Shilkigk -P-J^ ^#^ "LI B R.A R.Y ' OF THE UNIVLRSITY or ILLINOIS F&66S V.I UNIVERSITY LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN The person charging this material is responsible for its renewal or return to the library on or before the due date The minimum fee for a lost item is $1 25.00, $300 00 for bound journals. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. Please note: self-stick notes may result in torn pages and lift some inks. Renew via the Telephone Center at 217-333-8400 846-262-1510 (toll-free) or circlib@uiuc edu Renew online by choosing the My Account option af nttp://www.llbrary.uiuc.edu/catalog/ m 2 9 2007 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER OR. LOYAL AND TRUE " Through Erin's Isle to sport awhile Where joys sublime are beaming, We'll take a flight while landscapes bright In beauty's garb are gleaming Mid sunny vales, through flowery dales. And fields renowned in story, Tho' nought remains but barren plains To tell of former glory. And as each scene of emerald green In fairest tints is glancing. Or mountain stream, in golden beam, Through rocky glen is dancing. The tuneful lays of other days Shall tinge our souls with sadness. Or cause the tear to disappear. And fill each heart with gladness." T. C. S. CORRY, M.D., F.R.C.S.L. JULIA AGNES FRASER. In Costume worn at an Irish Fancy Fair. From a Photograph by John Hawke, Plymouth. SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER Or, loyal and TRUE A Romance of the Irish Rebellion of 1798 BY JULIA AGNES FRASER Author of " Dermot O'Donoghue; or, the Stranger from Belfast." "Patrick's Vow; or a Rival's Revenge." " Pat of Mullingar ; or, an Irish Lothario." " Hubert's Pride." " A Slight Mistake." " Harrington's Busby ; or. Weathering the Admiral." " Skeletons in the Cupboard ; or, the Captain's Troubles." " Court Lovers : or, the Sentinel of the King's Guard." "The Star-Spangled Banner ; or, the Far West." &c., &c., &c. IN THREE VOLUMES VOLUME I REMINGTON AND COMPANY. LIMITEIi LONDON : 15, KING STREET, COVENT GARDEN AND SYDNEY 1894 All Rights Reserved ?23 V. 1 To MY Dear Father, Major-General Simon Fraser, ].P. ^ (Late Colonel 2nd Commandant of the Royal Marine Light ^ Infantry), ns — Whose loving sympathy has cheered me ^in my efforts, and inspired me with hope, through the shadow and sunshine of a literary career, AND TO THE GALLANT CORPS TO WHICH HE BELONGED, THIS Novel is most affectionately Dedicated BY A Daughter of the Corps. ilves before me, annyhow 1 " said Myles Lenigan, in an excited voice, from another part of the room. " Faith, it isn't mesilf that'll be kept out av the posi- tion ! " chimed in Phelim O'Flanigan. " Wa'al now, gentlemen ! considerin' I spoke first, I hav a notion that Pve the best right to the appointment," an- swered Magin, coolly. ''Tis yersilf that'll niver be Guv'ner av London, as long as I live to dethrone ye ; an' what for would the likes av yez be Guv'nor whin we're all to be brothers an" aquils, enthirely ?" asked Shell Casey. ** Thim's the same words he said a minute ago, an' niver a lie in it, at all, at all," said Myles Lenigan. ** Thrue for ye, Myles, an' begorrah it's oursilves that'll hould him to the bargain," cried Phelim O'Flanigan. '' Besides, Misther Magin," continued Shell Casey, "it's yersilf has mighty little av the thrue Irish blood in ye forbye, bein' moor than half a Yankee." At this Magin started up angrily, his face alm.ost green with passion, his eyes gleaming with fury. "Say that agin, mister!" he shouted, "say that agin', an' I guess I'll try the strength of yer crown for yer; now," he added, provokingly, " do oblige me by sayin' it agin ! " 152 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; '* Sure, an' I will say it agin, an agin, an as ofthen as it's plasin to mesilf," returned Casey, defiantly. '' An' wanst for all," cried Lenigan, determinedl}^, '* I tell yer, that no wan'll be Guv'nor av London, but mesilf." *' That's what ye'll niver be, while I'm able to be thakin' the situation ; if there's to be anny Guv'nor at all," added Casey, with some doubt in his tones. ** Let me see the bhoy that'll daur kape mesilf out av it," exclaimed Phelim O'Flanigan, threateningly. During the foregoing conversation, and dispute, Kerry O'Toole and Owen Maguire had remained silent, but amused, listeners, each having the intention of hearing all that he could of Magin's plans and sayings, and reporting them in full, afterwards, to Morven O'Neill. '* I scorn to dispute the subject more, gentlemen, for it's I that am alone fitted for the office," said Magin at last. '^ Besides, I guess I hev the best right, consitherin' I first put the idea into yer darned ungrateful heads. I calc'late," he added, sneeringl}^, '' it ivoiild be a caution to see any of yoii in such a position." " Sure it's I that am jist as able as yersilf, Misther Magin," once more expostulated Myles Lenigan. *' Och sure ! the sorra bit are ye fitted for it, Myles, ye spalpeen ! " was Sheil Casey's complimentary opinion. " Thake