BELONGS TO 
 
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 SAVILL& ROJf\ 
 
 r& Materials, H &<?. 
 J?T ON SALE. 
 
 
/ 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 From the collection of 
 
 Julius Doerner, Chicago 
 
 Purchased, 1918. 
 
 823 
 
 H73o 
 
 v. 
 
 

LIBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 
OAKLEIGH; 
 
 MINOR OF GREAT EXPECTATIONS, 
 
 BY W. H. M. HOLMES, Esq, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " LIFE IS THE WEST," &C. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 T, C. NEWBY, 65, MORTIMER St. CAVENDISH Sq. 
 1843. 
 
T. C Newby, Printer, 65, Mortimer Street Cavendish Square. 
 
13 o 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Last autumn, or in American parlance, last 
 fall, while I was returning from the wild and 
 romantic regions of the Far West, I had an 
 adventure, or rather a series of adventures, for 
 " it never rains but it pours," and for the benefit 
 or the amusement of friends, lovers, and coun- 
 trymen, T think it expedient to record my expe- 
 rience. 
 
 T had already traversed the parkish glades 
 and vales of Wisconsin, the wide and dreary 
 prairies of Illinois, the picturesque though semi- 
 barbarous Indiana, and had already entered 
 the northern part of Ohio, when my gallant 
 steed, unused to the roughness of the corderoy 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
 800618 
 
V INTRODUCTION. 
 
 roads,began to shew symptoms of distress, I there- 
 fore dismounted and marched before my horse, 
 while he followed me with all the docility of a 
 faithful dog; the country was densely wooded, 
 and the log cabins of settlers or squatters, few and 
 far between, were neither sufficiently inviting 
 or attractive to induce me to halt at their doors ; 
 in hourly expectation of finding something like 
 an hotel or shingle palace in the wilderness, I 
 marched on regardless of time and place, till 
 the sun went down in the woods and left " the 
 world to darkness and to me." 
 
 I am too old a traveller to be taken by sur- 
 prise by any such contretemps. To continue 
 blundering along the road in the dark was out 
 of the question, I therefore looked right and 
 left for a moment, and instead of putting up at 
 the oak or the elm — threw down my blanket and 
 took up my quarters under the goodly bed-posts 
 of a hickory tree. Having unsaddled, rubbed 
 down and secured my horse, I collected some 
 brush-wood, struck a light, raised a fire, smoked 
 
INTRODUCTION. 3 
 
 my tomahawk pipe to keep off the marsh miasma 
 « — and seated, Indian-wise, with my .blanket 
 round my shoulders, and moccasins turned to- 
 wards the fire, I listened to the concert the bull- 
 frogs were performing in a neighbouring swamp, 
 disagreeably mingled with the shrill pipings of 
 the musquitoes over my head, while the hickory 
 nuts and beech-mast came pattering down on 
 all sides as the squirrels raced about the 
 branches over my head, as if profiting by thi 
 light of my fire they continued their labours; 
 while ever and anon a loud crash proclaimed 
 that some sylvan monarch of the woods, full of 
 years and leafy honours, had fallen beneath the 
 insidious tooth of Time, maiming and destroy- 
 ing all within the sweep of his arms. 
 
 Knowing that I was at least safe from the un- 
 welcome visitation of a falling tree, and soothed 
 by the monotonous recitative of the bull-frogs 
 and a whip-poor-will, I soon fell asleep — but my 
 sleep was troubled with wild and fitful dreams — 
 prairies on fire seemed blazing around me — 
 
4 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 wounded bisons bellowed in my ear — a grisly 
 bear wished to give me a loving squeeze in his 
 hairy arms — " a change came o'er the spirit of my 
 dreams" — I awoke with a start — an equinoctial 
 gale — a storm was raging with all its fury — trees 
 and branches were falling and crashing away in 
 every direction, while a spark blown from my 
 now extinguished fire had set a neighbouring 
 thicket in a blaze — broad and vivid flashes of 
 lightning seemed to lay bare the inmost recesses 
 of the wood, while stunning peals of thunder 
 rolled through the wilds— the voice of the tem- 
 pest and crashing of the forest being lost in the 
 roar of Heaven's artillery; during a pause or 
 lull in the storm, while the rain descended in 
 torrents, I heard a shout and wild halloo, and 
 bending down my head to listen more atten- 
 tively, heard footsteps approaching— looked up, 
 beheld the tall gaunt figure of a Backwoods- 
 man, rifle in hand, striding towards me. 
 
 " A wild night this for camping out, I guess," 
 exclaimed my visitor. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 5 
 
 I assented,— and he continued, " Saw your 
 light, stranger, and cross'd the creek to get a 
 smoke with you. You seem to sit very far from 
 your fire." And the hunter, for such his leathern 
 garments and belts, &c. bespoke him to be, strode 
 over to the smouldering thicket; while I looked 
 round for my horse— I looked, but looked in 
 vain. 
 
 " Where is my horse ?" I exclaimed, some- 
 what angrily. 
 
 « Why, had you a horse ?" responded the grim 
 hunter, leaning on his rifle. 
 
 At first I thought it impossible, and could not 
 realise the calamity that had befallen me. 
 
 " My horse lost — he cannot be lost," I ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 M Well, if he's not lost, he's stolen — loan'd or 
 stray 'd, — and there is no great difference I calcu- 
 late," said the old smoker, in such a peculiarly 
 drawling and nasal tone, that my ire was aroused, 
 and I all but charged him with being accessary 
 to the stealing, loaning, or driving away of my 
 
6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 poor steed, and being sorely vexed poured forth 
 a hasty lamentation, only to be compared to 
 Sancho Panza's upon the loss of his ass Dap- 
 ple. I called to mind his enduring qualities — ' 
 the docility, the bravery of my Indian steed — 
 how we had sustained the furious charge of bull 
 bisons together — how buoyantly he had borne 
 me over the wild and trackless prairies — how 
 fervently the Red Chief of the Crow warriors 
 had protested that I was the only pale face unto 
 whom he would entrust his desert-born Moko- 
 temiche kee-kee, or Black Hawk, so named 
 after the last Indian hero of the Far West. 
 
 The Backwoods-man calmly listened to my 
 vehement and somewhat incoherent speeches, 
 and when I paused, coolly observed— 
 " Well, I guess you had a horse." 
 And to this shrewd guess I was indebted to 
 the circumstantial evidence of a pair of saddle- 
 bags, which he touched with the butt of his rifle, 
 as he asked me to shoulder my pack, and follow 
 him home to his house. With a very bad grace 
 
INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 I accepted his rude invitation, and gathering up 
 my traps, followed him through the woods. Now 
 almost blinded by the sudden glare of the 
 lightning, anon tumbling over logs and branches, 
 inwardly banning the woods and my evil genius, 
 as I toiled after my leader, till he put his hand 
 to his mouth and favoured me with a most un- 
 earthly yell, or view-halloo, and discharged his 
 rifle in the air. 
 
 A bright light flashed before us, towards which 
 we picked our steps over a rude log-bridge and 
 causeway to the wide door of a large frame- 
 house, into which I gladly followed my guide. 
 
 " I say, old woman, here's a stranger I picked 
 up in a considerable bad fix, near the Tamarack 
 Swamp," said the hunter, whom I may now call 
 my host, as he suddenly saluted, in his uncouth 
 way, a tall, sharp-visaged, high-shouldered old 
 dame, who came forward to meet us, mechani- 
 cally knitting the leg of a very coarse stocking. 
 
 " My !" ejaculated this lady. And — 
 
 " My!" ejaculated a pretty dark-eyed, nut- 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 brown girl of sixteen, as she held up a light with 
 one hand, while with the other she relieved the 
 old hunter, I mean my host, of a string of par- 
 tridge and a wild turkey that dangled from his 
 belt. 
 
 " There, there, take belt and all," said my 
 host, familiarly chucking the girl under the 
 chin, — and *' Ruth, my daughter, fly round and 
 let us have some supper, for we are hungry as 
 catamounts, or wolves — Ho, stranger, sit down, 
 sir, by the fire : pull right off your long wet 
 leggins and moccasins. Nay, never be down- 
 hearted man about the loss of an old horse ; 
 cheer up, sir, may be I'll loan you my Bolivar 
 for a consideration " 
 
 " No, you car'nt though, Eldred Rile, I say 
 unto thee," chimed in the hostess, as she got up 
 some plain doings at the stove. " Bolivar is 
 loaned right away by Sy. Hackman, to look 
 after his team of oxen, and the Van Renseller's 
 red cow." 
 
 Wet, weary, and dispirited as I was, I made 
 
INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 an effort to answer my host in his own style ; 
 briefly narrated as much of my own history as 
 satisfied his curiosity, and seated at the well- 
 spread board, did ample justice to the homely 
 fare, which my hostess set before me ; while that 
 hoydenish young beauty of the woods, Miss 
 Ruth — like Canova's Hebe, almost bursting out 
 of her boddice — flitted to and fro with a goodly 
 pitcher in her fair hands, from which she reple- 
 nished our cups, with that nectar of the Back- 
 woods, vulgarly called hard cider. 
 
 " You seem to have a capital old house," said 
 I to my host, as we smoked a pipe of peace by 
 the fire. 
 
 " Well, you'll say so when you see it in the 
 sun-light,' , he responded with a self-satisfied 
 chuckle. " The neighbours call it the Mansion- 
 house. You see it was built by an Old Country- 
 man, and that's the reason the walls are plas- 
 tered off so slick, and all this here gimcrackery 
 work and carving about the chimney, and the 
 doors and windows ; but its a caution to see how 
 b 2 
 
10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 those Old Country-folks use up money, and nails, 
 and white paint, when they fall building in the 
 woods." 
 
 Having partly heard, and partly guessed that 
 my host was a New-Englander, and that he had 
 purchased his house and section from an Old 
 Country-man, I was shewn into a comfortable 
 bed-room, threw myself upon a little mountain 
 of down and blankets, and soon forgot the perils 
 and dangers to which I had so recently been 
 exposed in the wilderness. — 
 
 " Some folks sleep longer than others, and 
 some sleep from July to eternity. Do you intend 
 to lay a bed all day, old man?" said my hos- 
 tess, as she stood at my bed-room door, looking 
 rather earnestly, as I made sundry abortive 
 efforts to sit up in my bed, and as often sank 
 back on the pillow. 
 
 " Why, what ails the man !" exclaimed the 
 old dame, advancing a step into the chamber. 
 " He looks so skeered and deathly-like in the 
 face." 
 
INTRODUCTION. 1 i 
 
 " My !" ejaculated her daughter, elevating 
 her dark eyebrows, and white little hands, as she 
 peered over her mother's shoulder. 
 
 " I believe — I — I — be — '' I began to mutter, 
 stammer, and stutter, as my teeth rattled away 
 like a pair of castanets. 
 
 " Well, be quiet man — don't distress yourself 
 — for it can't be help'd — no use in talking now — 
 you have got the fever and ague I calculate — I 
 say, Ruth, don't you stand gaping there, looking 
 as wild as if you had swallowed a wild cat — go 
 make some tea — hot mush and molasses, with a 
 candle- snuff in it, it is first rate for the ague/' — 
 and the old dame began to shake up the pillows, 
 and arrange the coverlet and blankets, with her 
 own hands, uttering sage maxims, and homely 
 recipes the while, and finally leaving me in the 
 slough of despond, chattering away in a cold fit 
 of ague. 
 
 Then came my host, Eldred Rile, to condole 
 with me in his rude way. 
 
 M Well, stranger, you're fairly treed,— regularly 
 
T2 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 rumsquaddled — roundly besquistered I hear — 
 but it's a caution how I suffered with this same 
 fever and ager, when I came down here from 
 the green mountains of Vermont, for I believe as 
 how I told you I am a real Green-mountain boy, 
 — when I first pull'd up stakes, and came into 
 these here foundations, I was laid up cruel bad 
 — I sware, it was nearly gone goose with me — 
 but the old woman drove the doctors out and 
 took me in hand herself —and I'll back her any 
 day against Azriel Scath, doctor and physician, 
 bred man though he be, at raising man, woman, 
 or child, from any Backwood or country sick- 
 ness, and all by the yarbs and the sperience— - 
 so be quiet, stranger, put your trust in my old 
 woman, and follow her directions— while I fly 
 round a bit, and look for your critter (horse) in 
 the woods." 
 
 The old woman, or my respected hostess, now 
 took me in hand, and dosed me and drenched me 
 with her yarb tea, and willow-bark decoctions, 
 with such unremitting assiduity, that at the end of 
 
INTRODUCTION. 13 
 
 the fourth day the fever subsided ; and though 
 I felt indescribably weak, wretched, and mise- 
 rable, my hostess went about the house, snapping 
 her fingers in triumph, as she announced the 
 important fact, that she had broken the ager. 
 
 Nevertheless I recovered but slowly ; and for 
 some days paced the narrow limits of my cham- 
 ber with tottering steps, till my hostess suggested 
 that I might safely venture into her little par- 
 lour, the door of which opened into my bed- 
 room ; and the stove being lighted up, I forth- 
 with took possession of the prettiest little boudoir 
 I have ever seen either at home or abroad. 
 From the Gothic windows of which I enjoyed a 
 wider and far more pleasing prospect of sylvan 
 scenery than I had anticipated. 
 
 A large garden laid out in English style, with 
 its little summer-house covered with creepers, 
 going to decay, attracted my attention outside ; 
 while the water-colour drawings, framed in the 
 dark oak panels of the wainscotting, remained 
 a pleasing reminiscence of the artistical demon- 
 
14 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 strations of departed genius — mingled somewhat 
 incongruously with the glowing and homespun 
 portraits of the heroes of the Revolution, elabo* 
 rately worked in worsted and canvas, by the 
 fair fingers of the gentle Hebe Rile ; while the 
 good man of the house, or some rustic admirer, 
 had added his mite to the decorations of this 
 recherche boudoir in the shape of an owl's-wing 
 fan and a stuffed otter. The water-colour 
 drawings were somewhat faded ; but I soon dis- 
 covered they were intended to represent a series 
 of singular and striking adventures on " flood 
 and field," but who the actors were remained a 
 mystery. The landscape scenery was decidedly 
 European, and mountainous ; but what part of 
 Europe I could not divine. There were horse- 
 men exchanging shrewd blows — disconsolate 
 damsels clinging to cavaliers, flying in hot haste 
 " o'er brake and o'er brae ;" but the next picture 
 would represent a stiff and formal quaker coolly 
 transacting business with a band of pirates. — 
 Anon, there was a battle-field, soldiers drawn 
 
INTRODUCTION. 15 
 
 up in lines, and an officer bearing a flag of 
 truce — figures on a wild sea-shore, and ships 
 looming along a stormy sea. 
 
 I could make nothing of all this, and my fair 
 minister, Hebe, only knew that the drawings 
 had been just where they were as long as she 
 could remember ; that her brother Joel, before 
 he went down south to do business in Mesopo- 
 tamia on the Iron Banks, had torn out one of 
 the drawings to see if there was any writing on 
 the back of it, but finding there was nothing he 
 glued it back again to the boards. 
 
 I had not seen my host for several days ; — he 
 had not succeeded in finding my horse, and had 
 gone to the assizes or sessions at the next town, 
 some fifty miles off. The weather was not 
 merely gloomy, but unusually severe ; and, not- 
 withstanding all the comforts with which I was 
 surrounded, I was devoured with ennui — listened 
 with impatience to the thrice-told tales of my 
 kind hostess — and listened to the hoydenish 
 Hebe's careless ringing over and over again, 
 
16 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 " Some love to roam," and "Farewell to thee, 
 Arabies daughter," — till I wished her songs be- 
 neath Oman's blue water. 
 
 " Now, Miss Hebe, do for pity sake spare 
 your harmonious voice ; you'll crack it, girl. 
 Come here and sit down, and tell me — " 
 
 " My name 's not Hebe, sir," retorted the 
 little beauty, tossing her head, "my name's 
 Ruth— Ruth Ryal, or Ryle." 
 
 " Well, if you insist on being Ruth, I'll be 
 Boaz ; and as Ruth and Boaz of old w r ere — " 
 
 " My ! if mother heard you speaking in this 
 awful scriptural way, with one foot in the 
 grave." 
 
 " True, my sweet Hebe ; I'll be silent on the 
 subject. But do tell me, have you no more 
 books in the house ? I am a peaceably disposed 
 man, and yet three times have I waded through 
 the Revolutionary Wars; with the sayings and 
 doings of Dr. Franklin I am more minutely ac- 
 quainted than with those of my own grandfather ; 
 the odd number of Knickerbocker is no longer 
 
INTRODUCTION. 17 
 
 an oddity • and the Dollar Magazine is at my 
 finger ends." 
 
 " Well, there's no more books, I believe," 
 said Hebe, musing a little, "but there is a box 
 of old newspapers in father's bed-room, and 
 father never lets any one open it, though it has 
 no lock ; because, he says, the man he bought 
 this place from left that box in his care long — 
 long ago — and never came back to look for it. 
 He went away with his family into the Far West, 
 and forgot all about it, I reckon." 
 
 u No doubt about that. At all events, Hebe, 
 old newspapers are not of such extreme value 
 and great importance, and — " 
 
 " Nor shall Iran, beloved of her people, forget 
 thee," carolled Hebe, as she tripped out of the 
 room. 
 
 " A most provoking and perplexing little girl," 
 said I to myself, as I resumed the battle of 
 York Town. 
 
 Nevertheless the old newspapers, so long 
 slighted, flitted before my eyes all night long ; 
 
18 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and I determined, coute qv!ll coute, to overhaul 
 them. At first Hebe flatly refused to aid and 
 abet in the newspaper rummaging plot. What 
 would her father say ? In truth, I cared not 
 what he said — I did not mean to carry away 
 such treasure — and finally prevailed upon Hebe 
 to let me peep into the box while old Mother 
 Rile was culling yarbs and simples in the 
 garden. 
 
 The box, or old leathern trunk, was pulled 
 from under the cupboard — opened — old news- 
 papers, musty and fusty, tossed out and tumbled 
 back again, very much to my discomfiture and 
 Hebe's amusement. 
 
 " And this is a roll of French papers, I sup- 
 pose,'' said Hebe, reading slowly, " Le Journal 
 de— de-" 
 
 " Shew it me," said f, catching the roll from 
 her hands, and giving her an old packet of 
 Philadelphia papers in exchange. 
 
 But judge of my surprise, my joy and delight, 
 when I found the French Journal merely co- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 19 
 
 vered a roll of closely written manuscripts of no 
 mean size. 
 
 I made a hasty retreat to my own corner with 
 my prize, followed by Hebe, who insisted on 
 satisfying her curiosity ; and before I could 
 object to it, snatched the manuscripts from me, 
 exclaiming, 
 
 " Put up your spectacles again, old man. 
 Mother says reading is very bad for the eyes, 
 when one's only recovering from fever and ague. 
 So sit down, sir, and do behave yourself; and 
 I'll read this writing to you if it amuses me and 
 1 like it." 
 
 " As you like it, my dear," was my quiet 
 response. 
 
 And the petulant little beauty, pushing back 
 the heavy dark ringlets from her glowing cheeks 
 with both hands, pored over the old manuscript 
 as itjay in her lap. She sat on a low chair, 
 with her back to the Gothic window, and in a 
 sweet sotto voce tone read as follows : 
 
OAK LEIGH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "Treating of matters which he who reads will see, and 
 
 he who hears them read will hear." — Don Quixote. 
 
 The morning of my life is lighted up with few 
 pleasurable remembrances ; I have no pleasing 
 reminiscence of parents and home to look back 
 upon ; my school-boy days — the dreariest waste 
 in the eventful journey of my life. — When I hear 
 men say the happiest days of their lives were 
 spent at school, my suspicions are aroused, and 
 I wonder what sort of diabolical, slavish existence 
 
22 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 they nave been dragging on through the summer 
 of their days ; — nevertheless, I must dwell upon my 
 school-boy days for a while : — My school-master 
 — " a man he was severe and stern to view" 
 — reigned despotic in a large though private 
 academy in Somersetshire : cold and strict, his 
 word was a law, his rebuke — galling and terrible 
 to bear — infinitely more dreaded by his pupils 
 than any corporeal punishment he inflicted ; 
 years reconciled me not to the strict rules of the 
 academy ; and if 1 lagged along the flowery path 
 of knowledge, I galloped and careered before all 
 my school-fellows upon the forbidden and slip- 
 pery paths of folly. Twice, and sometimes 
 thrice every year I was left alone, sole denizen 
 of empty school-rooms and deserted dormitories. 
 My school-fellows went home to their parents 
 and friends every vacation, but I remained be- 
 hind, cribbed and cabined up within the gloomy 
 walls of that grim Bastile ; my young spirit was 
 subdued, but not broken : and more than once I 
 burst forth from my solitude, — walked away from 
 
OAKLEIGH. 23 
 
 the drear " academa's sacred shades" — roamed 
 over the downs, and breathed the free air of 
 heaven ; I went I knew not, I cared not, whither ; 
 I had formed no plan — was pursued, and of course 
 overtaken, brought back, rebuked, smote, and 
 reconsigned to the desolate school-rooms till my 
 play- fellows returned ; — and again I led the ma- 
 rauding party through the orchards, or stormed 
 the hen-roost — loaded and fired off the water- 
 pipe, and converted the chimney-pots into pata- 
 reroes ; when another breaking-up day was gladly 
 proclaimed : and as often as I achieved any of 
 those exploits, my school-fellows rewarded me 
 with hearty cheers — especially on one occasion, 
 when I did battle with a parlour-boarder twice my 
 age ; a fine gentleman, who came to school and 
 went away home in a barouche and four. The 
 supercilious dandy said I never went home, like 
 other boys, because I was a bastard : my reply was 
 short, — doubling my fist, I knocked two long 
 buck teeth out of his mouth, and thereby consi- 
 
24 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 derably improved his beauty: his mother thought 
 otherwise, and I was severely punished. 
 
 " Oakleigh, you are an enigma to me ; of all 
 the boys I ever had under my roof, I cannot un- 
 riddle you," was the usual preface to the admo- 
 nitory addresses of my pedagogue. " I know 
 little or nothing about your birth or parentage," 
 was also his unsatisfactory reply to my frequent 
 questions and efforts to gain information on that 
 subject. But as I grew up towards man's estate, 
 I became more urgent and pressing on that head, 
 and, for peace sake, was referred to my guar- 
 dian ; — wrote to him letter after letter in vain — 
 my queries were disregarded. 
 
 But a brighter day was at hand, and with a 
 glad heart I prepared to quit for ever the peda- 
 gogue and his academy. Our parting was as 
 cold and characteristic as ever ; an admonitory 
 address — an assurance that the riddle had not 
 yet been solved, and some dry comments upon 
 my guardian's last letter, were the last words 
 
 
 
OAKLEIGH. 25 
 
 spoken by the reverend master to his promising 
 pupil. 
 
 " Your guardian has not consulted me," said 
 he, " relative to your future prospects, and as to 
 your course of life and first step in the world, 
 we differ in toto. — (Doctors differ, thought I.) 
 I suggested you should adopt a profession — at 
 least receive a university education ; your guar- 
 dian says he wishes you to be cloistered up no 
 longer, but to go forth into the world —travel for 
 a year or two on the continent — study men and 
 manners, and return to him a polished gentle- 
 man. In fact, I suppose you are heir to a very 
 large fortune; but be that as it may, I think 
 your guardian's plan is somewhat hazardous : 
 being now in your seventeenth year, you are old 
 enough to judge for yourself." 
 
 My old master's words had a singularly sof- 
 tening effect upon me ; I was little used to any- 
 thing like sympathy or kind words, and left him 
 in the "melting mood ;" setting out upon my 
 travels with a heart and a purse so full, that I 
 vol. i. c 
 
26 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 thought I could never relieve myself from the 
 onerous burdens. I read my guardian's singular 
 epistle at least one hundred times ; it was written 
 in a stiff, crabbed hand — brief, short, and to the 
 purpose. He bade me write to him from Paris, 
 in which city I was to remain till I had a good 
 knowledge of the French language ; then he 
 would forward letters, which would enable me to 
 be presented at court ; and that ceremony being 
 performed, I was to visit Madrid, Rome, Flo- 
 rence, Naples, Vienna, St. Petersburgh, and 
 Berlin ; and letters of credit would be regularly 
 forwarded to me while I was making the Grand 
 
 Tour. 
 
 ******* 
 
 " And I'm bless'd, but here is a blank — a 
 page or two torn right out," exclaimed Hebe, 
 turning the manuscript from right to left: a 
 short examination ensued, and my fair reader, 
 seeing the missing pages were not forthcoming, 
 resumed the manuscript, and continued to read 
 in a discontented voice. — 
 
OAKLEIGH. 27 
 
 A year — aye, a long year, have I been roam- 
 ing about the continent without any object — 
 without any end in view, save sight- seeing : pic- 
 tures, statues, cities, churches, ruins, flash before 
 my wearied gaze, daily ; I long for some fixed 
 rallying ground — some spot — some point round 
 which I may turn, in wider or narrower circles 
 and gyrations ; at present I am little better than 
 a disjointed member of society — alone in the 
 crowd. What boots it if I hear the Italians 
 laugh, the French sing, or the Spaniards speak 
 loftily around me, — I am not of them ; yet being 
 somewhat gregarious, must attach myself to 
 some herd — some body of men, and take my 
 part in the great drama of life. And yet me- 
 thinks it is something to say my foot hath 
 stamped upon the Alpine snows — my eyes have 
 seen strange sights — the pomp and power of 
 kings, and works of art that have survived the 
 wreck of ages. France, Spain, and Italy, like 
 bright day-dreams, have passed away before me. 
 
28 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 Now to Germany, the splendid patchwork of 
 principalities — the giant manufactory of young 
 kings, I haste. 
 
 ******* 
 
 K Another blank," exclaimed Hebe, throwing 
 down the manuscript. 
 
 " Patience, my dear girl," I remonstrated, — 
 " we must only take what we are given, and be 
 thankful : read on — skip over the blanks, and 
 thus we may contrive to keep pace with this 
 active young gentleman." 
 
 ******* 
 
 I have seen the Lions of Germany, and fallen 
 in with a goodly company of gentlemen ; at first 
 I thought they were highwaymen, — their gro- 
 tesque caps, short jerkins, thigh-boots, long 
 cloaks, sweeping rapiers, buff belts, and grim 
 mustachios, deceived me ; they smoke clumsy 
 Meerschaums, drink Rhine wine like water, 
 swear bravely in High Dutch, and roar brave 
 songs together: — they invite me to join their 
 
OAKLEIGH. 29 
 
 party, and prove to be students bound for Got- 
 tingen; —my cash runs low — a pis aller, I'll go 
 
 to Gottingen. 
 
 ******* 
 
 a - Well, thank goodness, we have him now 
 surely fixed for a while," said Hebe, looking up 
 with a smile, which was quickly chased from her 
 fair face by a frown, when, turning a leaf, she 
 found some German verses, to her perfectly ille- 
 gible — a string of ballads as sung at the Uni- 
 versity in praise of Rhine wine, blue eyes, and 
 tobacco smoke; and passing lightly over the 
 same, we stumbled upon English ground, or 
 words, once more, and went on swimmingly 
 
 " No, my dear Karl von Reightner, I will not 
 trespass upon your generosity — I will not accept 
 of money, when I know not how I can repay it. 
 You urge me to write to you, mine JBruder, my 
 friend ; you must be obeyed. — I will not trouble 
 you with the wearisome details of my journey, 
 
30 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 nor speak of the perils and dangers of a tem- 
 pestuous sea voyage; — no, my friend, it is 
 enough for you to know that I landed, safe and 
 sound, not indeed on the shores of my native 
 land, but on that of the Sister Isle, called Ire- 
 land, where my guardian resides ; and to find 
 out that obdurate person is a matter of the most 
 vital importance. " 
 
 Bidding a hasty farewell to my quondam 
 companions of the voyage, and the captain of 
 the packet, I threaded my way through the 
 unsavoury streets of Dublin, to the hotel from 
 which my guardian's last letter haS been dated, 
 and there I heard some tidings of him : he was 
 not at home, and I bestowed my last splendid 
 shilling upon the waiter, who volunteered to 
 lead me to the feet of my guardian. " He is up 
 stairs," said my guide, pausing before the door 
 of a dilapidated brick-house ; and then added, 
 somewhat mysteriously — " Don't tell him who 
 shewed you the way, Sir; I found it out by 
 chance myself ; — and he has such a temper." 
 
OAKLEIGH. 31 
 
 It was too late to hesitate ; the door was a-jar — 
 I entered a dismal hall — ascended a staircase — 
 not a soul did I see — the waiter had retreated. 
 I paused on a lobby for an instant, and then 
 walked right into a large sort of reception-room, 
 and was not a little relieved to find it tenantless ; 
 the walls were adorned with oil paintings — por- 
 traits of all sorts and sizes — of the modern 
 school : in one corner reposed a broken easel, in 
 another lay the debris of a huge picture frame ; 
 over the mantel-piece hung a pair of foils, a 
 wire mask, and the portrait of a gallant soldier 
 in a full-bottomed wig. Scanning hastily what 
 I supposed to be the glass door of a cupboard or 
 bookcase, I found a door partially covered with 
 torn green silk ; a glance sufficed — within that 
 curtain I discovered that sanctum sanctorum of 
 the arts — a painter's studio. 
 
 The Artist, a short, fat, consequential little 
 man, upon whose honoured head some forty 
 summers had spent their fury, attired in his dirty 
 
32 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 and artistical blouse, was at work upon a full 
 length portrait of a gentleman, who was seated 
 in a good light upon a high backed oaken chair ; 
 he was an austere, long visaged person, dressed 
 in an antiquated court suit of sad coloured 
 French velvet — a new black wig was not exactly 
 in keeping with a pair of grey bushy eyebrows — 
 and a pair of flesh-coloured silk stockings clung 
 so naturally to his spindle shanks, that I sup- 
 posed the sitter wished to have the beauty of his 
 naked legs handed down to posterity in paint 
 and varnish ; the precise age of this old beau 
 could not be ascertained at a first glance, he had 
 evidently bestowed no small portion of his time at 
 his toilet ; so that between rouged cheeks, black 
 patches, black wig, grey eye-brows, grog blos- 
 som carbuncles, and the imperfect registry of 
 birth, I question if even the Artist, or that re- 
 spected individual, the oldest inhabitant, could 
 discover how many lustres his sitter had already 
 counted. , 
 
OAKLEIGH. 33 
 
 " I must say the cheeks are too plump and 
 too juvenile for mine," said the sitter in a pecu- 
 liarly harsh and unpleasing voice. 
 
 " Never pronounce sentence, sir, upon half 
 finished work," was the Artist's response, " when 
 the back-ground is dash'd off, and the mellow 
 tints rubbed in, then the portrait will speak for 
 itself," said the Artist, taking up fresh colour 
 and brushing away, and occasionally entertaining 
 his patient with idle tittle-tattle and gossip of 
 the town ; and anon he began to inveigh in no 
 very measured terms against the apathy of the 
 age, and the slights and neglect of the world ; 
 it was not every artist could boast of such high 
 patronage as he could, yet beshrew him if he 
 could make both ends meet. 
 
 " Your eye upon mine for a moment, Sir 
 Carnaby — there, I think I caught the fire, the 
 glance, the expression — to this portrait your 
 children will proudly point." 
 
 " Who told you I had children, sir ! ! ! " 
 
 i( I beg pardon, Sir Carnaby, I had sup- 
 c 2 
 
34 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 posed it was for posterity — for your amiable 
 Lady " 
 
 " No, Sir, thank the fates, I have neither 
 Lady nor yet children to plague me. This por- 
 trait is a mere whim, a mere whim — and the 
 sooner it is finished the better." 
 
 This little dialogue opened my eyes, and for 
 the first time I learnt that Sir Carnaby Rohan, 
 the sitter, my respected guardian, lived in single 
 blessedness. I felt the awkwardness of my pre- 
 dicament so much that I was on the point of 
 walking into the studio, when the conversation, 
 which had been dropped rather coolly, was re- 
 sumed by the Artist, who inquired upon which 
 knee the dog should repose his head ; to this Sir 
 Carnaby declared he did not see the necessity 
 for the dog's head actually reposing upon either 
 of his knees. But the Artist vehemently pro- 
 tested he could not imagine anything — he copied 
 nature as it was, even to the folding of a dog's 
 ear, or the wrinkles of a Dowager's chin. 
 
 M I wish I had brought my own dog up to 
 
OAKLEIGH. 35 
 
 town with me," said Sir Carnaby, with some 
 asperity, " this dog you have procured, or hired, 
 resembles a huge mastiff or bull-dog, more than 
 the generous Irish wolf-dog." 
 
 " Nevertheless, this dog has a very good head, 
 and will answer our purpose very well ; speak to 
 him, Sir Carnaby," said the Artist, " coax him, 
 Sir — Thomas, let go the chain, I'll answer for 
 the dog's good behaviour." 
 
