it happen you can know me, and 
 whence is your inteUigence V 
 
 " Lose no time askin' questions, only put 
 your hand into my hat, and take out what you'll 
 find in id," was the answer. 
 
 In one of his visits to Kilkenny, Pierce had 
 got his miniature painted in a sort of way ; it 
 might lay claims to some general likeness, but we 
 promise no further for its fidelity as a portrait, or 
 its excellence as a work of art ; such as it was, 
 however, he had presented it to his young mis- 
 tress, and she sufficiently prized it for the giver's 
 sake, and for the novelty of the toy ; indeed. 
 Pierce had reason to know that Alley always 
 wore it round her neck, and to believe that, 
 in his occasional absence, she never went to 
 rest without calling it twenty fond names, and 
 kissing it twenty times over. He now held it 
 in his hand. 
 
 " The owner o' that sends you word to be bid 
 by me ; an' so, stand here no longer, ivyou wish 
 in your heart to see her again," the beggar went 
 on, as Pierce remained speechless, looking al- 
 ternately from him to the miniature — 
 
 " I'll see you again, before the danger comes 
 on you ; but now for the last time, speed !" — 
 
 At this moment old Ned Shea, who had gone 
 
294 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 some distance to look at a drove of bullocks, 
 called loudly to his son ; Pierce turned to make 
 a sign of speedy attendance, and when he re- 
 sumed his position, the beggar was gone. 
 
 He looked round and round, but could catch 
 no glimpse ; the man, though mingled with the 
 crowd, must not, he thought, be far off; he 
 rushed in every direction to seek him ; still 
 vainly : and then, joining to his terrors of legal 
 apprehension, excessive wonder at the beggar's 
 intimations, knowledge of bis affairs, and con- 
 nexions with his mistress. Pierce, divided be- 
 tween a hope of friendly meaning and a fear of 
 treacherous intent, was soon on the road home- 
 wards ; choosing, in the teeth of his worst 
 thoughts, that named by the mendicant. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Notwithstanding his serious arrangements, 
 Andy Awling could not, until the morning of the 
 fair day of Kilkenny, when his master's absence 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 295 
 
 from home gave him command of his own time, 
 put into execution his purpose of visiting- Shee- 
 um-na-Sheeog; but on that morning he took 
 care to set out, as the day dawned, on his peri- 
 lous mission : and the tender-hearted Bridge 
 Cliree did not fail to rise also, to wish luck to her 
 lover's laudable undertaking. 
 
 It is necessary here to relate as concisely as 
 possible, and on the authority of Bridge Chree, 
 Andy, and indeed the general repute of the 
 whole country, who Sheeum-na-Sheeog was, 
 what his profession, and from what circum- 
 stances he had been led to embrace it. 
 
 First, then, he was not a native of the place 
 where he resided ; and when, twenty years be- 
 fore, he had suddenly appeared in the neigh- 
 boui'hood of Clarah, no one could tell whence 
 he came ; but every one was able to supply the 
 following anecdotes. 
 
 Friday night is the night of the week least 
 eligible to meet the good people ; but, on a 
 Friday, Sheeum had been to a fair, and was 
 returning home, having a little overstepped the 
 limits of moderation, as to the quantity of liquor 
 he had quaffed, but still no way impaired, in his 
 own apprehension, as to the clearness and 
 
296 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 soundness of his judgment. Although the night 
 was an extremely dark night, in November, he 
 had such reliance on himself, and he knew the 
 path-ways across the fields and bogs so well, 
 that he could entertain no doubt of his progress 
 directly homewards : nay, the light in his fa- 
 ther's cabin, over the edge of the fen, already 
 beamed brightly to his vision ; and on he jour- 
 neyed, alternately whistling the Fox's Sleep, 
 or lustily bawling out a verse of the Anacreontic 
 Cruiskeen-Lawn . 
 
 After a reasonable ramble, however, Sheeum 
 began to suspect that his father's cabin was, on 
 this night, farther off than usual, and that, with 
 all his walking, he was as far from it as ever. 
 Not being able clearly to comprehend how this 
 could happen, or not allowing himself time to 
 engage in the investigation, he had nothing for 
 it but to redouble his speed and energies, and 
 push forward. But still and still the well-known 
 light burned distant as before ; so that he either 
 was bewitched himself, and did not move an 
 inch, although he thought he did, or else the 
 cabin moved with a vengeance, receding imper- 
 ceptibly as he advanced : or perhaps some vague 
 ideas that he was bewildered by the Fodheen- 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 297 
 
 Marahull,* and a victim to its untimely pranks, 
 at last dawned in his mind. 
 
 While he was yet opening his eyes wide 
 enough to take a good observation, the trea- 
 cherous flame gave a lew quivers and capers, as 
 if making game of him, and instantly disap- 
 peared, so that he was left in profoundest dark- 
 ness, not able to see any thing, or without 
 any thing to be seen ; and down he sunk in in- 
 creased misgivings, heart-ache, and head-ache. 
 Suddei)ly the brisk notes of a bag-pipe, in 
 capital tune, broke the horrid silence ; and, 
 pricking up his ears, they plainly informed him, 
 beyond possibility of doubt, that the always- 
 loved, and now more than ever welcome strains, 
 could not be far distant. This was blessed re- 
 lief; he regained his legs, and groped and 
 crept in the direction of the music. As he ap- 
 proached it — for it evidently grew louder — 
 cheering peals of laughter, song, and conver- 
 sation, also struck on Sheeum's comforted ear ; 
 a high "rath" obstructed his course; be has- 
 tened to wind round it ; but, when he had 
 doubled the base of the little hill, a most unex- 
 
 * Will-o'the Wisp ; or according to the shortest translation 
 we could ever get of these two words— the fellow of the 
 burning sod that sets people's heads giddy.- 
 
 o3 
 
298 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 pected scene of brilliance and festivity, at only a 
 few yards before him, dazzled his eyes and ra- 
 vished his senses. 
 