that, me bho}^ ! for callin' mesilf a spalpeen ! " cried Lenigan, giving Casey a knock over the head with his shillelagh. " An' there's another for sayin' /;;/ not fitted to be Guv'nor," he added, repeating the blow. " An' there's a frindly crack for intherest, my bhoy ! " returned Case}^, as he waved his shillelagh threateningly before Lenigan, and then brought it down smartly on his shoulder. Owen Maguire here crossed the room to speak to Kerry O'Toole, and after a few moments' whispered conference they were proceeding together towards the door, but were stopped by Magin, who stood before them and barred their progress. They had intended going to find O'Neill, as he w^as the only one likely to be able to quell the riot which seemed inevitable, and the consequences of which might prove most disastrous, should it be heard by an}^ chance passers on the road, OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 153 or any of the militar}^ pickets who were kept constantly patrolhng the neighbourhood. Magin immediately guessed the intention of Kerry and Owen, he had no wish for O'NeiU's appearance on the scene, and, indeed, he now secretly anathematized himself for hav- ing spoken so freely before them, knowing that both were devoted to the interests of the young Captain, though the former had not yet taken the oath of fidelity to ** tlic causey *' Not one of yer, gentlemen, leaves the room till this ere little matter is settled," cried Magin, determinedly, as he •stood with his back up against the door, defiantl}^ waving his club-stick before them. *' Whoo ! " shouted Lenigan, aggravatingly trailing his shillelagh in front of Casey, with a peculiar expression on his face, and a significant gesture, well understood by his opponent. **Whoo — 00 — 00 ! " was Casey's reply, in a strange, lin- gering tone. This well-known challenge was as gunpowder thrown upon a blazing fire ; it was a signal for a general fight, the other men imm.ediately taking sides, trailing their shillelaghs, throwing up their caubeens, loosening their neckerchiefs, and turning up their coat-sleeves. Tables and chairs were over- turned in the midst of the uproar. Magin remained standing at the door, mockingly encouraging the combatants as they passed him, but being especially careful to keep out of the fight himself. ** That's right, boys ! " he shouted, *' show the spirit that's in yer, and defend yer rights like men." ** Troth 'tis mesilf thought 'twas ' Ireland for the Irish,' ye said we were to be afther fightin' for, Misther Magin ! " chimed in Owen, mischievousW. ''An' so he did ! That's thrue for ye, Owen Maguire ! " cried two of the Irishmen who were in the thickest of the fight, and who, as if to give additional force to their words, once more charged their opponents with re- newed vigour. ''Aisy, bhoys ! aisy, now!" cried Kerry, who was, how- ever, himself looking eager to join in the fight. " Sure, 154 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; hadn't ye betther be afther waitin' till ye've got London first, bafore ye fight about bein' Guv'nor av that same ? " Kerry's advice was certainly to the point and re- sembled that given by the priest to a couple in a certain parish in Ireland, whom he found having a serious dispute concerning where a chest of drawers was to be placed in their room. On further inquiry, however, his reverence discovered that this article of furniture existed only in the imagination of his two excited parishioners, and that the possession of it was very *' far in the hazy distance," and would only be attainable when they had made " an illigant fortune enthirely." The priest, on this occasion, was able, fortunatel}^, to restore something like harmony between these two ruffled members of his fiock by pointing out to them the desirability of first making the fortune, then purchasing the chest of drawers, and, finally, arranging in which part of the room it was to be placed. It is not so easy, however, to quell a real, genuine Irish fight, and at that moment none of the Boys were in a humour to listen to the remonstrances of Kerry and Owen, and, indeed, it must be owned that their advice was but half- hearted after all, as both were, evident^, only too anxious to join in the general melee. It has often been a wonder to observers, how an Irish fight is got up in a few moments. Two men, perhaps, commence with some slight dispute, words are followed by aggravating gestures and quick blows. Then dozens of other excited men appear on the scene of action (who seem, as it were, to start out of the very earth) take sides and join in the combat, many of them scarcely knowing what was the original cause of the quarrel ; while often a trivial dispute between two men terminates in a desperate faction fight. At the mxoment when Kerry spoke, the voices of Mrs. Kinahan and Anty were heard outside the door, ''Will ye let us in, boys, this minute ! " called the widow, peremptorily, through the keyhole. " Sure, if ye don't, it's mesilf that'll be afther