 This last remark was made by the Artist to 
 a ragged boy who now emerged from a corner 
 leading a huge and savage looking butcher's dog, 
 looking just as ill at ease and perplexed as his 
 ragged keeper. 
 
 " Now, Sir Carnaby, coax him, Sir," said the 
 painter, as pointing with his rest-stick, he directed 
 the grouping of his figures with some impatience 
 — Sir Carnaby shrinking from the dog, the dog 
 turning away his head from the Artist, and 
 throwing himself at full length upon the carpet. 
 
 " Was there ever such a dirty obstinate brute," 
 exclaimed the Artist, t: stir him up, boy — kick 
 
36 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 the lazy brute into a decent position at least," — 
 and he began to punch the dog's ribs with his 
 rest-stick, a piece of familiarity he had reason to 
 repent of, when the angry and indignant brute 
 springing up with a loud bark, attacked the 
 Artist, who fled for protection behind the pic- 
 ture, from one side of which he had the temerity 
 to strike at the enraged animal with the afore- 
 said rest-stick, till suddenly it snapped in twain, 
 and in the twinkling of a bed-post the portrait 
 that was to speak for itself was scraped, defaced, 
 and torn by the teeth and paws of his exasperated 
 assailant; to save his precious legs from injury, 
 likewise, Sir Carnaby threw them up in the air 
 with a sudden jerk, thereby losing his equili- 
 brium, and upsetting the high backed chair, he 
 fell with a crash upon a lay figure and heap of 
 picture frames, shouting help, murder, &c. I 
 caught up a poker and run to the rescue — the 
 moment I opened the door the dog darted 
 through it, and escaped down the stairs, followed 
 by his ragged keeper. 1 hastened to restore the 
 
OAKLEIGH. 37 
 
 ireful Baronet to his equilibrium, and being on 
 his legs again, he began to exclaim, " A mira- 
 culous escape — the dog is mad." 
 
 " No doubt of that — oh, hang him — curse the 
 brute, the savage," roared the painter, as he 
 contemplated the scene before him. 
 
 " See, he has torn your cheek." 
 
 " Has he, by !" exclaimed the Baronet, 
 
 clapping his hand on his face. 
 
 44 The picture, I mean," said the Artist in 
 despair. 
 
 44 Oh, hang the picture," exclaimed Sir Car- 
 naby. 
 
 44 I must finish it first though," said the 
 painter. 
 
 " Were you looking for me, sir?" continued 
 he, turning tome. 
 
 I replied I was not, — I was seeking for my 
 guardian. 
 
 44 And who the devil is he?" said the painter, 
 somewhat pettishly. 
 
 <4 Sir Carnaby Rohan," I replied. 
 
38 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 " This is no time for jesting," said the Baronet 
 sternly; " who has dared to intrude upon my 
 privacy — " 
 
 " Eustace Oakleigh, your most obedient 
 ward," I responded, with a low salaam. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 " You have lost a year, you have sacrificed 
 twelve months of your existence." 
 
 " I may venture to assert you are mistaken, 
 Sir Carnaby." 
 
 " Oh, your most obedient servant, Mynheer 
 Eustace Oakleigh, student of Gottingen ; prove 
 that a year spent in smoking meerschaums, drink- 
 ing Rhine wine, wielding the broad- sword, and 
 reading romances is not recklessly, wantonly, 
 and irrevocably lost to you and your heirs for 
 ever, and I submit " 
 
40 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 " I am not vain enough to boast of my ac- 
 quirements, but the letter of Professor Von 
 Kloppe nhaupt " 
 
 " I'll not read, because it is written in High 
 Dutch. No, no, Master Oakleigh, I am a plain 
 man, sixty long years of dear-bought experience, 
 has given me an insight into human nature, and 
 a stock of common sense, which I would not 
 exchange for all the musty lore, High Dutch 
 and Low Dutch, in a professor's cranium — '' 
 
 "£>te %rtur tft Uz S5e(!e gefjrerinm" 
 
 " You yield, you submit, beaten from English 
 ground and sound argument; you do well to 
 retreat into the Babel of unknown tongues/' 
 
 u I merely observed, sir, that nature is the 
 best instructress " 
 
 " I don't care what you observed, speak plain 
 English, or I'll match you. Yes, I'll answer you 
 in Irish." 
 
 " I wish to learn that language, and with your 
 assistance, hope " 
 
OAKLEIGH. 41 
 
 sc My assistance, forsooth ! an active magis- 
 trate and landholder, in a disturbed district, 
 is better employed than teaching Irish to a 
 German student. No, sir, I am serious, the 
 money which I sent you has been misapplied, 
 my advice rejected, commands broken, time 
 wasted — but the carriage is at the door, are you 
 ready ? *' 
 
 " 5<* tt>of)l — I beg pardon, I mean " 
 
 " Monnin JDoul! We are even now, young 
 gentleman," exclaimed Sir Carnaby, jumping 
 into his antiquated travelling carriage, while 
 I followed his example, with a very bad 
 grace. 
 
 In fact, my dear Karl, the ridiculous position 
 in which I discovered the Baronet at the artist's 
 still rankled in his mind; it was an awkward 
 introduction I admit, and not the first predica- 
 ment into which my hot and ill judged ardour 
 had plunged me. Had I waited patiently at the 
 Brazen Head, the name of the hotel, par excel- 
 
42 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 lence^ at which my guardian put up his horses — 
 but a truce to regrets, we rattled along the 
 southern road in silence, not a word did the 
 Baronet address to me, — though his tongue was 
 not altogether idle, he abused his coachmen and 
 his servants — sometimes they drove too fast and 
 would kill his horses — other times too slow — he 
 would wager they were in league with a band of 
 robbers — indeed he was well prepared for the 
 latter, having a loaded blunderbuss in the gun- 
 case at his back, and a brace of horse-pistols in 
 each window-pocket. 
 
 " Look yonder," said he, addressing me for 
 the first time since we started from Dublin, 
 " look at that house near the ruined castle." 
 
 " I see it, Sir Carnaby," I replied. 
 
 " We are now fifty miles from Dublin Castle," 
 and having declared this important fact he be- 
 came silent. 
 
 " But that house, Sir Carnaby," I persevered, 
 looking eagerly at the bleak stone-keep, or castle 
 
OAKLEIGH. 43 
 
 walls, standing in strong relief against the 
 evening sky. 
 
 " Well, that house," repeated Sir Carnaby, 
 " you seem very anxious to hear something 
 about it, and that is all but natural, I take it, 
 because you ought to have been born in it.'* 
 
 " Born in it !" I exclaimed, with real sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " I said so;" repeated my worthy guardian, 
 " born in that house, if I had had my will, — and 
 if your father had followed my advice, in all 
 human probability, he would be living in that 
 house now, a wealthy farmer, or grazier,— but 
 his pride, aye, his pride would not let him. He 
 would not condescend to become a wealthy and 
 thriving gentleman-farmer. Oh, the pomps and 
 vanities of the world had a strong hold upon 
 him, and he preferred barely existing as Captain 
 Oakleigh in splendid poverty ; and your mother, 
 instead of using her influence and compelling 
 him to sell his commission, build a house, or 
 stock a farm with the net proceeds, encouraged 
 
44 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 the infatuated man to follow his colours, till the 
 regiment got the route for India, and then ho- 
 nour, of course, calling upon your father, and 
 duty blindfolding your mother, the hapless pair 
 embarked for the land from which, as I pro- 
 phesied, they were doomed never to return." 
 
 The conversation flagged, and I began to 
 hope that it had ceased altogether. My guar- 
 dian reposed in a corner, till the corner of my 
 portfolio caught his eye. 
 
 " Ha ! what have we here," he exclaimed, 
 eagerly clutching the French cover, which merely 
 contained some loose sketches and light memo- 
 randa. 
 
 " Well, well, well," exclaimed Sir Carnaby, 
 " where did you learn to sketch such vile faces, 
 such detestable caricatures ? Here we have a 
 landscape. Pray what are those singular 
 elevations in the background intended to re- 
 present ?" 
 
 " The Alps," I replied, somewhat doggedly. 
 
 "I cry your mercy," said Sir Carnaby, "I 
 
OAKLEIGH. 45 
 
 thought they were white nightcaps and blue ex- 
 tinguishers surrounding a pan of skim milk, 
 which, no doubt, you will call Lake Leman ; 
 a very sweet landscape indeed, and tastefully 
 ornamented with wood and water, as the auc- 
 tioneer says. — Here we have John Bull pulling 
 a Frenchman's nose; a very spirited design. — 
 A group of banditti, rifling a carriage. The 
 bandit chief, a very ill-favoured gentleman, 
 sporting more ribbons than weapons it would 
 seem. — The bandit and his family. — Why one 
 would think you had lived among the banditti." 
 
 " I have seen several bandits," I replied. 
 
 " Pshaw !" interrupted the perverse old man, 
 " I never knew any one who had been to Italy 
 who had not had such miraculous escapes, and 
 such thrilling stories to tell about brigands and 
 the banditti. A Journal, by all that's ridi- 
 culous." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Sir Carnaby ; merely 
 notes— and trifles— not intended " 
 
 " For the newspapers, '' he interrupted. " No, 
 
46 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 you do not mean to publish yet ; unless some 
 kind friends should insist upon it, or some ad- 
 venturous publisher give you one thousand good 
 reasons for giving your splendid manuscripts to 
 the world. By the by, what a vile cramp hand 
 you write. We have a very tolerable hedge 
 schoolmaster near Rohan Abbey, you had better 
 put yourself into his hands immediately. Now, 
 then, let us read three lines before we shut the 
 book." 
 
 " Paris, Hotel de Bellevue. — Pretty fair house, 
 meet at the table d'hote three English virtu- 
 osus, just returned from Italy ; all zeal and 
 macaroni." 
 
 " A singular compound," said Sir Carnaby, 
 drily, as he continued to read, making sundry 
 caustic observations, evidently for the purpose 
 of trying my temper. 
 
 " Bought, by the advice of the Italian tra- 
 vellers, Messrs. Smith, Thompson, and Johnson, 
 a small stone hammer, punch, and saw ; three 
 articles which they insist are indispensable to the 
 
OAKLE1GH. 47 
 
 traveller in Italy ; the hammer, for knocking 
 fingers, toes, and noses from such celebrated 
 statues as may fall under one's observation ; the 
 punch, to be used for extracting bits of mosaic 
 and tesselated pavement ; the saw, a good and 
 convenient tool for getting off ends of venerable 
 poet's chairs and bedsteads ; a Jack knife is also 
 requisite — with this latter instrument a man may 
 immortalize himself, and hand his name down 
 to posterity upon pedestals of statues, basso re- 
 lievos, and in places of public resort, not forget- 
 ting seats and garden chairs." 
 
 " Oh infamous, infamous ! this then has been 
 your glorious pursuit !" 
 
 " But revenous a nos moutons, Thompson is 
 already famous, having inscribed his name upon 
 all the mummy cases in the Vatican ; and here- 
 after it will be supposed that Thompson was 
 buried in the land of Egypt, and that the pyra- 
 mids were built over the Thompson family.— 
 Smith signalized himself at Rome also, by at- 
 tempting to knock off one of the toes of the 
 
48 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 Apollo Belvidere ; but his design being frus- 
 trated by the Swiss guard, he was only thrust 
 into the Castle of St. Angelo. While Johnson 
 was ordered by the Neapolitan Government to 
 quit the kingdom, his depredations at Pompeii 
 having come to light." 
 
 " The force of nature could no further go, 
 To form a third she joined the other two," 
 
 said Sir Carnaby. " Well, Master Oakleigh, 
 where are your spoils, your sacks of toes and 
 noses, your odds and ends of chairs and tables ? I 
 hope you have brought enough of debris to form 
 the nucleus of a museum at Rohan Abbey." 
 
 I briefly replied that I did not intend to set 
 up for a virtuoso. I had no object in possessing 
 myself of such valuable property ; no friends at 
 home anxious and desirous to see a bit of foreign 
 wood and stone upon their mantel boards and 
 cabinets. 
 
 " Hold there," cried Sir Carnaby, " you might 
 have remembered me. I assure you a sack of 
 
OAKLEIGH. 49 
 
 broken stones would be very acceptable just now 
 to mend the road, and fill up ruts right opposite 
 my gate. — Hem ! hem !" 
 
 " It is advisable that travellers should throw 
 away their broad-leafed hats before they enter 
 Genoa ; the streets of that city being too narrow 
 for broad-brims." 
 
 " Humph ! this is one of your flying notes, I 
 suppose." 
 
 " Mem.— Travellers going from Florence to 
 Rome are not aware that there is a stone near 
 the road-side at Aquapendente, not as yet 
 described in any book of travels ; upon the said 
 stone old Roman characters may still be traced, 
 from which, and also from the upright position of 
 the block, it may be inferred that the old Roman 
 road from Poiggibonsi passed five feet and nine 
 inches from the present beaten track." 
 
 " ' Tempora mutantur/ Much ado about a 
 milestone, methinks." 
 
 " Mem.— There is a root beside the Grande 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
50 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 Route between Geneva and Lausanne, not laid 
 down in any book of travels ; it is nevertheless 
 worthy of attention ; and, as the sketch will shew, 
 resembles a beggar-man in a recumbent position 
 so closely, that travellers have been known to 
 bestow alms upon it, en passant. 
 
 " Mem. — Gottingen. Received a challenge 
 from Herr von Herring, for sending a whiff of 
 tobacco smoke obliquely towards his person ; 
 the duel is to take place this evening. Shall I 
 write to my mysterious old guardian, or not? 
 Oh ! hang him f ' 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Sir Carnaby, " I am 
 much beholden to you for this honourable 
 mention of my name — now for the duello." 
 
 * Meet in the large room of The Weisschim- 
 mel public-house — several students attend — 
 my second Herr von Sleister — swathes the towels 
 around me — we grasp our broadswords — Herr 
 von Herring is said to be a famous swordsman. 
 I know little about the art — I had a narrow 
 
OAKLEIGH. 51 
 
 escape the first cut, — he laid bare my shoulder 
 — whipping my coat sleeve and towels right 
 off." 
 
 " Presently he will bring in his wrought shirt," 
 said Sir Carnaby. 
 
 " I threw myself upon my guard, received 
 his sword upon my basket hilt — " 
 
 " What part of the person may that be— but 
 no matter." 
 
 <c And laid open his left cheek with my rapier 
 — the seconds interposed, — the judges measure 
 the wound, — it is found to be the proper length 
 and depth, — cut through two skins, — his honour 
 is satisfied, and we shake hands over a bottle of 
 old Rhenish." 
 
 " Upon my word a very sensible way of 
 settling an affair of honour," said Sir Carnabv, 
 " but I doubt me much if it would go down in 
 Galway, — the tribes would never bear the towels, 
 and the tying up I fear, — and when they do stick 
 to fighting in-doors, they will give the waiter the 
 old order still, * Pistols and coffee for two.' I 
 
52 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 shall now return you your valuable port-folio, as 
 you seem to be on thorns while I read it : — to be 
 sure it was hardly fair to plunge into the ' media 
 res of it at once, — and from the little I have 
 seen of it, I have formed a pretty fair estimate 
 of the value of its contents." 
 
 And Sir Carnaby having thus relieved his 
 swelling bosom, relapsed into solemn silence, 
 till the carriage passed under the ivy-wreathed 
 arch of a dilapidated gateway, and in a few 
 minutes stopped before the rude stone portal 
 of a dismal high-gabled three-story building, and 
 the Baronet once more opening his rusty jaws, 
 welcomed me to Rohan Abbey. 
 
 In the hall of this antiquated pile we were 
 received by the venerable housekeeper, Mrs. 
 Prudence Peabody, a withered beauty, rustling 
 in a long waisted lavender silk gown and lofty 
 lace cap. This lady, who had seen better days, 
 and must have been in very reduced circum- 
 stances when she undertook the superintendence 
 of a bachelor's hall, seemed to stand in awe of 
 
OAKLEIGH. 53 
 
 Sir Carnaby ; she glided about the house with 
 the stealthy pace of a cat, the jingling of her 
 keys alone announcing her existence. 
 
 " All right, safe and sound, of course, — let us 
 have some supper," replied Sir Carnaby, to 
 sundry kind and well meant inquiries, which an 
 old butler ventured to make concerning his 
 master's health. 
 
 " Js Spitsbergen ready ?" inquired Sir Car- 
 naby : — Mrs. Peabody meekly assented. 
 
 " I will shew you your chamber," said Sir 
 Carnaby to me, as he tripped up a broad flight 
 of white stone stairs, and entered Spitsbergen, 
 a small bedchamber, which derived its antarctic 
 title from its frigidity, being situated at the north- 
 east angle of the house, and I afterwards discovered 
 that the chamber had not been unaptly so 
 christened by the eccentric maternal uncle, from 
 whom Sir Carnaby inherited the estate. 
 
 " It was from this window that your mother 
 threw herself into the arms of your father : — the 
 happy pair ran off to Scotland, and were married 
 
54 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 by the blacksmith— poor Cora," said Sir Carnaby, 
 regarding a small miniature which hung over 
 the mantel-piece, "her face was her fortune : — she 
 refused a worthy individual who laid a good 
 estate at her feet, and eloped with a stranger, 
 a needy lieutenant in a marching regiment ; they 
 did not consult me of course, I was merely a 
 country cousin, distantly related to your mother, 
 but afterwards they applied to me, on the score 
 of our consanguinity, upon which considerable 
 stress was laid, and when they embarked for 
 India, confided their only son, a dry nursing 
 in Somersetshire, to my fatherly care and pro- 
 tection." 
 
 The day after my arrival at Rohan Abbey, 
 Sir Carnaby called upon me to admire his im- 
 provements, his plantations, fences, plough lands, 
 farm-yards, and live stock ; he contrasted the 
 present improved state of his property, with the 
 wild and unproductive state in which he found it, 
 after the decease of his uncle, who had never 
 expended a single shilling in repairs, and had 
 
OAKLEIGH. 55 
 
 only planted one tree during his whole life, that 
 tree being planted in the wrong place, and ac- 
 cordingly cut down by Sir Carnaby, who by this 
 achievement enjoyed a magnificent glimpse of 
 the weathercock of the parish church from his 
 bed-room window. Sir Carnaby bestowed 
 particular care and attention upon a clumsy 
 square of offices he had built at some distance 
 from the Abbey ; the stables for his hunters were 
 superb, his coach-houses unique, his kennels 
 nicely arranged ; he had been a sportsman, and 
 still kept up a stud of hunters and some dogs, 
 though he seldom rode to the end of his domain. 
 — He had been an ambitious man also, repre- 
 sented his county in the Irish parliament, but con- 
 tested elections had embarrassed him, and he 
 now lived like a hermit to make amends for his 
 early extravagance ; his pride, however, remained 
 unquenched, and seemed to have risen as his 
 fortune had fallen ; he still claimed precedence 
 at county meetings, pushed his way on grand 
 juries, and had fought three or four duels in his 
 
56 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 time, with men who would not tamely submit 
 to his overbearing conduct. 
 
 I found my residence at Rohan Abbey much 
 more tolerable than I had expected, — rode Sir 
 Carnaby's hunters, and read in his library as 
 it pleased me ; 'tis true I wanted a little society. 
 I met Sir Carnaby rarely, except at meal time, 
 and he gradually became more open but less 
 cordial in his language ; he inveighed against 
 idleness, praised the industrious, and I was not 
 slow to second him. One day he wondered how 
 young men could be so devoid of spirit as to 
 live like old men, and having paved the way, 
 he roundly asked me, " if I intended to pass the 
 days of my youth in idleness snd sloth/' 
 
 I replied with warmth : told him, " I spurned, 
 loathed, and detested such a life ; I had received 
 tolerable education, and would willingly enter 
 one of the learned professions, or the army." 
 
 Sir Carnaby heard me patiently, and then 
 replied, " My old steward, Dennis Plowden, is 
 too feeble to attend to my business ; I have 
 
OAKLEIGH. 57 
 
 directed him to retire to his farm and pass the 
 remainder of his days in peace. — A vacancy has 
 thus occurred in my establishment, which I am 
 anxious to fill with one of better parts, who can 
 perform the duties of steward and agent. 
 Eustace Oakleigh, do you consider yourself 
 equal to this undertaking? I have reserved 
 the situation for you, and expect you will fill 
 it, with credit to yourself and satisfaction to 
 me." 
 
 To say I was taken by surprise is needless ; 
 here was a finale to my hopes of prefer- 
 ment, the bar, the bench, and the glories of the 
 tented field vanished from my longing eyes. I 
 was no longer to look upon Sir Carnaby as a 
 guardian, he was now my master, to whom I 
 was to give an account of my stewardship ; he 
 need not have asked me a question which he 
 knew I could not answer ; and though ignorant 
 of farming and the duties of a steward, I under- 
 took the task rather than disappoint a man to 
 whom I was much indebted. I found the duties 
 d 2 
 
58 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 of my stewardship light compared with the 
 additional trouble of book-keeping, a branch 
 of my education which had been sadly neglected ; 
 and the formidable array of labourers' books, 
 day books, and ledger, laid before me on the 
 deal desk in the steward's office disconcerted 
 me ; in this office, being liberally supplied with 
 fire and candles, did Sir Carnaby expect me to 
 sit poring over his books from dinner time till 
 bed time, having spent the day with the 
 labourers in the fields ; but the worst part of 
 my duty, and the most reluctantly performed 
 part of it, was the attending at fairs and markets 
 in all weathers, — cheated by cattle and com 
 dealers, laughed at by farmers, jostled by drunken 
 labourers, and after all sharply examined and 
 frequently rebuked by Sir Carnaby, when I 
 returned weary and wet to the Abbey, for my 
 irregular hours and thoughtless mistakes. 
 
 It was during our meals that Sir Carnaby 
 made his unseasonable inquiries concerning the 
 farm, &c. and this method of transacting busi- 
 
OAKLEIGH. 59 
 
 ness became so exceedingly irksome, that one 
 day I answered more carelessly than usual, which 
 drew down a reproof. 
 
 " You are not able to say how soon the pota- 
 toes will be planted," said Sir Carnaby, " but 
 you are well able to eat them, I wot." 
 
 " The planting of the potatoes," said I, " de- 
 pends upon the exertions of the labourers." 
 
 " Aye, and labourers must be looked after, 
 Mr. Eustace," said Sir Carnaby, "and if 
 stewards mount hunters and follow hounds, 
 labourers may follow them also." 
 
 " I have followed the hounds with your per- 
 mission," said I, " before this day ; the hunt 
 crossed your fields and interrupted the workmen, 
 I followed the hounds upon my own horse, I did 
 not mount one of your hunters." 
 
 "Your horse, quotha," replied Sir Carnaby, 
 " you mean that wretched animal between a 
 Connemarra and a Galloway, that precious 
 bargain you got from the oyster man." 
 
 " I really consider my horse was a bargain, Sir, 
 
60 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 I bought him low in condition, broken down, 
 and reduced by ill treatment, his price was 
 small, but now 1 would not take — " 
 
 "Pshaw," interrupted Sir Carnaby, "you 
 ought to be ashamed to be seen upon his back ; 
 but if you must hunt, why, take one of my horses, 
 let us hear no more about that wretched animal. 
 Push me the bottle." 
 
 Thus unexpectedly, I received permission 
 to follow the hounds once more, and speedily 
 availed myself of it. I soon became acquainted 
 with several members of the hunt, and received 
 many pressing invitations to partake of their 
 hospitality, which, however anxious I might be 
 to accept, I always declined, as I well knew Sir 
 Carnaby would not dine till I had returned from 
 the chase, and would then insist upon having a 
 full account of the sports of the day; —this 
 seemed to amuse him. 
 
 " What covers did you draw ?" " Where did 
 you find ?" were his first questions as we sat 
 down to dinner: then he would inquire what 
 
OAKLEIGH. 61 
 
 leaps, what falls, and mischances I had witnessed, 
 chuckling and rejoicing over the downfal of 
 many a hapless gentleman. 
 
 " And the potent Glin Dellon rode down 
 Colonel Trevordale," cried he, after his usual 
 inquiries one evening. 
 
 " He did," said I, M but I am happy to say 
 he is not much hurt, though his horse was killed 
 on the spot." 
 
 " He should stay at home," cried Sir Carnaby, 
 " what business has a stiff stake of his years 
 bestriding a hunter V 
 
 " But Colonel Trevordale is a good horseman, 
 Sir." 
 
 " There, there, you take up the cudgels for 
 Trevordale always, you know I dislike the man ; 
 he bought that farm he now lives on, just to 
 vex me, took it out of my hand, long as I had 
 made known my intentions to purchase it. It 
 was a breach of politeness and decorum on his 
 part, nay, it was downright indecent ; and I told 
 him so publicly. The house he rented from 
 
62 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 the Quaker in Tremblestown might have an- 
 swered him, but his ambitious views extended 
 to Clonsollah, — he builds a trim lodge thereon, 
 surrounds it with green railings, cockney shrub- 
 beries, flower pots, hot beds, larch plantations, 
 and Scotch fir beltings ; calls the place ' Trevor- 
 dale,' quotha ! a name by which I never re- 
 cognise that farm, — Clonsollah being its proper 
 name, which signifies a place not the cleanest 
 in the world." 
 
 "Then the Colonel did right to change its 
 name, Sir Carnaby, if it was of such an offensive 
 nature." 
 
 " Right, sir ! he had no right, it was an 
 illegal act, I maintain it ; there, you defend him 
 again, because he asked you to dinner, and you 
 visit at his house ; he has a motive in that, I 
 see what he is aiming at, — the young man of 
 great expectations would be a noble catch for 
 his penniless daughter, or niece Grace Merton. 
 You blush, sir," said Sir Carnaby, with a bitter 
 sneer. 
 
OAKLEIGH. 63 
 
 " If I do blush," I replied, " it is to hear you 
 attribute such sordid motives to as generous, 
 upright, and warm-hearted a man as breathes — " 
 
 u Silence, sir," cried Sir Carnaby, ''recollect 
 who and what you are, — don't presume upon my 
 kindness, nor seek to profit by my countenance ; 
 in fact, if you wish to remain with me, you must 
 give up this quondam Colonel, and your almost 
 daily visits to his house, — I have said it." 
 
 As the most momentous event of my life 
 hinges upon my acquaintanceship with the 
 Trevordales, — I must allude to the fortuitous 
 circumstance of our first interview and early 
 intimacy in the next chapter. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Sir Carnaby was an early liser, and his 
 household was astir shortly after day break, his 
 first exercise was performed in the belfry, an 
 old round tower connected with the Abbey, in 
 which he tugged away at the workmen's bell 
 till he had broken the slumbers of every man, 
 woman, and child, on his lands, and all the dogs 
 in the parish raised their voices in dismal chorus ; 
 sleep being banished from the premises, and the 
 Baronet's ire kindled against all sluggards. 
 From the first morning of my sojourn, I was the 
 foremost to look in upon this knightly bell-ringer, 
 toiling away at his rope's end, as if the house 
 was on fire, and to reward my rising zeal Sir 
 Carnaby lent me a fowling piece, and sent me 
 
OAKLEIGH. 65 
 
 forth under the auspices of his game-keeper 
 to wage war with the feathered tribes, upon his 
 bogs and marshes. 
 
 One morning I had risen earlier than usual, 
 sallied forth like a keen sportsman, sauntered 
 along the borders of a sedgy marsh, ere the 
 mists had risen from it, or I could discover the 
 wild fowl, though the rushing of their wings 
 and the mingled cries of widgeon, teal, and 
 wild duck, echoed far and wide, as the birds 
 rose and wheeled through the mists, over their 
 feeding ground ; having waited for some time, 
 and thrown away a couple of random shots, I 
 put my gun under my arm and wended my way 
 to the hut of an old fowler, with whom I had 
 become acquainted upon my shooting expedi- 
 tions ; the hut this man had built was one of the 
 most wretched human habitations I had ever 
 seen, — the walls w T ere made of turf, the roof 
 covered with sedge, the chimney a bottomless 
 fish basket covered with clay, while the door 
 and window were made of basket work and 
 
66 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 heath. The proprietor of this wigwam endea- 
 voured to support a wife and three children, by 
 leading a demi-savage life as a poacher ; he sold 
 wild fowl at gentlemen's houses in winter, and 
 fish in summer; he struggled hard in all weathers 
 to keep his family as he said " from the road," 
 though at times they were frequently reduced 
 to a state bordering on starvation. I found the 
 hapless man laid on a bed of sickness, a fever 
 had taken away his strength, his haggard wife 
 and almost naked children were weeping around 
 him. Notwithstanding their poverty, the poor 
 woman declared, they were never desolate be- 
 fore ; "but now," cried she, " the neighbours 
 will not come near us, — they fear the sickness." 
 
 I entered the hut, the damp floor and walls 
 of which seemed almost reeking with disease. 
 
 " The rain came in upon us last night," said 
 the poor woman, as she wiped the moisture from 
 the only seat in the cabin, and begged "his 
 honour" to take "an air of the fire." 
 
 She told me they had subsisted for some days 
 
0AKLE1GH. 67 
 
 upon the charity of a good lady, who had sent 
 them blankets, linen, and food. 
 
 I inquired the name of her benefactress, — but 
 before I could receive an answer, a large New- 
 foundland dog familiarly entered the hut, and was 
 welcomed with a scream of delight by the 
 children. 
 
 " He's the messenger of good news," said the 
 wife, as the children put their arms round his 
 neck and upon his back, while the sagacious 
 animal looked distrustfully towards me, as I at- 
 tempted to decipher some words upon 
 
 " His bonny lettered braw brass collar," 
 
 and then turned joyfully to meet a girl muffled 
 in a cloak, who noiselessly glided into the cabin ; 
 but the slight glance I caught of a Grecian 
 profile, the mignon feet and elegant chaussure, 
 convinced me that no peasant's daughter was 
 concealed beneath the grey mantle. 
 
 " And is it her own dear self V said the sick 
 man raising his hands. 
 
68 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 " Oh, that I had a carpet of gold to put under 
 her feet," said his wife. 
 
 The young girl, upon whom many blessings 
 and praises were lavishly showered by the poor 
 people, seemed disconcerted at seeing a stranger, 
 and having given the wife a small basket, re- 
 treated from the cabin, followed by her New- 
 foundland dog. Anxious to catch another 
 glimpse of this fair minister to the suffering 
 poor, I started up, and having added my mite 
 to her liberal contribution, pursued her retreat- 
 ing figure across the moor, from which the mists 
 and fogs had risen, and settled in dense masses 
 on the uplands, towards which my fair incognito 
 was rapidly approaching. I could easily 
 have overtaken her, but from a feeling of 
 delicacy, merely kept at a respectful distance ; 
 and while I hesitated and debated within mvself 
 as to the propriety or impropriety of gratifying 
 my curiosity, the object of my pursuit gained 
 the uplands and disappeared in the mist. At all 
 
OAKLEIGH. 69 
 
 events, said I to myself, she must cross the hill 
 road as there is no respectable habitation on the 
 marsh side of it ; and to gain this road before 
 her, I started at full speed, and had almost 
 gained the road, when my ears were saluted with 
 the harsh and unwelcome sound of Sir Carnaby's 
 voice : — 
 
 " Halloo, youngster, where are you running 
 head foremost, as if Old Nick or Phillemy Roe 
 was at your heels." 
 
 " I thought I saw a hare,. sir," I gasped, —turn- 
 ing with a very bad grace to salute Sir Carnaby, 
 who, enveloped in an old great coat, was looking 
 after trespassers, even at that unseasonable 
 hour. 
 
 " So ho ! a hare, a hare," said Sir Carnaby, 
 as the object of my pursuit glided rapidly across 
 the road before us. w Was that the hare you 
 were following," said he with a sneer, pointing 
 significantly with his finger. 
 
 I muttered a negative, while Sir Carnaby 
 continued : 
 
70 OAKLE1GH. 
 
 " You're a sad dog, and early in the field ; 
 much as I approve of early rising, don't think 
 that I mean to permit your carrying on such 
 games before my face any longer ; but come 
 along, let us return to the Abbev together. 
 I dare say your morning's sport has not impaired 
 your appetite for breakfast, which we must 
 despatch hastily, as after that I wish you to 
 ride to Treinblestown market to ascertain the 
 prices of corn, before I expose mine for sale." 
 