 There were no tapers ; he had before proved 
 the night afforded no moon ; and sunshine it 
 assuredly could not be ; yet the spot, and that 
 spot alone, on which sported a multitude of little 
 men and women, beamed with exceeding and 
 fascinating splendour. There was no musician ; 
 no hiding-place for any ; not even an instrument 
 that one might endow with the power of playing 
 up of itself; and yet the music, the sweetest he 
 had ever heard, went merrily on. A dainty 
 board, indeed, there was ; but covered with 
 viands and liq.uors such as he had never before 
 seen : he could recognize no potatoes ; nothing 
 he might call mutton, or beef, or pork (though 
 of these substances, it. must be owned, Sheeum 
 was not the best judge, having contemplated or 
 tasted them, in their boiled or roasted state, 
 only twice or thrice at a wedding or a chris- 
 tening) ; yet, unable as he might be to identify 
 the different species of viands before him, all 
 certainly looked most tempting ; and then the 
 liquor that went round, quaffed out of vessels 
 like in form and colour to the meadow " butter- 
 cup," was not ale, nor wine, nor brandy, but 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 299 
 
 resembled, if any earthly thing, the divine 
 whiskey just then coming into sublunary use, 
 for it was silvery, and pellucid, without a bubble 
 or a head on it, 
 
 The little people all wore grass-green " sber- 
 keens," or short jackets ; various nether gar- 
 ments, with, meantime, a general distinction by 
 which the sexes were made manifest ; and red 
 conical caps, and gay feathers. Some stretched 
 on the sward, feasting, or sipping their nectar, 
 or chattering blithely or rapidly, or laughing 
 loudly ; some were divided into pairs, and 
 seemed making love ; and amazed to the utter- 
 most Sheeum was, to behold a blooming female 
 cousin of his own, — the selfsame girl whom he 
 thought Ije had seen dead and buried three 
 months before, though it was now evident a 
 mock corpse had been left in her stead — lis- 
 tening, in an abstracted air, to a brisk little fairy, 
 who with his cap set smartly on one side of his 
 head, and a tight though minikin leg stretched 
 out as they sat together, appeared doing his very 
 best at the ear of an unwilling damsel. But by 
 far the greater part of the assembly engaged 
 themselves in dancing ; and, sure enough, they 
 tripped it away, in frolicsome time, to the real 
 Irish jig played by the invisible music. 
 
 A man with one eye might, after having for 
 
300 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 a moment contemplated this scene, know that he 
 looked at a fairy revel; and, with his two good 
 eyes, Sheeum could not long remain in suspense 
 or uncertainty, of the fact. Silently and cau- 
 tiously he determined tomove off from so danger- 
 ous a neighbourhood, but his legs refused their 
 office ; and, when he found himself almost literally 
 cliained to the spot, so great was Sheeum's con- 
 sternation that his teeth chattered, his knees 
 knocked against each other, the hairs bristled up 
 from the pores of his skin, and a cold perspi- 
 ration ran down his face. He bethought to say 
 a prayer ; but though his priest could not re- 
 proach him with ignorance, nay, though on the 
 contrary he was rather a favourite of the good 
 man, Sheeum could no more recollect a word, 
 '* no more nor if he never set eyes on a sog- 
 garth's horse ;" until, after many efforts, his 
 tongue, instead of obeying the fair intentions of 
 his thoughts, let out a thundering Irish curse — 
 " Thonomon-duoul!" said Sheeum, aloud; and 
 instantly the feast, the music, the sparkling light, 
 the glancing and busy throng, every thing passed 
 away, like the lightning's flash, amid a general 
 shout or outcry of ten thousand tiny voices, 
 and Sheeum, losing his remaining senses, fell 
 helpless to the earth. 
 
 When he recovered, he was somewhere, he 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 301 
 
 knew not where; living he knew not how ; but, 
 at all events, in the fairies' dwelling. What he 
 saw there, and what he did there, for ten long 
 years, was not to be told, and he never told it ; 
 but when he came back, partly a free and for- 
 given agent, he made use of the secrets he had 
 learned, no matter whether in joy or suffering, 
 for the benefit of the surrounding neighbours — 
 and for a small pecuniary consideration ; which 
 indeed he well earned, inasmuch as the good 
 people would beat him black and blue upon 
 almost all occasions when he interfered with 
 their whims or pleasures. 
 
 Nor did Sheeum lack suitors or fees. Such 
 men were considered public blessings, and re- 
 vered and treated accordingly. Eternally and 
 actively mischievous as the good people were, it 
 would be diflScult for poor powerless mortals to 
 live were it not for the counteracting influence 
 and assistance of Sheeum-na-Sheeog, and his 
 brethren. He sometimes, though not always, 
 cured those disfigured by fairy-blasts; he re- 
 stoi-ed bewitched children ; wrought charms on 
 bewitched cows ; and was eminently celebrated 
 for pointing out where strayed cattle might be 
 found ; because, constantly forced to bear com- 
 pany with the fays in their nightly excursions. 
 
302 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 far and wide, such matters naturally came under 
 his observation. 
 
 He lived up in the hills, as Andy Awling has 
 truly mentioned, in the direction Pierce Shea 
 had at first taken in pursuit of Crohoore-na- 
 bilhoge and Alley Dooliag. The party led by 
 Pierce did not fail to visit Sheeum's artlessly 
 constructed dwelling ; but, the door lying open, 
 and affording free entrance, a glance was sufii- 
 cient to assure them that the naked hovel, then 
 completely untenanted, could afford no con- 
 cealment to the objects of their search. 
 
 The spot in which Sheeum had raised it 
 was, at the time of his industry, the midst of a 
 wild solitude, though, at present, population and 
 the progress of agriculture have entirely changed 
 the face of the country. It was built within 
 a few yards of the bed of a mountain-torrent — 
 (the same, but further towards its source, over 
 which Crohoore had leaped when pursued by 
 Pierce Shea,) against an abrupt elevation, ap- 
 parently for the purpose of having the hill-side 
 to serve as one of the gables, and thus save 
 time and trouble : the side-walls ran at right 
 angles with the hill ; a second gable, composed 
 of rude stones cemented only with yellow clay, 
 faced the stream ; and through this gable, by 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 303 
 
 means of a low and fragile door, exclusive en- 
 trance was afforded to visitors, the air, and the 
 light : in fact, it was the only orifice in the build- 
 ing. The roof, carelessly covered with rushes, 
 fern, and furze, could scarcely be distinguished 
 from the hill against which it rested, and from 
 which these materials had been taken ; so that 
 a person, coming in the rear of the dwelling, 
 might almost step upon it before he perceived it. 
 The outward physiognomy of this wild hovel 
 bespoke its internal accommodation. Here and 
 there, a few rough shelves of bog-wood, strewed 
 with dried herbs, earthen vessels, and small 
 phials, hung against the uneven walls ; and from 
 the edges appended black beetles of the largest 
 species, and some Dorch-Luchres, the descrip- 
 tion of small lizard common in Ireland, much 
 abhorred by the peasantry, though quite harm- 
 less. A deal table, and two low stools, formed 
 the rest of the furniture. There was no ap- 
 pearance of a place reserved for sleeping ; no 
 hearth, hob, or chimney ; a particular black- 
 ened spot by the wall shewed, however, that a 
 blaze was occasionally kindled ; and some furze, 
 heaped against the bare bill-side opposite the 
 entrance, seemed stored there for fuel. 
 