goin' for some wan that'll make ye give up," chimed in Ant}^, in sup- port of her mother. Kerry, who had been literally trembling with excitement OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 155 and anxiety to be in the midst of the "shindy" was unable to resist any longer, especially as Owen Maguire had yielded to the temptation and was then seen in the thickest of the fight. '* Hurrah, for ould Ireland I and the thrue blood for iver !" he cried, as rolling up his coat sleeves, and waving his shillelagh, he rushed in among the combatants. By this time Morven O'Neill had been made acquainted with the proceedings in the widow's parlour, and his voice was heard outside the door calling in loud and commanding tones to the Rebels within. ''Open the doors, boys ! Do you hear me ? I command you to open the doors ! " The men, however, seemed neither to hear nor to heed the orders of their Captain, but continued fighting more fiercely than before. Some of those belligerents who had lost their shillelaghs in the scrimmage, tore the legs off the tables and chairs, and continued to use them as formidable weapons. Morven, after shouting, commanding, and threat- ening in vain, shook the door violently, and at last burst it open, when it fell into the room with a crash, knocking down Magin and others who chanced to be in the way at the moment. Taking no notice of Magin's vindictive glances at him, as he slowly gathered himself up and stood before him in a defiant attitude, Morven O'Neill entered the room, fol- lowed by Anty Kinahan, who was in the greatest possible anxiety lest Owen Maguire should have been injured in the fray. "What means this disgraceful noise and uproar?" de- manded Morven, as he stood in the midst of them, looking cool, calm, and dignified. " Can I not be absent from you for half-an-hour without a dispute and a fight ensuing ? Casey ! put down that chair, this instant. Lenigan ! pick up that table. Shame on you, boys. Magin ! " he added, turning to the Yankee, " I should scarcely have imagined that you could be present and make no attempt to put an end to such a scene." " Wa'al ! " rephed Magin, with an insolent look at O'Neill, " suppose ^ow try to stop those thar boys now, mister." " Sure it's mother that's comin' to look aftherye, boys, an' 156 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; she'll have ivery sowl av ye turned out this minute, if ye don't sthop fightin'," cried Anty Kinahan ; then, seeing her lover at the other end of the room, she crossed over to him and seized hold of his arm, bringing him to a sudden stand- still, in the midst of a mad career round the room, *' Owen ! — Owen^ agrah I Give up ! Ah, be aisy now darlin ' ! " she added, anxiously, as he broke from her, and continued the fight with a powerful looking opponent, hailing from the neighbourhood of Donnybrook. Neither Anty's entreaties, however, nor Morven's com- mands had for some minutes the least power to stop them. At last, however, the}^ met with an unexpected interruption in the hasty entrance of the widow Kinahan, with a long broom in her hands ; nothing daunted at the sight of the des- perate faces, and the fierce gestures of the men, she rushed into the thickest of the fight, and flourished her broom about amongst them to such good purpose that she succeeded in separating a few of the combatants. '' Give up, I say ! " she cried, '' or sure it's mesilf that'll have ivery mother's son av ye handed over to the authorities, for disgracin' a dacent, honest widdy woman's house." *' Do you mean to attract the notice of any persons who may chance to pass this way, boys ?" asked Morven, angrily. ''They will soon discover our whereabouts, with all this noise. Can you never settle anything without a fight ? " '* 'Tis sorra bit av use spakin' whin the bhoys' spirits is raised, yer honour," said Anty. ** Och ! the good luck be wid yer honour," said Kerry, as he stopped fighting, and for the first time noticed Morven. '* Troth, I'm feared it's yersilf that'll have a power av throuble wid thim bhoys." Having got the best of it in the fight, Kerry now generously turned to assist his opponent to rise, that gentleman being still seated on the floor, vigorously rubbing his head, and de- claring that " he was murthered enthirely," but coming to fife again immediately on hearing Kerry's proposal to ** settle the thrifle av a difference fair an' aisy over a dhrop of the craythur." Several of the other men still continued fighting, despite the expostulations of O'Neill, but were finally separated by OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 15/ another bold charge into their midst, on the part of Mrs. Kinahan, with her formidable household weapon. '* How daur ye ! " she cried once more, her comely face now crimson with anger and excitement, her cap having become disarranged and hanging by one string half-way down her back. — ** how daur ye, bhoys, to be afther behavin' that way, an' creatin' a disthurbance in a respectable house, an' mesilf