 I always detested a country town, and more 
 especially on a market day. I speedily ascer- 
 tained the prices of grain from some farmers 
 in the market place, without dismounting from 
 my horse, and leisurely returned towards the 
 Abbey. Having got quite clear of the town, 
 I threw the reins upon my horse's neck, let 
 him choose his own paces, and sunk into one of 
 those day dreams of romance in which most 
 young men, who have nothing better to occupy 
 their minds, are wont to indulge. " An angel 
 of light could not have given a more heavenly 
 
OAKLEIGH. 71 
 
 smile,'' I ejaculated, as my horse suddenly turned 
 round on the road, — by which manoeuvre I was 
 thrown forward upon his neck within an ace of 
 tumbling into a deep ditch, and the object of 
 my steed's surprise, a horseman advancing in a 
 stately canter, soon approached me ; there was a 
 martial bearing about the man, he sat very 
 erect on Jiis saddle, and at a little distance 
 looked much younger than he really was, for 
 on closer inspection I concluded he could be 
 little short of sixty or perhaps more ; his features 
 were regular, his air reserved, and he must have 
 been a handsome man in his youth. 
 
 He would have rode past me with my full 
 consent and permission ; but my steed, though 
 far inferior to his noble chesnut, would not 
 allow him to do so ; pricking his ears he com- 
 menced galloping, and on my reining him in, he 
 began curvetting and capering before the 
 traveller's horse ; much to my annoyance and 
 the cavalier's amusement, who soon pulled up 
 his horse, complimented me upon the mettle of 
 
72 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 mine, and proposed that we should ride together ; 
 to this I willingly assented, and the weather, the 
 crops, and the state of the roads being duly dis- 
 cussed, my fellow traveller continued: — 
 
 " You're a stranger in this part of the country, 
 I presume ; at least, I, who am resident here, 
 have never seen you before ?" 
 
 " I have not been long in the country," said 
 I, "and at present I reside at Rohan Abbey .*' 
 
 " What ! with Sir Carnaby Rohan," said he, 
 " 1 thought he lived all alone like a hermit." 
 
 "lam a relative of Sir Carnaby 's," I replied. 
 
 " And I am Trevordale of Trevordale," said 
 he, " and yonder I perceive my daughter and 
 niece returning from the village school to which 
 they ride every forenoon." 
 
 The fair equestrians thus alluded to soon 
 joined us, and my companion playfully addressed 
 the foremost, inquiring how Harebell had con- 
 ducted herself to day. 
 
 " Beautifully," replied the young girl, patting 
 the arching neck of her palfrey, " shied a little 
 
OAKLEIGH. 73 
 
 when we passed that dismal wood at Rohan 
 Abbey." 
 
 " Say nothing against Rohan Abbey, in pre- 
 sence of a relative of its worthy owner — " 
 
 " Mr. Oakleigh, my daughter," said Trevor- 
 dale, turning to me, and then added, "allow 
 me to introduce to your notice Miss Grace 
 Merton, a young lady who, to her numerous 
 accomplishments, adds a thorough knowledge 
 of the whole art of cookery, the mysteries 
 of house-keeping, and has lately taken upon 
 herself to teach the young idea how to shoot. 
 What say you, my little equestrian school- 
 mistress ? — do the rising generation of Killy- 
 cross become more intelligent ? — how many 
 lessons have you heard ? — how many good marks 
 have you given ? — what whippings ? — '' 
 
 " Really, uncle," said the laughing girl, 
 assuming a hoydenish air, and raising her light 
 whip, " you almost tempt me to inflict a 
 summary castigation on your own precious 
 shoulders," — and then added, reproachfully, 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
74 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 " what will Mr. Oakleigh think of our Irish 
 manners ?" 
 
 " Yes, truly," said the Colonel, " what will 
 Mr. Oakleigh think of a wild Irish girl, who 
 threatens to whip a king's cavalry officer, upon 
 the king's highway,— said cavalry officer being 
 her own uncle ?" 
 
 But it was of little consequence what I thought 
 at that moment, I hardly replied to this badin- 
 age ; my thoughts and my eyes were fixed upon 
 the graceful form of one of those ladies. I could 
 not be mistaken, the rich clustering brown ring- 
 lets, short upper-lip, Grecian profile, dark blue 
 eyes, and sylph-like form, now seen to advantage 
 in the graceful riding habit, convinced me that 
 the lady of the mists, the good angel of the 
 poor fowler's lowly shed, Blanche Trevordale, 
 rode beside me. 
 
 " We shall be happy to see you at Trevor- 
 dale," said the Colonel, as he turned into a bye- 
 road which led to his house ; while I continued 
 my route to the Abbey, marvelling as much at 
 
OAKLEIGH. 75 
 
 the rencontre, as at my own backwardness and 
 stupidity, which had prevented me from entering 
 into conversation with the girls, or even return- 
 ing suitable replies to the gallant Colonel and 
 his lovely companions. 
 
 It was thus accidentally I had formed an 
 acquaintance with the Trevordales, and fre- 
 quently availed myself of the Colonel's kind 
 invitation, while the pleasure I experienced in 
 renewing my visits to the amiable family, induced 
 me to bear quietly with Sir Carnaby's austeri- 
 ties, and that he should command me to break 
 off all intercourse with the Trevordales seemed 
 to be most unreasonable, — his ungenerous pro- 
 hibition stung me to the soul. 
 
 I answered him with more spirit than perhaps 
 he had expected; told him I was ready to resign a 
 situation little to my taste ; give an account of 
 my stewardship, and go forth into the world like 
 thousands, to seek my fortune ; but Sir Carnaby 
 Rohan was a man of the world. I was useful to 
 him, he could not well spare my services, he 
 
76 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 thought proper to temporise : he said he had 
 other, and more cogent reasons for wishing me 
 to discontinue my visits to Trevordale ; then 
 closing the door with an air of mysteVy he con- 
 tinued : — 
 
 " There are strange rumours, dread reports, 
 afloat amongst the people; it is impossible to 
 shut one's ears and eyes; the peasantry are no 
 longer frank and open, their language is guarded; 
 they shun their superiors, confer together with 
 hurried and agitated voices ; something is brew- 
 ing, depend upon it. 1 augur nothing good 
 from the present state of things : party spirit 
 prevails and pervades on every side. We are," 
 said Sir Carnaby, lowering his voice, " on the 
 eve of a rebel lion." 
 
 " Is that all?" said I. "I expected to hear 
 something a propos to my not visiting the 
 Trevordales." 
 
 " All !'" cried Sir Carnaby, " what would you 
 have more ? Is not the disturbed state of the 
 country a national calamity ? The very heart of 
 
OAKLE1GH. 77 
 
 the country rent in twain by the fierce struggles 
 of intestine war, a sufficient reason, and quite 
 enough to bring the most thoughtless youth to 
 his sober senses ? Thus, instead of lounging 
 about Trevordale and its vicinity, I request, 
 entreat, and command you, Eustace Oakleigh, 
 to confine yourself to the precincts of my lands, 
 look more sharply after those designing labourers, 
 and aid me in barricading and putting this house 
 into a proper state of defence against the evil 
 day, and the gathering storm." 
 
 I listened quietly to Sir Carnaby's exagge- 
 rated terrors and dismal forebodings ; assured 
 him he might count upon my assistance in time 
 of need ; but at the same time insinuated a 
 doubt as to the likelihood of the events pre- 
 dicted even by the Government Gazette being 
 realized. 
 
 But Sir Carnaby requested circumspection on 
 my part ; — assumed a confidential air ; — told me 
 he had received certain informations, which, as 
 a magistrate, in duty bound, he had forwarded 
 
78 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 to the Castle. In short, according to Sir Car- 
 naby, we dwelt carelessly upon the brink of a 
 precipice — the crust of a smouldering volcano — 
 a quaking quagmire — any where but on terra 
 firma ; we were surrounded by cut-throats, and 
 rebels of all grades and descriptions. They had 
 penetrated even into our chambers, for the 
 household servants were all sworn. 
 
 " I see mutiny in old Roarks's eye," said he, 
 (that ancient butler, who had grown grey in the 
 service, and was a privileged sort of person, fre- 
 quently busied himself about the side-board after 
 dinner, till Sir Carnaby testily ordered him to 
 leave the room). "You heard the significant 
 clatter he made with the knives; the man has 
 become quite insupportable, jingling glasses, 
 coughing and making all sorts of disturbance 
 during dinner, whenever T open my mouth. 
 As to his son, that long galloot he has insinuated 
 into my service as his assistant, or in other words 
 to aid and abet in the plot as it thickens, I shall 
 quickly discharge him ; I heard him whistle 
 
OAKLEIGH. /9 
 
 Shanbuy, as he brushed this very table a few 
 days ago. Peters, the groom, has slept out 
 twice this week; neglected to sheet Foxglove, 
 lamed Hop-and-Go Constant, lost the key of 
 the oat bin, takes upon himself to break open 
 the lock, and now makes away with the corn by 
 wholesale. I find him frequently colloging 
 together with Dempsey the gamekeeper, a sad 
 old scamp, whom I shall quickly disarm for 
 selling game to the coach -guards. It is to him 
 I am indebted for the mange which has broken 
 out in the kennel ; he neglected to dress Pom- 
 pey's ear ; mark the result of hot food and care- 
 lessness, Caesar takes the distemper, Harkaway 
 must be shot, — and Dempsey will come to the 
 gallows yet, I prophecy. Mac Grub, the gar- 
 dener, seldom comes under my eye; dry and 
 reserved as a last year's artichoke, he confines 
 himself to the garden ; but I am privately in- 
 formed he uses violent gestures and blood-thirsty 
 expressions whilst chopping off the heads of flat 
 Dutch cabbages ; and last summer he beat down 
 
80 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 some orange lilies with indecent heat. — Is there 
 nothing in all that ? — -I'll be bound the fellow 
 lends himself to all manner of indifferency." 
 
 If this is a specimen of the private informa- 
 tion Sir Carnaby forwards to the Castle, thought 
 I, the ruling Powers will form a just estimate 
 of his wisdom, and of the state of the country 
 also. 
 
 But nevertheless he persevered, and carried 
 his project into effect; barricaded the front 
 windows, commenced opening the moat he had 
 formerly filled up at considerable expense, and 
 his mind and time being fully occupied with his 
 fortifications, I seized every opportunity, thus 
 afforded, and paid sundry stolen visits to the 
 Trevordales. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " Arma virumque cano," said Colonel Tre- 
 vordale, throwing aside his newspaper, and taking 
 me by the hand as I entered his library : " Here 
 we have news, good news for young fellows like 
 you, who * long to follow to the field some war- 
 like lord :' the French have thrown down the 
 gauntlet, the Directory threaten to overwhelm 
 our unprotected coasts with their revolutionary 
 forces ; but the Government is on the alert, yeo- 
 manry corps are forming everywhere, the militia 
 regiments are being augmented, and every thing 
 wears a belligerent aspect at home and abroad. 
 What think you of the singular proposal I re- 
 ceived this morning from that mighty hunter, 
 Glin Dellon? — namely, that I should become 
 e 2 
 
82 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 his lieutenant in a corps of yeomanry cavalry he 
 has raised amongst his friends, his tenants, and 
 pot companions, of which he is captain, if you 
 please. I never admired this same Dellon ; he 
 seems to be a forward and ambitious man. I 
 declined the intended honour as coolly as pos- 
 sible, of course ; and he rode away in high dud- 
 geon, to seek for an old soldier to organise his 
 bumpkins elsewhere. Now this is your time," 
 continued the Colonel, " if you wish to enter the 
 king's service ; urge Sir Carnaby to apply for a 
 commission in the militia, — one can be had for 
 asking." 
 
 My visit to Trevordale was short, — the girls 
 were absent at their school, and the Colonel soon 
 resumed his newspaper. As I returned to Rohan 
 Abbey, meditating in what way I should intro- 
 duce the subject of war, and a commission, as 
 connected therewith, to Sir Carnaby's notice, 
 Glin Dellon rode up to me ; there was something 
 bizarre in his dress and appearance that suffi- 
 ciently indicated his military mania. Over his 
 
OAKLEIGH. 83 
 
 red hunting frock hung a broad white belt, from 
 which dangled a fine new broadsword, the iron 
 sheath of which clanked martially against the 
 spurs upon his hunting boots : his head was 
 adorned with a singular combination of leather, 
 brass, and horse-hair, miscalled a helmet, which 
 being too small, he wore on the back of his 
 head, the chin strap passing under his nose ; 
 while his dark and shaggy whiskers, forced 
 upwards by a high leather stock, gave his heavy 
 but handsome countenance a most formidable 
 appearance. 
 
 " Well met," cried he : " have you heard the 
 news ? — all the country is up in arms. I have 
 been called on by Government to support King, 
 Church, and State, and raise a corps of cavalry : 
 I have nearly completed my list — picked up all 
 the smart young fellows in the Barony ; will you 
 join — will you join ? Give you a cornetcy in the 
 Cossacks — Dellon's Cossacks. Let me look at 
 my list," continued he, pulling out some dirty 
 tablets : " here we have Lieutenant Droughtnot, 
 
84 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 Cornets Ramshead of the Butts, and Hoyle ; not 
 a Papist in the corps. If you like, I'll prevail 
 upon Ramshead to become colour-sergeant ; but 
 if you would prefer that post, say so ; or the ho- 
 nourable rank of gentleman private. I have 
 several gentlemen's sons; young Doherty of 
 the New Inn ; Phill Darby, son of old Darby, 
 extensive tuck and grist miller,— most respec- 
 table and highly connected ; young Daniel, son 
 of old Daniel of Lionsden " 
 
 Here I cut the hunting captain short, by 
 thanking him ; same time briefly declined the 
 honour he wished to confer upon me ; — told him I 
 was not at liberty to enter any corps without Sir 
 Carnaby Rohan's consent; and we parted, not 
 the best friends in the world. 
 
 No sooner had Sir Carnaby heard my request, 
 namely, that he should apply for a commission 
 for me, than he broke out into invectives against 
 all ungrateful, thankless, and idle young men. 
 
 " Who has put this new crotchet into your 
 cranium ?" said he ; " you have been visiting, 
 
OAKLEIGH. 85 
 
 Master Oakleigh. I saw you depart in full fig 
 upon your roguish Gal way hack. You have 
 been to Trevordale, sir." 
 
 " I have, sir." 
 
 " You avow it openly, and in a very rebellious 
 manner, sir." 
 
 " I am a loyal subject," I replied; "and as a 
 proof of my loyalty, wish to enter the king's 
 service." 
 
 " The king does not want your services," re- 
 plied Sir Carnaby ; (l and three lines from me to 
 the Castle would soon convince you how gladly 
 a rebellious steward would be received there, 
 even as a common battle-axe bearer." 
 
 Sir Carnaby had laid singular emphasis upon 
 the word rebellious ; I felt myself called upon to 
 clear my character, but was silenced by his ob- 
 serving — "And do you really think that the 
 Colonel of any militia regiment in his senses 
 would present a commission to a friendless 
 beggar?" 
 
 Justly provoked, I retorted ; thanked him for 
 
86 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 the trouble and expence he had incurred on my 
 behalf, and hoped to be able to repay him for all, 
 one day or other. I could not boast of the 
 kindness of my relatives, but I had friends who 
 I felt assured would not see me perish ; even a 
 stranger, a man who had never made the slightest 
 profession of friendship, had that very day offered 
 me a commission. 
 
 « Who offered you a commission ?" said Sir 
 Carnaby, with a sneer. 
 
 " Glin Dellon," I replied, " but I have not 
 accepted it." 
 
 " And why not?" cried Sir Carnaby : "here, 
 at a cheap rate, and on easy terms, you might 
 have gratified your military mania." 
 
 " I declined entering into a corps of partisans, 
 whose manners and ideas I do not approve of ; 
 I am little inclined to league myself together 
 with men, who pass their time in hunting, 
 drinking, and brawling ; — who delight in taunt- 
 ing and provoking a wretched peasantry, on 
 the score of their poverty and religion." 
 
OAKLEIGH. 87 
 
 " Hold !" cried Sir Carnaby, " your words 
 border on treason, sir. Where did you pick up 
 such dangerous doctrines ?'' 
 
 " Sir Carnaby/' I replied, " since I have re- 
 sided here, I have not been an inattentive 
 observer of what has been passing around us. 
 I have heard the poor man's story in his lowly 
 cottage; — I have heard the rich man's vaunt 
 also, . and have drawn my own conclusions. 
 The people are oppressed and goaded on to 
 rebellion, if not by the wealthy landed pro- 
 prietor in person, by his immediate dependents 
 and followers, who seek to aggrandise them- 
 selves, and increase their substance, by com- 
 pelling the ancient occupiers and tillers of the 
 soil to give place, fly the country, or succumb 
 as mere serfs, hewers of wood, and drawers of 
 water, to men little better than needy adven- 
 turers, the sons and descendants of the camp 
 followers of " 
 
 " Silence," cried Sir Carnaby, clapping his 
 hands upon his ears, " I'll hear no more ; I 
 
88 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 have heard too much already ;" — then, removing 
 his hands from his ears, and casting a furtive 
 glance at the door, he exclaimed : w You'll be 
 hanged, you'll come to the gallows ; — Oh ! 
 that ever I had the misfortune to see your face : 
 — but I'll not harbour you longer. You cannot 
 remain here disseminating treasons ;" — then 
 rocking himself to and fro, as if suffering 
 severely in spirit, he groaned out, " What shall 
 I do? What shall I do?" 
 
 " Use your influence to get me a commission 
 even in a militia regiment, and write to Colonel 
 Cardonel, and ask him to use his influence also,'" 
 said I coolly. 
 
 " Do you take me for a fool ?" cried Sir 
 Carnaby. " Do you think I'll commit myself?" 
 
 <v I don't know what you intend to do," said 
 I, " but I am resolved to present myself to 
 Colonel Cardonel to-morrow as your relative, 
 willing to enter his regiment as a private sol- 
 dier." 
 
 Sir Carnaby started up, clenched his fist, and 
 
OAKLEIGH. 89 
 
 swore he would arrest me ; — H by the commission 
 of the peace I hold," cried he, * stir from this 
 house one inch without my permission, and 
 I'll put you into the Abbot's vault under your 
 feet. Begone to your bed-room. — Out with 
 you, — leave my presence." 
 
 I rose and crossed the room, when Sir Car- 
 naby laid his hand upon my shoulder, and endea- 
 vouring to repress strong feelings, gasped out, 
 " Stay, hold, sit down, sir, you provoked me, 
 knowing the precarious state of my health, 
 Eustace Oakleigh. You are incorrigible, we 
 must part, be it so ; — perhaps I have been a 
 little too hasty. You wish to enter the army ; — ■ 
 we must endeavour to get you a commission ; — 
 ring the bell. And now to supper with what 
 appetite we may." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Sir Carnaby soon relieved me from the 
 onus of his stewardship ; he prevailed upon his 
 ci-devant steward to return to his post. Mean- 
 time I prepared to quit the Abbey at a moment's 
 notice, whenever my name appeared in the 
 Gazette. 
 
 And being now my own master, my visits to 
 Trevordale became more frequent than ever ; 
 the Colonel was always glad to see me, while 
 Blanche Trevordale and Grace Merton received 
 me like a brother. 
 
 " You seem to have a predilection for Irish 
 music," said I to Blanche, as she played some 
 native airs on the harp one evening. 
 
 " And what music can be more suited to the 
 
OAKLEIGH. 91 
 
 present state of this unhappy country ?" said 
 she, with much feeling; "the Irish music is 
 said to be the music of a people who have lost 
 their liberty. It is," she continued, " the music 
 of farewells and regrets." 
 
 " And sometimes of hopeless love," said I. 
 
 " You are growing sentimental, I declare," 
 said Grace Merton, turning to the pianoforte ; 
 " come, I must enliven you with an anti-senti- 
 mental air of my own choosing," and the lively 
 girl played the Fox-hunter's jig and McDonald's 
 reel. 
 
 The inspiring music soon roused the Colonel, 
 who had been taking his siesta upon a distant 
 sofa. He started up, and declared McDonald's 
 reel was worth all the die-away Irish airs ever 
 wailed by the old vagrant harpers. 
 
 " Get up, Eustace Oakleigh," cried the Co- 
 lonel, " and let me see you 6 trip it featly as you 
 go, on the light fantastic toe/ with Blanche. 
 No apologies ; your boots and ignorance of the 
 
92- OAKLEIGH. 
 
 dance shall not excuse you. Now face your 
 partner. Grace, girl, begin again. There 
 should be two couple ; but no matter, here 
 goes. I'll lead out this venerable fire-screen as 
 my partner, and plant her here to preserve the 
 figure." 
 
 Grace played unmercifully fast ; my boots 
 and awkwardness somewhat embarrassed my 
 movements, and the Colonel, as he danced back- 
 wards and forwards, exclaimed, 
 
 " Preserve the figure ; hands across ; you are 
 out, man ; there, stand aside, stand aside ; and 
 Blanche, take Grace's place at the piano, while 
 Grace and I give Mr. Oakleigh an insight into 
 the intricacies of the jig polthogue." 
 
 And while the Colonel and his sprightly niece 
 danced merrily in the middle of the room, the 
 better to contemplate the performance, I leaned 
 my shoulders against the Colonel's late partner ; 
 but the venerable screen suddenly gave way, 
 and I measured my length upon the carpet : 
 
OAKLEIGH. 93 
 
 the girls screamed, the Colonel laughed, the 
 door flew open, and Glin Dellon entered the 
 apartment. 
 
 " I fear I have broken in upon your sports, 
 sans ceremonie," said he, with a malignant leer. 
 
 " This honour is rather unexpected," said the 
 Colonel, drawing himself up : li have the good- 
 ness to be seated, Mr. Dellon." 
 
 " I merely called, en passant," said Dellon, 
 willing to sport a bit of French he had picked up 
 in the metropolis : " I have been dining with the 
 officers of the # * # dragoons, and just called, in 
 a friendly way, to ask you to meet them to-mor- 
 row evening at Castle Dellon. I have already 
 secured Sir Miles Desart, the Parson, the three 
 Doboldos, the Hon. County Member, Single- 
 side of the Slope, the Hon. Closefist Member for 
 the borough of Tremblestown, the officers of 
 my own corps, and a few of my neighbours. 
 We dine at seven. Now, Colonel, don't refuse 
 me." 
 
94 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 But the Colonel did refuse : he was piqued at 
 the abrupt nature of Dellon's visit ; he did not 
 much like leaving his niece and daughter by 
 themselves; he said the country was disturb- 
 ed — houses had been robbed in the neighbour- 
 hood. 
 
 tl But if I could prevail upon the young ladies 
 to accompany you," said Dellon, mincing his 
 voice, and assuming a seductive smile. " I 
 throw myself upon your generosity, Miss Trevor- 
 dale ; may I hope to have the felicity of seeing 
 you, Miss Merton, and the Colonel, at Dellon 
 Castle. My aunt will endeavour to entertain 
 you ; and I need not say how fortunate I should 
 consider myself, to have the honour of enter- 
 taining the pride of our county in my own 
 house." 
 
 But notwithstanding the intended compliment, 
 Miss Trevordale and Grace Merton declined the 
 invitation. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Oakleigh," said Dellon, turning 
 
OAKLEIGH. 95 
 
 to me ; " if you are not afraid of the rebels, and 
 wish to meet a gallant party of loyal men, I may 
 count upon the pleasure of seeing you to-morrow 
 evening at seven ?" 
 
 Somewhat thrown off my guard by my recent 
 fall and the singularity of the whole affair, I ac- 
 cepted the invitation, and Dellon soon after 
 retired. 
 
 " I wish you joy/' said the Colonel ; " you 
 will have a foretaste of the pleasures of the mess 
 table, and a six miles' ride home at midnight, if 
 you are lucky enough to steal away with four 
 bottles under your belt ; but if you do not pre- 
 serve your equilibrium better than you did a 
 while ago, put a nightcap in your pocket, and 
 prepare to pass the night under Dellon's ma- 
 hogany." 
 
 In truth, I regretted having accepted this 
 invitation ; but having done so, come weal, 
 come woe, resolved to go through the vinous 
 ordeal. 
 
96 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 Sir Carnaby heard me speak of dining at 
 Castle Dellon, without paying much attention to 
 what I said. 
 
 " You are now your own master," said he ; 
 61 dine where you please." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 It was with reluctance and sundry misgivings 
 I rode up the long formal avenue of Castle 
 Dellon. I had dallied on the road till the clouds 
 of night overshadowed hill and dale, and ap- 
 proached the Castle, or square unsightly dwel- 
 ling house, a late and perhaps unwelcome 
 guest. — I found the guests assembled in the 
 antique drawing-room, the dinner being kept 
 back an hour, in the vain expectation of the 
 advent of some rural Thane, till murmurs of 
 discontent began to arise, to which the host could 
 no longer turn a deaf ear : and in a few mo- 
 ments we were seated at his hospitable board. 
 Glin Dellon had introduced me to three of his 
 guests, and Miss Dora Finnerty, his maiden 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
98 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 aunt, a tall, severe looking lady, of a certain 
 respectable age, who managed her nephew's 
 domestic affairs, and graced his board on festive 
 occasions like the present. I could not say I 
 admired her style of dress : a yellow and purple 
 bombazine saque, with long tight sleeves, from 
 which sprang her long scraggy neck, richly 
 laden with chains and baubles ; her countenance 
 was not the most bewitching in the world, 
 though her cheeks, naturally colourless and 
 freckled, were judiciously illuminated with an 
 abundance of rouge, while her head was crowned 
 with a profusion of golden curls, which, at a little 
 distance, seemed to be wreaths of those trophies 
 of the chase, commonly called fox brushes. 
 
 This lady did the honours, seated between 
 the Rev. Nathan Wagley, and the Hon. 
 County Member, Singleside of the Slope, 
 who seemed to encumber the good lady with 
 more compliments and help than she needed. 
 The dragoon officers had sent a pretty apology 
 in the person of Lieut. Dawson Lane, a meagre 
 
OAKLEIGH. 99 
 
 and coxcombical youth, who bestowed all his 
 attentions upon his ruffles, and the nice conduct 
 of his knife and fork ; being seated between this 
 gentleman and a little flippant militia officer, 
 I thought myself rather fortunate, especially as 
 the latter gentleman, by his pertinent remarks, 
 shrewd sayings, and convivial disposition, fre- 
 quently set the table in a roar in our vicinity ; 
 though his brightest sallies failed to spread a 
 smile over Lieut. Dawson Lane's insipid coun- 
 tenance ; who, in his turn, most unwittingly set 
 the table in a roar also, when having contem- 
 plated the fair lady at the head of the table 
 through his quizzing glass, " he begged to have 
 the honour of engaging Mrs. Glin Dellon to 
 join him in the pleasures of wine," and without 
 perceiving his mistake, deliberately emptied 
 his glass, and barely condescended to reply to 
 the little militia officer, who had endeavoured 
 to set a brother officer right in the following 
 manner : — 
 
100 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 •' You have mistaken our host's aunt for his 
 wife or mother, and as a brother officer " 
 
 " Your mothers brother officer !" interrupted 
 the dragoon, casting a contemptuous glance upon 
 the militia man ; who declared he thought he 
 was sufficiently intelligible. 
 
 " But seeing the awkward predicament of a 
 brother officer " 
 
 " Eh ! my brother officer !" said the dragoon. 
 " Soul and honour — really, never saw you 
 before." 
 
 But this polite, and not very interesting, con- 
 versation between the regulars, was speedily lost 
 in the general conversation of the guests, and 
 the somewhat clamorous observations and ex- 
 clamations of the irregulars; for Dellon, in the 
 plenitude of his loyalty, had invited not only 
 the officers but the non-commissioned officers, 
 and not a few of the gentlemen privates of his 
 yeomanry corps, to partake of his hospitality ; 
 and thus certain bucks and bloods, who had 
 
OAKLEIGH. 101 
 
 never dined at a gentleman's table before, now 
 being clothed in the blue and white facings of 
 loyalty, made the "welkin ring" with their 
 vociferous applauses, when the glorious anthem 
 of God save the King was performed by a 
 clarionette, a fife, two trumpets, a bassoon, 
 two-fiddles, and a kettle-drum, called the band; 
 which had been stationed at one end of the 
 room, and enlivened or distracted the guests 
 with their martial strains. 
 
 The cloth being removed, and the royal 
 family and the ladies duly toasted, Miss Dora 
 Finnerty rose, dropped a magnificent courtesy 
 to the company, and retired, like a tragedy 
 queen, followed by the applauses of an admiring 
 audience. 
 
 The bottle now began to circulate briskly; 
 toasts and sentiments were drank with all the 
 honours. The county member, Singleside of 
 the Slope, being loudly called for, rose and re- 
 turned thanks, — same time seized the oppor- 
 
102 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 tunity of expressing his sentiments for the 999th 
 time. 
 
 He said he was all of one side, and of course 
 could never belong to the other, whatever his 
 enemies might say to the contrary. He was 
 blue to the back-bone ; supported Government 
 loyally, in and out of the House. He would go 
 still further, he would cross the Channel to up- 
 hold the Church and State, much as he disliked 
 salt water, and the idea of putting but a plank 
 between his feet and eternity. 
 
 The borough member's, Closefist, speech was 
 said to be as original, and as much to the point 
 as ever, viz. — 
 
 " Gentlemen, you know me, I know you, we 
 know one another ; and if any man in the room 
 don't, let him declare his ignorance, we will set 
 him in the right road ; and that's the short and 
 the long of it." 
 
 Rapturous applause followed this and sundry 
 loyal speeches, toasts, and songs, till the har- 
 
OAKLEIGH. 103 
 
 mony of the night was disturbed by loud and 
 angry words, portentous of a brawl, at the lower 
 end of the table, which was principally occupied 
 by yeomanry and fox-hunters in full costume ; 
 a certain Lieutenant Droughtnot of the yeoman 
 guard, and Buck Mahone of sporting notoriety, 
 having differed in opinion concerning the quali- 
 fications of their horses. But peace being re- 
 stored by the timely interference of our host, 
 Buck Mahone was heard to declare, that upon 
 . his veracity there was no speaking to Lieutenant 
 Droughtnot ever since he took the priest's horse; 
 and this sally recalled Droughtnot's complacency. 
 " I bought the horse fairly on the highway." 
 " You bought him with the penal code in 
 your fist," replied Mahone. " Come, tell us 
 how you served the priest." 
 
 " I served him as he ought to be served," 
 replied Droughtnot. " I met him returning 
 from the fair on the black horse ; * Good even- 
 ing, your reverence,' said I ; ' that's a good beast 
 you have under you.' — ' He is not indifferent,' 
 
104 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 said he. — ' Where did you get him ?' said I. — 
 6 Up the country,' said he. — ' I'll warrant he has 
 a leap in him/ said I ; 'try him at this wall by 
 the road-side.' — ' I am not inclined,' said he ; 
 8 though they say he has followed the hounds 
 before now.' — ' Let me try him for your reve- 
 rence,' said I. — * And welcome,' said he. — 
 Down he got, and up I got on the black horse ; 
 leaped him over the wall, gave him the heels, 
 and galloped him round the fields till I found 
 he was all right, and then rode back to the 
 priest again. ' Well, how do you like him ?' 
 «aid he. — ' Will you sell him ?' said I. — ' Indeed 
 I will not/ said he; 'I refused fifty pounds 
 twice this blessed day for him ; so cross the wall 
 again, and let me be going home.' — ' You are 
 
 at the wrong side of the wall/ said I < How is 
 
 that?' said he. — * Hold out your hand/ said I; 
 6 here is five pounds for your horse.'— Well, he 
 refused to take the money, till I told him I had 
 the law upon my side. ' You may have the law/ 
 said he, < but you have not the equity.'— But to 
 
OAKLEIGH. 105 
 
 put an end to this talk, I dismounted, ungirthed 
 the saddle, put five pounds under the skirt, and 
 threw it over the wall into his face. 'There, 
 Father Toole,' says I, { you have both the law 
 and equity, and plain dealing into the bargain ; 
 so good night to your reverence.'" 
 
 " Bravo ! well done, Droughtnot !" echoed on 
 every side ; while his quondam companions 
 drank his health amidst cheers and laughter. 
 
 But a dispute of a more serious nature sprang 
 up at my side of the table ; a tall, meagre, and 
 almost toothless old parson and the aforesaid 
 militia officer having got by the ears. The 
 parson declaring, that Lieutenant Brasfort had 
 qualified a toast, and had poured into his ear 
 dissenting doctrines, that he, the parson, would 
 no longer cloak from the company; while the 
 Lieutenant, whose face, notwithstanding his 
 merriment and wit, glowed with indignation, 
 and was at all times most forbidding, to say the 
 least of it, retorted upon the parson, pronounced 
 him to be glorious, half-seas over, incapable of 
 f 2 
 
106 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 retaining in his cranium what any one said for 
 half a second. But the parson got upon his 
 legs, and repelled the slanderous attack upon a 
 pillar of the Church. 
 
 " And if I have drank wine," said he, " it 
 matters not, in vino Veritas, gentlemen ; but, 
 gentlemen, I cannot hide from you, what this 
 gentleman on my right has said; when, with 
 upraised hands and hearts, we drank the glorious, 
 pious, and immortal memory of the great and 
 good King William, who saved us from Popery, 
 slavery, brass money, and wooden shoes ; at that 
 moment, I say, did the delinquent whisper that, 
 indeed it was not King William saved us from 
 brass money, and wooden shoes ; and further 
 insinuated that he drank the King's health as a 
 private gentleman." 
 