304 CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 This was a poor and cheerless residence for 
 a man of such might as Sheeum-na-Sheeog ; 
 it served, however, well enough as an audience- 
 chamber : he spent none of his hours of plea- 
 sure or privacy in it ; it was knov»'n that during 
 the night, mounted on a titrawneen, like them- 
 selves, he drove through the air with the good 
 people — for many of their missions and occu- 
 padons required the agency of mortal hands; — 
 or, night and day, participated their festivity in 
 the fairy hall of the- rath against which his cabin 
 was constructed ; for persons who by chance 
 strayed that way reported of the staind of mirth 
 and music heard within it, sometimes at deep 
 midnight, sometimes early in the morning, and 
 sometimes in the outspread and sunny silence 
 of noon itself; but, when such knowledge came 
 on the wanderer's ear, he crossed himself, no 
 matter what the hour, and fled away, resolving 
 never again to visit the deserted place, and 
 more than willing to compromise his curiosity 
 with his terrors. 
 
 But, driven by irresistiljle motives, Andy 
 Awling took the hill road to this very suspected 
 solitude, on the morning of the fair of Kil- 
 kennv. 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 305 
 
 "Well; God, in his marcies, purtect you, 
 Andy a-gra-bawn," sighed Bridge, as he set 
 out, after having given him some good precau- 
 tionary advice as to his behaviour in the awful 
 presence of the fairy-man. 
 
 '• Och, then, Bridge, your prayer is worth its 
 weight in pure gould ; an' mooch sarvice it 'ill 
 be to me, I'm sure ; so, here goes, in the name 
 o' God." 
 
 When he had got a few paces, he bethought 
 himself— 
 
 " Arrah, Bridge, a-lanna, won't you pelt the 
 ould brogue afther me, fur loock." 
 
 " Well thought on, Andy, a choi'ra ;" — and 
 she stooped, plucked off her paved " pantoufle," 
 and, in the energy of her zeal, flung it after 
 Andy with too true an aim, and too superfluous 
 a force. It smote him on the back of the head, 
 with a violence that vv^ould have stove In the 
 thin paper-skull of a genius — (we pay ourselves 
 no compliment); — but Andy's substantial cra- 
 nium only sounded under the blow, and he only- 
 staggered a little, as, putting his hand to the 
 assaulted part, he exclaimed — 
 
 " Why, then, upon my conscience. Bridge, 
 agra, an' that's as good as if I tuck my oath, iv 
 there's loock or grace in id, you gave me 
 
306 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 enough an' plenty, an' some to spare ; musha, 
 only I wouldn't do it — " he paused, rubbing his 
 head, and looking at the brogue as if he wished 
 to return it to the owner ; but the dread of 
 casting back his luck along with it made him 
 give up his purpose ; and at last he turned on 
 his heel and set out in good earnest, as much 
 out of humour with poor Bridge as his nature 
 permitted, and adding in a grumble, " that tho' 
 she meant well, she might have done the thing 
 asier, any how." 
 
 Having gained the lonely dwelUng of Sheeum- 
 na-Sheeog, Andy took post at the angle of 
 the side-wall, out of view of any one within, and, 
 pulhng off his hat, was about to commence, 
 according to Bridge's instruction, and, indeed 
 his own determinations, a preparatory prayer, 
 when — " Come in, Andy Awling !" — said a so- 
 norous voice from the hovel. There was a 
 sudden finish to Andy's orisons ; his jaw drop- 
 ped ; he opened his eyes wide as the lids would 
 permit him ; and it was not his fault if his ears 
 also did not expand to listen. He had never 
 beheld Sheeum-na-Sheeog ; nor, to his know- 
 ledge, had Sheeum-na-Sheeog ever beheld him ; 
 and how, then, did the wizard know who was 
 there ? — or, indeed, since Aridy had taken care 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 307 
 
 to approach without coming in sight of the en- 
 trance, how could he know any one at all was 
 there ? While pondering these things in some 
 consternation, the voice again spoke. 
 
 " Andy Awling ! — Andy Houlohan ! come in 
 to me, I say !" — 
 
 Andy turned the corner, and crossed the 
 threshold, as if he were obeying some outward 
 impulse, rather than acting by his own free will. 
 He had to stoop low, in entering the hovel, 
 and, when he again raised his eyes, he stood be- 
 fore one who could be no other than Sheeum- 
 na-Sheeog. 
 
 " Ho ; you are there, Andy Houlohan ; why 
 did you keep me waitin' ? I expected you ; se 
 chise ;"* and he pushed over a low stool, upon 
 which Andy settled himself as commanded, 
 though in doing so he was obliged to cripple his 
 knees up to a level with his mouth. 
 
 Sheeum-na-Sheeog, although robust, was an 
 old man ; his almost snow-white locks hung 
 about his yet fresh-coloured face. He wore a 
 rusty blue great coat, fastened tight up to his 
 chin; and a leathern belt was buckled round 
 his waist. He had quivering black eyes, of 
 which the expression, when they seized on 
 * Sit down. 
 
308 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 Andy's dead stare, was, by the visitor, inwardly 
 acknowledged as very unusual and disagreeable ; 
 altogether, Andy had never before found him- 
 self in the presence of a human creature so 
 calculated to inspire feelings of awe, reverence, 
 and mistrust. For a moment they silently re- 
 garded each other, from their opposite stools ; 
 Andy wearing the selfsame face he had uncon- 
 sciously assumed when the first surprising words 
 startled him outside the door. At length, the 
 fairy man resumed. 
 