a lone widdy. Give it up, bhoys, this insthant, I tell yez ! " In the general confusion no one noticed the pale, terrified face of Estelle O'Neill, as she stood gazing in at the window, having hastened there in her anxiety to know the cause of the sudden uproar in Mrs. Kinahan's well-ordered hostelry, and her fears concerning Morven's safety. So ended the important meeting in the ''Shamrock." We leave the reader to judge how far Magin's speech had been of advantage in elucidating matters relating to the '* great cause." Certainly, if it had done no good, it had done little harm, as "the boys left the room no wiser than when they entered " ; and indeed the words of the Yankee were soon forgotten in the shindy which ensued, and in which many of the men seized upon the opportunity for settling private disputes of long standing, quite unconnected with the im- portant political subject they had been called together to discuss. 158 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; CHAPTER XIII. " Has Hope, like the bird in the story, That flitted from tree to tree With the talisman's glittering glory — Has Hope been that bird to thee ? On branch after branch alighting. The gem did she still display. And, when nearest and most inviting. Then waft the fair gem away ? ' ' Moore. Romantic, and very beautiful was the spot chosen by Kerry O'Toole and ThaHa Coghlan for their trysting-place that summer night. The old bridge, with the deep water rushing over its rocky bed far beneath ; the surrounding hills and rugged mountains down which flowed many a seeth- ing, foaming torrent, all formed a scene of impressive grandeur. The bridge was supported on either side by rocks, in which were natural, roughly-hewn steps leading down to a road over-shadowed by trees, and bordered with masses of brambles, broom and ferns, and here and there clusters of the bright-blue myosotis, with its sweet sym- bolical meaning, ** Forget-me-not." The water beneath the bridge was known to be deep and dangerous ; more than one life had been lost there on dark stormy nights, when some unwary pedestrian had been swept over into the torrent, and had perished before aid could be obtained. Since then, however, an attempt had been made at some slight protection in the form of a rustic railing, but that would have proved a frail barrier against the sudden fierce gusts of wind that came sweeping down the mountain gullies with such terrible force. OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 1 59 When Thalia and Shilrick first arrived at the bridge, the scene was shrouded in darkness, save for the pale, golden light of a solitary star, which only appeared to lend a still more weird and fantastic appearance to the shadows that fell upon the old bridge and its surroundings. Thalia and her gallant though youthful escort, climbed up the rocks by the rough steps on to the bridge, where they stood for some moments in silence, gazing into the water beneath, both being apparently in deep and anxious thought. At last Shilrick spoke, and there was an expression of awe in his earnest, thoughtful eyes, as he looked around. " Sure, Thalia, it's lonesome enough here, annyhow ! How is it that Kerry an yersilf came to choose such a place av matin' ^ " ''I like it, Shilrick," replied Thalia, ''I like it bekase 'tis here I've so ofthen been wid Kerry. An' whiles when I'd be here before me thime, an' waitin' for himself, I've niver felt lonesome, at all, at all ; for I've always had the bright thought av the happy matin's we've had on this same ould bridge." *' Well, Thalia," answered Shilrick, ''sure if it's yersilf that's contint, I've no call to be puttin' ye out av concate av the place. I'd have chosen a livelier tr3'stin'-place, mesilf, though," he added. '' I must lave ye now, or I'll niver be afther gettin' me message done this night. The top av the avenin' to ye, Thalia jewel ! " he said, as he set down the basket beside her, **an' a happy matin' wid Kerry." Thaha, who had been standing leaning against the railing of the bridge, and silently watching the lonely star shining just above her head, suddenly turned, as Shilrick was about to leave her, and laying her hand on his shoulder once more questioned him anxiously. '^ Shilrick, what is it ye think can be wrong wid Kerry ? Is it that he doesn't care for mesilf now as he wanst did ? Oh, sure it isn't that ? " she cried. '* Sure, there's no other colleen come betwane us ? " There was a wail of sorrow and trouble in the girl's sweet voice that might have cast all doubt of her sincerity out of Shilrick's mind, had he not been so anxious concerning the happiness of his brother ; but it is a sad truth that when once l60 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; the deadly poison of suspicion and mistrust is instilled into the heart, it is difficult — nay, too often impossible, to exor- cise it. Shilrick, however, was too warm-hearted and generous not to sympathize with cmyone in distress, much less the girl who was so dear to Kerry, and whom he himself now looked upon as a sister. All the chivalry in the boy's nature was roused by the sight of the sad face before him, and it was with hopeful, pitying words he tried to soothe Thalia. " No, Thalia — there's no other colleen; ye may kape yer heart aisy on that head. 