 Bursts of indignation, and loud cries of < kick 
 him out,' followed the parson's declaration ; who 
 sat down like a man who had done the State 
 some service. 
 
 Our host now interfered; he requested the 
 
OAKLEIGH. 107 
 
 noisy yeomen to remember Ralph Brasfort was 
 an officer, son of a worthy magistrate, with whom 
 they were well acquainted. But Ralph Brasfort 
 had already risen in his own defence ; he sup- 
 posed any man not two removes from a fool, 
 knew the difference between a king and a 
 private gentleman, — he admitted having said 
 that King William's Dutch subjects wore wooden 
 shoes, — he, Brasfort, had been in Holland, — had 
 seen the base brass money, and the wooden 
 shoes worn by the Dutch, even at the present 
 day. 
 
 " He thinks he is at the Club, now," inter- 
 rupted Droughtnot, " he thinks he is amongst 
 the United men ; — when did you change your 
 buttons, Brasfort?" 
 
 " Ask my tailor," retorted the testy Lieutenant. 
 
 " You forget your old friends," continued 
 D'roughtnot, winking at his companions, "but 
 I'll give you a toast, to prove your loyalty, 
 Ralph Brasfort: 'Here is perdition to the 
 rascally United Irishmen and Defenders.' " 
 
108 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 This toast was shouted fiercely around. 
 
 Brasfort, as he filled his glass, coolly re- 
 peated : — u Here is perdition to rascals every- 
 where'' 
 
 " He qualifies again," cried the Parson. 
 
 " Collar him out the window," cried Buck 
 Mahone, while Droughtnot, Ramshead, and 
 others, rose tumultuously, bent upon ejecting 
 Brasfort from the room. 
 
 Though I had never seen that gentleman 
 before, I felt for his hapless situation, — endea- 
 voured to interpose as a peace-maker; and 
 having addressed Droughtnot for that purpose, 
 I was very discourteously treated by him; 
 squaring his uncouth bulky person before me, 
 and assuming an air of defiance, he demanded 
 who this stranger was — "and how has he got 
 amongst us V cried he. 
 
 " Sit down, Droughtnot," cried our host, with- 
 out rising from his chair, " if Mr. Oakleigh is a 
 stranger, it is his own fault ; he refused to join 
 our corps, he wants to be a militia man." 
 
OAKLEIGFI. 109 
 
 " Aye, and to curry favour with Brasfort, I 
 suppose, by taking up the cudgels for him now," 
 cried Droughtnot, snapping his fingers in my 
 face ; a piece of impertinence I did not tamely 
 submit to ; and seizing him by the collar, while 
 he grappeled mine, a struggle ensued, during 
 which my antagonist endeavoured to raise me 
 in his arms, and dash me against the wall ; a 
 feat he endeavoured to perform with little 
 success ; lost his equilibrium and measured his 
 length upon the floor, amidst a loud crash of 
 bottles, full and empty, in the midst of which 
 he lay sprawling; w r hile his quondam companions 
 rushed to raise their fallen companion ; mean- 
 time Brasfort, profiting by the diversion in his 
 favour, had quietly made his exit from the 
 room. Not feeling myself called on to enter 
 the lists with Droughtnot, who now called 
 lustily for his sword, I thanked my host for 
 the singular entertainment he had afforded me ; 
 and retreated from the scene of riot and debauch. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 I rode from the gate of Castle Dellon with 
 very different feelings from those with which I 
 had entered it a few hours before ; the night was 
 dark, and my road lay through a desolate region 
 of morass and mountain. Anxious to leave the 
 scene of revelry as far behind as possible, I gave 
 rny horse the reins ; and, confident in his paces, 
 even in the night, permitted him to gallop as 
 fast as he liked towards his own stable. As we 
 thus rapidly progressed along the indistinct, and 
 scarcely visible road, I overtook a horseman 
 riding in the same direction, whom I soon dis- 
 covered to be the recreant Lieutenant Brasfort. 
 
 " Ha, ha/' cried he, raising his shrill and dis- 
 agreeable voice, " so you stole away also, — you 
 
OAKLEIGH. Ill 
 
 covered my retreat most gallantly, — by-the-bye, 
 what a contemptible set of dolts and blockheads 
 those yeomanry fellows are, and their Captain, 
 that designing wolf, Glin Dellon; — beware of 
 him, my friend; he is as deep as a draw well, curry- 
 ing favour with the strong party just now for 
 political ends ; a red hot Orange-man to-day, 
 anything you please to-morrow, has been the 
 motto of his family ever since his Papist grand- 
 father turned Protestant, to preserve a remnant 
 of his estate ; but perhaps I am speaking too 
 fast," said Brasfort. 
 
 " I perfectly understand you," said I. 
 
 " Oh ! you do, I guessed as much," continued 
 Brasfort ; " you're a bit of a Liberal I'll war- 
 rant, and not the worse for that : Ha ! ha!" 
 
 " I have not joined any party," said I, "nor 
 do I intend to meddle with politics." 
 
 " True, quite right,'' said Brasfort, curbing 
 his horse into a walk ; " we military men should 
 never dirty our fingers with politics, but a man 
 may have private opinions all the while, be true 
 
112 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 to his country, and not give way before a set of 
 blundering blockheads, like our late companions. 
 Do you imagine that the present state of things 
 can last, that this splendid country, and millions 
 of our fellow countrymen can be trampled into 
 the dust by a few overbearing aristocrats ; — per- 
 haps I am speaking too fast." 
 
 And again I assured Brasfort I had heard 
 every word he had said, and certainly agreed 
 with him concerning the unfitness of our late 
 companions to be governors of the country. 
 
 As we rode onwards, the night became darker, 
 and the wind rushed in wild gusts over the 
 wastes. 
 
 ''You have heard of the Defenders," said 
 Brasfort. 
 
 I replied in the affirmative. 
 
 " And you have heard of the United-men 
 also; know the rules of the society I'll be bound, 
 and the signs, marks, and tokens," said Brasfort, 
 as if thinking aloud. 
 
 "If you are speaking to me, Mr. Brasfort," 
 
OAKLEIGH. 113 
 
 said I, " I beg to inform you, I neither belong 
 to any secret society, nor do I wish to become 
 acquainted with men who are not staunch sup- 
 porters of our glorious constitution." 
 
 " Halt, stand and deliver," shouted several 
 hoarse voices, and we were suddenly surrounded 
 by a gang of men, armed with guns and pistols. 
 
 " Fodaballah," said Brasfort hastily. 
 
 " Pass on, friends," replied one of the gang, 
 and the next moment we rode as quietly along 
 the road as if nothing had happened. 
 
 Greatly surprised at this adventure, I turned 
 to Brasfort and demanded some explanation. 
 He treated the whole affair as a jest. 
 
 " You're a stranger in this country," said he ; 
 ? but when you know the people as well as I do, 
 you won't mind these trifles." 
 
 " But the men were armed," said I. 
 
 " Perhaps they were yeomen in disguise," 
 said Brasfort. 
 
 " You spoke to them," said I. 
 
 " I did so, I gave them the usual salutation 
 
114 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 the farmers give their men when they meet them 
 at night." 
 
 " Will you be so kind as to repeat it again ?" 
 said I; "it may be useful to me." 
 
 " Most willingly," replied Brasfort ; " but, my 
 young friend, here we are at the cross roads, 
 my road lies to the left, your's straight forward ; 
 put spurs to your horse, and — good night, good 
 night," cried he, galloping away into the gloom, 
 whilst I continued my route towards the Abbey. 
 
 I had ridden about a mile, endeavouring to 
 solve the mystery of Brasfort's words, when my 
 trusty steed came to a halt, and stood stock- 
 still in the centre of the road, his head stretched 
 forward, and his ears cocked. 
 
 " What do you see, old fellow," said I, encou- 
 raging him to advance, and at the same time 
 endeavouring to discover if any obstacle lay 
 before us or obstructed the road; the clouds 
 having cleared a little, a few rays of starlight 
 struggled through the breaking masses, and I 
 presently discovered several country cars and 
 
OAKLEIGH. 115 
 
 carts placed across the road, about thirty paces 
 from me ; while I contemplated this barricade, 
 two men immerged from its shade, and pro- 
 nounced a word which I supposed to be one of 
 their passwords, and I responded Fodaballah, 
 happily remembering Brasfort's word, — and 
 " Open sesame," could not have been more 
 successful. 
 
 " Pass on, friend,'' said one of the men, 
 advancing to the barrier, from which he drew a 
 cart, and permitted me to ride quietly through 
 the midst of some forty armed men, drawn up 
 behind this singular obstruction. 
 
 " May we expect the General to-night?" said 
 my conductor, touching his hat respectfully. 
 
 Again I repeated the password, and waved 
 my hand impatiently. 
 
 " It's himself," said one of the men to my 
 conductor. 
 
 "Silence, No. 10." replied the leader, and 
 then added : " This is a cold night for your 
 Excellency to ride without a great coat, and if 
 
116 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 I might make so free as to offer you my own, 
 it would be the proudest action of my life." 
 
 To commit myself, by speaking to this man, 
 might have been attended with serious conse- 
 quences; — I evidently owed my present safety 
 to some egregious mistake ; and finding the 
 man persisted in offering me his coat, I accepted 
 it. 
 
 " Long may you wear it/' said he, as I rode 
 forward, possessed of a comfortable garment, 
 and blessing my lucky stars in having got clear 
 of the second gang. 
 
 I now resolved to follow Brasfort's advice, 
 and put spurs to my horse, and for this purpose 
 was gathering up the reins, when I heard my 
 own name pronounced by a well known voice, 
 close behind me. 
 
 61 Mr. Oakleigh," said the old fowler, as he 
 stepped forward with his gun under his arm, 
 " they find they have made a mistake, quit the 
 road, and ride for your life." 
 
 Having thanked the fowler for his friendly 
 
OAKLEIGH. 1 17 
 
 hint, I put my steed upon his mettle, cleared a 
 ditch by the road side, and galloped along the 
 elastic turf for some distance. Presently the 
 country became more difficult ; the ground 
 being interspersed with rocks, rivulets, roots of 
 trees, and brambles. I would have pulled up, 
 and proceeded at a more guarded pace, had 
 Whitefoot (a name he derived from a singular 
 white streak or ring, round one of his slender 
 fetlocks) permitted it. The little horse seemed 
 wide awake to the danger of our situation ; he 
 dashed through thick and thin with the bit 
 between his teeth, and from the confidence with 
 which he scrambled through places of the most 
 dangerous description; now passing within a 
 hair's breadth of a deep marl pit ; anon stepping 
 lightly from tuft to tuft over a shaking quag- 
 mire ; then leaping a deep brook, almost con- 
 cealed with ferns and furze, — 1 felt assured this 
 was not the first night gallop he had taken over 
 the same line of country, and that his former 
 
118 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 master had been, as 1 afterwards heard, con- 
 nected with a band of smugglers. 
 
 Having now gained the uplands, and left our 
 pursuers far behind, I succeeded in pulling up 
 Whitefoot for a few minutes ; the clouds had 
 dispersed, and the moon shed her light around 
 us, the wild cries of the curlew and plover, and 
 occasionally the deep boom of the bittern broke 
 through the silence of night ; but presently 
 other sounds fell upon my ear, and the shouts 
 of men came upon the wind from a hill side, 
 round which I intended to pass. It required the 
 greatest circumspection on my part to advance 
 towards this hill without being perceived, I 
 therefore approached it leisurely, keeping as 
 much as possible in the shade of some high 
 thorn hedges. I soon discovered a large body 
 of men, amounting to several thousands, drawn 
 up in battle array upon the hill side, and the 
 shouting I had heard was raised by their officers, 
 whom I now distinctly heard giving the word of 
 
OAKLEIGH. 119 
 
 command as they exercised their men. I was 
 now almost close to the base of the hill, and 
 sheltered by some elder bushes and the wall of 
 a ruined house, I pulled up my steed, and con- 
 tinued to observe the evolutions of this body 
 of men. Two horsemen rode rapidly along the 
 ranks, cantered down the hill, and halted a few 
 paces off the spot in which I was concealed. 
 
 They spoke with anger and impatience, 
 especially one man who was mufflled in a 
 cloak. 
 
 " He will not come to-night," said he, " and 
 we have got up the parade for nothing." 
 
 " The more parades the better," replied his 
 companion. 
 
 11 Confound these pikemen of yours," said 
 the first speaker, " they embarrass one another 
 and get into confusion every five minutes." 
 
 " Never mind, we'll soon have them as well 
 drilled as your own Light Bobs" (militia.) 
 
 " By Jove, you'll have them no great things 
 
120 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 then," said the man in the cloak, whom I now 
 discovered to be Lieutenant Brasfort. 
 
 " Is that a hat ?" said he, pointing at the wall 
 over which I was looking. 
 
 " It's only a turf," replied his companion. 
 
 " Turf or no turf, here's at it," said Brasfort 
 presenting a pistol, and the next minute a bullet 
 whistled through my hat, while my steed start- 
 ing suddenly, threw down some loose stones, 
 that were heaped behind him, scrambled out of 
 the shade of the bushes and galloped ventre a 
 terre round the base of the hill, pursued by 
 Brasfort and his companion, who now discharged 
 both their pistols without any effect, and having 
 followed for a short distance, wheeled about 
 and returned to their men at full gallop, either 
 for the purpose of cutting off my retreat, or 
 sending better mounted men after me ; — while 
 for my part I never drew the bridle till I leaped 
 right into the road close to Colonel Trevordale's 
 plantations, and here considering myself safe, 
 
OAKLEIGII. 121 
 
 I dismounted to examine the girths of my saddle, 
 and hardly had I done so, before a horseman 
 galloping furiously up the road, was close upon 
 me ; I quickly regained my saddle, while the 
 stranger's horse started, swerved, fell, and finally 
 rolled over his rider. I now dismounted, and 
 soon extricated the fallen man from his peri- 
 lous situation. 
 
 I hope you are not seriously hurt," said I, 
 as the man leaned heavily upon me, and seemed 
 somewhat stunned by his fall. 
 
 " I am better now, thank you, my friend," 
 said he, " I feel quite strong again ;" and having 
 said so, he stepped forward and fell upon his 
 face in the middle of the road, and lay without 
 sense or motion by the side of his groaning 
 steed. 
 
 1 did not take long to deliberate, raised 
 him once more in my arms, and set him upon 
 Whitefoot's back, who was quietly grazing by 
 the road side as if nothing had happened. 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Though it was midnight when we arrived at 
 Colonel Trevordale's door, I did not hesitate 
 to knock loudly, and presently the door was 
 opened by the Colonel himself ; fortunately he 
 had remained reading in Irs library, though the 
 rest of the family had retired. 
 
 The moment he recognised my voice — "Eustace 
 Oakleigh," he exclaimed, with unfeigned sur- 
 prise, "what has happened to you, and who 
 have you got there on horseback ?" 
 
 I soon explained to the Colonel the nature of 
 the accident. " Right, my boy," said he ; " you 
 never knocked at my door for a better purpose :" 
 — and having said so, the Colonel assisted me to 
 bring the stranger, who had partially recovered, 
 
OAKLEIGH. 123 
 
 into the house ; and having laid him upon the 
 parlour sofa, I went to look after my horse, and 
 having stabled him, returned to the parlour, 
 where I found Blanche and Grace Merton in 
 deshabille, assisting the Colonel, who, like a good 
 Samaritan, was pouring wine down the stranger's 
 throat, — the good effects of which were soon dis- 
 cernible : the man sat up, stared wildly about 
 him, put his hand to his forehead, upon which 
 he had received a contusion, and then exclaimed, 
 "If ever there was a luckless man on the face of 
 the earth, it is Edward " He checked him- 
 self suddenly, and continued — " To what friends 
 am I indebted for all this kindness ?" 
 
 " This young man is called Eustace Oak- 
 leigh," said the Colonel, laying his hand on my 
 shoulder: "my name is Trevordale; this is my 
 daughter, and this is Miss Grace Merton, my 
 niece/' 
 
 " And my name," said the stranger, " is Ed- 
 wards." 
 
 " A good loyal name," said the Colonel, " and 
 
124 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 famous since the days of the Black Prince; — but 
 come, young ladies, bestir yourselves ; let us 
 have some supper. Eustace looks as hungry as 
 a hunter; and if Mr. Edwards will allow me to 
 prescribe for him, I think he may yet do well 
 without calling in the doctor." 
 
 But Edwards thanked the Colonel for his 
 kindness; he said he felt quite recovered, and 
 was anxious to look after his horse. 
 
 But the Colonel would not hear of it. " Do 
 you think we are Goths and Vandals in this part 
 of the country, to permit a wounded stranger to 
 quit the house at this time of night? No, no, 
 sir," continued the Colonel ; " sit down, and if 
 you keep the handkerchief, steeped in spirits, to 
 your brow for ten minutes longer, you will be 
 able to eat something before you retire to rest." 
 
 And Edwards now cheerfully resumed his seat 
 by the fire ; while the girls, not wishing to dis- 
 turb the servants, arranged the supper table with 
 their own fair hands. Being seated opposite 
 Edwards, I surveyed him calmly for the first 
 
OAKLEIGH. 125 
 
 time. Having laid aside his coarse riding coat, 
 notwithstanding the homeliness of the rest of his 
 attire, he was evidently a gentleman, perhaps of 
 reduced fortunes, though not much more than 
 thirty years of age : his dark brown hair curled 
 crisply about his well shaped head ; his face was 
 handsome, though the features were not regular, 
 there was a playful carelessness about his mouth, 
 which contrasted strangely with the fierce flash- 
 ing of his hazel eye : and the Colonel quickly 
 discovered that his guest was a military man. 
 
 6i You have served before now," said the 
 Colonel, addressing himself to Edwards. 
 
 Edwards assented. 
 
 "And no doubt," continued the Colonel, 
 « you are home on leave ; — stirring times these, 
 Mr. Edwards : we military men are likely to be 
 called on active service, at home and abroad."' 
 
 " And the sooner the better," said Edwards. 
 
 " Just so; — I myself should not mind having a 
 brush with those confounded French rascals, and 
 teach them how to respect the higher powers. — 
 
126 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 They even speak of landing on our coasts ; but 
 let them come," said the Colonel, "and they 
 will find all parties unite 'pro aris etfocis.' y ' 
 
 Edwards did not reply; and during the pause, 
 Grace Merton rose, laid her hand upon the 
 Colonel's shoulder, and timidly inquired—" Did 
 you hear that noise in the lawn V 
 
 " I heard no noise," replied the Colonel ; " sit 
 down, you timid creature ; and indeed I think, 
 my dear girls, you had better retire for the 
 night.'' 
 
 But Grace Merton would not sit down, much 
 less retire for the night. " Hark !" said she, 
 " did you not hear something then ?" 
 
 " I certainly heard something," said Miss 
 Trevordale, rising from her chair. 
 
 bS It's the tinkling of the sheep bells," said the 
 Colonel, endeavouring to laugh away their fears. 
 But the noise was now heard more distinctly, 
 and the trampling of a large body of horse, pro- 
 ceeding at a quick pace along the hard road, 
 soon engrossed all our attention. 
 
OAKLEIGH. 1*27 
 
 " It's a patrole," said Edwards. 
 
 " They are at the gate," said Grace Merton. 
 
 Presently the clattering of swords and scab- 
 bards, chains, &c. was heard upon the lawn, and 
 the next minute the trampling of horses' feet 
 announced the arrival of a body of cavalry in 
 front of the house. 
 
 "Halt!" shouted a stentorian voice: " Ser- 
 geant and six file to the rear of the premises, 
 twelve to the right, twelve to the left, — march !" 
 And the next moment the clash of arms and 
 snorting of steeds echoed on every side, while a 
 thundering knock rang upon the hall door. 
 
 " Regularly besieged,'' said the Colonel, look- 
 ing towards me. " What can be the meaning of 
 all this, Eustace Oakleigh ?" 
 
 " I declare I cannot pretend to say,'' I re- 
 plied ; {< I have witnessed so many strange sights 
 to-night, that " 
 
 But the Colonel winked hard at me, and 
 nodded at the girls ; — " there Blanche, girl, let 
 me go," continued he. — " I must open the hall 
 
128 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 door : I don't wish to have it said that my door 
 was broken in by my fellow-soldiers." 
 
 Then taking a sword from above the mantel- 
 piece, whilst I possessed myself of another vene- 
 rable weapon, more ornamental than useful, we 
 hastened to the hall door, when the Colonel 
 loudly demanded why he was disturbed at that 
 hour of the night, and who it was that disturbed 
 him. 
 
 A loud, long, and very offensive peal of 
 knocking was the reply. 
 
 " Ye refuse to answer,'' said the Colonel ; 
 " now, mark me," continued he, " if you do not 
 declare your names and the object of your visit, 
 while I count three, I shall feel myself perfectly 
 justified in sending a brace of bullets among you. 
 — Eustace," said the Colonel, in a lower voice, 
 " you will find my double-barrelled pistols loaded 
 in my bed-room." 
 
 But before I had time to fetch these deadly 
 weapons, a voice from without demanded admit- 
 tance in the king's name. — " We are a party of 
 
OAKLEIGH. 129 
 
 dragoons, and the Castle Dellon Cossacks," said 
 a voice I now recognized to be Glin Dellon's. 
 
 " Why did you not say so at once?" said the 
 Colonel, opening the door. 
 
 '* We are not bound to answer all those ques- 
 tions," said Dellon, swaggering insolently into 
 the hall, trailing his sword after him. " I say, 
 Lane," continued he, "put sentries on that door, 
 and keep it open : Lieutenant, take a file of men 
 and search the house." 
 
 Droughtnot entered the hall, followed by 
 several yeomen, with drawn swords in their 
 hands, and insolently demanded a light from the 
 Colonel, who, boiling with indignation, looked 
 fiercely at Dellon, whilst he exclaimed — 
 
 " You shall answer for this conduct, sir, else- 
 where ; by heaven, you shall." 
 
 " When I like," replied Dellon, insolently. 
 "Come, sir," continued he, " will you take upon 
 yourself to say you harbour no rebels in your 
 house at this moment ?" 
 
 " This is no question to ask a loyal man," 
 o 2 
 
130 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 said the Colonel, haughtily. " Search the house," 
 continued he, " and by my honour if you do not 
 find a rebel, Glin Dellon, either you or I shall 
 perish before this door." 
 
 The Colonel's just indignation seemed to have 
 brought down Dellon's bullying disposition a 
 little, and he replied, 
 
 " Well, since you have no rebels in your house, 
 I suppose I must take your parole for it ; though 
 my informations are rather strong, and the man 
 has a rope about his neck. Bring forward the 
 prisoner," continued he ; and presently a thick- 
 set, red-headed, ruffianly-looking peasant was 
 dragged into the hall. 
 
 " I'll swear it," gasped the man, " I'll take 
 my book oath of it ; I saw the pair of them go 
 into this house not an hour ago." 
 
 "Take him out, Droughtnot," said Dellon, 
 coolly, " and sling him up to the branch of the 
 ash tree." 
 
 " Holy Virgin !" cried the wretch, throwing 
 himself upon his knees before Dellon, " is it for 
 
OAKLEIGH. 131 
 
 this I have gone through cold and hardship, 
 bogs and curraghs, mountains and valleys, for 
 many a long night ? Is it for this I dogged him 
 from castle to cabin, from house to house ; and 
 is this my reward after all ? Is this the way 
 the Government rewards ?" 
 
 " Silence, rascal," interrupted Dellon, spurn- 
 ing the wretch with his foot, " you'll never lead 
 his Majesty's troops on a fool's errand again. 
 Ramshead, see him hanged," continued he ; 
 " and to make all sure, drive a brace of bullets 
 through him before you take him down." 
 
 The wretch looked round for mercy, and 
 uttered a wild cry, as the yeoman proceeded to 
 drag him away. 
 
 I now stepped forward and expostulated with 
 Dellon, who eyed me with a sullen scowl. 
 " The man may be mistaken," said I, " I entered 
 this house about an hour ago, with a gentleman 
 who has met with an accident." 
 
 " I am right, I am saved," cried the prisoner, 
 breaking from the yeoman. 
 
132 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 " Keep that man in close custody," said 
 Dellon. " This is a strange story of yours, Mr. 
 Oakleigh," said he, turning to me ; " there's 
 your companion ?" 
 
 " Seated by my fire-side, and under my pro- 
 tection," said the Colonel, stepping forward. 
 
 " Excuse me," said Dellon, addressing the 
 Colonel with something like constrained polite- 
 ness, " I must speak with the strange gentle- 
 man." 
 
 " He is suffering from the effect of a severe 
 fall," said the Colonel, advancing to the parlour 
 door ; " but enter, and satisfy yourself." 
 
 Dellon did not require a second invitation ; 
 he entered the parlour, followed by Droughtnot 
 and Ramshead ; while the Colonel requested the 
 aforesaid dragoon officer, Lawson Lane, who 
 seemed sadly put out by this night's expedition, 
 to follow their example. 
 
 " I was not prepared to meet the ladies at 
 this unseasonable hour," said Dellon, doffing his 
 helmet. 
 
OAKLEIGH. 133 
 
 " And we did not expect to receive visitors 
 at such a late hour," retorted Miss Trevordale. 
 
 " But you seem to have already more visitors 
 than one, even at this late hour," said Dellon, 
 pointing at Edwards, who was quietly seated by 
 the fire. 
 
 '• This is the gentleman who met with the 
 accident," said the Colonel. 
 
 " Gentleman, indeed," said Dellon, with a 
 sneer. " Scullogue,* I should say, was a fitter 
 title for him." 
 
 " Or spalpeen, "f said Droughtnot, with a 
 coarse laugh. 
 
 " Or sculkrogue," said Ramshead, echoing 
 his superior officers. 
 
 " Well said, Ramshead," cried a yeoman in 
 the hall. 
 
 " Go on, gentlemen ; go on," said the Colonel, 
 endeavouring to suppress his wrath in an ironical 
 tone ; " break into my house, alarm my family, 
 insult my friends, abuse myself. Go on ! What 
 
 Small farmer. t Labourer. 
 
134 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 would you have more ? Ransack the house, my 
 masters ; nay, sit down and sup your fill." 
 
 Here, obeying to the letter, Droughtnot and 
 Ramshead sat down very unceremoniously at 
 the supper table. 
 
 " Help yourselves," said the Colonel; " but 
 mark me," cried he, with a sudden burst of 
 wrath, which caused even the impetuous and 
 thirsty Droughtnot to set down his glass un- 
 tasted ; " a day of reckoning is at hand." 
 
 Here Lieutenant Lane raised his weak voice, 
 and begged to assure Colonel Trevordale that 
 he merely acted under orders ; cursed the dis- 
 agreeable duty, fagging his men and breaking 
 his horse's knees to no purpose. He apologised 
 to the ladies for his intrusion, and hoped they 
 would have compassion upon him. 
 
 " Be seated, gentlemen,'' said the Colonel ; 
 " and you, my friend Eustace and Mr. Edwards, 
 resume your chairs at the table. This visit has, 
 I doubt not, originated in some mistake ; that 
 miscreant or fool has led you a wild goose 
 chase." 
 
OAKLEIGH. 135 
 
 Edwards declined resuming his seat at the 
 table ; he said he felt fatigued, and wished to 
 retire. 
 
 " There are two words to that bargain," said 
 Dellon ; "it is my duty to inform you that I 
 am a magistrate, and captain of a corps of yeo- 
 manry to boot ; and therefore it is my duty to 
 ask you a few questions before you retire. In 
 the first place, your name is Edwards?" 
 
 Edwards nodded assent* 
 
 " Write that down, Droughtnot," said Dellon, 
 turning to his worthy lieutenant, who had ar- 
 ranged some paper on the table-cloth, and pro- 
 ceeded very deliberately to write, eat, and drink 
 alternately. 
 
 " Where do you come from ?" said Dellon, 
 continuing his examination. 
 
 " From Dublin," replied Edwards. 
 
 " And where are you going to ?" 
 
 " Cashel," was the reply. 
 
 " And you reside ?" continued the Captain. 
 
 " Between Dublin and Cashel." 
 
136 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 " Note that down, Droughtnot. And your 
 profession or calling is that of " 
 
 " Surveyor," was the reply. 
 
 " And your object in visiting this part of the 
 country," persisted Dellon. 
 
 " Was to survey the country," said Edwards. 
 
 " Humph !" said Dellon , " Is it at night you 
 generally survey the country ?" 
 
 " I survey it when it suits my convenience," 
 said Edwards, rising proudly. 
 
 " You'll not survey it to-night, without my 
 leave," said Dellon, rising also. 
 
 " Stand back, at your peril," said Edwards, 
 raising his hand, as Dellon seemed to intend 
 violence towards him. 
 
 " You're my prisoner," cried Dellon ; " I 
 arrest you in the King's name ; and I tell you 
 roundly, you must be searched at once." 
 
 16 Never !" replied Edwards, sternly, " will I 
 submit to any such indignity." 
 
 " And never will I stand by and witness such 
 an outrage tamely," said I. 
 
OAKLEIGH. 137 
 
 " Don't interfere, Mr. Oakleigh," cried Del- 
 Ion, pale with rage. 
 
 u Arrest him, sir/' cried Droughtnot, " let 
 us tie the pair of them back to back." 
 
 " Keep your distance, fellow," said I, facing 
 Droughtnot, who advanced towards me with a 
 sword, whilst 1 hastily drew the Colonel's Toledo 
 trusty from its sheath, and stood on the defen- 
 sive ; whilst Edwards, nothing daunted by the 
 odds against him, drew a pistol and a dagger 
 from his coat pocket, and prepared for the 
 onset. 
 
 " Lay down your arms," cried Dellon, raising 
 his sword. 
 
 M There are two words to that bargain/ 5 said 
 Edwards, presenting his pistol. 
 
 " Cut him down, Captain," cried Ramshead, 
 clapping Dellon on the back. 
 
 " Forbear ! if you be men of honour," said 
 Blanche Trevordale, stepping between us ; then, 
 addressing Dellon, she added : — " Put up your 
 sword, 1 will be responsible for this stranger's 
 
138 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 forthcoming in the morning ;"— and having said 
 
 so, the poor girl, overpowered by her feelings, 
 
 fainted. 
 
 " You will kill my daughter among you,'* 
 
 cried the Colonel, catching her in his arms ; 
 
 " your untimely brawl, — your mad intrusions ; 
 
 her colour is gone ; — Grace ! — some water ;-^- 
 
 air, air, — throw open the windows !" 
 
 Thus called upon by the distracted father, 
 
 friends and foes united in their exertions to 
 recal his daughter to life, and the windows 
 
 being thrown open, a wintry blast swept through 
 the room, extinguished the candles, and in- 
 creased our confusion ; after some delay, a light 
 having been procured, Miss Trevordale was 
 supported by Grace and the Colonel to her 
 chamber ; — and it was then discovered that 
 Edwards was missing. — One said he made his 
 exit by the window, a feat easily accomplished, 
 as it was only a few feet from the ground ; 
 while another maintained that he had walked 
 quietly out of the house, by the front door, 
 
OAKLEIGH. 139 
 
 without as much as saying good night. For my 
 own part, I was glad he had escaped ; though 
 I was not quite satisfied at his retreating, 
 without having spoken to me, or hinted that 
 such was his intention. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The sudden disappearance of the stranger, 
 confirmed Dellon in his unfavourable opinion 
 concerning him. 
 
 " What say the people at the Lodge ?" said 
 he, turning to a yeoman who had been de- 
 spatched to make inquiries. 
 
 "The people were in bed," replied the man ; 
 "but they say they heard some horsemen 
 galloping past the gate a few minutes ago." 
 
 " To horse, to horse," shouted Dellon, "let 
 us not waste any more time in idle conjecture ; 
 let us scour the country, he cannot escape." 
 
 i( Mount, mount," cried several voices ; and 
 in a few minutes, the mingled troop of regular 
 
OAKLEIGH. 141 
 
 and irregular horse, departed at full trot from 
 Trevordale. 
 
 The Colonel returned to the parlour ; he told 
 me Blanche was better ; she had slowly reco- 
 vered, and had now sank into a peaceful sleep. 
 
 " For my own part," said he, " I do not think 
 it worth while to retire ; but you are fatigued 
 and excited, you need repose ; go to my 
 chamber." 
 
 I begged to interrupt the kind Colonel, assured 
 him he needed repose more than 1 did ; that Sir 
 Carnaby would sit up till morning, waiting my 
 return ; wished him good night, and still retain- 
 ing the old sword in my hand, I hastened to the 
 stable, adjusted the saddle upon Whitefoot's 
 back, who had made the best use of his time, 
 and without the least reluctance ambled away 
 from the hospitable rack and manger, as fresh 
 and willing as ever. 
 