 " I see you can't spake ; no matter ; I'll 
 save you the throuble. You cum here to find 
 out if I can help you to get Alley Dooling from 
 the good people," 
 
 " Och, murder!" — was all Andy could gasp 
 forth. 
 
 " Aye ; I know well what you'd be for sayin', 
 if you could ; you'll think it a wondher how I 
 cum by the knowledge ; but that's no concern o' 
 yours." 
 
 The person addressed here put on a face as 
 if he were going to cry ; though perhaps it was 
 only the beginning of an effort to assure his 
 host that, however he might be astounded at this 
 unceremonious rifling of his innermost thoughts, 
 he had no intention to call him to an account for 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 309 
 
 any thing ; but, before a word could be found to 
 eke out the preface of Andy's face, Sheeum-na- 
 Sheeog abruptly went on. 
 
 " Where's the money I'm to get for my 
 helpin' you, and to comfort me for the bad 
 trateraeut I'll meet in your sarvice ?" 
 
 Andy, without taking his eyes from the won- 
 derful man, stole his fingers into the profound 
 pocket of his vest, and presented what they 
 hooked up. Sheeum-na-Sheeog took the prof- 
 fered fee ; viewed it a moment; and then, dart- 
 ing at Andy the glance of an old rat, said in a 
 high tone — 
 
 " This beggarly skillin won't do ; there's a 
 fjuineah'beg * in the t'other pocket, ma bou- 
 chal." 
 
 Andy caught breath, and jumped on his stool 
 — " Murther, murther, I ax your thousand par- 
 dons, over an' over ; sure it was never my ma- 
 nin' to put you off wid that ;" — the other made 
 no answer, but kept his terrible eyes fixed on 
 the agitated Andy, while he busied himself 
 fumbling for Bridge Chree's present ; and which 
 he at last found in the very remote corner of the 
 pocket pointed out, as if it participated his 
 * Little Guinea — half a guinea. 
 
310 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 terrors, and was hiding from the touch of the 
 mysterious sage. As he handed it, 
 
 " Ma — " he began, but Sheeum interrupted 
 him with a stamp, and a — " Hah ! — be upon 
 your guard, Andy — no cursin' or swearin' here" 
 — and the trembling Andy did acknowledge to 
 himself that he had, irreverently and uncon- 
 sciously, begun a curse, and would have finished 
 it but for the interruption. 
 
 " You war goin' to say, again, you had no 
 design in ofFerin' me the skillin' instead of 
 this ; an' I know that, too, widout your swearin'. 
 But now to the business that brought you here." 
 
 The fairy-man retired into the far corner, 
 where the gloom almost hid him, and in a short 
 time returned with a piece of flaming bog-wood, 
 and a bunch of furze, taken from the heap, 
 which having also lit, he again addressed, in a 
 tone of command, our observant friend. 
 
 " Stand on your loag legs, Andy Awling !" — 
 Andy bounced up ; — Now take that noggin' o' 
 clear wather in your hand." 
 
 " Iv it war the same thing to you, a-roon-ma- 
 chree, an' iv I had ray choice, I'd rather not 
 take id." 
 
 " Ho, ho ; hold it in your hand, I tell you." 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 311 
 
 " I'm no way droothy ; but behowldin to you 
 as mooch as if I war — " Bridge Chree had 
 particularly enjoined him not to partake of fairy 
 meat or drink. 
 
 " Lift the vessel from the ground, I say !" — 
 with a deep frown, and another stamp, said 
 Sheeum. 
 
 "Sure you wouldn't have the heart to make 
 me dhriuk, when it's hungry I am, if any thing 
 ails me. 
 
 " Aye ; you have the look iv a hungry fellow, 
 an' you moost get a scrap to ate when we've 
 done — •" 
 
 " Och," interrupted Andy, " never a morsel 
 'ill go below my breath 'till I see Clarah agin, — 
 iv its's the will o' God I ever see id — not the big 
 iv a bee's knee — I have a vow." 
 
 " Don't stand talkin', there ; take up the nog- 
 gin, or I'll put you in a way that your own mo- 
 ther won't know you if ever you do get home ;" 
 — and he forced Andy to lay an unwilling hand 
 on the noggin. The blazing furze had by this 
 time burnt into white ashes ; of which the con- 
 jurer took some, and, together with a dead 
 Dorch-luchre, flung it into the noggin; all the 
 time repeating some wonderful words. Having 
 attentively watched the vessel, he continued : 
 
312 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 " Ho ; all right. Pierce Shea; the fire swims, 
 up, bravely." 
 
 Taking- the noggin from his attendant, he 
 laid it on the table : and, snatching a herb from 
 the shelf, still spoke on. 
 
 "This is canavaun-heg , pulled before the 
 night-dews rose to the sun, this mornin' ;" and, 
 when he had again muttered something, he 
 rubbed the herb between his hands. 
 
 " Bravely, bravely, still," he exclaimed; and, 
 rising quickly, drained some of the water out of 
 the noggin into a phial. 
 
 " And nov>', Andy Houlohan, all is done that 
 was to be done ; take this flask, and this herib, 
 an' listen to my words ; afther the first crow o' 
 the cock, to night, let Pierce Shea stand in the 
 glin of Ballyfoile, on the spot where his life 
 was aimed at ; let him throw three sprigs o' the 
 canavaun-heg against the wind, and Alley Doo- 
 lin' will be wid him, undher the stars o' the 
 night ; and then let him give her what's in this 
 little bottle to dhrink, an' she'll follow him to 
 his father's house : bud tell him — an' be sure 
 you mind my words — tell him he moost be 
 alone in the glin ; no livin' thing can be next 
 or near him ; or else, woe to Pierce Shea ; and 
 woe, a thousand times, to him that's in his 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 313 
 
 company. Now put on your hat, an' go your 
 ways." 
 
 Andy paused a moment, and then ventured to 
 speak. 
 
 " Och, may be iv you burnt a bit o' kippinfor 
 me, I'd get lave to go wid him ?" 
 
 " No !" roared Sheeum-na-Sheeog ; — ■" an' 
 moreover, if you attempt the like, the flesh 'ill be 
 vi^ithered on your bones." 
 