'Tis your love is the sunshine av his heart — an' oh, Heaven forgive ye," he added, earnestly, *' if ye'd iver do, or say annythin' that would bring the dark sorrow down on it." With a long, lingering look at his companion, he turned and left her, and running swiftly down the rough steps at the end of the bridge, he wended his way along the lonely road, an4 was soon lost to view in the dense shade of the trees and rocks that surrounded him. Little did the drummer think how, or where he would next see Thalia Coghlan. Was it a presentiment of coming evil that caused the lad to pause on his way, more than once, as he murmured, regretfully, '' 'Twas a dhreary place to choose, annyhow. I wish I hadn't to lave her. I wish I could have sthayed until Kerry came." Shilrick did not look round as he left Thalia — for that w^ould have brought the bad luck — so the boy did not see the pale anxious face, as she stood, with hands tightly clasped, and eyes strained as they peered into the dim distance, striving to penetrate the dark- ness that hid from her sight the path by which her lover would approach ; truly the poor girl appeared a solitary, mournful watcher, with the shadows of coming sorrow and trouble gathering slowly and surely around her, even as they were gathering around many another brave, true heart in Erin's Isle that night. Thalia was at length roused from her fit of despondency by the first roll of the drums, the commence- ment of the evening tattoo in Glencree Barracks. The distant tones of the drums and fifes seemed to soothe her, as the lovely, pathetic notes of the old Irish melody, ^^Gram- achree Molly ^^^ fell upon her ear. OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. l6l She carried her basket to that part of the bridge where the parapet was lowest, and seated herself on a projecting piece of rock. When the last notes of the melody had died away on the night air, Thalia, partly because the music was still haunting her, and partly to while away the time, commenced in a low, sw^eet voice to sing the following words to the old air that had just been played on the drums and fifes : " The Harp that once through Tara's Halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls, As if that soul were fled, — So sleeps the pride of former days. So glory's thrill is o'er, And hearts that once beat high for praise, Now feel that pulse no more. No more to chiefs and ladies bright, The Harp of Tara swells ; The chord alone that breaks at night. Its tale of ruin tells : Thus freedom now so seldom wakes. The only throb she gives. Is when some heart indignant breaks. To show that still she lives." While Thalia had been singing, the moon had been graduall}^ rising, and now shone forth from among the clouds with unusual splendour, the whole scene being etherealized beneath its wondrous light. Thalia rose from her seat and stood once more gazing in the direction whence she expected to see her lover appear, but as yet there was no sign of his approach. ''What can be kapin' Kerry so long? It's gettin' late," she murmured, anxiously. ''Sure, I wish he'd come. Oh ! why is it that Shilrick would be puttin' the sad thoughts an' the doubts into me heart ? But if Kerry would only come now, an' I could see the dear face av himself, they'd soon be gone. Oh, Kerry ! sliule, shiile ograh^ mavourncen ! " Thalia would have been still more anxious both on Kerry's account and her own, had she guessed that he had been detained at the meeting of the Rebels in the " Shamrock," VOL. I. M 1 62 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; and that he had been for the most part of the day in the select company of Thaddeus Magin, who had not neglected to make the best of his time in the way of using every effort to rouse the demon of jealousy in Kerry's heart, against Sheymus Malloy. How far the Yankee had succeeded in his nefarious design the reader has yet to learn. The lonely watcher on the bridge was roused from her anxious reverie by the sound of a friendly voice behind her and turning to see who was the intruder, she found Sheymus Malloy was beside her, having approached from the opposite side to that on which Kerry was expected to appear. '* Thalia, me colleen, sure ye shouldn't be here yer lone so late this night," said Sheymus, kindly." What is it Kerry's thinkin' av, at all, at all, to be afther kapin' ye waitin' this way ? " '* And what call is it yoii have to be afther interfarin' wid what Kerr}^ might be doin' or not doin', Sheymus Malloy ! " demanded Thalia, indignantly, and in eager defence of her absent lover. " Sure it isn't yersilf that has the right to be castin' doubts on the bhoy. He's doin' no wrong, annyhow," she concluded, triumphantly. '' Thalia ! " said Sheymus, rather taken aback at the sudden outburst from the usually quiet, gentle girl. '* Sure I meant nothin' agin Kerry ; only — only, 'tis afraid I am for yersilf bein' alone this night, bekase some of the ' Bould Bhoys,' are out, an' there's jist been another disthurbance, betwane the Rebels and the milithairey, a shoort disthance from Bray. Maybes 'tis Kerry has been in the middle av it." Singularly unfortunate was Sheymus in his remarks on this occasion. First he had aroused Thalia's indignation, and now he had put her into a state of terror and anxiety for Kerry's safety. " Oh, Sheymus ! " she exclaimed, ** sure, ye don't mane that annythin' has happened to him ? Oh, tell me ! Tell me at wanst what ye know ! Oh ! Kerry, me darlin', me darlin' ! sure, there's no harm come to yersilf !" she cried, despairingly. '' Troth, Thalia ! I didn't mane to be afther frightenin' yersilf," said She^-mus, much distressed at the reception of his innocent remarks. '' I didn't mane to frighten ye, cora OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 1 63 machree, but, sure, 3'e know that there's niver a fight anny- where near an' Kerry not in it, an' smaU blame to him. But now, Thaha," he added, kindly, " ye'U let me thake ye safe home, an' then I'll be afther goin' in search av Kerry." ** Sure I thank ye, Sheymus, but I'd rayther wait ; I pro- mised Kerry I'd mate him here, an' if I'd to sthay all the night in this place I wouldn't be breakin' me word to him- silf." There was a decided tone of coldness in Thalia's reply, not unmixed with a certain defiance, that was exceedingly aggravating, even to the good-natured Sheymus, and there was, therefore, considerable bitterness and reproach in his answer to her. " An' ye've all that love for /iwi, and sorra kind word for mesilf, that would give me life to make ye happy ? An' where's the bhoy now, that he'd be sthayin' away so long, an' niver givin' a heed to yersilf waitin' and watchin' for him ? " '*An' haven't I tould ye moor than wanst that ye've no call to be meddlin' an' passin' yer remarks on what Kerry does," said Thalia, angrily. ** Sure, 'tis the love I have for 3'e makes me do it, Thalia." " Ye promised ye'd niver spake av that agin, Sheymus." ** An' so I did, darlin' ; but troth whin I'd be seein' yersilf there foreninst me, I forget all enthirely but the love that's in me heart. I'm goin' now, Thalia jewel, but I'll not be far away incase ye fale lonesome, an' Kerry doesn't come," said Sheymus, kindly. ** But he wi7/ come, I tell ye ! " cried Thalia, indignantly. " I know he'll come, /or he promised.^' While Thalia and Sheymus are talking so earnestly together, Kerry O'Toole, who has been hastily approaching, by a narrow pass among the rocks leading into the road which was more generally used ; he suddenly paused and looked at the two figures on the bridge. ** Ah ! " he exclaimed, his face pallid, his eyes blazing with passion, and his hand fiercely grasping his shillelagh, as he stood watching his unconscious rival and Thalia. '* There they are, an' togither agin. It's thrue — it's thrue — ivery word that Magin tould me. But take heed, Sheymus M — 2 164 SHILRICK, THE DRUM3IER ; Malloy, take heed — ye'll fale my vingeance yet ! " he cried, passionately. " The revinge of the O'Tooles is sure and swift. — Oh !" he continued, despairingly, ''why did I give the best love av me heart to a colleen like that ? I've sthriven' an' worked for her — I've given all I had — there wasn't a thought or a hope in me heart, an' hersilf not a part in it, but now — now I've bartered all, I've wrecked me life's happiness — all for a worthless bauble. Ochone ! tis Fate that's niver been over-ginerous to mesilf, but now she's come wid both hands full av sorrow. I'll watch thim," he continued, passionately, again looking towards the bridge. *' I'll watch thim — here behind this rock. 'Tis little they think who is a witness to their lovemakin' here this night." Meanwhile, Sheymus Malloy and Thalia, continued their conversation, quite unconscious of the jealous watcher who was so near them. ''Thalia," said Sheymus, earnestly, "sure dear, it's mesilf that knows well ye'll niver tell Kerry, or annywan ilse, what's come an' gone betwane us ; an' now I want ye to promise that if yer heart should iver be sad wid the dark sorrow an' throuble, or if ye should iver have nade av a faithful friend, it's to mesilf ye'll come. Put yer two hands in mine, Thalia darlin'," he added, tenderly, " an' promise that ye'll not forget." " Sure, I'll promise, Sheymus," Thalia answered, solemnly, as she frankly did as he desired, " an' I thank ye for all yer kindness to mesilf." "Ah!" cried Kerry, as he looked round the projecting rock, " see that now ! How she lets him hould her two hands. Oh, the false-hearted colleen ! begorrah ! may I niver die in sin if I don't pay ye for this night's work, Sheymus Malloy." " Heaven bless and kape ye from all ill, darlin', now an' for iver ! " was the fervent wish of Sheymus, as he parted from