 My first impulse was to turn towards Rohan 
 Abbey, but the trampling of the cavalry, progres- 
 sing in another direction, and with the avowed 
 
142 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 intention of pursuing Edwards, determined the 
 point, and I followed them. 
 
 * Who have we here ?" said Dellon, turning 
 sharply round, as I joined the troop. 
 
 " Only young Oakleigh," said Ramshead. 
 
 " The more the merrier,' ' said one of the 
 yeomen. 
 
 And Dellon rode forward, to confer with his 
 Lieutenant, who was mounted on the powerful 
 black horse he had taken from the priest. The 
 spy, or informer, was a close prisoner; he rode 
 upon his own horse, between a dragoon and a 
 yeoman ; and from the furtive glances he cast 
 behind him, seemed to anticipate some foul play. 
 
 After an hour's ride, during which the privates 
 had grumbled a good deal at the smartness of 
 the pace, we approached a place where three 
 roads met, called the Martyr's Cross, — a bleak, 
 wild situation, in which, nevertheless, a miser- 
 able public-house reared its sign ; and this house 
 was presently invested by the troop, while Dellon 
 ordered several of his men to dismount, and 
 
OAKLEIGH. 143 
 
 search the house ; a ceremony the hostess loudly 
 declaimed against, — alternately clapping and 
 wringing her hands, as the yeomen ransacked 
 the house in vain ; the only male upon the pre- 
 mises being a lame youth of 17 or 18 years of 
 age, who acted as a helper and man of all work. 
 M Bring out that rascal," cried Dellon, who 
 had not dismounted from his horse, and began 
 leisurely to fill his short pipe with tobacco, a 
 store of which he carried in his pocket. w You 
 need not wait till he puts on his clothes," con- 
 tinued he ; "I merely want to ask him a few 
 questions :" and the terrified youth, almost in a 
 state of nudity, stood trembling before the va- 
 liant Captain, who suddenly asked him — "Which 
 way did the men ride, gossoon ?" 
 
 44 What men, your honour ?" replied the boy. 
 
 " Tie his hands behind his back," said Dellon, 
 coolly. 
 
 On hearing this, the woman began to scream ; 
 and Droughtnot expertly twisted a halter round 
 
144 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 the boy's arms, while the Captain repeated his 
 former query with the same success. 
 
 " He refuses to answer," said Droughtnot. 
 
 " We will see if w r e can't open his mouth," 
 said Dellon ; " give him a dozen with the buckled 
 end of a loose stirrup leather." 
 
 And the stirrup leather being quickly pro- 
 cured, Droughtnot performed the part of exe- 
 cutioner, and inflicted the punishment upon the 
 poor fellow, who bore the blows with fortitude, 
 and almost without a murmur. 
 
 Dellon now repeated his former inquiry — 
 " Which way did the men ride ?" 
 
 " We'll get no good of him," said one of the 
 yeomen; " he is as stubborn as a mule." 
 
 " Put the rope round his neck, and let us try 
 what effect ten minutes' hanging will have upon 
 the root of his tongue," said Droughtnot. 
 
 A cart having been found near the door, it 
 w r as proposed to construct a temporary gallows 
 between its shafts ; and while this was being 
 
OAKLEIGH. 145 
 
 arranged, the women redoubled their lamen- 
 tations. 
 
 " And is it going to hang him, you are T said 
 a young girl, rushing forward. " Wait a mi- 
 nute," continued she, " Captain dear ; he's as 
 innocent as a child unborn : he was in his bed, 
 fast asleep, when the men passed ; 'twas I myself 
 gave them the liquor." 
 
 " Come, we are on the right scent, after all," 
 said Dellon. " Come, my girl," continued he, 
 " speak out, if you don't wish to see your boy 
 tied up : what sort of looking men were the men 
 you sold the liquor to ?" 
 
 " One was a big boned, coarse man, in a 
 riding coat ; he drank the liquor, your honour, 
 and paid me for it : and the other was a gentle- 
 man, I suppose ; for the big man always took off 
 his hat when he spoke to him." 
 
 " And did you ever see them before ?" cried 
 Dellon. 
 
 "Never!" said the girl; « they were both 
 black strangers." 
 
 Vol. i. h 
 
146 oakleigh. 
 
 " Come, now," said Dellon, " every thing de- 
 pends upon this question, and if you lead me 
 astray, I'll know where to find your boy again. — 
 Which road did the strangers take ?" 
 
 " I'll tell you no lie," replied the girl ; " they 
 separated at this door: the big man went the 
 bill road, and the gentleman went the low road." 
 
 Here a council of war was held by Dellon and 
 his officers, and it was finally arranged that 
 D rough tnot and the yeomen should betake 
 themselves to the hill road, while Dellon, Lane, 
 and his dragoons should pursue the stranger who 
 had chosen the lower road ; and for reasons best 
 known to myself, I resolved to accompany the 
 latter party. 
 
 The grey tints of morning began to appear in 
 the east, as we rode slowly along the bleak road 
 that skirted the waste of the bog and morass, 
 which being covered with fog and mists, looked 
 like a vast sea. 
 
 66 We have been deceived," said Dellon, as he 
 looked along the road ; ''but we will not return 
 
OAKLEIGH. 147 
 
 empty-handed. Let us return to the public- 
 house, and bring in that lame rascal ; you can 
 picket him in your barracks, Lane." 
 
 We were on the eve of returning, when a 
 trooper pointed in the direction of the morass, 
 and exclaimed — " Yon's a mounted man." 
 
 "Where, where," cried a dozen voices; and 
 the object pointed at by the trooper was soon 
 discernible. 
 
 i( All right, all right, now," said Dellon, " sure 
 enough; there he goes, and leisurely enough too; 
 but if he thinks to escape us by riding into that 
 bog, he is mistaken ; his horse will sink to the 
 girths the first step, and then we are sure of 
 him." 
 
 Lane put himself at the head of his dragoons, 
 and galloped along the road, seeking a break in 
 the fence, over which he scrambled at last, fol- 
 lowed by his men, nearly opposite to the spot 
 where the stranger was first discovered. I was 
 much surprised to find Dellon had not advanced ; 
 he retained two of the troopers with him, and 
 
148 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 seemed inclined to be a mere spectator of the 
 chase. I had ridden on with Lane, and presently 
 his men began to separate ; their heavy horses 
 made but slow progress in the marshy grounds 
 we were crossing, and the Lieutenant himself 
 soon found it necessary to pull up and wait for 
 them ; while my horse being well accustomed 
 to the country, soon brought me close upon the 
 stranger. 
 
 " And are you the foremost of my pursuers ?" 
 said Edwards, somewhat reproachfully. 
 
 " My intentions are not hostile," said I ; 
 " I have accompanied the troop as a peace- 
 maker." c 
 
 " I was assured," replied Edwards, looking 
 towards the mists, * that a pass to the Inchamore 
 existed here ; — I can find none ; — and if I must 
 fall, it will be like a soldier." 
 
 " The pass you speak of," said I, " is further 
 on to the right, and you can easily gain it." 
 
 On hearing this, Edwards put spurs to his 
 horse, and seemed willing to ride for his life ; 
 

I 
 
 
 i gp 
 
 
OAKLEIGH. 149 
 
 while to save appearances, I permitted him to 
 gallop before me. 
 
 We rapidly approached the pass, a rude sort 
 of road, formed by the peasantry who resided 
 in the Inchamore. 
 
 " And now you are safe," said I ; not imme- 
 diately perceiving that the pass was guarded by 
 Glin Dellon and the two troopers. 
 
 " Three to one," cried Edwards, as without, 
 pausing a second he rode against the foremost 
 trooper, who discharged a pistol at him without 
 any effect ; whilst Edwards struck him over the 
 head, with a pistol he held in his hand, with 
 such force, that he fairly unhorsed him ; while 
 the second trooper, advancing to his comrade's 
 aid, grappled Edwards by the collar, and both 
 their horses floundered from the narrow road 
 into the bog ; while Glin Dellon, sword in hand, 
 rode forward, to terminate the affair in his own 
 way ; and espying me at the moment, he 
 halloo'd out, " So you are in at the death at 
 last." 
 
150 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 " Fair play," said I, riding between Dellon 
 and the combatants. 
 
 " We are not in the Trevordale parlour," 
 retorted Dellon ; " there are no young ladies 
 to interfere between us now, young upstart ;" 
 then, rising in his stirrups, he added, " by the 
 sword that I hold in my hand, I'll cleave you 
 to the chine, if you don't get out of my way." 
 
 " And by the sword that I hold in my hand," 
 said I, " I'll make you eat your own words." 
 
 Dellon heard no more ; he cut at me right 
 and left with his sabre, while I parried the blows 
 as best I might, with Colonel Trevordale's court 
 sword, which, being made more for show than 
 use, broke close to the hilt; and I was now 
 at Glin Dellon 's mercy ; who, raising his sabre, 
 to my utter astonishment thus accosted me : — 
 " Eustace Oakleigh, I give you your life upon 
 one condition, namely, that you renounce for 
 ever all thoughts of being allied by marriage to 
 Blanche Trevordale." 
 
 " Answer him now," said Edwards ; presenting 
 
OAKLEIGH. 151 
 
 me with the broad sword of the trooper whom 
 he had just disarmed. 
 
 1 grasped the Sword, reined up my horse, 
 prepared to renew the combat. 
 
 " You have heard my conditions," said Dellon, 
 speaking as if I was still at his mercy. 
 
 But my reply was lost in the clash of our 
 swords, for being now equally armed, I did not 
 think it necessary to stand solely on the defen- 
 sive; while Dellon, flushed with anger, and still 
 under the influence of his late debauch, eager 
 to terminate the matter at once, struck furiously 
 at me ; while his horse, alarmed with the 
 clashing of the swords, plunged violently; — 
 recoiled on his haunches ; — reared ; — threw the 
 gallant Captain from the saddle ; and galloped, 
 snorting, from the scene of action. 
 
 1 now turned to Edwards who had mounted 
 his horse, and was quietly awaiting the issue of 
 the combat. 
 
 "Well, Mr. Edwards," said I; "on what 
 
152 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 conditions shall I grant this noble Captain his 
 liberty?" 
 
 Edwards suddenly advanced towards me with 
 his arms raised, uttered a cry of horror and in- 
 dignation, whilst I received a stunning blow. The 
 sharp report of a pistol rung in my ears. — I fell 
 senseless to the earth. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 " Mother ! mother ! he begins to speak," 
 murmured a sweet voice, as I woke out of 
 what seemed to me to be a deep sleep, and 
 looked anxiously around me. 
 
 I found myself lying upon a bed in a small 
 dark room ; which, from the scantiness of its 
 furniture, earthen floor, and rudely fashioned 
 ceiling, I concluded to be the best room of some 
 small farmhouse. 
 
 The young girl who had just spoken, stood 
 by the bed-side, and beckoned with her hand 
 to an old woman who now entered the room, 
 and declared she was proud I had " come to 
 myself again ;" " but you must lie quietly, and 
 h 2 
 
154 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 move neither hand nor foot," said she. An in- 
 junction which the good woman had no occasion 
 to repeat twice, as the stiffness and pain I felt 
 in my shoulder, increased ten-fold, even by the 
 slight effort I made to sit up in the bed. 
 
 I now anxiously inquired after Edwards, but 
 the old woman merely shook her head, looked 
 dubiously at her daughter, and instead of 
 answering my question, entreated me to drink 
 some herb tea which she presented to me, 
 and then recommended me to try and sleep 
 again. 
 
 This advice, however wholesome, was far 
 from being agreeable, nevertheless I was forced 
 to submit, and the old woman and her daughter 
 having withdrawn, I passed several hours in a 
 state of fevered anxiety not easily described. 
 The greatest tranquillity reigned in the house ; 
 though close to the kitchen, I could barely hear 
 the low whispers of the peasants, as they glided 
 about on tip-toe. 
 
 Evening was far advanced, when my room 
 
OAKLEIGH. 155 
 
 door was gently opened, and Edwards stood 
 before me. 
 
 " Now don't fatigue yourself, my good fellow, 
 asking questions, I'll tell you all about it," said 
 he ; taking my hand and sitting down by my 
 bed-side. 
 
 " When you turned to speak to me, that 
 cowardly Dellon discharged his pistol at your 
 back and fled ; you have been wounded in the 
 shoulder, but no bones are broken, and I think 
 I may safely undertake to set you up again. 
 I once had some experience in those matters, 
 when I studied the healing art amongst the 
 North American Indians. I have already ap- 
 plied dressings to your wound, which I will 
 presently examine, and in a few days you will 
 be convalescent ; in the meantime I can answer 
 for it, you will be well taken care of by the 
 widow Glenan and her daughter Rose ; as for 
 your horse, I have seen him well stabled at 
 Shane Coghlan's, a respectable farmer, who re- 
 sides in this vicinity." 
 
156 0AKLE1GH. 
 
 Having thus set my mind at rest, and exa- 
 mined the wound, which he pronounced to be 
 in a fair way, Edwards withdrew ; and I was once 
 more left to my meditations. 
 
 Three days were thus spent, during which 
 I was regularly visited by Edwards, while the 
 widow and her daughter watched over my reco- 
 very with the greatest solicitude and untiring zeal. 
 
 Though I felt anxious to inform my 
 friends of what had befallen me, I hesitated 
 doing so ; I doubted the construction Sir Car- 
 naby would put upon any verbal message I could 
 send him, and writing to him was out of the ques- 
 tion, pen, ink, and paper, being totally out of my 
 reach. I would gladly have communicated with 
 the Trevordales, and consulted with my hostess 
 on the subject ; she readily undertook to procure 
 a messenger for me ; but a new difficulty now 
 arose. — Should I communicate the startling 
 fact that I lay wounded in the widow's house, 
 and had dared to raise my arm against one 
 bearing a royal commission; should I inform 
 
OAKLEIGH. 157 
 
 the loyal Colonel Trevordale of this, and by a 
 verbal message too. 
 
 While I was thus debating with myself, 
 Rose came to my assistance ; there was an 
 artless simplicity about this girl, which won 
 my admiration and esteem. Reared in the 
 wilderness, she was possessed of those natural 
 graces, which the daughters of luxury, schooled 
 by art, vainly assume ; — she had heard me speak 
 of writing to my friends, and now came to 
 inform me, that writing materials might be 
 procured at the Brancher's, a man who kept a 
 small school on the other side of the Inchamore ; 
 and further, that the said JBrancher would be 
 delighted to write a letter for me ; — indeed he 
 was considered the best letter-writer in the 
 parish. 
 
 * You may say that," said the widow, who was 
 busy at her spinning-wheel, "he is a complete 
 hand at the pen ; — was it not he that wrote that 
 fine letter to Sir Carnaby Rohan, when he had 
 the contested election ? and was it not he wrote 
 
158 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 the letter, that the people in the village of 
 Dunoran sent to the magistrates, who fined 
 them for not keeping their pigs at home ? They 
 say the Brancher walked into the village like a 
 hero, with a pen behind each ear, and a roll of 
 paper in his hand." 
 
 " Whist ! mother," said Rose, anxious to curb 
 her mother's garrulity. 
 
 But the old dame was not so easily silenced ; 
 she said that she had had it all from an eye- 
 witness, " that the Brancher being shewn into 
 the best house in the village, began by turning 
 every one out of it, that he might have the 
 house to himself, and not be interrupted by the 
 gosthering of the people ; but when he had the 
 house to himself, he fell to writing the letter to 
 the magistrates ; — he was full of irony, and bit- 
 terness, and anger ; — he asked them, how they 
 would like to have the pigs in their own par- 
 lours ?" 
 
 61 Whist ! mother, whist !" said Rose again. 
 
 But the old woman continued to repeat such 
 
OAKLEIGH. 159 
 
 portions of the letter as she recollected ; and as 
 a proof of the goodness of his penmanship, de- 
 clared, "that the screeching of his pen was 
 heard all over the village ;" and that when he 
 had done, the people saw a steam rising from 
 the roof of the house, exactly over the place on 
 which he sat ; which was another proof of the 
 heat and earnestness of Brancher Brady on that 
 momentous occasion. 
 
 But notwithstanding all the widow could 
 urge in the Brancher's favour, I declined his 
 services ; at the same time requested Rose to 
 send to him for writing materials, and a bare- 
 legged messenger was instantly dispatched. 
 
 Towards evening the messenger returned, 
 minus pen, ink, and paper, with the unwelcome 
 intelligence that the Brancher was dressing him- 
 self, and would presently arrive. On hearing 
 this, I resolved not to see him, and once more 
 stretched upon my lonely couch, anxiously 
 awaiting Edwards' arrival. 
 
 Before dusk a brisk footstep was heard ap- 
 
160 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 proaching the cottage, and the door was im- 
 mediately unlatched by one who familiarly 
 entered the house with the usual salutation, 
 " God save all here." 
 
 " You're welcome, Brancher," said the widow, 
 " sit down by the fire ;" and the Brancher being 
 seated, a whispering sort of conversation was 
 carried on between them. 
 
 The Brancher seemed disappointed, for Rose 
 presently entered my room with some very 
 dubious looking paper, pens, and ink-bottle, and 
 informed me that the Brancher had brought 
 them himself, laying considerable emphasis on 
 the third person, and would write a few lines for 
 me in a minute : " And besides," said Rose, 
 " you know Mr. Edwards desired you not to use 
 your arm, sir." 
 
 But the Brancher now introduced himself 
 into the room. He came, he said, in propria 
 persona, and was ready to write a last will and 
 testament, a love letter, or a prescription, as the 
 case required. 
 
OAKLEIGH. 161 
 
 There was something so comical in the man's 
 appearance that I could scarcely refrain from 
 laughing in his face. He was a tall, broad- 
 shouldered fellow, turned fifty, and was it not 
 for an expression of cunning and humour, that 
 occasionally leered from the corner of his gray 
 eye, and illuminated his heavy, smoke-dried 
 visage, he might have passed for a regular coun- 
 try clown; nevertheless, there was a ludicrous 
 gravity in every thing he said and did, that at 
 once accounted for his success amongst his vola- 
 tile and hasty neighbours. 
 
 Finding it useless to remonstrate, I permitted 
 the Brancher to seat himself at a small deal 
 table, upon which he arranged his writing ma- 
 terials, and then holding a pen between him and 
 the light, he began to inform me of what he 
 called his numerous evacuations : he was land- 
 surveyor, schoolmaster, doctor, farrier, clerk, 
 lawyer, peace-maker, poet, and lastly scribe of 
 the parish ; that he was called the Brancher 
 because he did not lie grovelling at the root of 
 
16*2 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 the tree of knowledge, like his contemporaries, 
 but had clomb boldly up the stem, and into the 
 branches, where he enjoyed the choice fruit of 
 that famous tree at pleasure. " And now," said 
 the Brancher, turning up the sleeve of his loose 
 coat, " Scribemus, if you please, for Dan 
 Apollo has sunk upon the bosom of the Red 
 Bog, and the chaste Diana shows half her limb 
 over the head of the big hill of Noctohar." 
 
 " I am sorry you should have had so much 
 trouble, really, my friend," said I ; "three lines 
 will contain all I have to communicate." 
 
 "Short and sweet," said the Brancher, "or 
 at the poet pithily expresses it, ' Multum in 
 parvo ;' like the memorable dispatch of Caesar, 
 i veni, vidi, vici,' only to be rivalled by the 
 succinct note of our own Ollam Fodlah to 
 Balderus king of the Danes, in Dublin, ' Buddah 
 hust braddah Dioul,' which signifies, * Be quiet, 
 you yellow Pagan,' for Balderus ravaged the 
 country with fire and sword ; but the moment 
 he got that short note, he was done for : he was 
 
OAKLEIGH. 163 
 
 seized with such a fit of trembling that he shook 
 himself out of his chain-armour, and became a 
 decent citizen after all. Happy it is for us who 
 live under the dispensation of the pen," con- 
 tinued the Brancher, " instead of being born 
 like our ancestors, under the shillelah." 
 
 I begged the Brancher to enlighten me a 
 little concerning his dispensations, and he in- 
 formed me, " that in the good old times, the 
 Irish kings, princes, and thanes, corresponded 
 with one another by means of their walking- 
 sticks, which they covered with nicks, from 
 which came the proverb, ' nick the post,' " said 
 the Brancher, " thus, when one prince was 
 offended by another, instead of sitting down 
 with a pen in his hand, to write him a challenge, 
 he pulled out his skene, and cutting a few fierce 
 nicks in his walking-stick, sent it to his enemy, 
 and if the latter broke it upon the bearer's head, 
 it was understood that the challenge was ac- 
 cepted. If a gentleman became enamoured of 
 a fair lady, he straightway sent her his stick, with 
 
164 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 a hole bored through the heart of it, and if she 
 returned it, with a ring fastened upon one end, 
 he became the happiest of men ; and when a 
 lady carried a ring upon the end of her shillelah, 
 it was understood that she was betrothed, and if 
 any man presumed to pay her particular atten- 
 tion after that, the lady was at full liberty to 
 break his head for his pains; but Scribemus, let 
 us leave off gosthering : give me your raw ma- 
 terials, and I'll compress them, comb them, 
 quilt them together in such a manner, that like 
 Malloney's dagging you'll not know your own 
 wool when its washed and carded." 
 
 " I merely wish to inform one of my friends," 
 said I, "that I have met with an accident; had 
 a severe fall from my horse ; am comfortably 
 lodged ; well taken care of ; and hope to be 
 able to return home in a few days." 
 
 " I don't mean to inquire the name of the 
 person you mean to address," said the Brancher, 
 purseing up his mouth, and looking consequen- 
 tial, " that would be a breach of the famous 
 
OAKLEIGH. 165 
 
 politeness and high-breeding of the Milesian 
 stock from which I am descended ; but it is 
 absolutely necessary that I should know the 
 gender of your correspondent." 
 
 At first I had intended to write to the 
 Colonel ; but during this harangue, I resolved 
 to communicate with Blanche Trevordale : I 
 therefore hinted to the Brancher, that my 
 correspondent belonged to the softer sex, with- 
 out saying any thing of her rank. 
 
 " O bright-eyed daughter of love," said the 
 Brancher, looking at me for applause. 
 
 " I positively object to have any such stuff 
 written for me," said I hastily, "what would the 
 lady—" 
 
 " Ho, ho," said the Brancher, " it is to a lady 
 you would fain address yourself: — then we must 
 take a higher flight, imprimus; Honourable, 
 admirable, and condescending damsel of my 
 soul." 
 
 " Mr. Brady," said I, " I fear you will only 
 waste your time and paper to little purpose." 
 
166 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 But the Brancher wrote on without replying ; 
 and soon read part of his composition, from 
 which I at once discovered that the real nature 
 of my misadventure was not unknown to him. 
 
 " The Destiny," said he, "who sends the shuttle 
 containing the thread of my existence through the 
 rough web of life : having slackened her hand for a 
 second, to settle the yarn, her spiteful sister, who, 
 being ignorant of the trade, delights in marring 
 her indefatigable sister's handy-work, made a 
 clip with her shears, and almost severed my short 
 yarn in the loom of fate : — but like many other 
 spiteful old creatures, she missed her offer, for 
 at the moment, though I fell from the saddle, 
 my good genius threw a shovel full of bog stuff 
 under me, and saved my head from the stones, 
 while a champion of Christendom, who passed 
 that way, sustained me in his arms, till Hercules, 
 in the garb of Pethereen Casey, took me upon 
 his back — but meeting Mercury in the shape of 
 Dennis Flanagan with a wheel-barrow, they set 
 
 
OAKLEIGH. 167 
 
 me upon it, and conducted me in triumph to the 
 blissful abode of the widow Glenan : — 
 
 " Under whose roof, I at present repose, 
 Kindly attended by pretty young Rose, 
 "Who, like Hebe, presents me a cup of balm tea, 
 Which like Jove, my dear angel, I drink but to thee." 
 
 c ' And now if you have any common-place 
 observations to insert," said the Brancher, with 
 an air of triumph, " I can set them in the notes 
 at the bottom of the page ?" 
 
 Not wishing to hurt the man's feelings, I 
 thanked him for his singular production, — told 
 him he had written quite enough for me, and 
 would have remunerated him from my purse, had 
 he not started up and retreated ; but sent me a 
 message by Rose, who hung down her head and 
 blushed, as she repeated it — from which I under- 
 stood that the Brancher never prostituted his 
 muse for filthy lucre. Fortunately, in the hurry of 
 his retreat, he had forgotten his writing materials 
 on the table, and I endeavoured to pen a few 
 common- place lines to Blanche Trevordale, 
 
168 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 which were duly consigned to a trusty bog- 
 trotter, who promised to put them into the lady's 
 own hands. 
 
 I rapidly recovered from the slight fever 
 which had attended the healing of my wound, 
 Edwards pronounced me convalescent, and, 
 with my arm in a sling, I sauntered about the 
 widow's cottage, and inhaled new strength with 
 the fresh and invigorating air of the Inchamore, 
 which, though situated in the midst of wild 
 heath-clad bogs, was said to be more healthful 
 than the adjacent high lands. My first care was 
 to look after my horse, and for that purpose I 
 wended my way to Shane Coghlan's house; I 
 found the young farmer busily engaged thrashing 
 in his barn : — he threw down his flail, and threw 
 open a stable door. 
 
 " Here he is, as fresh as a lark," said he, 
 passing his hands over Whitefoot's sleek and 
 shining skin, "but he is more impatient to get 
 out now, your honour, than he was the first night 
 we had him, and he has a trick of getting his 
 
OAKLEIGH. 169 
 
 head out of the halter, and unlocking the door 
 with his nose— that's quite remarkable ; he got 
 out the other night in that way, and instead of 
 galloping about like a colt, he walked quietly 
 into the kitchen, where we were all sitting round 
 our supper, and he stood warming himself at the 
 fire, as natural as a dog.'' 
 
 " But I believe he's a pet, sir," continued 
 Shane, as Whitefoot, having given sundry marks 
 of recognition, put his nose to my shoulder, 
 and examined the sling in which I had 
 my arm, with sundry snortings and much 
 
 surprise. 
 
 I thanked Shane for the care he had taken 
 
 of my horse, and told him, I wished to examine 
 
 the old Castle, which stood at a little distance 
 
 from his house. 
 
 " There is little to be seen in it now," said 
 
 he, preparing to accompany me ; " I keep my 
 
 turf in the lower part of it ; but it was a strong 
 
 place before this." 
 
 VOL. I. i 
 
170 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 I was surprised to find the square and solid 
 tower, or keep, still perfect ; though of the main 
 building, which had been the dwelling, nought 
 but the bare, unsightly, high-gabled walls, re- 
 mained ; finding the narrow stone stairs of the 
 Tower blocked up with the turf, of which my 
 companion had already spoken, Shane imme- 
 diately began to clear a passage for me, but I 
 begged of him to desist, as I would gratify my 
 curiosity another time. 
 
 As we returned to his house he informed me, 
 " that this Castle and the Inchamore, was the 
 last remnant of the best territory of his ances- 
 tors, who were Kings and Princes formerly,* 
 they say," — said Shane with a laugh ; " but that's 
 my share of their royalty," continued he, pointing 
 to the ruined walls : " The strangers took our 
 Castles from us one after another ; and T don't 
 know how this last escaped them ; some say 
 the bog all round us was a lake in the trouble- 
 
 * The Mac-Coghlans possessed more than twenty castles 
 in the reign of Queen Elizabeth.— Ed. 
 
OAKLEIGH. 171 
 
 some times ; — at all events, they never could 
 bring cannons against it ; for as it is, if the pass, 
 or bit of a boreen, between us and the high 
 ground, was broken up, I defy a single horse- 
 man to ride into the Inchamore." He went 
 on to inform me, " that his family had actually 
 lived in the square tower from father to son, 
 for several generations ; — and that it was his 
 father who had deserted it, and built the farm- 
 house ; and all the people said it was not lucky 
 for him to leave it," said Shane, " and signs on 
 it ; the building of the farm-house almost broke 
 him, and he was obliged to give long leases to 
 all the tenants in the Inchamore, for a trifle in 
 hand." 
 
 " And why did he leave the old tower ?'* 
 said I ; "it seems in tolerable repair even at 
 present." 
 
 " Indeed, it is little better than an old woman's 
 story," said Shane, taking off his hat; ''and your 
 honour would only laugh at our simplicity and 
 ignorance." 
 
174 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 ' Mac-Coghlan more aboo,' — and the workmen 
 would fling up their spades in the air, and come 
 running into the Castle, like rabbits into a 
 warren. Well, sir, one wild and stormy night, 
 when we were all sitting round the big fire-place, 
 before a roaring bog-wood fire, my father, — 
 rest his soul, — turned to one of the working 
 boys: — ' Gallowglass,' said he, in the old style 
 of speaking, that is in the Irish, ' go up to the 
 parapet and shout ;' — < And willing,' said the 
 man; and he ran up the stairs as fresh as a 
 daisy ; and by-and-bye he came back, shivering 
 and shaking like an aspen leaf. 
 
 ' I saw,' says he, beginning to jabber as if he 
 had lost the use of his tongue. — 
 
 6 What did you see ?' said my father. 
 
 ' I saw the — ,' stammered the man. 
 
 ' What ?' said my father, very angry ; ' what 
 the devil did you see V 
 
 4 1 can't tell,' says the man. 
 
 ' Dora,' says my father to my mother, ' give 
 him a glass of spirits, for it's a weakness has 
 
OAKLEIGH. 175 
 
 come over him ;' — and then my father turned 
 to another man : — ' Rhymracher,' said he ; 'go 
 up to the parapet and shout.' 
 
 The Rhymracher was an old follower and a 
 near friend; he got up, crossed himself three 
 times, and without saying a word, did as he was 
 bid ; and when he went up the wind died away 
 into whispers for a minute, and then we heard 
 the Rhymracher' s loud voice shouting ■ Mac- 
 Coghlan more aboo,' with that my jewel the 
 wind rose with a long wild howl, that grew 
 louder and fiercer every blast, till the very walls 
 seemed rocking and splitting round us ; — and 
 with that, the Rhymracher came tumbling down 
 the winding stairs into the kitchen. 
 
 ' What's the matter, Rhym ?' said my father. 
 
 ' Give me a drop of liquor, and I'll tell you,' 
 said the Rhymracher. 
 
 ' Here it's for you, ahushla,' says my mother, 
 handing him a bottle, ' take a good sup, and 
 don't spare it.' 
 
 And when he had emptied the bottle, he told 
 
176 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 us, ' that the first shout he gave, he heard 
 somebody answer him in the big house ; — and 
 the second shout he gave, two voices answered 
 him out of the big house ; — but the third shout 
 he gave, more than one hundred men seemed 
 shouting in the big house below him ; and upoiv 
 that, said the Rhymracher, I looked over the 
 wall into the ruined roof of the big house, — and 
 as I hope to saved, I saw Con Coghlanmore 
 (the Great) , and his men in chain armour, 
 standing in the big Hall, and every mother's 
 son of them had a bright skene in one hand, and 
 a torch in the other.' 
 
 ' Buddahust, Rhymracher,' said my father, 'the 
 liquor has got into your head, man.' 
 
 4 No, it has not,' said the Rhymracher. 
 
 ' Be easy,' said my father ; ' I'll go up to the 
 top myself.' 
 
 1 Don't go up,' said the Rhymracher; ' or you'll 
 be long sorry.' 
 
 'Don't go up,' said the man who was first 
 frightened. 
 
OAKLEIGH. 177 
 
 1 You'll not go up,' says my aunt, catching 
 hold of my father by the hair of his head. 
 
 ' Bad manners to you,' said my father, pitching 
 my aunt into a corner, with her hands full of 
 his hair, — i I'll go where I like in my own 
 house.' 
 
 < And why not V says my mother, for she was 
 of a hot-blooded family herself; ' take your 
 skene in your hand,' says she. 
 
 And my father pulled a blazing stick out of 
 the fire, and with the skene drawn, he ran up 
 the stairs, and if the wind roared before, it 
 bellowed ten times louder when my father raised 
 the shout, and we heard something like screams 
 and groans, laughter and music on every side ; 
 and then there was a rush like a waterfall, and 
 an awful crash, and we could stand it no longer, 
 every man, woman, and child, rushed out of 
 the Castle into the open air ; and then we saw 
 that the best part of the big house had fallen 
 down, and a cloud of dust rose up from it, and 
 gathered round my father, who was standing 
 i2 
 
178 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 on the parapet, with the blazing torch in one 
 hand, and the long bright skene in the other ; — 
 and when he came down he was an altered man 
 and said little, but the little he said was of little 
 comfort to us ; and he told us he had seen quare 
 things, — should go to the friar, — and soon after 
 he began to build the farm-house, in which he 
 did not live happily, your honour ; for sometimes 
 of an evening he would forget himself, and bid 
 one of the boys go up to the Castle wall and 
 shout ; and the boys used to wink at one ano- 
 ther and laugh, — for they knew he was thinking 
 of the old times ; and he drooped, and became 
 sorry for having deserted the old Castle ; — but 
 he's at rest now, your honour, close to the old 
 walls. 
 