 " I havn't another laffina in the 'varsal world, 
 this moment ; bud here's a dacent coat ; the 
 ould cauheeii* isn't very bad, bacase it's my 
 Sunday one, an' not the ould one iv all, an' isn't 
 wid me more nor a year ; an' my ould brogues is 
 bran new ; not six months agone since they war 
 in the brogue-maker's basket ; an' sure all put 
 together is well worth another guineah-beg; an' 
 I'll lave 'em wid you, not axin' betther nor to 
 thrapse home amost as bare as I was born ; an' 
 I'll make my sware to be here agin to morrow 
 mornin' afore you cum back — " 
 " Come back from where ?" — 
 " Avoch, that's a question fit for more know- 
 ledge nor God gave me ; bud iv you get lave for 
 me to go wid Pierce to-morrow night, you 
 
 Hat. 
 VOL. I. P 
 
314 CROHOORE OP THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 shan't be put off wid half a guinea, if I war to 
 rob the altar for id." 
 
 " Goh-rnock — goh-mock, — go your ways !" — 
 exclaimed the fairy man, in a voice of full com- 
 mand, his eyes flashing, and his brows knitting 
 and knitting as he advanced on Andy, who, 
 gradually receding, unconsciously passed the 
 threshold, and then the door was slapped and 
 barred against him. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Bridge Chree took care to be just going out 
 to milk the cows as Andy Awling made his 
 appearance from the hills. Her enquiries as 
 to his success, safety, and adventures, were 
 rapid and incessant. Andy answered, that he 
 had things to tell should make her gape " the 
 full length and breadth of her mouth ;" and 
 he forthwith rehearsed every thing that had 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 315 
 
 befallen him. The frightful omniscience of 
 Sheeum-na-Sheeog: how he knew, beforehand, 
 of his coming, and the business of his visit ; 
 how he told him where to find the half guinea; 
 how he dived into the very depths of his 
 thoughts, and, finally, how he, Andy, scarce 
 escaped a fairy-blast at their ominous parting ; 
 these matters formed his first budget of commu- 
 nication. 
 
 Then, to Bridge's renewed questions, he went 
 over all that related to Pierce Shea and Alley 
 Dooling; and, if Bridge looked frightened be- 
 fore, she now smiled in heart-felt satisfaction. 
 No one had ever heard the like, she said ; she 
 was about to despair when first she looked in 
 Andy's face, for it had not any thing like good 
 news in it ; but his latter words made her mind 
 easy ; all would end well ; and he had only to 
 give the herb and the little bottle to master 
 Pierce, and send him off to the glen, at the 
 earliest cock-crow, that blessed night. 
 
 Here Andy demurred, however. He sus- 
 pected, after all, that her nice bit of gold 
 might just as well have been jerked over the 
 moon, or into the bottom of the river; for not a 
 single step should Pierce Shea trudge to Bally- 
 foile. 
 
 p2 
 
316 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 " Musha, for what reason ?" Bridge asked, in 
 her Grossest tone. 
 
 He would tell her that. He knew well what 
 kind of a bov master Pierce was ; God did not 
 please to give him much sense ; he was a hot, 
 scatter-brained fellow, over-bold and hearty : — 
 if he had to do with honest christians, like him- 
 self, that a body could hit with an alpeen, no one 
 could blame him for being " fractious" when 
 occasion offered ; but, when his business lay 
 among a very different kind of people, the more 
 easy and civil was his speech, the- greater his 
 chance of success, and the better for himself. 
 Pierce, heaven help him for an omadhoun ! did 
 not mind that theory a bit ; and, instead of 
 taking off his hat, and making his scrape, and 
 saying soft words (the way a body would do that 
 had to deal with a hard landlord, that we didn't 
 care the divil had in his pocket all the while), 
 instead of this, why. Pierce would be inclined to 
 use high words, and to call them bad names, in 
 revenge, for keeping Alley so long from him ; 
 nay, if they did not yield her up at the first 
 word, who could tell but he might strike at 
 them ; and then see what a pretty piece of work 
 we should have of it ! 
 
 And so, Bridge again asked, he did not intend 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 317 
 
 to tell master Pierce a word of his morning's 
 journey? 
 
 Never a word, then. Since Andy could not 
 go along with his foster-brother, to keep him 
 out of harm's way, on the spot, determined he 
 was to keep him at home, any how. 
 
 And, what would Andy say, if Sheeum-na- 
 Sheeog should make a cripple of him, all the 
 days of his life, for disobeying his commands ? 
 
 No danger of that. If Andy was to assist in 
 taking Alley from the good people, like enough 
 Sheeum might " turn his head wid his face be- 
 hind him" or put the back part of him before ; 
 and then, upon his conscience, he should be a 
 show to look at, sure enough ; but, when it 
 would be all the other way ; when, in fact, in- 
 stead of forcing or conjuring her from them, he 
 was to have a hand in keeping her where she 
 was; in leaving among them the comeliest col- 
 leen in Leiuster county, barring Bridge Chree, 
 who stood before him ; why, for such a turn as 
 this, Sheeum-na-Sheeog would be obhged to 
 him, and think well of him, on his friend's 
 account, rather than do him any harm. 
 
 Well — Bridge didn't care to cross him, and 
 she saw it was better let Andy have his own way 
 in time. But, considering all the good^money 
 
318 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 it had cost, — and money does not grow on the 
 bushes in the field — would it not be a pity, a 
 sin, and a shame, to throw away the bottle or 
 the sprigs of canavaun-beg ? — So, she asked 
 Andy to give them to her. 
 
 "For what to do wid 'em. Bridge, a-roon?" 
 
 Avoch, there was a poor creature of a cousin 
 she had, who was bewitched ; and, sometimes of 
 a night, she stole off with the fairies, and used to 
 be out with them till morning dawn, in spite of 
 herself, as her own lips avowed ; and may be 
 the little bottle and the herb might cure her, 
 and keep her in her bed, for the future. 
 
 Like enough, Andy said ; and instantly pre- 
 sented them to Bridge, wishing her luck in her 
 attempt. 
 
 But Bridge wanted the bottle and the cana- 
 vaun-heq for another purpose. 
 