Thalia. She stood watching his retreating figure for some moments, and then, with a sigh, she murmured, sadly, to herself, " Poor Sheymus ! sure it's the kind heart he has. I wish he had niver cared for mesilf, for he might have found some other colleen that would have been proud av his love." LOYAL AND TRUE. 1 65 CHAPTER XIV. " If thus the young hours have fleeted, When sorrow, itself, looked bright. If thus the fair hope hath cheated. That led thee along so light ; If thus the cold world now wither Each feeling that once was dear ; Come, child of Misfortune, come hither, I'll weep with thee, tear for tear." Moore. For a moment Kerry hesitated, as he looked up at Thalia ; then, coming from behind the rock, he quickly ascended the steps, and stood on the bridge. ^'Thalia!" '' Oh, Kerry ! " cried the girl, joyfully, as she turned, on hearing his voice, and hastened towards him, ** is it yersilf at last, dear ! Sure 'twas a sthart ye gave me, enthirely ; but, faith, 'tis glad I am to see ye, darlin'." She had gone up to him quickly, with eager, outstretched hands, but suddenly drew back on seeing the cold, stern expression of his face, and that he remained sullen and silent as he stood leaning against a rock at the end of the bridge, with his arms folded, and looking down at her scornfully. '' 'Tis mesilf, sure enough," answered Kerry, bitterly. ** The top av the avenin' to ye, Thalia Coghlan ! But maybes it's I that am rather onwilcome jist now — maybes a thrifle before the thime I was expicted." *' Kerry mavourneen ! " exclaimed Thalia, surprised and hurt at the coldness of his manner, "why, what is it that's the matther wid ye, at all, at all ! " 1 66 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; " Matther enough,rm thinkin'," he replied, angrily. ''What was Sheymus Malloy doin' here, an' where was he goin' ? " "Doin', is it?" exclaimed Thalia, indignantly. " Sure, he was spakin' to mesilf ; an' I'd like to know what ye have agin' Sheymus Malloy walkin' on this or anny other road that's plasin' to him ; but since ye ax the quistion, why, thin it's goin' home, he was." " Faith thin, it's a mighty great number av different ways av goin' home he has enthirely ; most av thim in opposite roads from where he lives," replied Kerry, sarcastically. " An' mind ye !" he continued, passionately, '' this is the fifth matin' I've seen betwane yersilf and him ; I'd been tould about it many thimes, but sure I'd niver belave annythin' agin yersilf ontil afther I'd sane what was goin' on, wid me own two eyes. An' what was Sheymus sayin' to ye this thime, Thalia Coghlan ? " demanded Kerry, sternly, as he approached nearer to her and laid his hand on her arm. " What was he spakin' about the thime he had yer two hands clasped in his, an' the love-light shinin' in his eyes ? " *' Sure, there was nothin' agin yersilf bein' said, Kerry," replied Thalia, angrily, " an' nothin' that could harm ye at all at all, that.ye'd be spakin that way to me." " Oh, Thalia ! " cried Kerry, in tones of bitter sorrow and reproach, "sure I belaved ye to be thruth itself. I'd niver thought ye'd decave me. Ye'd betther — far betther, have come to me at wanst, an' said ' Kerry, 'tis another bhoy I love moor than yersilf now,' an' sure it's mesilf that would niver have kept ye to yer ould promise, niver, though 'twas to break me heart enthirely to give ye up to another." " Kerry asthore — what is it ye mane," asked Thalia, anxiously. " Och! sure it isn't jealous ye are, Kerry, darlin'," she added, as she coaxingly laid her hand on his, which was still holding his shillelagh in a tight, passionate grasp. Kerry stood looking down on her with an expression half scornful, and half sorrowful ; he made no attempt to return the gentle, caressing touch of the girl's hand, and simply repeated in the same obstinate tone as before, "Tell me, what is it that Sheymus Malloy was sa3nn' to ye this night ? " OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. \6j "I — I can't, Kerry," was the hesitating reply. ^' An' sure, how would 1 be remimberin' ivery word the bhoy said ? Oh, Kerry ! " she continued, earnestly, '* sure ye can trust me, darlin' — ye niver disbelaved me before — why would ye be doin' it now? " " How daur ye be afther thryin' to decaive a bhoy that loves ye betther than all the world ?" cried Kerry, passion- ately, as he pushed aside her hand. '' O/?, colleen machree ! sure ye may live to regret playin' wid a thrue, honest heart, an' then throwin' it away when y^ were thired av it — thramp- lin' it ondher yer faat as if hearts had sorra moor falin' widin thim than the sthones ye're sthandin' on this minute. I'm goin' now " he added, sorrowfully. "I'm goin' to lave ye, Thalia. Ye"ll maybes niver see me agin, or if we do mate in the far-off future, it'll be as sthrangers." '* Oh, why d'ye say that, Kerry avonrncen^^ cried Thalia, weeping bitterly. " Sure it isn't goin' to lave me ye are ? " " I'm goin' to join the * Bould Bhoys ' in the mountains," was the cold, stern