 • . ' I was not aware you had a church-yard so 
 near,' said I. 
 
 6 It's not a church-yard,' said Shane, pointing 
 to some spectral old Elder and Whitethorn 
 trees, near the Castle walls ; ' there is only one 
 stone cross over them all,' said he ; ' though 
 
OAKLEIGH. 179 
 
 they have been buried in that spot, for hundreds 
 and hundreds of years.' " 
 
 I soon changed the melancholy subject, com- 
 plimented the young farmer upon the snug and 
 comfortable appearance of his cottage, and the 
 respectable size of his stack yard ; — told him 
 I would relieve him from the trouble of keeping 
 my wayward steed in his stable in the morning, 
 as I felt quite strong enough to mount him again 
 and return home. 
 
 "Not to-morrow, by your leave, sir," said 
 Shane, taking off his hat, and looking a little 
 confused. 
 
 " And why not to-morrow," said I. 
 " Because, please your honour, now that I 
 have neither father nor mother, the people say 
 I ought to get somebody to look about the bawn 
 for me while I'm out with the men ; and there's 
 a little girl who has agreed to take on with me, 
 and we are to be married to-morrow, and 
 there's to be a gathering here ; — but your honour 
 
180 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 knows Rose Glenan, and I hope you won't refuse 
 to come to the wedding." 
 
 "Is it possible ?" said I ; " Rose Glenan 
 going to be married; — I never heard of it be- 
 fore." 
 
 "" The women always make great secrets of 
 marriages in these parts," said Shane; "but it's 
 too true to be put in a ballad, though the Bran- 
 cher dismissed his school yesterday, to write one 
 for the occasion." 
 
 There was no refusing Shane's invitation ; 
 I promised to be his guest, and returned to the 
 widow's cottage. 
 
 Before I entered it, I heard Rose singing a 
 wild and melancholy ditty within : I paused and 
 listened to the following song, intended as a 
 sort of rhyming dialogue between a village 
 maiden and the King of the Fairies. 
 
OAKLEIGH. 181 
 
 THE FAIRY KING AND VILLAGE MAID. 
 
 1. 
 
 " I love thee, I love thee, what more can I say ? 
 I dream of thy blue eyes, wherever I stray ; 
 In sunshine and tempest, I think of thee still, 
 And fly from my court on the green fairy hill. 
 To the violet lone, 'neath the hawthorn's shade ; 
 To the rose on the cheek of my own timid maid ; 
 While the nightingale sings on the hawthorn spray, 
 To the woods, — to the woods; — come away,- come 
 away ." 
 
 2. 
 
 " And why should I fly to the woodlands with thee 'I 
 Sir Knight, —I'm a maiden ot'lowly degree; 
 1 live with my mother, contented and poor, 
 And spin in the sun, at my own cottage door." 
 
 u But silks like the sunbeams, your eyes shall behold, 
 Rare gems of the ocean, and jewels of gold ; — 
 To courts, and to sports, and to palaces gay ; — 
 Come away; hist, the echo, calls out — come away." 
 
 3. 
 
 " My mother says, riches can never buy love ; 
 And why, with a stranger, alone, should I rove t 
 Sir Knight, you may seek for a high born dame, 
 And give her your jewels, your gold, and your name." 
 
182 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 u Yet wear on your finger this little gold ring ; — 
 And now you're the bride of the bold Elfin King ; 
 My courser the moon-beam no longer can stay, — 
 Mount, mount, fairy queen,— come away, come away." 
 
 4. 
 
 " Farewell to my rock, and farewell to my reel, 
 And mother take care of my poor spinning wheel ; 
 When the good people rise with a dust in the air, 
 Then breathe for your daughter, a sigh and a prayer." 
 
 " Mount, mount, fairy queen, we must gallop to-night 
 To air castles gleaming with silvery light ; 
 Through fairy land,— hand in hand, ever we'll stray, 
 Come away, the wild echo calls out, come away." 
 
 Rose paused for a moment, and looked through 
 a little window upon her humble garden ; — she 
 leaned her head on her hand, and warbled at 
 intervals a few verses of a plaintive song, — with 
 the air of which, the lovers of Irish melody have 
 long been familiar. 
 
OAKLEIGH. 183 
 
 1. 
 
 " I'll go to Holy well to-day, 
 
 And bind wreaths round the old yew tree." 
 " Go, Colleen,* count your beads and pray, 
 Listen, my daughter, list to me.'' 
 
 2. 
 
 " My heart is breaking, mother dear, 
 
 And I look down the road in vain." 
 " Oh, when the buds of spring appear, 
 The rover will come back again." 
 
 3. 
 
 " The Spring is come, and merry May 
 
 With all her smiles has fail'd to cheer." 
 " Now dry those falling tears and say 
 With Summer will my boy be here." 
 
 4. 
 " The Summer's come, the Summer's o'er, 
 
 And flowers, and hopes, may wither soon; 
 
 And mother, you have said before 
 
 We'll meet beneath a Harvest moon. 
 
 5. 
 Autumnal shades are on the hill, 
 
 Autumn is come, — Autumn is past ; 
 
 And Winter's frost, and Winter's chill 
 
 Has fall'n upon my heart at last." 
 
 * Little girl. 
 
184 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 The song ceased ; I entered the cottage, and 
 found Rose busily setting the house in order ; 
 her mother had gone to a neighbouring town 
 to make a few purchases ; and Rose Glenan, 
 for the last time, arranged her mother's humble 
 furniture. She seemed to be aware of this. 
 She was going to leave the home in which she 
 was fondly cherished ; where in sunshine and 
 storm, her young head had been sheltered. 
 
 " And you are going to leave us, Rose," said 
 I ; " but you are not going far away, girl ; and 
 I am sure Shane will make the best of hus- 
 bands." 
 
 Rose blushed, curtseyed, and smiled ; upon 
 which I ventured to rally her upon singing such 
 a melancholy song upon her bridal eve. I was 
 sorry for having said so, for the poor girl became 
 deeply affected. She merely said that it was a 
 common song in the Inchamore ; that she was 
 thinking of something else while she was singing. 
 " They all say I ought to be proud and happy, 
 
OAKLEIGH. 185 
 
 sir, but I feel a weight about my heart, and I 
 don't know why." 
 
 I now thought that the poor girl's affections 
 were settled upon another, and hinted as much. 
 
 This she denied at once. 
 
 " Oh, no, your honour ; I never saw that 
 man yet I would leave this house for but Shane ; 
 we are neighbour's children, and his father was 
 the best friend ever we had. — No, sir, it is not 
 that ; but there's a cloud and darkness over me 
 this blessed day, and I fear some one's coming 
 with bad news every minute." 
 
 I endeavoured to cheer the poor girl as well 
 as 1 could, till her mother returned, and in the 
 evening Edwards arrived. He was in high 
 spirits, and soon laughed away Rose's fears. 
 He had taken upon himself to defray the ex-, 
 penses of the widow's part of the marriage feast, 
 and presented Rose with a valuable gold chain, 
 and richly enamelled cross. It was arranged,' 
 that after the marriage should take place at ai 
 small chapel on the Main, the bridal part) 
 
186 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 should return to the widow's house to breakfast, 
 and then adjourn to Shane Coghlan's, where 
 the more important and joyous entertainment 
 was to be held ; — to begin with a dinner, at which 
 Edwards was to preside ; and to end in a dance, 
 which I hoped to be able to open with the 
 blushing bride. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 When the potent Glin Dellon had discharged 
 his pistol at me with such good effect, he betook 
 himself to flight, and escaped from the wrath of 
 Edwards. He ran blindly forward, without 
 knowing whither, till his race was nearly ended 
 for ever in a deep marl pit, into which he 
 tumbled head foremost. Any other man's neck 
 would have been broken, but Glin escaped with 
 whole bones ; he scrambled out of the pit, 
 covered with mire and white marl from top to 
 toe, suffering from all the pangs of a sprained 
 ancle ; which verified the saying, " that a cer- 
 tain respectable angel, who shall be nameless, 
 takes care of his own." But Glin was a man 
 uot easily put down ; he turned his fall and 
 
188 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 sprained ancle to good account, as will be seen. 
 When Lieut. Lane and his troopers rode up 
 to him, he exclaimed that he was desperately 
 wounded, and had not half an hour to live ; — 
 he then described the hot encounter in which 
 he had been engaged ; — he had routed a body 
 of men who had rescued Edwards out of his 
 hands ! — he had at last been overpowered by 
 numbers, — felled from his horse, treacherously 
 and basely, by Eustace Oakleigh ; — he marvelled 
 he lived to tell the tale : — and the discomfited 
 troopers, who had been disarmed by Edwards, 
 with beetling brows, and many strange oaths, 
 confirmed whatever Glin Dellon chose to assert ; 
 he being an officer, a magistrate, — and of course 
 a gentleman. 
 
 Slowly did the discomfited dragoons return 
 to the Martyr's Cross, where they found the 
 loyal yeomen solacing themselves with punch, 
 after a long and unprofitable ride. And the 
 whole party once more turned their horses' 
 heads towards home. 
 
OAKLEIGII. 189 
 
 Nothing remarkable occurred, till Glin Dellon 
 parted company with the troop, about a mile 
 from Trevordale ; he said he felt weak and 
 faint, and would bring up the rear with two of 
 his yeomen ; the nearer he rode to Trevordale 
 the fainter he became, and within fifty yards of 
 the gate would have fallen from his horse, had 
 not his trusty yeomen supported him and obeyed 
 his commands ; they carried him neck and 
 heels between them, up to Colonel Trevordale's 
 door. 
 
 Great was Colonel Trevordale's surprise to 
 see the chivalrous Glin Dellon carried into his 
 hall, covered with marl and glory ; and though 
 the Colonel had no very particular regard for 
 him, he hastened to assist the yeomen to divest 
 their Captain of his more than travel-stained 
 habiliments, laid him on his own bed, and one 
 of the yeomen was immediately despatched for 
 medical aid, which was happily found at hand, 
 in the person of Philpot Tubbs, M.D. the 
 Castle Dellon family physician, who had been 
 
190 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 already apprised of his patron's mishap by one 
 of the yeomen, and forthwith came in a long 
 trot up to Trevordale, upon the back of a 
 thick necked cob, whose stumpy tail, docked 
 mane, and cut down ears, entitled him to the 
 name of the Croppy. 
 
 No sooner had Tubbs dismounted, than the 
 presence of that important personage was felt, 
 and soon duly appreciated by every one on the 
 premises. He had ridden into the yard, and 
 presently the groom and helper were seen rub- 
 bing down the peevish and even vicious Croppy, 
 as if their lives depended upon their exertions. 
 Anon, Tubbs made his entry by the kitchen, 
 where the cook and her myrmidons, obedient to 
 the doctor's order, hastened to fill every pot, 
 pan, and culinary utensil with water, and set 
 them upon the fire, which was augmented to 
 such a height, that fears for the safety of the 
 chimney were entertained. What cared Tubbs 
 about the chimney ; he created confusion and 
 bustle— that was all he wanted. Mounting the 
 
OAKLEIGH. 191 
 
 stairs to the parlour, he met the housemaids, and 
 presently set them to scrape lint : in the parlour 
 he found Grace Merton, and sent her to hunt 
 for a ribbon and bandages : then telling the foot- 
 man to follow him with his saddle-bags, he hop- 
 ped briskly up stairs to the patient's bed-room, 
 where he found the Colonel walking to and fro. 
 in a most unenviable state of mind ; but Philpot 
 Tubbs requested him to be seated — a liberty the 
 Colonel might have taken in his own house, even 
 without the Doctor's advice and permission. 
 
 The Doctor turned up the cuffs of his coat, 
 approached his patient, and having manipulated 
 his body and limbs, pompously pronounced that 
 no bones were broken, though he had discovered 
 a dislocation, to which he would presently attend. 
 Having felt the patient's pulse, and regarded his 
 watch, which might truly be termed a time piece 
 from its size, returned it to his pocket, from 
 which he produced a small mysterious-looking 
 case, which he laid upon the bed, bared the pa- 
 tient's nervous arm, tied a garter round it, and 
 
192 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 then informed the Colonel he was going to take 
 a few ounces. 
 
 Dellon, who had hitherto lain languidly upon 
 the bed, groaning and sighing, found himself 
 much better when Tubbs began to speak of 
 bleeding ; he even ventured to differ from the 
 Doctor as to the propriety of bleeding ; declared 
 he had never been bled before, and would not 
 be bled now. — Ci Many a good man has bled 
 to death since the days of Robin Hood, who," 
 said Dellon, " was killed by ' a monk in the let- 
 ting of blood.'" 
 
 " I did not come here," said Tubbs, drawing 
 himself up with an offended air, "to listen to 
 old women's stories. You ought to be bled, 
 that's all I've to say about it ; but since you re- 
 fuse, I must only untie the ribbon again." 
 
 " I really think you ought to permit yourself 
 to be bled," said the Colonel, with a look of 
 surprise. 
 
 " But, my dear Colonel, I feel myself so much 
 better now," said Dellon, turning his head 
 
OAKLEIGH. 193 
 
 smilingly towards the Colonel ; while the Doctor, 
 profiting by this act of inadvertence, phlebo- 
 tomised the Captain most successfully. 
 
 The Colonel left the room, and the servant 
 following him, the Doctor and his patient were 
 left together. 
 
 " Tie up my arm, Tubbs," said Dellon, 
 angrily. 
 
 " Not yet, man," said Tubbs ; " we must take 
 a few ounces more." 
 
 " Tubbs,'' said Dellon, speaking between his 
 teeth, " I'll be up to you for this ; you know 
 right well there is nothing the matter with me, 
 
 and " 
 
 " Oh, oh," cried Tubbs, hastening to bandage 
 Dellon's arm, " I smell a rat, I smell a rat ; 
 you're only playing some of your old tricks 
 again, Master Glin." 
 
 " No matter what I'm playing," said Dellon ; 
 " you had no right to take so much good blood 
 from me for nothing." 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
194 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 " It will save appearances, at all events," said 
 the Doctor, as his little eyes began to twinkle ; 
 while he threw himself into an arm chair, and 
 endeavoured to repress his laughter. 
 
 " You may well laugh," said Dellon ; " you 
 see I have at last got into the berth that I've set 
 my heart upon for the last five years. I admit, 
 I've gained the point by a stratagem of war ; but 
 all's fair in warfare.*' 
 
 "Just so," said Tubbs, starting up; " you 
 have the golden ball at your foot, my boy ; and 
 if you don't kick it, by Jove, I will." 
 
 " You be hanged," said Dellon ; " do you 
 presume to think you could carry such a prize as 
 Miss Trevordale ?" 
 
 " Humph !" said the Doctor, arranging his 
 shirt collar, perking up his chin, and looking 
 askance in a large mirror, — " I flatter myself I 
 have made an impression in another quarter ; 
 Miss Merton has cocked her cap at me." 
 
 " The devil she has," said Dellon, sitting up 
 
OAKLEIGH. 195 
 
 in bed, smiling at the Doctor's squab figure, 
 short neck, and rubicund visage ; "then we're 
 all in the same boat, man." 
 
 " Snug as thrushes in a nest," said Tubbs, 
 rubbing his hands with glee. 
 
 " How long do you think I ought to keep my 
 bed ?" inquired Dellon. 
 
 "Three days, at least," said the Doctor ; and 
 the worthy pair shook hands, and laughed 
 heartily. 
 
 When the Doctor descended to the parlour, 
 he answered Colonel Trevordale's questions in 
 the most appropriate and reserved manner. — 
 He had hopes— there was danger, though not 
 immediate, —the patient should be kept quiet — 
 fever might set in — sound constitution might 
 carry him through : and having thus impressed 
 upon the Colonel the great importance of the 
 case, the Doctor took his leave, promising to 
 return and see his patient, at six o'clock in the 
 evening, which being, by a singular coincidence, 
 the Colonel's dinner hour, Doctor Philpot Tubbs 
 
196 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 received an invitation to join the family party at 
 that hour. 
 
 Meantime the Colonel paid frequent visits. to 
 his wounded guest, and listened to his tale of 
 woe with anger and surprise ; and Dellon, im- 
 proving upon first falsehood, continued to pour a 
 tissue of lies into the Colonel's ear, concerning 
 that Eustace Oakleigh, whom he endeavoured to 
 identify as a United Irishman : he shewed that 
 Edwards was a French spy in disguise ; — he had 
 long suspected Oakleigh's connection with secret 
 societies, but had said nothing ; — he had been 
 assailed by him for doing his duty, — he had been 
 wounded, stretched senseless upon the earth, and 
 trampled upon, — witness his clothes destroyed ; 
 but he forgave his enemy. 
 
 The Colonel complimented him upon the 
 goodness of his heart, and Dellon declared that* 
 he would not take any legal proceedings against 
 a friend of Colonel Trevordale's. 
 
 " Excuse me," said the Colonel, " Eustace 
 Oakleigh has been a friend of mine ; but he has 
 
OAKLEIGH. 197 
 
 forfeited all claims upon my friendship. The 
 man who could thus basely raise his hand against 
 a King's soldier, doing merely his duty, shall 
 never be called my friend again." 
 
 Days were thus spent, and as Eustace Oak- 
 leigh did not make his appearance, the Colonel 
 became firm in his belief, that his protege was now 
 afraid to shew his face. To add to his morti- 
 fication, his name appeared in the Gazette as 
 Ensign in a Northern Militia Regiment, while 
 messengers arrived at Trevordale from Rohan 
 Abbey, seeking some tidings of Eustace Oak- 
 leigh in vain. 
 
 The only man who seemed quite at his ease 
 in Trevordale, was Philpot Tubbs : he bustled 
 about the house in every direction, prying into 
 every thing, smirking in the drawing-room, 
 cajoling in the kitchen, frowning in the bed- 
 room, and helping himself to the good things 
 of this life in the parlour ; in short, he was more 
 than at home, for at home, he was scared from 
 the kitchen and the lower regions of his house, 
 
198 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 by a cross old housekeeper, whose wages were 
 not very punctually paid. 
 
 His marked attentions to Grace Merton, 
 
 were soon observed by Miss Trevordale, who 
 
 was rather amused at the complacent lover's 
 
 vain attempts to win the approving smiles of her 
 
 cousin, and Grace, instead of being annoyed, 
 
 seemed to treat the matter as a jest, never 
 
 dreaming that the consequential, vulgar, and 
 
 forward prig, was in earnest ; but Tubbs had 
 
 already made love to all the young ladies in the 
 
 neighbourhood, and had been laughed at for his 
 
 pains. Flirting had become one of his most 
 
 inveterate habits: there was always some jest 
 
 carrying on between Dr. Tubbs and the young 
 
 ladies, wherever he visited. To see him seated 
 
 at dinner-table beside a girl just returned from 
 
 school, one would really imagine it was a settled 
 
 affair, and that a marriage would be the end of 
 
 it : if the girl was in high spirits, she seemed 
 
 delighted with the Doctor's wit, till in the midst 
 
 of her mirth she suddenly blushed, and seemed 
 
OAKLEIGH. 199 
 
 smitten all of a heap : if the girl had low spirits 
 Tubbs entered into her feelings, till at last she 
 turned her dear eyes away, and blushed like a 
 rose, to the great astonishment of every one. 
 
 Tubbs generally effected this happy finale 
 to his flirtations, by pretending to whisper soft 
 nonsense in the fair one's ear; then looking 
 round he would exclaim, throwing himself back 
 in his chair, " Ah, don't say no ;* — though the 
 poor girl had merely heard a whispering sound 
 which needed no reply. 
 
 He did not venture to be thus jocose at 
 Grace Merton's expense : it was a more serious 
 affair with him now; formerly he had merely 
 flirted with the fair ; now he was in earnest ; he 
 wanted a wife ; he was verging into forty years 
 of age ; and should be more circumspect in his 
 conduct; he complimented Grace upon every 
 thing she said and did ; if she sung he was in 
 raptures, lolled upon a sofa, and declared he 
 was ravished; he found wit in her replies to 
 his common-place queries ; he applauded her 
 
200 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 talents, her graces ; in short, he played the ad- 
 miring, despairing lover, and the fool, so inimi- 
 tably well, that not only the girls, and the 
 Colonel, but even the servants began to think 
 the Doctor was taking leave of his senses : but 
 the Doctor was wide awake all the time, and was 
 rejoiced to find that he had made a sensation. 
 " 1 did that well," he would say, as he scudded 
 away from Trevordale upon his ungentle steed 
 Croppy, to visit his patients elsewhere, and then 
 return brimful of love, gossip, and news, to his 
 inamorato once more. 
 
 It was in one of these vain-glorious sallies, 
 that Tubbs, in an evil hour, encountered Rose 
 Glenan's bare-legged messenger entering Colonel 
 Trevordale's gate. 
 
 " Looking for me, my lad," hallooed Tubbs. 
 The boy replied in the negative ; but Tubbs 
 was not to be baffled. 
 
 " What have you got there," cried he, reining 
 in the Croppy, and raising his heavy whip. 
 " Only a bit of a letter, sir," replied the boy. 
 
OAKLEIGH. 201 
 
 " Hand it here directly," said Tubbs. 
 
 " And you'll give it me again," said the boy, 
 looking doubtfully. 
 
 " To be sure 1 will, you rascal," said Tubbs, 
 clutching the letter, and being satisfied at a 
 glance, he thrust it into his pocket, told the poor 
 boy to go about his business, gave him a lash with 
 his whip, threw him a penny, and returned to 
 Trevordale at full gallop. 
 
 He said he had forgotten to give his patient 
 some directions about his medicine ; ran up to 
 Dellon's bed-room, and there the worthy pair 
 tore open the letter, and formed their plans 
 accordingly. 
 
 k 2 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The morning dawned auspiciously upon Shane 
 Coghlan's wedding, and the blushing bride 
 looked lovelier than ever ; the friends and well- 
 wishers of both parties assembled, and the day 
 began with the best prospects of happiness. 
 The marriage ceremony had been performed 
 at a neighbouring chapel-house, — the bridal 
 party had returned to the widow Glenan's, and 
 finding myself a conspicuous and somewhat 
 remarkable figure, with my arm in a sling, in 
 the midst of many strange faces, I withdrew 
 from the crowd, and sauntered towards the 
 aforesaid old Castle, bent upon thoroughly ex- 
 ploring a place, concerning which my curiosity 
 had been excited- 
 
OAKLEIGH. 203 
 
 f 
 
 On entering the low arched gate of the tower, 
 I was rejoiced to perceive that a considerable 
 portion of the turf which had filled the hall, 
 had been removed, and the stone stairs being 
 no longer encumbered with it, I ascended to the 
 top of the tower, from which I enjoyed a much 
 more extensive prospect than I had expected. — 
 On three sides the Inchamore was bounded 
 with wild heathy bogs, and on the fourth, was 
 separated from the headlands, by a strip of wet 
 marshy ground. The Inchamore seemed pretty 
 thickly inhabited, and the cabins were decidedly 
 better built, and the fences better kept up, than 
 any I had hitherto seen ; it was evident the 
 people were not tenants at will, like their neigh- 
 bours, who lived in perpetual fear of being sent 
 adrift by a tyrannical agent or hard-hearted 
 landlord. I turned my eyes in the direction of 
 Rohan Abbey, and saw the gloomy wood like a 
 dismal cloud on the brow of the horizon ; then 
 looked to the north, over a wide expanse of 
 heath, interspersed with spots of verdure ; lines 
 
204 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 of yellow reeds and sedge marking out the 
 course of some sluggish stream ; to the east, the 
 boundary of the waste was discernible, where a 
 light vapour marked the line between the morass 
 and the upland ; further inland, rose the blue 
 ridge of the Slieve Bloom mountains ; and to the 
 west, the noble Shannon pursued its majestic 
 course through desolate regions of bog and morass. 
 The walls of the tower were of considerable 
 strength and thickness, if not, they would 
 never have sustained the weight of the roof, 
 which was arched over with rude and solid 
 masonry. Descending the winding stairs, my 
 eye rested upon a narrow Gothic door-case 
 which opened into a passage, which I explored 
 for some paces, and arrived at another Gothic 
 door-case, filled with a deal door of recent date. 
 I pushed this door open readily, for the bolt of 
 the massive lock had apparently missed the 
 groove when the door had been last shut. I 
 entered a small chamber, dimly lighted by an 
 arrow-slit in the massive wall, and found 
 
OAKLEIGH. 205 
 
 myself in the midst of a regular armoury ; pikes, 
 guns, swords, pistols, and sundry non-descript 
 weapons were piled upon the floor, and covered 
 the walls ; some flags and banners, bearing 
 many devices, arrested my attention ; and while 
 I examined them, I heard footsteps approaching 
 the door, which was instantly pushed ajar, and 
 a number of new pike heads thrown into the 
 chamber, by a person who did not enter, but 
 merely shut the door again, and having locked 
 it, returned grumbling to a companion, against 
 the carelessness of some person, who had left 
 the door unlocked. My first impulse had been 
 to attempt to grasp the door before it was closed, 
 but from the quickness with which it was banged 
 too, I did not succeed ; and while I hesitated to 
 cry out, the man quickly retreated, leaving me 
 a close prisoner in the Inchamore Keep. 
 
 I raised my voice and halloo'd in vain, numerous 
 echoes repeated as if mocking my voice, which 
 was presently lost in the clamorous cawing of a 
 host of Jackdaws, as they fluttered to and fro, 
 
206 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 before the arrow-slit of my dungeon, from 
 which I looked upon the most uninteresting 
 bleak, bare, and miserable pass or road to the 
 Inchamore, upon which no living thing appeared. 
 Having vainly attempted to force the door, I 
 sat down upon aheap of pikes, and endeavoured 
 to read an odd volume of the regulations, signals, 
 and passwords, which belonged to some secret 
 society; the afternoon passed away, and the 
 evening found me thus occupied ; the music and 
 laughter soon announced, that the bridal party 
 had arrived at Shane Coghlan's house. I threw 
 the book aside, and listening at the arrow-slit, 
 I heard the loud laughter of the happy party, 
 and even fancied I could hear the free and 
 thoughtless laughter of Edwards above the rest ; 
 for my own part I was in no laughing humour. 
 What would Edwards, the bride and bridegroom, 
 think of my absence, after having promised so 
 faithfully? — but it mattered not. I remained 
 gazing through the loop-hole, till the shadows 
 of night overspread the Inchamore. The thoughts 
 
OAKLEIGH. 207 
 
 of passing a night, or many nights, in such a 
 prison, filled me with horror ; starvation stared 
 me in the face ; and I listened with breathless 
 anxiety to every sound, being resolved to halloo 
 out, should any of the country people pass that 
 way : but the evil reputation of the tower had 
 long prevented the peasants from passing near 
 it after dusk of the evening. 
 
 While thus gazing from the prison, the moon 
 rose, and threw an uncertain light upon the pass, 
 which looked as bleak and deserted as ever. — 
 Presently I thought I could perceive some cattle 
 moving along it, towards the Inchamore: " Pro- 
 bably stray cows," said I, as I watched the drove 
 slowly advancing, with indifference; but as 
 speedily changed my opinion, upon seeing the 
 foremost animal led by a man. The nearer 
 they approached, the better I was enabled to 
 discover that instead of a drove of horned cattle, 
 a large body of cavalry were cautiously ad- 
 vancing upon the pass — each man leading his 
 horse ; and the clash of their arms soon fell upon 
 
208 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 my ear ; when, having gained terra firma, they 
 mounted their horses, and advanced upon Shane 
 Coghlan's house at full gallop. 
 
 Suddenly a cry of terror and dismay rose 
 wildly in the air, and announced that some fell 
 catastrophe had taken place. Almost frantic, I 
 endeavoured with a pike to break the door of 
 my prison, which was suddenly dashed open — 
 several men rushed into the room, and with 
 horrid imprecations caught up such weapons as 
 they could lay their hands on : others followed 
 them, and the room being filled with men, I was 
 not distinguished from the rest, — caught up a 
 gun, to save appearances, and made my way 
 down the winding stairs, — passed by men rushing 
 up and down, in furious haste. 
 
 My first impulse was to rush to Shane Cogh- 
 lan's house, retreating from which I discovered 
 the aforesaid cavalry, brandishing their swords, 
 and discharging their pistols over the heads of 
 the crowd of men and women, who pursued them 
 with lamentations, threats, and curses. I soon 
 
OAKLEIGH. 209 
 
 discovered the sad truth — Edwards was a pri- 
 soner : the Dellon Cossacks, led on by the valiant 
 Droughtnot, and a strong party of dragoons, 
 commanded by Captain Graham and Lieutenant 
 Lane, had surrounded Shane Coghlan's house, 
 which they threatened to reduce to ashes over 
 the heads of the bridal party, if the men, Ed- 
 wards and Eustace Oakleigh, were not forthwith 
 delivered up to them. The men would have re- 
 sisted, even without arms ; but Edwards surren- 
 dered himself at once, and declared that I was 
 not on the premises. — The officers took his word 
 for it, bound him upon a led horse, and were in 
 the act of leading him into captivity. 
 
 " But it must not be, it shall not be," said a man 
 of stern and martial bearing, turning fiercely to 
 the crowd; "to arms ! to arms ! — to the rescue ! 
 men of the Inchamore : shall it be said you per- 
 mitted the Champion of Erin to be carried off' 
 by the Sassenach from the last rallying spot of 
 your fathers? — no haste, no tumult, — fall into 
 
210 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 your ranks according to your numbers ; — 
 officers, to your posts ! — fall in ! fall in !" — 
 and in a few moments the greater part of the 
 men formed a dusky line, which bristled with 
 deadly weapons of every description. 
 
 Shane Coghlan acted as adjutant to the first 
 speaker, whose voice I fancied I recognised as 
 the chief of the midnight review on the hill 
 side. He now put himself at the head of the 
 column, a low whistle ran along the ranks, 
 and the whole body moved off the ground in 
 double quick time ; anxious to observe the re- 
 sult, I followed, in company with some old 
 men and boys, who were armed with stones, 
 forks, and poles ; the column crossed the marsh 
 rapidly, even before the cavalry had effected 
 their retreat by the pass, which the pursuing 
 party avoided till they had crossed the marsh 
 in a parallel direction, then wheeling suddenly, 
 they advanced upon the head of the pass, and 
 with farming utensils quickly tore up a rude 
 
OAKLEIGH. 211 
 
 bridge, formed of turf and the stumps of trees, 
 and this bridge being destroyed, a deep drain 
 and a body of armed men lay before the ad- 
 vancing cavalry; while a marsh, upon which 
 horsemen dare not venture, lay right and left 
 in their rear, a blazing fire of turf, bog wood, 
 straw, and sedge, was suddenly kindled upon 
 the pass the moment the last horseman had 
 quitted the Inchamore ; thus embarrassed the 
 dragoons, led on by the gallant Graham, charged 
 the people drawn up before them : never was a 
 charge made by dragoons more ineffectual, the 
 foremost of these gallant fellows falling with 
 their horses into the dangerous pit, while the 
 rest pulled up and floundered aside into the 
 marsh, scrambled, kicked, backed, and retreated 
 to the yeomen, who wisely left all the fighting to 
 the regulars, and guarded their prisoner on the 
 pass. 
 
 w This is a bad business, a cursed bad busi- 
 ness," said Captain Graham, as he rode up to 
 the yeomen, minus his helmet and covered with 
 
212 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 mire, " Lieutenant Lane has fallen and two 
 privates, curse it for an awkward adventure." 
 
 Had the people been inclined to have shed 
 blood that night they could have done so, the 
 dragoons were at their mercy, and Lieutenant 
 Lane and two privates remained in their hands. 
 
 " Sound a parley," said Droughtnot, " by 
 heavens, we shall be cut off." 
 
 " We are cut off," said Ramshead, already 
 beginning to lament. 
 
 " Oh why did I ever become a Cossack ?" 
 
 " Oh that I was seated at my own loom," 
 groaned another yeoman. 
 
 " Bad luck to you, Droughtnot, for leading 
 us into this strait," echoed a third. 
 
 " Silence in the ranks," said Droughtnot 
 angrily ; " Ramshead, I command you to tie a 
 white handkerchief upon your sword, and 
 advance, and parley with those misguided 
 men." 
 
 " Catch me at it," was Ramshead's sapient 
 reply. 
 
OAKLEIGH. 213 
 
 " Ramshead, I'll arrest you," said Drought- 
 not. 
 
 " But you are arrested yourself first," said 
 Ramshead with a sneer. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Captain Graham, " let 
 us act at once." 
 
 "Aye, that's the very thing," said Rams- 
 head. 
 
 "Then lead another charge," said Graham 
 coolly. 
 
 " Catch me at it," said Ramshead drily. 
 