 Pierce Shea had just arrived from the fair, 
 his mind agitated by the danger of his present 
 situation, and additionally embarrassed that he 
 could not disburthen it, for sympathy or advice, 
 to any one around him. Even from his foster- 
 brother he had disguised the truth of his noc- 
 turnal adventure, and the bloody accidents of 
 the following day ; accounting for his absence by 
 a storv of a new and still fruitless search 
 
CROHOORIi OF THE BIIiL-HOOK. 319 
 
 after his mistress and her ravisher. Doran he 
 had seen but once, and then only for a hasty 
 moment, since the White-boy outrage. The 
 warning of the mendicant at the fair led him 
 to apprehend that private informations either 
 were or would be sworn against him ; and all 
 his fears and thoughts, experience and rea- 
 sonings, pointed to Crohoore-na-bilhoge as the 
 informer; how this abhorred and mysterious 
 individual could have come by his evidence still 
 remaining matter for discovery. 
 
 While pondering these doubts, as he sat si- 
 lently gazing at the parlour-fire, Pierce was sur- 
 prised by a sudden pressure of his foot, from 
 some one who had entered the room without his 
 notice, and who immediately walked to the door. 
 Looking around he perceived Bridge Chree ; and 
 he was more and more surprised to observe that, 
 as if to avoid the observation of his mother, 
 who sat knitting in the window, she now winked 
 the crooked eye at him. Of late, Bridge and 
 he had been only passing civil ; for, aware as 
 he was of the honourable attachment subsisting 
 between her and his foster-brother, he sedu- 
 lously avoided any of those little romping civili- 
 ties that all his mother's maids expected of him. 
 
320 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 but that he feared might give Audy uneasiness ; 
 and he could not, therefore, but marvel at the 
 pressure and wink of the betrothed Bridge 
 Chree. As his looks followed her through the 
 door for an explanation, she winked again and. 
 again, and added an unequivocal motion of her 
 head that was plainly translatable into — "follow 
 me as fast as you can." — His late train of 
 thought now took fire, and believing, with a 
 quick spasm and sinking of the heart, that a tale 
 other than a love tale was to be communicated, 
 he hastily followed her footsteps. 
 
 Bridge, still beckoning silence with her hand, 
 led the way through the house and yard to " the 
 haggart;" and there, between two huge stacks 
 of corn, where there was scarce room to push 
 in, and where she judged they were effectually 
 screened from observation, began her story. 
 Pierce heard, with relief and wonder, the whole 
 account of Andy's journey to Sheeum-na- 
 Sheeog, and received from her hand the bottle 
 of charmed water and the sprigs of canavauji- 
 beg, accompanied by directions when and where, 
 and how to use them, and for what purpose : 
 after which, with many cautions and prayers to 
 conceal her agency from Andy Awling, Bridge 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 321 
 
 glided back to her kitchen, and left Pierce to 
 his own reflections and resolves on the strange 
 and unusual occurrence. 
 
 Night was fast falling. We do not say that 
 Pierce Shea was entirely free from the shadow 
 of the great cloud of local superstition which 
 since his infancy had hovered over him; and 
 just as far from asserting that he believed a word 
 of the promise of the fairy-man, or of what had 
 been said concerning the power and virtues of 
 the simple drop of water and the withered weed 
 he held in his hands. But, along with the 
 shattered and restless state of mind that, while 
 it deprived him of the power of calm thought 
 or reasoning, enfeebled him also, he had heard, 
 no matter how or from whom, an assurance of 
 meeting, that night, his long-lost and dearly 
 loved mistress, and this imparted a hope, or, at 
 least, an impulse that was irresistible. He re- 
 solved, even though it should prove but an act 
 of stupid absurdity, to try the charm that Bridge 
 and the sage of the hills had recommended.— 
 Danger, too, stared him in the face, from the 
 prospect of exposing himself alone, far from 
 human assistance, and in the dead hour of the 
 night, on the very spot where a recent attempt 
 had been made on his life ; but the form of 
 
 p3 
 
322 CROHOORE OF THR BILL-HOOK. 
 
 Alley again flitted before his imagination and 
 his hope, and all other considerations vanished ; 
 nor would we have the reader think so humbly 
 of Pierce Shea as to suppose mere personal 
 hazard could influence him even in such a mortal 
 debate. ' 
 
 At all events, whether he believed or doubted, 
 or whether or no he once truly debated the 
 subject — which is a doubt to us — Pierce Shea, 
 at the time prescribed, closing on midnight, 
 with only the host of frost-cleared stars witness- 
 ing his motions, stood, in the lone and distant 
 glen of Ballyfoile, on the spot where an assassin 
 had once levelled at his heart ; flung, separately, 
 the sprigs of canavaun-beg in the wind's eye, — 
 and, turning hastily round, as a faint breathing 
 seemed to arise at his back, Alley Dooling was 
 before him. 
 
 ' The figure was at rest, shewing no sign of the 
 motion that must have brought her to the spot, 
 except that her light drapery fluttered, and that 
 her bosom quickly rose and fell, like a chord 
 trembling after it had ceased to sound, or a bird 
 just perching after a frightened flight, with its 
 little plumage yet in disorder. She was pale 
 and thinner than her lover had before seen her, 
 and her eye widened and darkened, in an ex- 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 323 
 
 pression new and startling to him. Yet, under 
 this change, and only assisted by the weak star- 
 light, Pierce knew his mistress at a glance. 
 His first instinctive action, prompted by wild 
 surprise, with perhaps a dash of supernatural 
 consternation in it, was to start back, uttering 
 a low cry ; but the master-passion instantly 
 reassumed its sway ; and while the pale girl ex- 
 tended her arras, as if in reproach, they were 
 locked in a lover's embrace, a moment after. 
 
 For a considerable time, tears, alone, found 
 their way ; and during another pause they could 
 but exchange the words, — "Oh, Alley — oh. 
 Pierce !" — until, relieved by successive showers 
 of weeping. Pierce was the first to speak. 
 
 " My heart's darUng ! My own poor Alley ; — 
 how often, and in what despair, I have sought 
 this blessed meeting ; — Oh, I had no hope we 
 should ever see each other ! — and least of all 
 did I think, after all my days and nights of toil 
 and suffering, the joy was so near me!" 
 
 " My beloved Pierce/' she sobbed forth, in 
 undisguised tenderness, — " God knows whether 
 or not I wished to see you ; my poor heart wa? 
 almost broken with its early sorrows, and you 
 were not near me — you, that poor heart's only 
 remaining comfort !" 
 
324 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 " Do not think of the past, Alley ; the storm 
 is blown away ; and our future lives shall be 
 spent in the sunshine." 
 
 " Oh, heaven grant it may be possible ! — for, 
 indeed, indeed, the storm was black and bitter ; 
 — and has its cloud so surely past away ?" — 
 
 " It has, it has ; my heart bounds to tell you 
 so ; and your own, dearest Alley, should con- 
 firm the answer : — what do you mean ? — I have 
 many things, to ask you, and many things to tell 
 — but this is no place — here under the cold 
 night — let me conduct you home." 
 
 " Home, Pierce !" — and she burst into fresh 
 tears. 
 
 '' Yes, dear Alley, the home where you will 
 be welcome dearly — where I, and my mother." — 
 
 "Your mother! — but mine. Pierce, where is 
 mine !" 
 
 " Forget it, my beloved girl — forget it, for the 
 present at least — and come, now — lean on me — 
 come, come." 
 
 Alley shewed no sympton of motion, or of 
 wilUngness to accompany him, and only an- 
 swered, with her hands spread over her face — 
 " Pierce, Pierce !" 
 
 " Well, love I — speak up, dearest Alley ; and 
 quickly ; this is no place to stay in." 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 325 
 
 " I cannot — no, no, Pierce, I cannot go with 
 you !" 
 
 " Cannot ! — and now I recollect — your pre- 
 sence — the wild joy of seeing you — of holding 
 you once more to my heart — this banished all 
 other thoughts, Alley ; — but tell me ; — who sent 
 or led me here? had Sheeum-na-Sheeog any 
 thing to do with my seeing you ? — 'tis a foohsh 
 question — but had he?" — ■ 
 
 " He had, indeed." 
 
 " Astonishing! — what am I to understand ? — 
 and now you cannot let me be your conductor 
 from this wild glen ?" 
 
 " Pierce, it is impossible ; you and I must still 
 live separate." 
 
 "Must! I ask again. Alley, what can you 
 mean ? you stand beside me — my arms are round 
 you — you are unaccompanied — free to act — free 
 to make me blest or curst- — happy or mad ! and 
 yet you say we must part again?" 
 
 " I am not free to act. Pierce ; and though 
 my heart at last break while I say it — still I do 
 say we must part here — here on the very spot 
 we have met." 
 
 " We must not, by heaven ! whatever may be 
 your mystery — whoever the agents that control 
 you — spirit or mortal — man or devil — hah:" he 
 
326 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 interrupted himself as one horrible recollection 
 darkened his soul. — " Listen to me, Alley, and 
 answer me. — I have a right to ask the question 
 — you left your father's and your mother's house 
 with their bloody murderer !" 
 
 " Pierce, Pierce, spare me \" was her only 
 reply, given in a low and shuddering accent. 
 
 " If I could — if I dared, I would, J Alley ! — 
 your heart is not more riven to hear, than mine 
 to speak — but recollect it is Pierce Shea that 
 speaks, and Alley Dooling that hears — how did 
 the villain act towards you? where did he con- 
 vey you?" 
 
 She was silent. 
 
 " Do you still live with him, I say ?" 
 
 " I dare not answer you." 
 
 Echoing her words in horror and agony, he 
 untwisted her arras from his neck, held her from 
 him, looked with glaring eyes into her face, and 
 resumed in a hollow broken voice — 
 
 " Only one word more. Alley, and answer, or 
 be silent again, as you wish. — Do you refuse to 
 quit him ?" 
 
 She ivas again silent. 
 
 He continued to hold her from him, and to 
 look into her eyes, until the gradually rising 
 passion gurgled and at last shrieked in his 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 327 
 
 throat, and then, when it had gained its utmost, 
 he let her go, and with arms still extended as 
 he stept backward, exclaimed, 
 
 " Stand for yourself, then, woman ! We part 
 indeed." 
 
 " Pierce, Pierce, do not throw me from you !" 
 she sprung wildly to his neck again. 
 
 " No, no ! take your hands — your touch — 
 from my neck and me ! God, oh God ! how am 
 I requited by this girl! by her for whom my 
 heart has lain waste, my peace and life been a 
 wreck and a struggle ! whom to embrace once 
 more, pure and innocent, and faithful, was my 
 soul's only hope and effort — and now — nov/ ;" 
 the tears interrupted him ; " and now she re- 
 turns to me, a dishonored, worthless, false crea- 
 ture! No, no. Alley," he continued, turning 
 from her ; " no, no-, free me of your arras — 
 and there — there — stand for yourself, I say." 
 
 She sunk on her knees, clasped her hands, 
 and casting her eyes upward, till they were hid 
 in the sockets, and had almost cracked with the 
 straining, appealing effort. 
 
 " God, that rules in heaven !" she muttered 
 deeply ; " pity and comfort me! give me strength 
 to bear what I must bear — this, the worst of all ; 
 and, father — mother — you that are now enjoy- 
 
328 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 ing the light of glory, pray to God for your 
 miserable daughter !" 
 
 With the last word, the poor girl sank on the 
 earth, her face downward, sobbing as if she 
 craved it to open and give her rest. 
 
 An agony so utter and so touching could not 
 fail to smite the lover's heart, amid all its work- 
 ings of rage and disappointment, with hasty re- 
 morse ; he reproached himself for having been 
 too cruel and too stern ; aud now standing over 
 her, said, 
 
 " Alley, dear Alley ; dear yet, though lost to 
 me for ever— check this terrible sorrow — rise 
 up — come with me — I — Oh, I do love you still, 
 though we can never be any thing to each other 
 — but come — come to my mother's home and 
 comfort — we will spend our lives to make you 
 happy — save yourself from further woe and 
 infamy — rise and come with me." 
 
 He touched her, and she sprang up, ex- 
 claiming " No, no. Pierce, come not near me 
 — lay no hand on me — I have now to do an act 
 I could not do were your anus around me.' 
 
 She retreated from him, clapped her hands 
 loudly, and cried out, " Now ! now ! Here ! 
 here !" and Pierce found himself instantly over- 
 powered — pulled to the earth, in spite of all his 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 329 
 
 efforts — his hands tied behind his back, and his 
 feet also secured ; the rapid work of four strong 
 men, who took him unprepared for their sudden 
 and alarming attack. 
 
 " And now, Pierce," said Alley, stooping- 
 down and kissing-, as he lay on the sward, his 
 avoiding cheek — " farewell ! I am going from 
 you ; I said we should part on the spot where 
 we had met ; may we meet again, and be hap- 
 pier." 
 