 A shout from the people now silenced the 
 disputants, and the leader or chief of the oppo- 
 site party advanced, waving a white handker- 
 chief on a pike, while he declared in the name 
 of the people, that the cavalry might retreat, 
 whenever they surrendered up their prisoner or 
 agreed to exchange prisoners. 
 
 " All fair, nothing can be fairer," said Rams- 
 head. 
 
 " All fair, let us retreat," exclaimed several 
 of the yeomen. 
 
214 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 " I wish Captain Dellon, who sent us upon 
 this expedition, was here to advise," said 
 Droughtnot; "speak, Captain Graham," con- 
 tinued he. 
 
 " Not I, faith," said Graham, "I am ready 
 to act, but not to advise." 
 
 " Then," said Droughtnot, "I suppose we 
 must give up the prisoner after all ?" 
 
 " And how's the exchange to be managed ?" 
 said Graham. 
 
 " Let two troopers advance with the 
 prisoner," said Droughtnot, "and set him at 
 liberty, when Lieutenant Lane and his men are 
 given up by those miscreants." 
 
 This command was obeyed and quickly per- 
 formed. Edwards returned to the people, and 
 was received with loud cheers, while Lane and 
 his men were received coldly enough by their 
 friends ; the people now retreated for a short 
 distance and drew up to witness the retreat of 
 the cavalry from the pass, a matter of some diffi- 
 culty, even without any opponents, for the bridge 
 
OAKLEIGH. 215 
 
 had been destroyed, and a wide and deep trench 
 had to be leaped, before they could gain terra 
 firma, the dragoons leaped over this trench with 
 various success ; but at length got safe over and 
 halted on the other side, till the yeomen com- 
 menced leaping or attempting to leap the trench 
 with various misadventures. 
 
 Ramshead's horse stopped short on the bank, 
 and threw that valiant man right over his head, 
 into the poached mire and water, from which he 
 was drawn more dead than alive, by some of the 
 people who had approached in order to witness 
 those equestrian feats. 
 
 The dashing Cossacks leaped, fell, floundered, 
 bogged, and toiled out of the pass amidst the 
 jeers and laughter of the people, who occasionally 
 assisted them, till in return for their aid, they 
 were rudely treated by the indignant Cossacks ; 
 one even drew his sword upon an unoffending 
 country lad, and threatened to cut him down, 
 for having advised the yeomen to carry their 
 caps, which were continually falling off, under 
 
216 OAKJ.EIGH. 
 
 their arms ; hot words were exchanged, a blow 
 given, and the dragoons, smarting under their 
 late discomfiture, came to assist the yeomen, 
 charged the people with such fury, that even the 
 armed band, who had lately kept together, and 
 shewn such a determined front, were dispersed. 
 The Chief rallied them again and returned 
 to the charge, but the cavalry now had the 
 advantage. 
 
 I had just congratulated Edwards upon his 
 escape, when the dragoons charged ; we stood 
 our ground, Edwards snatched a pike from one 
 of the men, and a body of countrymen soon 
 rallied round him ; I was suddenly assailed by 
 a trooper, while one of the yeomen, who had 
 lost his horse in the pass, laid hold of my ban- 
 daged arm, exclaiming " a prisoner ! a prisoner !" 
 and the next moment I was surrounded by the 
 exulting dragoons and yeomanry. 
 
 They had made another prisoner, who, I was 
 distressed to find, was the gallant bridegroom 
 
OAKLEIGH. 217 
 
 Shane Coghlan ; we were mounted behind two 
 troopers, and the trumpet having sounded a 
 retreat, we were carried away from the scene of 
 action by our triumphant conquerors. 
 
 vol. i. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " This is a sad affair," said Colonel Trevor- 
 dale, as he rose from his breakfast table, and 
 handed a letter to his guest, Glin Dellon. 
 
 " Poor fellow, I am sorry for him," said 
 Dellon, carefully adjusting his bandaged leg upon 
 a chair before him . 
 
 " And the assizes commencing this day," said 
 the Colonel, " he can have but little time to pre- 
 pare his defence." 
 
 " If he intends to make any," said Dellon. 
 
 " At all events," said the Colonel, " I shall 
 attend the assizes and see justice done to Eustace 
 Oakleigh." 
 
OAKLEIGH. 219 
 
 " And I must make shift to attend the trial 
 also," said Dellon. 
 
 " I think you might ask my leave, first," said 
 Dr. Tubbs testily, breaking his fourth egg. 
 
 " Upon my honour," said Dellon, " I think I 
 am strong enough to venture." 
 
 " And upon my veracity," said Dr. Tubbs, 
 " you must not endanger your life, and my 
 reputation, upon any such uncalled-for expedi- 
 tion." 
 
 " I must wish you good morning, gentlemen," 
 said the Colonel, as he glanced at his watch and 
 buttoned up his coat, " my horse is at the door, 
 and the assizes will have commenced before I 
 reach the court-house." 
 
 " Excellent man," said Glin Dellon, as the 
 Colonel rode past the parlour window. 
 
 u I regret to see his appetite declines," said 
 Tubbs ; * bad sign when a man don't eat a 
 hearty breakfast ; — Miss Merton, I'll trouble 
 you," said Tubbs, presenting his tea cup for the 
 fourth time. 
 
220 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 " I am sure my appetite has fallen off con- 
 siderably," said Dellon, looking at Miss Trevor- 
 dale. 
 
 " Young lovers generally starve themselves," 
 said Doctor Tubbs, leering amorously at Miss 
 Merton, " perhaps you could prevail upon Miss 
 Trevordale to taste the ham before you ; and 
 indeed my dear Miss Trevordale," continued 
 the flippant Tubbs, " a few slices of grilled 
 breakfast bacon every morning, would soon 
 restore the roses, which, I regret to say, have 
 lately disappeared from your cheeks, in the 
 most unaccountable manner." 
 
 " Tubbs, eat your breakfast and hold your 
 tongue," said Dellon, " your personalities are as 
 offensive to me as to Miss Trevordale." 
 
 " Ho! ho !" cried Tubbs, " you are growing as 
 hot as Cayenne, Master Glin, of late ; that's 
 a sign you're getting tired of the Doctor ; well, 
 I'll soon consign you to the care of the cook. 
 Eh ! Miss Grace, don't you think we have nursed 
 him long enough." 
 
OAKLEIGH. 221 
 
 " I declare I don't understand you, Dr. 
 Tubbs," said Miss Merton, coldly. 
 
 And breakfast being concluded, the girls re- 
 tired to prepare for a walk to their village school. 
 
 Dellon lolled upon the sofa, and Dr. Tubbs 
 hastened to the stables, where his presence was 
 required, while his vicious horse, Croppy, was 
 being harnessed to an unsightly vehicle, called 
 an inside jaunting car, which Tubbs had bor- 
 rowed in Tremblestown, intending, as he said, 
 to pay his country visits in a more respectable 
 manner in future ; but Croppy stoutly objected 
 to submit his stubborn neck to the yoke ; he 
 bit, kicked, flung, reared, and performed all 
 manner of vagaries round the stable yard, occa- 
 sionally encouraged and beaten by Dr. Tubbs, 
 and the Colonel's groom, and helper ; at last, 
 being firmly bound between the shafts of the 
 jaunting car, and let alone for some time, the 
 Croppy walked quietly out of the yard, down 
 he avenue, and turned into the road to his own 
 stable ; while the exulting Tubbs, seated aloft, 
 
222 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 enjoyed his novel position as charioteer, though 
 he durst not so much as flourish his whip over 
 his horse for fear of accidents. He soon overtook 
 Miss Trevordale, and Grace Merton, and the 
 latter seemed to enjoy the singularity of the 
 Doctor's equipage, and the solemn paces of his 
 horse,— while the Doctor expatiated upon the 
 luxuries of a jaunting car when drawn by a 
 steady horse, and guided by an experienced 
 whip ; he ended by proposing that the young 
 ladies should seat themselves in his car, — he would 
 drive them to their school-house and back to 
 Trevordale, if it pleased them. 
 
 Miss Trevordale would have declined the 
 offered seat ; but Grace Merton, who was 
 a merry soul, urged her cousin to follow her 
 example, as she stepp'd lightly into the unsightly 
 vehicle ; but, at the moment, the Doctor curbed 
 up Croppy rather sharply, who endeavoured to 
 return the compliment by kicking at the Doctor, 
 the Doctor chastised him with his whip, and the 
 Croppy, as if to make up for lost time, put down 
 
OAKLEIGH. 223 
 
 his head and bolted, before Miss Trevordale 
 could ascend, or Grace Merton descend from 
 the car. Tubbs tugged at the reins in vain ; 
 indeed, as he afterwards said, he might as well 
 have endeavoured to pull up a runaway pig with 
 a straw ; he therefore let the Croppy gallop till 
 he was nearly blown — and began to slacken his 
 pace, then did the valiant Tubbs resume his 
 whip, and, in spite of Grace Merton's en- 
 treaties to be set down, he forced the Croppy to 
 keep to his gallop, as he said to cure him of that 
 vile habit of bolting. A new idea seemed to 
 have got into the Doctor's cranium, and, as he 
 leaned back in the car, he declared he was the 
 happiest man in Christendom. 
 
 " And why am I happy in the midst of this 
 dangerous career?'' said he, turning his per- 
 spiring visage and goggle eyes towards Grace 
 Merton, who, far from being happy, felt 
 very little at her ease, and could not divine the 
 cause of the Doctor's happiness; " Am I not 
 the happiest man in Christendom ?" repeated 
 
224 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 Tubbs, " to be seated beside the loveliest woman 
 in the world." 
 
 " Dr. Tubbs," said Grace Merton, with 
 a blush of indignation, " stop your horse this 
 moment ; I must, and will leave your car." 
 
 " Dear Miss Merton, my sweet Grace," said 
 Tubbs, " why will you desert your most devoted 
 and loving swain ? Dear girl of my soul, I have 
 been in love with you this three years; how 
 many sleepless nights, what watching, how many 
 wakings have I had since I first beheld you." 
 
 Grace Merton replied not ; she rose, and 
 before Tubbs could prevent her, sprang from 
 the car, and fell upon the road. 
 
 Tubbs now pulled up the Croppy, ran to aid 
 the poor girl, raised her in his arms, and stam- 
 mer'd many apologies ; declared he had been 
 only jesting, — but his jesting had been attended 
 with serious consequences. Miss Merton's fall 
 having sprained her wrist and ancle, she was 
 compell'd, much against her will, to reseat her- 
 self in the Doctor's car ; and Tubbs, greatly 
 
OAKLEIGH. 225 
 
 alarmed, did not dare to renew his amorous 
 strains ; and, being now close to Tremblestown, 
 he told Grace, he would set her down at the 
 house of a most respectable Quaker, with whose 
 wife she could remain, till she found herself suf- 
 ficiently restored. 
 
 Miss Merton begged of him to return directly 
 to Trevordale ; but Tubbs would not hear of it. 
 
 " Besides," said he, turning his horse's head 
 towards a slate coloured wooden gate, fortunately 
 open, "here we are at Naboth's Vineyard, and 
 yonder stands friend Mungo Steadstaff before 
 his own door." 
 
 Mungo Steadstaff was one of those upright 
 sedate Quakers of the old school who profess to 
 despise ostentation, the pomps, vanities, and 
 superfluities of life, and to cling to that one 
 thing needful, as if their salvation depended upon 
 it — money. 
 
 The shrewd sayings and doings of Mungo 
 Steadstaff were the constant theme of a knot 
 L 2 
 
'226 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 of wiseacres in the borough of Tremblestown : 
 they watched the man extending his border, and 
 increasing his substance, as a bevy of idle flies 
 look upon a veteran spider, weaving his web 
 from morning till night, while they disported, 
 and basked in the sun. 
 
 These wiseacres of Tremblestown, of which 
 Tubbs was one, were wont to assemble at the 
 inn-door, speculating upon the movements of 
 Mungo Steadstaff, who seated behind the 
 counter of his assorted shop, balanced his books 
 at a small desk, while his son, Abel Hanks, 
 remarkable for his reserved manners, and 
 lengthy countenance, even as a boy, yard in 
 hand, presided over a rare assortment of drabs, 
 kerseys, lindseys, and sundry articles, too 
 numerous to insert ; indeed, Mungo, with all 
 his humility, was wont to declare, that, in his 
 small way, he had every thing likely to be called 
 for by the world's people, from a needle to an 
 anchor; and to put this to the test, the Inn-door 
 
OAKLEIGH. 227 
 
 loungers were perpetually inquiring at Mungo's 
 shop for the most unheard of articles. One day, 
 Dr. Tubbs inquired for a reaping-hook. 
 
 " Abel Hanks, serve Friend Tubbs to a hook," 
 said Mungo. 
 
 But Tubbs declared he wanted a sheath for 
 the reaping-hook. 
 
 " Wilt thou buy the reaping-hook if I find the 
 sheath, Friend Tubbs ?" inquired Mungo, slily. 
 
 " Aye," replied Tubbs, " a dozen : here, man, 
 I'll pay for a dozen reaping hooks if you will 
 find me a sheath instanter for this one," said 
 Tubbs, setting down a note on the counter, with 
 a flourish. 
 
 Mungo fumbled behind his counter for a few 
 seconds, took the reaping-hook in his hand, and 
 sheathing it in a ram's-horn, handed it to Tubbs, 
 drily observing, " Take thy sword and sheath." 
 
 It was moreover observed, that no man in the 
 town had ever received a direct answer from 
 Mungo, and upon one occasion, the wiseacres 
 laid wagers amongst themselves. 
 
226 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 " You see," said the gauger, " Mungo Stead- 
 staff is in the act of receiving letters at the 
 post-office — ten to one I'll get a direct answer 
 from him." 
 
 " I'll take the bet," said the red-nosed distiller. 
 
 A half-pay officer, Tubbs, and others, took 
 different sides, and a dinner and dozen at last 
 depended upon Mungo's reply. 
 
 " Has the post arrived, Friend Mungo?" said 
 the gauger, as the Quaker stalked past the knot. 
 
 " Doest thee expect letters, friend?" said 
 Mungo, without turning right or left, leaving the 
 wiseacres to settle their wager as they liked. 
 
 But Mungo prospered : he took a farm a short 
 distance from the town, built a plain, two-story, 
 drab-coloured house upon it, which became such 
 an eye-sore to his landlord, who had a handsome 
 manor-house hard by, that he actually endea- 
 voured to eject Mungo from the premises, on 
 the score that Mungo had purchased a tenant's 
 lease, who had no right to sell his interest with- 
 out his landlord's permission. But Mungo was 
 
OAKLEIGH. 229 
 
 right; he could not be ejected; possession was 
 a strong argument in his favour ; and to mortify 
 his landlord, Mungo called this disputed farm, 
 " Naboth's Vineyard." 
 
 But it was in the fair days of Tremblestown 
 that Mungo shewed wit, adroitness, and activity, 
 and astonished the country boors. Stalking 
 through the fair-green, he would make his com- 
 ments aloud, upon the flocks and herds as he 
 passed. 
 
 " Hides and horns," he would say, looking 
 upon a lot of bullocks, exhibited as fat cattle, 
 thereby insinuating in his dry way, that " flesh 
 was out of the question." " Friend," he would 
 say to a squire, pompously presiding over his 
 sheep, "thine is a sorry lot;" then making 
 sundry unsavoury reflections upon the swinish 
 multitude, he would stop suddenly some fifty 
 paces from one of his own men, who offered 
 for sale, in the middle of the fair-green, a heifer, 
 and exclaim, "Can I believe my eyes ? yea, and 
 even so; and verily, friend, hast thee the 
 
230 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 temerity to expose for sale, thus publicly, a 
 daughter of old Fillpail ?" 
 
 The man, who had his cue beforehand, would 
 stare stupidly at Mungo ; scratch his head ; he 
 knew nothing ; he thought he was ordered ; and 
 then would Mungo exclaim, with vehemence, 
 
 " Settle that with thee mistress, friend : what, 
 sell a daughter of old Fill pail's— I wash my 
 hands of it— Fillpail's daughter — settle that 
 with thee mistress, ha ! ha ! Mark the conse- 
 quence, I wash my hands of Fillpail's daughter ;" 
 and having thus by noise and vehemence drawn 
 the attention of the buyers to Fillpail's daughter, 
 Mungo would retreat into his shop, and there 
 await the happy result, as the sale of one of 
 Fillpail's daughters generally put a round sum 
 into his till ; though at last the wiseacres began 
 to remark, that though the famous Fillpail was 
 dead and gone, her daughters graced the fair- 
 green as fresh as ever. 
 
 On seeing Doctor Tubbs and Grace Merton 
 enter his short avenue, Mungo advanced 
 
OAKLEIGH. 231 
 
 to meet their equipage with hasty strides, draw- 
 ing up his drab-coloured eyebrows, pursing his 
 almost lipless mouth, and securing his broad 
 brimmed hat upon the back of his long head, 
 and throwing as much surprise as possible into 
 his square countenance, while he exclaimed, 
 
 " How now, friend Tubbs, hast thou bought 
 Jacob P. Dolittle's women cart ?" 
 
 "No, friend Mungo," replied Tubbs; " I 
 have only borrowed it." 
 
 The Doctor then explained the object of his 
 visit to Naboth's Vineyard, and Mungo assisted 
 Grace Merton into his parlour, consigned her 
 to the care of his wife Deborah, who having 
 wondered at the follies and vanities of the 
 world's people, took Grace under her 
 motherly protection, applied sundry unguents 
 and lotions to her wrist and ancle, and regretted 
 that she was not a Friend, for then she might 
 have been the fair wife of her son Abel Hanks ; 
 in whose praises the good woman was most 
 eloquent ; but Mungo took Dr. Tubbs aside, and 
 
232 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 questioned him sternly, concerning Miss Merton, 
 his intention, and the object of his visit. 
 
 Tubbs returned evasive answers, till at last, 
 Mungo broke out : 
 
 81 Don't deceive me, Tubbs, thou hast some 
 design upon this woman." 
 
 " Well, Mungo, you are a deep one," said 
 Tubbs, " yes truly, I design to make her iny 
 wife." 
 
 " And what saith her guardian, the man of 
 Trevordale," said Mungo, " does he countenance 
 the transaction?'' 
 
 " He does," replied Tubbs, " he's agreeable, 
 and I am ready." 
 
 " Stop," said Mungo, " is the woman willing, 
 answer me that ?" 
 
 " No doubt of it, friend Mungo,'' said Tubbs, 
 " would she have jumped into my jaunting car, 
 if I had not pleased her; but between you and I. 
 she is a coquette, Mungo." 
 
 " A what?" said Mungo, recoiling three paces 
 from the Doctor. 
 
OAKLEIGH. 233 
 
 " A coquette," said Tubbs, tossing up his 
 chin. 
 
 "Oh infamous," exclaimed Mungo; " but I 
 shall hasten, and straightway rid my house of a 
 daughter of Babylon." 
 
 " You mistake me," said Tubbs, restraining 
 Mungo with some difficulty, " I mean, my Miss 
 Merton is fond of laughing at the men, and 
 keeping them in suspense." 
 
 " Poh !" said Mungo, " thy words are a 
 mystery unto me ; but this was ever thy way 
 with me, friend Tubbs : — howbeit, I'll permit no 
 under-hand doings upon my premises, and if 
 you mean to make this woman thy lawful wife, 
 it must be done publicly, so fare thee well, friend 
 Tubbs : go thee ways, I myself will conduct the 
 woman back to the man of Trevordale." 
 
 "But, Mungo," said Tubbs, with a mortified 
 air, " I must see Grace Merton before 
 I go." 
 
 " Thou hast seen enough of her already," said 
 
234 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 Mungo drily, ie and I forbid thee to enter my 
 house, while that woman therein is." 
 
 Finding Mungo Steadstaff, quite' determined 
 against him, Tubbs was fain to beat a retreat ; 
 he mounted the car once more, and turned the 
 Croppy's head towards his own stable, while 
 Mungo, having secured the gate after him, re- 
 turned with hasty strides towards his house, 
 holding his head very high, twitching playfully 
 the long skirts of his drab coat with his enor- 
 mous hands, chuckling the while at having got 
 rid of Dr. Tubbs so easily. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Miss Trevordale saw her cousin whirled 
 away with Dr. Tubbs in his jaunting car, with 
 surprise and alarm, she hastened to the nearest 
 house, and entreated some labourers to pursue 
 the run-away horse, but they soon gave up the 
 chase, as well they might, as the vehicle was 
 almost out of sight, before they attempted to 
 overtake it. 
 
 Blanche Trevordale returned hastily to the 
 house, and having dispatched a servant after her 
 cousin, entered the parlour, where she found 
 Dellon, not lounging on the sofa, but busily 
 engaged writing at the table, while one of his 
 yeomen stood warming himself at the fire. 
 
236 OAKLE1GH. 
 
 Dellon heard of Grace Merton's enlevement, 
 with affected surprise; he assured Miss Tre- 
 vordale, that her fears were groundless, that 
 Tubbs was a most excellent whip, and he felt 
 assured the party would soon return safe and 
 sound. 
 
 He then ordered the yeoman to prepare the 
 horses, and when the man retired, Dellon 
 turned to Miss Trevordale, and regretted he was 
 under the disagreeable necessity of leaving her 
 all alone : but Miss Trevordale felt rather re- 
 joiced at the avowal, particularly as Dellon's 
 attentions had become particularly irksome, and 
 annoyed her much latterly. 
 
 " Here," said Dellon, holding up a dirty bit of 
 paper, s * is a Crown summons ; and much against 
 my will, I must appear as witness against poor 
 Oakleigh ; — I may say, sole witness," said Del- 
 lon, giving a meaning glance at Miss Trevordale, 
 who remained silently gazing^ from the window. 
 " It is a sad affair," continued Dellon ; " it goes 
 to my heart to give evidence against this young 
 
OAKLEIGH. 237 
 
 fellow ; he will be harshly dealt with, I fear, for 
 the judge is called the hanging judge." 
 
 On hearing this, Miss Trevordale became 
 pale as death, as she replied, that notwithstanding 
 all she had heard to the contrary, she was con- 
 vinced of the innocence of Eustace Oakleigh. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Trevordale," said Dellon, some- 
 what bitterly, w I think that is rather too much 
 to say to the victim of the prisoner's revengeful 
 fury." 
 
 « Or rather, to his enemy," said Miss Trevor- 
 dale, proudly. 
 
 " Why should I be his enemy?" said Dellon, 
 biting his nether lip, and contracting his brow 
 into his worst scowl. " Why should I be the 
 enemy of this green stranger ?'' 
 
 " You can best answer that question yourself," 
 said Miss Trevordale. 
 
 " No," said Dellon, " you can answer the 
 question, proud girl ; but since you will put'me 
 to the torture, know that it is yourself, your own 
 dear self, has made me what I am." 
 
238 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 " I really do not understand you, Mr. Del- 
 Ion," said Miss Trevordale, rising from her 
 chair. 
 
 11 Stay," said Dellon, springing up from the 
 table, and speaking in a hurried voice, "Blanche 
 Trevordale, hear me," said he, falling on his 
 knees before the terrified girl ; " I love, nay, 
 adore you, say but one word, give me but one 
 smile of encouragement, and I will be your 
 slave for ever." 
 
 " Rise, Mr. Dellon," said Miss Trevordale, 
 " there is no time to act in such — " 
 
 " What time then," said Dellon, interrupting 
 the trembling girl, " name the time, most tanta- 
 lizing girl, when and where shall I throw myself 
 at your feet ?" 
 
 " Mr. Dellon, you mistake me," said Blanche, 
 recovering her self-possession, " your conduct, 
 your words, alarm me, and in my father's absence 
 to act thus strangely." 
 
 "And have I deserved this reproof?" said 
 Dellon, " and why, for merely laying my heart 
 
OAKLEIGH. 239 
 
 and fortune at your feet, to be spurned and 
 trampled on; Blanche Trevordale," continued 
 he, rising, " you love another, deny it not." 
 
 " I know not what right you have to ask such 
 a question, Mr. Dellon," said Miss Trevordale, 
 hastily. 
 
 " I have a right," said Dellon, with vehe- 
 mence, " the right of an honest, straightforward, 
 and determined lover, I have already spoken to 
 your father ; he wishes to see his daughter settled 
 in life, before he goes to the grave : — you weep, 
 Blanche Trevordale, yes, your indulgent father, 
 objects not to my suit, he has seen my rent-roll, 
 and it is but for you to say the word, and make 
 me the happiest of men ! — what ! do you still 
 reject my suit : can Blanche Trevordale love that 
 giddy youth, Eustace Oakleigh ?" 
 
 Again did Miss Trevordale protest against 
 this unjust inquisition, and endeavoured to leave 
 the room in vain. 
 
 Dellon still persevered, till finding he had not 
 made the slightest impression by his violent 
 
240 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 conduct, he assumed a cool, and more deliberate 
 tone. 
 
 He regretted Miss Trevordale had set her 
 affections upon a man who had a rope round his 
 neck, he pitied the hapless wretch; it was in his 
 power to hang him, and he should do his duty, 
 and then declared it was in Miss Trevordale's 
 power to save the life of her friend Eustace 
 Oakleigh. 
 
 "How can I save him?" escaped from the 
 girl's lips. 
 
 " Simply by laying a distress upon the only 
 witness against him, — by merely transferring 
 your affections from the wild youth, to the 
 settled man. — You love me not, Blanche, but 
 you will love me hereafter, you don't know 
 enough of me, but once married — " 
 
 " Now heaven forbid," said Blanche Trevor- 
 dale, fervently. 
 
 " He dies then," said Dellon, ringing the 
 bell furiously, " do you think I shall permit 
 such a dastard of a rival, to escape me by a dere- 
 
OAKLEIGH. 241 
 
 liction of duty, 1 have him, and I'll hold him. 
 Bring the horses to the door," continued he to 
 the yeoman who entered the room, " and when, 
 proud girl, this popinjay, upon whom you have 
 set your heart, swings high in the air, you will 
 think that by a word you could have saved 
 him." 
 
 " He is innocent," said Blanche, firmly, "I 
 know it, I am convinced of it." 
 
 " Yet, here are damning proofs of his guilt," 
 said Dellon, producing a packet of papers, " here 
 is one letter which will identify him as the 
 companion of outlaws. You know his writing, 
 I presume, and my outraged person, as witness 
 against him, will have its weight." 
 
 Here a dragoon rode up to the door, with a 
 letter for Captain Dellon. 
 
 Dellon opened it, it was from Captain 
 Graham, urging Dellon to attend the assizes, 
 as the trials of Oakleigh and others were kept 
 back, till he arrived. 
 
 " How shall I act ?" said Dellon, handing the 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
242 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 letter to Miss Trevordale, " one word will save 
 his life ; you are silent, you consent, you promise 
 to make me the happiest of men ; there, I shall 
 give up all thoughts of attending the assizes," 
 cried Dellon : u I shall write to Captain Graham 
 and tell him T am mistaken, that young Oak- 
 leigh is innocent : this shall be a proof of the 
 goodness of my disposition," said Dellon, as he 
 wrote a hasty reply to Captain Graham's letter; 
 " read it," continued he, "read it, lovely Blanche, 
 I exculpate Eustace Oakleigh, — say he has been 
 wild and rash, and no more, this I will instantly 
 dispatch, when I receive your solemn promise, 
 your plighted troth," said he, venturing for the 
 first time to take Blanche Trevordale's hand. 
 
 Bending over a small work-table, she seemed 
 heedless of his words, her head was supported 
 by one hand, her auburn hair, escaped from the 
 ribbon, fell in rich masses upon her alabaster 
 neck and shoulders, and almost concealed her 
 face, but the moment Dellon touched her hand, 
 she started up, motioned him away ; his insolence 
 
OAKLEIGH. 243 
 
 and cruelty seemed to have deprived her of the 
 power of speech. 
 
 " Do you mean to mock me," said Dellon, 
 while his eyes flashed, and fierce passion seemed 
 to have suddenly broken through his discretion, 
 " I construed your silence into consent; but 
 your words might as easily be forgotten, your 
 troth broken; ceremonies to the dogs/' he 
 gasped, as his eyes dilated, " mumbled words 
 shall not suit me now, exquisite Blanche, you 
 must be mine," cried he, clasping the terrified 
 girl in his arms. 
 
 " Villain, forbear," said a stern voice at the 
 door. 
 
 4< Who calls me villain ?" said Dellon, turning 
 fiercely towards the speaker. 
 
 " I do," said Edwards, coolly, as with a pistol 
 in his hand he entered the room. 
 
 Dellon rang the bell violently, exclaming, 
 " I arrest you in the king's name." 
 
 " Enough of this blustering, if you please, 
 
244 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 Mr. Dellon," said Edwards, quietly advancing 
 to the table, " this letter will be of service." 
 
 " Ha !" exclaimed Dellon, eagerly snatching 
 his note to Captain Graham, before Edwards 
 could secure it. 
 
 " It signifies not, it matters not," said 
 Edwards, u you may destroy the letter, if you 
 please, you must only write another." 
 
 " Rebel ! how dare you dictate to me," said 
 Dellon, grinding his teeth with anger. 
 
 " Be cool, Mr. Dellon," said Edwards, " re- 
 sume your chair, and write, not to Captain Gra- 
 ham indeed, but to the foreman of the grand jury, 
 and to the High Sheriff also, a true declaration 
 of the innocence of Eustace Oakleigh, and a 
 request that he may be forthwith discharged 
 from durance vile." 
 
 "If I do, may I be shot," said Dellon, 
 sullenly throwing the letter he had just written 
 into the fire. 
 
 " Miss Trevordale," said Edwards, mildly, 
 
OAKLEIGH. 245 
 
 " you are alarmed, you had better leave the 
 room." 
 
 Glad to escape from Dellon's glaring eyes, 
 the poor girl immediately retired, and then 
 Edwards turned to Dellon, and pointing to the 
 minute-hand of a small clock on the mantel- 
 piece, said in a very different tone, " Glin 
 Dellon, I give you five minutes to consider to 
 resume your pen and write the letter." 
 
 " I'll be shot, if T do," said Dellon, carelessly. 
 
 " Then shot you shall be,"- said Edwards, 
 while his eyes flashed fire, and the bland and 
 peaceful man seemed convulsed into a fallen 
 angel of fury, " and if the gallows must be rob- 
 bed of thee, Glin Dellon: — Rangers," he cried, 
 and immediately the clank of arms and the 
 trampling of feet was heard in the hall, and 
 guns and pikes darkened the parlour windows. 
 
 " This is murderous," gasped Dellon. 
 
 " You have two minutes, yet," said Edwards. 
 
 " It is hard, it is barbarous to compel a man 
 to write against his will," groaned Dellon. 
 
246 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 " Prepare arms," said Edwards to the men, 
 who stood in the door-way. 
 
 "What shall I write, then?" said Dellon, 
 t aking a pen up and adjusting some paper with 
 wonderful alacrity. 
 
 " Write !" said Edwards, " as I dictate, to Sir 
 MilesDesart. 
 
 "Dear Sir Miles, 
 
 ' ' It is not my intention to appear against 
 Eustace Oakleigh ; let the bills be thrown out, 
 — the indictment quashed, — and see that the 
 poor fellow, who has already suffered severely, 
 is liberated immediately ; I have only to say 
 that the charges against him are groundless, and 
 I have been most egregiously mistaken." 
 
 This letter being duly signed and sealed, was 
 delivered to a messenger by Edwards, who now 
 relaxing from his ireful mood, asked Dellon if 
 he considered that letter would be sufficient to 
 liberate Eustace Oakleigh; because, continued 
 he, if he is not immediately discharged, I shall 
 
OAKLEIGH. 247 
 
 have a disagreeable duty to perform, in fact your 
 life depends upon it. 
 
 On hearing this, Dellon wrote another letter 
 to the High Sheriff, which was also despatched 
 to the assizes; and Edwards having conferred 
 with his men, quietly resumed his seat before the 
 fire, while Dellon, with downcast eyes and savage 
 scowl sat upon the sofa, casting furtive glances 
 from the door to the window, as the guns of the 
 sentinels passing and repasssing, caught his eye, 
 and he found himself, for the first time in his 
 life, a prisoner. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 On the first day of the Assizes, the Court 
 house was filled almost to suffocation, and 
 from the variety of uniforms worn by the ma- 
 jority of the crowd of yeomen, militia, and 
 dragoons, barony constables, &c. the Court 
 looked more martial than civil; while the Judge, 
 robed in scarlet, seemed to have caught that 
 fever also, and unfortunately for my fellow 
 prisoners in the dock, he supported the cha- 
 racter which had given him the title of 'the 
 hanging Judge' a la lettre ; he had, moreover, 
 a knack of brow-beating, not only the wit- 
 nesses, but the counsel of the prisoner, against 
 whom he invariably charged the jury, and in 
 
OAKLEIGH. 249 
 
 one case openly rebuked them, refused their 
 verdict, and sent the jury to reconsider it, but 
 the jury finding the evidence contradictory, re- 
 turned with the same verdict ; namely, acquittal. 
 Finding it useless to remonstrate, the judge bent 
 his scrutinizing eyes upon the prisoner at the 
 bar, who was certainly as ill-favoured a varlet as 
 I had ever seen, and thus addressed him : 
 
 " The jury think you ought to be acquitted ; 
 but, in my humble opinion, your face alone is 
 sufficient to hang you." 
 