 " The curse of a betrayed and broken heart 
 come between you and happiness, devil in an 
 angel's shape !" he exclaimed. 
 
 " Pierce, I forgive you ; may God forgive 
 you !" she turned and disappeared, and he sunk 
 into a horrid lethargy. 
 
 The exertions of those who had overpowered 
 him to raise him up, and bear him along on their 
 shoulders, confusedly restored his senses ; he 
 became just conscious of being hurried through 
 the glen ; but his thoughts never once turned to 
 their probable purpose or destination ; Alley 
 Dooling, lost, blasted, base, and treacherous, 
 was all he could comprehend : when — 
 
 Thwack, thwack, thwack ! came three suc- 
 cessive and tremendous blows of Andy Awling's 
 alpeen against the skulls of three of his captors, 
 
330 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 and down they fell of course ; and down came 
 Pierce Shea, of course, also : the fourth man, 
 as Andy afterwards said, "gave leg-bail, an' 
 cleared off." The deliverer pulled and tugged 
 to loose the fetters of his foster-brother; but, as 
 they were formed of tough leather straps and 
 buckles, it was some time before he succeeded : 
 and when, at last, Pierce was free, and when 
 Andy, as the next pressing consideration, 
 turned to look after the prostrate enemy, they 
 were not visible, a resurrection and a retreat 
 having taken place while he was otherwise occu- 
 pied. Then he proposed an instant pursuit. 
 
 '* No, no," groaned Pierce, " they are Alley 
 
 Dooling's friends ; and she is no matter 
 
 what — I will go home — to forget her if I can — 
 heaven pity and strengthen me ! — I will attend 
 to nothing but my business — nothing; come, 
 Andy ; my heart is cold, Andy — cold ; come 
 away." He did not afterwards open his lips. 
 
 Andy happened to be near the corn-stacks as 
 Pierce and Bridge glided between them ; natu- 
 rally curious, to say the least, he concealed him- 
 self, "handy by," and overheard the con- 
 ference ; he knew that, Pierce once in pos- 
 session of the secret, he could not prevent his 
 visit to the glen; he knew, also, the threatened 
 
CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 331 
 
 danger that awaited himself should he venture to 
 accompany him ; but something- was to be done. 
 First, then, he sought out Bridge, to scold her 
 heartily; but his recollection of the amiable 
 motive, so flattering to his vanity, that had 
 gravely govei'ned her actions, together with 
 Bridge's unbounded smiles and home argu- 
 ments, considerably turned away his anger. 
 Next, he watched the live-long night till he saw 
 Pierce set out : and the suspense and misery 
 that followed was not to be borne : he stole out 
 to his "loft," or sleeping apartment, for his 
 alpeeu ; clutched it, turned it round in his hand, 
 spit on it, and gave a jump and a shout in the 
 dark ; and then, fairy-blast or not, cripple or no 
 cripple, stole off* to Ballyfoiie ; watched at some 
 distance, Pierce and Alley ; witnessed her 
 treachery ; got sense enough, after all, to see he 
 had no fairies to deal with — though, even if he 
 bad, his alpeen would not, therefore, be now 
 more quiet ; coolly seized his proper time, and 
 rescued his foster-brother. 
 
 He rescued him, alas, but for a short time to 
 have him free : and, whatever might have been 
 the unknown fate that awaited Pierce from those 
 into whose hands Alley Dooling had delivered 
 
332 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 him, the fate for which he was reserved seemed 
 terrible as any that could befal him. 
 
 When he reached his father's home. Pierce 
 threw himself, without undressing, on his bed ; 
 his heart wretched, his mind dull and stupified, 
 and not performing- with regularity any of its 
 accustomed movements. Sleep came not, yet 
 he might be said, with regard to the functions 
 of waking life, to sleep profoundly ; and thus, 
 lying motionless, his eyes shut, and his ears in- 
 attentive, he was for some time unconscious of 
 an unusual bustle that, almost since he entered 
 his chamber, had filled the house. At last, 
 however, it reached his senses ; and he was 
 about to leap up to inquire into the cause, when 
 his father, pale and shaking, rushed into the 
 room. This sight reduced Pierce to a state of 
 stupor, worse than that from which he had just 
 roused himself; he became indifferent to the 
 voice and action of his father, who questioned 
 him on something, and urged him to do some- 
 thing ; he talked of Alley Dooling ; — and he 
 was seized by the officers of justice. The 
 sheriff of the county, assisted by a military 
 force, arrested him on a well-founded charge of 
 Whiteboyism. 
 
CROHOORK OF THR BILL-IIOOK. 333 
 
 As an electric shock restores feeling to the 
 paralyzed, this announcement brought him to 
 himself. And, as he was led forth, a guarded 
 and marked criminal, and beheld the tearless 
 horror of his father's look, and felt the des- 
 perate clinging of his aged mother, while her 
 frantic screams pierced the paternal roof; and 
 as the sobs and wailings of his poor foster- 
 brother, and the universal grief of all around 
 him, rung in his ears — a chill, death-like, by 
 anticipation, closed on Pierce's heart. One 
 poor effort he did make to bear himself like a 
 man ; but when, obeying its motion, he clasped 
 and wrung his father's hand, and on his knees 
 begged forgiveness for the culpable disobedience 
 that must now bring him to a felon's death, and 
 bow down that stricken head with sorrow and 
 with shame ; when, again and again, he returned 
 the terrible embraces of his shrieking mother ; 
 gave back Andy Houlohan's kiss ; shook hands, 
 for the last time, with all the weeping house- 
 hold ; and with lingering fondness, and in 
 wretched smiles, patted the head of the old 
 faithful mastiflf, as he cast a long look to the old 
 hearth that henceforth should never blaze for 
 him, nor be a place of simple and holy recol- 
 lections to those he left around it ; — when, in a 
 
334 CROHOORE OF THE BILL-HOOK. 
 
 convulsive struggle for resignation, he attempted 
 all this, nature refused to support him ; ie wept 
 like a child; and the " Mother, mother, do not 
 break my heart !" — " Father, forgive me, and 
 pray for me!" — and the last, last — "God be 
 with you all !" — came from a bosom overflowing 
 in bitterest anguish, and in a voice faint and 
 wailing as that of a cradled infant. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 J. HADUON, PRINTER, CASTLE STREET, FINSBDRY, 
 
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 'J-S^' 
 
 
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