 " Oh ! my Lord," said the prisoner, plucking 
 up heart, " never condemn a man to be hanged 
 by his looks. Just look at Sir Carnaby Rohan.'' 
 
 A shout of laughter disturbed the solemnity 
 of the Court; every eye was turned upon Sir 
 Carnaby Rohan's remarkable countenance, as 
 he stood with his arms a kimbo in the grand 
 jury box, affecting to laugh with the rest at the 
 expense of his face, till, between anger and 
 mirth, jest and earnest, he twisted his features 
 m 2 
 
250 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 into such a diabolical grin, that cheers were 
 added to the laughter, and the crier having 
 vainly bawled for order and silence in the Court, 
 a brother juror suggested to Sir Carnaby it was 
 absolutely necessary that he should retire from 
 the public eye ; and Sir Carnaby having ac- 
 quiesced, the business of the Court was speedily 
 resumed. 
 
 There was but one opinion concerning the 
 propriety of Sir Carnaby Rohan's conduct, in 
 thus forcing himself into notice, even as grand 
 juror, while his relative stood in the ^lock. 
 Though not the slightest mark or token of recog- 
 nition had passed between us, there was a want 
 of feeling and of common decency in his con- 
 duct : on the whole, I was not sorry to see him 
 laughed out of the Court-house, which he had 
 thus unbecomingly graced with his presence. 
 
 Several trials had taken place ; three men 
 had been condemned to be hanged for having 
 forcibly possessed themselves of fire-arms, and 
 
OAKLEIGH. k J51 
 
 four sentenced to be publicly whipped for ad- 
 ministering illegal oaths ; in short, the business 
 of the day, as it was called, was being got through 
 in the most satisfactory manner to every one, 
 save and except the prisoners, when the foreman 
 of the grand jury having communed for some 
 time with the clerk of the peace, and crown 
 counsel, the latter begged to apprise the Court, 
 that in the case of the King at the prosecution 
 of Glin Dellon, Oakleigh defendant, the prose- 
 cution was given up, as the principal witness 
 and magistrate who had filed the indictment, 
 would not come forward and prosecute the case ; 
 and further, he held in his hand a letter excul- 
 pating the prisoner. The High Sheriff held 
 another letter of the same tenor, and from the 
 respectability of the parties, he supposed this 
 committal had originated in some misunder- 
 standing. Fortunately, the judge was pleased 
 to think so likewise ; and, to my great astonish- 
 ment, I was forthwith discharged from durance 
 
252 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 vile. But poor Coghlan was not thus fortunate ; 
 his captors, the yeomen, and dragoons, identi- 
 fied him as one of the armed party who had 
 opposed their retreat from the Inchamore ; the 
 jury found him guilty, and the judge recorded 
 a sentence upon him, which I could not learn 
 in the hurry and confusion which reigned in the 
 Court-house and its vicinity. Having caught 
 the eye of Colonel Trevordale, in the magistrates' 
 box, I resolved to speak to him, when a country- 
 man touched my shoulder, and thrust a slip of 
 paper into my hand, upon which was written, 
 "follow the bearer." I looked at the hand- 
 writing more closely, but could not divine the 
 name of the writer of this laconic billet. I 
 turned to interrogate the countryman, but he 
 was gone ; i rushed out of the Court-house, and 
 caught a glimpse of him turning the corner of 
 a street ; I still pursued, and finally overtook 
 him outside the town ; without replying to my 
 question, he turned into a narrow lane, then 
 
OAKLEIGH. 253 
 
 clambered over several enclosures, at last entered 
 an oak coppice, where to my surprise, I found 
 my gallant little steed, Whitefoot, ready saddled 
 and bridled, in care of a boy. 
 
 " Why have you brought my horse here ?" 
 said I, to my guide. 
 
 " Whisht," said the man, significantly raising 
 his finger to his lips ; " Mount, sir, at once," 
 continued he, "we are late enough already." 
 
 I hesitated no longer ; and Whitefoot ambled 
 along as gaily as ever, following the guide over 
 some very difficult broken ground with his usual 
 celerity, while the guide, who had girded up his 
 loins and taken off his shoes, scrambled over 
 hedge and ditch without crying halt, till we 
 entered the grounds of Trevordale ; and once 
 more I found myself under the Colonel's hos- 
 pitable roof. The hall was filled with armed 
 men, and Edwards received me at the parlour 
 door. 
 
 " You have been detained longer than I ex- 
 pected," said he, " but, thank goodness, you are 
 
254 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 safe out of their clutches. There is a gentle- 
 man," continued he, " seated upon that sofa to 
 whom you are much indebted ; but of this 
 anon." Then addressing himself to one of the 
 armed men, he ordered Captain Dellon's horse 
 to be brought to the door. 
 
 " I trust you will keep faith with me," said 
 Dellon, trembling from head to foot, " I have 
 made many sacrifices this day, and " 
 
 " You would have made more sacrifices than 
 one," said Edwards coolly; " but enough of this, 
 sir, I require you to quit this house in two 
 minutes; you are my prisoner, and refuse at 
 your peril ; conduct yourself peaceably, and I'll 
 answer for it, not a hair of your head will be 
 injured." 
 
 " The horse is at the door," said one of the 
 men. 
 
 " Then fetch Captain Dellon his hat and 
 cloak," said Edwards. 
 
 And exclaiming against such harsh treatment, 
 the Captain was compelled to mount his horse ; 
 
OAKLEIGH. 255 
 
 and being surrounded by the armed band, he 
 was hurried away from Trevordale. 
 
 Hardly had Dellon disappeared, when Colonel 
 Trevordale arrived ; he seemed in excellent 
 spirits. 
 
 Edwards beckoned me to remain silent as 
 the Colonel entered the Hall, and was met by 
 Blanche, who threw her arms round his neck 
 and wept. 
 
 " He is safe," said the Colonel, " poor fellow ; 
 and thanks to our worthy guest Glin Dellon's 
 exertions. There, my girl," said the Colonel, 
 as he kissed his daughter's cheek ; " dry your 
 tears, let us congratulate our guest upon his 
 forbearance." 
 
 " His treachery, his baseness," murmured 
 Blanche Trevordale, still clinging to her father. 
 
 "What words are these ?" said the Colonel; 
 " speak," continued he, striking his forehead 
 with his clenched fist ; " has any man dared in 
 my absence, to — to insult? — you weep; where 
 is the man who has dared to insult my 
 
256 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 daughter?" cried the Colonel, rushing into the 
 parlour. 
 
 " Gone," said Edwards, calmly advancing to 
 meet the Colonel ; " the man who has attempted 
 the life of my young friend, Eustace Oakleigh, 
 and basely conspired against him— trespassed 
 upon, and abused your hospitality, Glin Dellon, 
 has " 
 
 " Escaped me," cried the Colonel, ringing 
 the bell furiously ; " but he shall not escape, it 
 is not too late ; — bring me my horse,— my pis- 
 tols, — speak, Blanche," cried he, turning to his 
 daughter; "has the ruffian dared " 
 
 " Be calm, my dear sir," said Edwards ; " and 
 return thanks and praise to Him, whose arm 
 ever shields the innocent ;'' and having requested 
 the Colonel to forego his hostile intentions for 
 the present, Edwards soon laid before him a 
 brief sketch of Glin Dellon's villany. 
 
 " Monstrous," exclaimed the Colonel, as he 
 listened in breathless horror and anger ; " that 
 man, sir," said he, "is fit for treasons, mur- 
 
OAKLEIGH. 257 
 
 ders, ; and you, my poor friend," 
 
 said the Colonel ; " I must ask your forgiveness a 
 hundred times, for having listened to that viper's 
 falsehoods concerning you. And my Blanche 
 is safe," said the Colonel ; " and my Grace — 
 why does she not make her appearance also ?" 
 
 Blanche in a hurried and agitated voice, soon 
 informed her father of the cause of Grace Mer- 
 ton's absence, on hearing which, the Colonel 
 started up, exclaiming, that this was of a piece 
 with the rest of the base conspiracy. 
 
 " Dolt that I am, why have I permitted 
 myself to be thus deceived," he exclaimed ; 
 " the moment I turn my back, those cow- 
 ardly villains conspire against my happiness ; 
 one villain offers violence to my daughter, the 
 other succeeds in carrying off my niece; — 
 his horse running away, forsooth. I don't 
 believe a word of it ; you were mistaken, 
 my girl, the villain intended he should gallop 
 off. I tremble for the consequences ; but, thank 
 Heaven, I feel myself strong enough to do 
 
258 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 my duty; yes, I will ride to the county town, 
 and demand a troop, at the head of which I will 
 scour the country, till I rescue my niece from 
 the hands of that contemptible rascal, Tubbs." 
 
 But Edwards once more calmed the Colonel's 
 apprehensions. He assured him that Miss 
 Merton was safe and well ; he could not pretend 
 to say what were the intentions of Dr. Tubbs, 
 but having found it necessary to employ a 
 number of men during the day, he had heard 
 of Miss Merton's enlevement, and knew the 
 house in which she was at the present moment ; 
 and Edwards forthwith volunteered to escort 
 Miss Merton back to Trevordale. I volun- 
 teered, likewise, and the Colonel was not easily 
 dissuaded from accompanying the party. 
 
 " I owe you much, my good friend," said he, 
 as he grasped the hand of Edwards ; " may I 
 hope to have the pleasure of seeing you often : 
 — and I trust," continued he, as he grasped my 
 hand also, " that both of you will always con- 
 sider this house as your home." 
 
OAKLEIGH. 259 
 
 We rode briskly down the avenue without 
 exchanging a word; my heart was too full to 
 permit me to speak, and Edwards seemed wrapt 
 in his own thoughts. 
 
 " Poor Coghlan," at last broke from his lips ; 
 " he will not escape them." 
 
 "I fear not," said I; "the yeomen swore 
 hard against him." 
 
 "Another victim," cried Edwards; "but the 
 day is at hand, when the blood of those martyrs 
 will be avenged ; it is a hard thing to take that 
 life not all the w r ealth of India nor the per- 
 fumes of Arabia can restore ; and many such 
 must be taken, and blood shed like water, even 
 in the streets, ere the yoke is thrown off, and 
 our fetters trampled underfoot." 
 
 While Edwards thus spoke, he continued to 
 ride before me ; he was mounted upon a powerful 
 black horse, his long cloak, thrown over his 
 shoulders, streamed in the wind; he raised his 
 hand towards the heavens, and seemed to ha- 
 rangue the dark clouds hovering over us like a 
 
260 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 seer. He spake alternately of the wrongs of 
 the people, and the regeneration which should 
 take place, before his country ranked amongst 
 the kingdoms of the earth. I was amazed, but 
 did not venture to enter into conversation with 
 him upon such critical subjects. 
 
 " Here we call a halt," said Edwards, dis- 
 mounting at the plain wooden gates of Mungo 
 Steadstaff ; " I believe you are acquainted with 
 this worthy Quaker," continued he ; "and, as 
 the house seems to be shut up, you had better 
 knock at the door, while I will quietly put our 
 horses into the stable." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 I did not knock in vain at the Quaker's door ; 
 presently Mungo Steadstaff's voice was raised 
 within, desiring to know who it was knocked so 
 late. I told him my name, but concealed my 
 errand. 
 
 " Eustace Oakleigh,"said the Quaker, "ha, he, 
 — a good customer verily, for gun-powder, shot, 
 and fishing tackle : — hast called to settle that little 
 account contracted in thy capacity of steward to 
 the man named Carnaby Rohan, eh, ha, thee 
 hast something for me ?" 
 
 " Good," said Mungo, opening the door, and 
 recoiling several paces, upon perceiving Edwards, 
 
262 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 who was standing behind me. " I thought thee 
 wast alone, friend Oakleigh. ,, 
 
 " Here is a customer I want to introduce to 
 you," said I. 
 
 61 Ha, ho !" said Mungo, looking ill at ease, 
 "but come in, friends, and be prompt with your 
 communications, for verily it waxeth late, — De- 
 borah hath gone unto her bed," said Mungo 
 Steadstaff, as he led the way into his small 
 sitting room, ''but here sits my son, Abel 
 Hanks, balancing the books after the labours of 
 the day. — Turn over, my son, to Ledger D. folio 
 263, and report unto us the state of friend Car- 
 naby Rohan's account current." 
 
 Abel Hanks, who had not recognized us, sat 
 bolt upright on a high stool, at a desk of no small 
 dimensions, laden with account books, his dress 
 resembled his father's in cut and colour, and his 
 countenance wore, not merely a grave, but 
 severe and acidulated aspect ; he turned over 
 the large leaves with a sort of mechanical jerk, 
 resumed his pen, snuffed two long tallow candles 
 
OAKLEIGH. 263 
 
 deftly, and then pitching his voice to a proper 
 tenor, sang through his nose — 
 
 " To account furnished, nine pounds eight 
 shillings and three pence half-penny/' then in 
 a lower key, enquired if the Harrow pins, 
 leather, and pine, should be posted. 
 
 " Post away, post away," said Mungo, rub- 
 bing his hands ; " meantime, sit down friends, 
 and warm thee hands. Hast ridden far this cold 
 night," continued Mungo, bustling about a small 
 cupboard, from which he suddenly extracted a 
 bottle of no mean dimensions, set it on the 
 table with three glasses, and drew his chair 
 towards the fire. 
 
 " Come, friend Oakleigh, cheer thy heart with 
 a glass of Deborah's gooseberry," said Mungo, 
 as he extracted the cork from the bottle, " this 
 is the only wine I can afford in these hard 
 times." 
 
 61 I never would desire better," said I, as I 
 emptied a glass of excellent old port. 
 
 Edwards echoed my opinion. 
 
264 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 And Mungo, with sundry misgivings and 
 inward groanings, at length declared " that 
 verily he was mistaken, — this bottle," said he, 
 " must appertain unto Deborah, and now that 
 I bethink me, she was advised to take a glass 
 of this same Portuguese wine mingled with 
 the American bark, fasting, by friend Philpot 
 Tubbs." 
 
 64 And that being the case," said Edwards, 
 " we had better recork the bottle, Mr. Stead- 
 staff." 
 
 " Thine is a good notion, friend, " said Mungo, 
 with a benevolent smile ; " nevertheless, though 
 it chimes with my own, not being given to the 
 luxuries of the world in the presence of my cus- 
 tomers, it shall never be said that Mungo 
 Steadstaff recorked a bottle ; replenish thy 
 glass, friend Oakleigh, it is some time since I 
 have seen thee; I would fain speak to thee 
 touching these reports " 
 
 " Wilt charge the planks at three and six, or 
 four shillings,'' inquired Abel Hanks, inter- 
 
OAKLEIGH. 265 
 
 rupting the conversation with his melancholy 
 whine. 
 
 *' Enter them at three and nine," replied 
 Mungo ; " though we lose by the transaction." 
 
 ' ' I think a glass of this wine would not pre- 
 vent your son from attending to his books, 
 much more than our conversation must," said 
 Edwards, pitying the frozen appearance of 
 Hanks. 
 
 " Thine is a good notion," said Mungo ; and 
 then addressing himself to his son, he desired 
 him to fetch his glass and approach the table ; 
 but Hanks declined joining our party somewhat 
 ungraciously. 
 
 fi I have already drank my punch," said he ; 
 " then wherefore should I drink wine over my 
 books ; and * as Abraham Nethersole saith : 
 Wine is a deluder, and strong drink ensnareth 
 the heels." 
 
 " There is wisdom in what the lad saith, and 
 verily, beyond his years," said Mungo, in a loud 
 whisper; " his sobriety is truly commendable.'' 
 
 VOL. i. K 
 
266 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 The bottle went round briskly, and was 
 emptied in the midst of one of Mungo's circum- 
 stantial histories of Naboth's Vineyard, to which 
 Edwards was listening most attentively* 
 
 " But verily the wine is finished," said Mungo, 
 squeezing the bottle with both hands, as if to 
 extract another drop from it; "but now thee 
 must taste Deborah's gooseberry, or if thee 
 doest prefer her cordial, — or now that I bethink 
 me, Abel Hanks, where is that bottle of the 
 African wine sent as a sample unto us by Laban 
 Littlegood, the Company's agent." 
 
 But before Abel Hanks had time to reply 
 concerning the delectable African wine, a knock 
 at the hall door attracted Mungo's attention ; 
 he took up a candle, hastened into the hall, 
 and demanded who knocked at that unseasonable 
 hour. 
 
 «' It's I, friend Mungo, open the door quickly, 
 for it rains," said a voice I easily recognised. 
 
 " And v. ho art thou, then ?" said Mungo, 
 affecting not to know the speaker. 
 
OAKLEIGH. 267 
 
 w Philpot Tubbs, at your service." 
 
 " Verily, friend Tubbs, thou art mistaken, 
 I do not require thy services.'' 
 
 " I have something of importance to tell you," 
 said Tubbs. 
 
 " Whisper it through the letter-slit,'' said 
 MuDgo. 
 
 u I have deserved better at your hands than 
 this cold treatment," said Tubbs, in a mortified 
 tone ; " I think even as your tenant I might 
 claim a shelter from the storm." 
 
 " Humph !" said Mungo, " tenant forsooth ; 
 I wish thee would remember thee arrears of 
 rent, before thee presumest to break in upon 
 my privacy on that score." 
 
 "And may be I have not forgotten them," 
 said Tubbs, clinking some money. 
 
 " Ho, ha, there is something in that," said 
 Mungo, pricking up his ears ; "art alone, 
 friend Tubbs?"' 
 
 " Solus, I am by myself," was the answer. 
 
 " Thee hast some sinister designs upon the 
 
268 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 woman who sought refuge under my roof," said 
 MungOj in a lower key. 
 
 " None, not I, Mungo, you wrong me ; I 
 come to settle my account before I leave the 
 country." 
 
 "Leave the country, ha, settle thee account, 
 ho," gasped Mungo, in great surprise ; " Abel 
 Hanks," continued he, " turn over to ledger C, 
 folio one hundred and ninety nine, and report 
 the state of Philpot Tubbs' account." 
 
 Abel obeyed with alacrity, and presently read 
 
 aloud : — 
 
 £ s- d. 
 
 " To one year's rent of dwelling 25 
 
 To bill discounted, protest, and 
 
 expenses thereon . . 30 15 6 
 
 To soft goods and sundries . 20 
 
 By sundry unpleasant payments, 
 
 taken in smalls . . . 19 15 6 
 By * * * barrels of potatoes, 
 
 taken at market price, hoping 
 
 lor peace . . * .110 
 
OAKLEIGH. 269 
 
 By visits medical to De- 
 borah, grievously afflicted 
 with chilblains, &c. &c. . 3 
 
 Due upon this account, errors excepted, forty- 
 two pounds." 
 
 " Hear thee that, friend Philpot," said Mungo; 
 " forty-two pounds sterling, good and lawful 
 money of this realm." 
 
 " No great sum after all," replied Tubbs. 
 
 " No great sum, truly," said Mungo ; ^but 
 small as it is, I wish I had it in my pouch." 
 
 " Open the door, then,'' said Tubbs. 
 
 " If thy intentions are honest, put thy money 
 into my letter-box." 
 
 And presently a heavy chink was heard in the 
 said letter-box, which Mungo speedily opened, 
 and then exclaimed: " Well done, Tubbs, I 
 have hopes of thee still." 
 
 " Come, open the door," said Tubbs, testily. 
 
 "What?" said Mungo; " open the door for 
 
270 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 fifteen guineas, when thee owest me more than 
 twice the sum." 
 
 Another chink in the letter-box followed, and 
 another satisfactory examination. " Fifteen and 
 fifteen make thirty," said Mungo. 
 
 6( Open the door," said Tubbs, " and give me 
 a receipt." 
 
 "What?" said Mungo, "while twelve remain 
 due ; I marvel at thee, good Philpot." 
 
 " There," said Tubbs, launching several heavy 
 pieces into the letter-box, which Mungo hastily 
 counted, one by one, till he arrived at the ele- 
 venth. 
 
 « One more, friend Tubbs," said Mungo. 
 
 " I hav'nt got it," said Tubbs. 
 
 " Then call in the morning for the receipt," 
 said Mungo. 
 
 " Here," said Tubbs, " take it in silver ;" and 
 he dropped several pieces of silver into the box 
 again, which Mungo hastily counted, and ex- 
 claimed : "Verily, friend Tubbs, thou hast a 
 
OAKLEIGH. 271 
 
 most winning way with thee, and such a wheed- 
 ling tongue ; thee knowest my foible too, my 
 humanity, my weakness ; when did I ever refuse 
 a weather-beaten traveller admittance ? Then 
 come in and warm thee hands at the fire, while 
 Abel Hanks makes out thee receipt in full." 
 
 Thus spake Mungo, as he cautiously unbarred 
 his door; and the moment the last bolt was 
 drawn, the door was dashed wide open in his 
 face, while Tubbs, followed by a gang of ruffians, 
 rushed into the house, collared Mungo, kicked 
 the candle out of his hand, and rifled his pockets 
 in a twinkling. 
 
 " We are quits, now, with the d d old 
 
 hypocrite," said Tubbs, bustling into the sitting- 
 room, from which he would fain have retreated, 
 on perceiving Edwards armed with a brace of 
 pistols, whilst for want of a better weapon, I had 
 seized upon the aforesaid ledger D, with which 
 I smote Tubbs such a swinging blow upon the 
 cranium, as nearly settled his account in this 
 sublunary world. 
 
27*2 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 Seeing that our friend Mungo Steadstaff 
 was struggling in the midst of a gang of ruffians 
 in the hall, Edwards could not discharge his 
 pistols without endangering his life ; he therefore 
 returned them to his pocket, seized the poker, 
 and threw himself into the midst of the gang ; 
 catching up the tongs and shovel, I followed his 
 example, and immediately the house echoed 
 with curses, threats, oaths, imprecations, shrewd 
 blows, and stiff thwacks, whilst ever and anon, 
 a crash announced the fall and destruction of 
 some antiquated piece of furniture. 
 
 Our assailants were of the lowest description 
 of ruffians, the dregs of a country town ; despe- 
 rate characters, who lived by theft and daring 
 robberies, hireling assassins, hardened in iniquity. 
 They had torn almost all the clothes from 
 Mungo's back, and four of them were endea- 
 vouring to break open the door of Deborah's 
 bed- room. 
 
 " Leap against it," cried one of the gang. 
 
OAKLEIGH. 273 
 
 And the heels of the assailant soon burst open 
 the pannels of the door. 
 
 " Come on, boys, let us carry off the prize, 
 and share it honestly," said a hoary miscreant 
 at the bed-room door. 
 
 Edwards sprung forward to prevent him from 
 entering the chamber, but the reckless marauder 
 discharged a pistol; the ball grazed Edwards* 
 cheek, and lodged in the shoulder of one of the 
 gang, who raised a wild howl and fled from the 
 scene of action, followed by the rest of his com- 
 panions ; while Tubbs, who had recovered from 
 the stunning effects of ledger D, stumbled into 
 the hall, profiting by the darkness and confusion, 
 retreated with the rest ; and Edwards, having 
 discharged his pistols in the rear of the retreating 
 squadron, we secured the door, and returned to 
 the parlour. 
 
 I shall not attempt to describe Mungo's indig- 
 nation, nor yet Deborah's surprise ; suffice to 
 say, that Mungo went walking backwards and 
 N 2 
 
274 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 forwards through his hall and sitting-room, 
 twirling about his arms like the sails of a wind- 
 mill, totally forgetful of the scantiness of his 
 attire, his nether garments being torn into rib- 
 bons, in the struggle he made to defend his 
 pockets, while the skirt of his coat, being rent 
 away above the waist, revealed the back of his 
 dimity w T aistcoat. His face was scratched and 
 buffeted ; and the sedate Quaker seemed sud- 
 denly transformed into one of those merry gen- 
 tlemen, called tumbling-clowns, who are in duty 
 bound to bear the tweaks, blows, and kicks of 
 the whole company ; while Deborah, somewhat 
 disconcerted at her husband's ludicrous appear- 
 ance, did not add much to his dignity, when she 
 tied her rabbit-skin shawl round his waist, and 
 conjured him to betake himself to bed. 
 
 But in the midst of all this: " Where is 
 Abel Hanks," cried Deborah, looking anxiously 
 around the room for that valiant quill-driver. 
 ci Where art thou, my Hanks, my pride, my 
 
OAKLEIGH. 275 
 
 glory; art gone to Abraham's bosom, swept 
 away in thy bloom by the besom of destruction ? 
 Oh ! Abel, Abel, where art thou?" 
 
 " Here am I," doled forth a most sepulchral 
 voice, and presently the glorious Abel Hanks was 
 discovered in the venerable press, into which he 
 had wedged himself in suchwise amidst bottles, 
 glasses, tea-pots, and sugar-basons, that he could 
 not get out again, while from his position he 
 seemed to be on the eve of suffocation. I there- 
 fore laid hold on his legs, and tugged away with 
 such right good- will, that Abel Hanks soon lay 
 gasping on the carpet before the delighted eyes 
 of his mother; and the venerable mahogany 
 press being moved by our exertions from its 
 proper place and perpendicular position, tumbled 
 after him, pouring a torrent of wines, cordials, 
 pickles, jellies, jams, and preserves about the 
 floor. 
 
 " It wanted but this," said Mungo, extending 
 his hands over the wreck of his press, "to fill 
 up the measure of our woes ; verily, the phial 
 
276 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 of wrath hath this night been emptied upon our 
 backslidings ." 
 
 Grace Merton now made her appearance ; 
 and, notwithstanding her alarm, could hardly 
 restrain the risible muscles of her sweet coun- 
 tenance. She was most anxious to return to 
 Trevordale ; and Edwards having declared the 
 object of his visit to Mungo, Grace Merton 
 quickly arrayed herself in one of Deborah's 
 substantial cloaks. Nevertheless, Mungo made 
 some slight opposition to Misss Merton's leaving 
 his house without a permit, said he, duly signed 
 by the man of Trevordale. 
 
 " Miss Merton can act as she likes," said 
 Edwards, "but I have promised to return her 
 safe and sound to her anxious guardian, who 
 will not sleep till he sees her again." 
 
 " And besides, if we leave Miss Merton,'' 
 said I, " you may be exposed to fresh attacks, 
 Mr. SteadstafT." 
 
 " There is wisdom in thee words," said 
 Mungo. " Yea," said he, twitching up the 
 
OAKLEIGH. 277 
 
 rabbit-skin shawl, " gird up thee loins, go thy 
 ways, and leave us to yearn over our heavy 
 visitation." 
 
 Our horses were soon ready ; and, as Edwards' 
 horse was steadier than mine, Grace Merton was 
 quickly seated upon Edwards' cloak, and wishing 
 Mungo, Deborah, and Abel Hanks Steadstaff 
 all manner of happiness, we took our departure 
 from Naboth's Vineyard. Notwithstanding the 
 darkness of the night, we arrived at Trevordale 
 without accident or delay, and found the Colonel 
 anxiously expecting our arrival. He received his 
 niece with open arms, and was not a little sur- 
 prised to hear of the attack upon the Quaker's 
 house, the object of which he at once divinec}- 
 
 " You have had a narrow escape, my Grace," 
 said the Colonel, " and the more I think of the 
 sudden changes of this stormy day, the more I 
 respect the man who has nobly stood forth as 
 the champion of innocence and virtue. Come, 
 Mr. Edwards," continued the Colonel, " seat 
 
278 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 yourself at the head of the table, let us forget 
 our enemies, persecutors, and slanderers." 
 
 Edwards would have declined the honour, but 
 the Colonel was absolute, and we were soon 
 seated at his hospitable supper-table. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The grey morning had barely dawned, when 
 Edwards entered my room ; he was as usual 
 dressed in his travelling costume. 
 
 " I called," said he, " to bid you farewell ; 
 you must apologize to the Colonel for my abrupt 
 departure, but it is absolutely necessary that I 
 should leave this part of the country forthwith." 
 
 But while Edwards was speaking, I was 
 speedily dressing myself. I had latterly got 
 into a very expeditious habit of resuming my 
 clothes, and making my toilet. 
 
 " Why do'you rise at this hour ?" said Edwards, 
 you need repose ." 
 
 " I mean to return to Rohan Abbey," said I, 
 
280 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 '* I am not disposed to trespass any longer upon 
 the Colonel's hospitality ; if you will wait for a 
 few minutes I will accompany you." 
 
 " I suppose you know my route," said Edwards, 
 with a smile, " but make haste, for I have many 
 a long and weary mile to ride before I sleep 
 again." 
 
 I was soon equipped, wrote a few hasty lines 
 with a pencil to the Colonel, apologizing for our 
 sudden retreat, followed Edwards to the hall 
 door, and as the key remained in the lock, we 
 made our exit, quietly closing the door after us, 
 soon saddled our horses, led them to the porter's 
 lodge, and once more upon the public road, 
 our horses' heads were turned in the direction 
 of Rohan Abbey, and the nearer we approached 
 that dismal place, the less I felt inclined to 
 enter it. My heart misgave me, and I felt 
 humbled at thus returning as a suppliant for 
 forgiveness to Sir Carnaby. I contrasted his 
 harsh voice and conduct with that of the free, 
 open, and generous Edwards, whose romantic 
 
OAKLEIGH. 281 
 
 character and daring spirit I admired so much 
 that I would have followed him to the end of 
 the world ; and as we approached the gate of 
 Rohan Abbey, I reined up my horse and refused 
 to enter. 
 
 " It is useless for me to endeavour to conceal 
 my feelings any longer." I frankly told Edwards 
 how matters stood between Sir Carnaby and 
 myself, and at the same time resolved to follow 
 the man, who had saved me from an ignominious 
 death, being resolved to espouse his cause, and 
 shed my blood in his defence. 
 
 Edwards pressed my hand, and for a moment 
 a tear trembled in his eyes, " No, my dear 
 friend," said he, " you must not think of it ; 
 proud as I would be to have one upon whose 
 zeal I could count to second me in the great 
 work I have taken in hand, and sworn to fulfil 
 or perish, I cannot permit you to enter this 
 dangerous career, — you know me not, man — I 
 
 am the hunted the daring outlaw upon 
 
 whose head a price is set by that Government, 
 
282 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 enthroned upon the bleeding necks of millions, 
 and sustained by an army of executioners. No, 
 my friend, you are the next of kin to Sir 
 Carnaby Rohan, and may be heir to the broad 
 lands before us. You may have the means of 
 ameliorating the condition of people around you, 
 others may follow your example, and if I succeed 
 in regenerating my native land, we may here- 
 after renew our acquaintance under more favour- 
 able circumstances, and more auspicious omens." 
 
 I could not reply, and Edwards having said 
 farewell, put spurs to his horse and quickly dis- 
 appeared, while I followed his advice and rode 
 quietly into the farm-yard, consigned Whitefoot 
 to one of the men, who welcomed me home. — 
 Home indeed, thought I, as I turned my steps 
 towards the Abbey, every door, window, and 
 loop-hole of which seemed barricaded against me. 
 
 I knocked at the door, and presently a window 
 was opened over my head, and Sir Carnaby, 
 popping his head over the sill, eyed me askance, 
 as he exclaimed : " So, so, young prodigal, you 
 
OAKLEIGH. 283 
 
 have made a pretty kettle of fish for me, set the 
 laugh of the County against me ; — well, my jail 
 bird, what do you want here ?" 
 
 " Nothing, Sir Carnaby," said I, boiling with 
 indignation. 
 
 " Then why the d — 1 did you knock me up 
 at such an hour. — There, wait a while, come 
 back," he exclaimed, as I hastened away from 
 his door, rushed to the stable, told the groom to 
 put the saddle upon my horse, and was in the 
 act of mounting again, when Sir Carnaby pre- 
 vented me. 
 
 " Come, not so fast," said he, clutching my 
 arm with iron hand ; " one would have thought 
 your late disgrace would have cooled your fiery 
 temperament.'' 
 
 " I am not aware of what disgrace you allude 
 to," said I. 
 
 " Hoity, toity, my master," said Sir Carnaby ; 
 " come along into the house, and put some 
 breakfast into that lean carcase of yours ; may- 
 
284 OAKLEIGH. 
 
 hap it will be the means of softening your aspe- 
 rities." 
 
 Sir Carnaby's last hint about breakfast, in- 
 clined me to enter the Abbey once more ; and 
 though my pride was severely wounded, the 
 flesh was weak enough to yield to necessity. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
65, Mortimer Street, Cavendish Square. 
 July 1st, 1843. 
 
 Mr. Newby has just Published, 
 
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