reply, '' maybes in their company I'll be able to forgit the colleen who seemed so fair an' yet proved so false. I'll thry to forgit how I wanst loved ye, an' — are ye listhening, Thalia ? " he demanded, angrily. '' Oh, Kerry ! " sobbed Thalia. '' Sure I'm listhenin'. Heaven have pity on me for havin' to hear such cruel words from the bhoy I love moor than life ! " The man continued his reproaches relentlessly, too much Winded by passion and jealousy to notice the sorrow-stricken look on the face of the girl he so dearly and so truly loved, or to hear the ring of truth in her voice as she pleaded so earnestly to him. " Now, maybes ye'll hear the name av Kerry O'Toole among the Rebels, an' that he's the most darin' av thim all. Maybes ye'll hear that he's imprisoned in Wicklow Castle. Then,'^ he continued, fiercely, remimbcr — yes, remimber, Thalia Coghlan, to tell that he was yer ould, swateheart, an' that it was yersilf made him thurn thraitor an' dhrove ivery good thought out av his heart enthirely." He was moving away from her, but turned, suddenly, and put his arm round her. For a moment the storm-cloud seemed to have vanished from the grave, handsome face, 1 68 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; leaving nought but an expression of deep, yearning sorrow, and the dark eyes that gazed searchingly into Thalia's were full of the tenderest love. "Thalia!" he said, with emotion, ''one last farewell I must spake, for the sake av the ould love I had for yersilf. Farewell, luavonrucen \ Heaven protect an' kape ye, an' make ye thruer to yer second love than ye've been to yer first. Farewell, Thalia corn inachrce ! " He gently withdrew his arm from around the weeping girl, and with a sad, weary gesture he passed it over his troubled eyes. Once more he was about to leave Thalia, but in an instant she was at his side, her hands clasped round his arm, en- treatingly. '' Kerry! Kerry ! " she cried, passionately, ''won't ye be- lave me ? Won'tye listhen to me ? Oh, darlin' ! sureye'd niver lave me this way ? I've niver wronged ye in word or dade, I niver meant to decaive ye. Oh, Kerry agrah \ ye'd niver do what 3^e said this minute ? Sure, if yer own father an' mother had been livin' now, they'd rayther hev sane ye Xyirv^ could an' sthill at the foot av that dape vvather, than that ye should have thurned thraitor an' joined the Rebels : an' there's the Captain, 3'er foster-brother, an' little Shilrick, too, 'tis loyal an' thrue they are. Oh ! Kerry, think av ////;;/ if ye care nothing for mesilf now ! " Again the demon of jealousy and anger got the upper hand of Kerry, and the softness, the tenderness, were all gone ; he was utterly mistaken in the motive which, in his in- dignation, he attributed to Thalia, as the reason for her speak- ing as she had just done. " I thank ye for the hint, Thalia," he replied, fiercely, " 'tis rid av me enthirely ye want to be. Maybes 'twould be inconvanient for 3^ersilf to have the bhoy ye'd wronged so near hand, he could tell others how onthrue ye were. Sure 'tis all as wan to mesilf now what becomes av me. I naden't sake revinge on the bhoy that's won yer heart from me ; the sorrow an' throuble will come to him soon enough, for the false heart brings no luck wid it to the giver or the recaiver. Farewell for iver, Thalia, and take the best wishes av yer ould love wid ye whereiver ye may go." After OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. lOQ a long, earnest look at the pale, frightened face and trembling form, he added, in a low, sorrowful voice as he pointed sig- nificantly to the water beneath the bridge, ** I'll not want yer love anny moor, Thalia — I'll niver fale yer couldness there ^ With a quick, sudden movement, Kerry put Thalia aside, passed her, and reaching the centre of the bridge was about to leap over the parapet, but she ran forward, and falling on her knees at his feet clung to him in terror and despair. As if to lend additional horror to the scene the moon was at this moment eclipsed by a passing cloud, and the darkness around the two figures was dense. " Oh, Kerry ! Kerry ! " cried Thalia, piteousl3\ '' Sure 3^e wouldn't do this dade. Oh, Kerry astJiorc — me own — me only love ! Sure ye couldn't do it at all, at all ! " ** 'Tis av no use thryin' to kape me back, Thalia," replied Kerry, shaking her off. ** Let go av me, I tell ye, let go ! " he cried, fiercely. " No, no, Kerry! " sobbed Thalia, still clinging to him, her despair seeming to give her additional strength. '' No, no ; oh, mavoiirneen ! mavoiirneen ! won't 3'e listhen to me ? " '' The thime's gone past for listhenin' and thrustin'," was the passionate reply, as, breaking from Thalia's hold, Kerry leapt over the bridge, into the torrent below. " Sheymus I oh help ! — help ! — Come to me, Sheymus ! " cried the terrified girl in her despair, and the cry found an echo among the rocks and caves around, and went to the very heart of the man who believed himself to have been deceived. With a low, heart-rending wail of sorrow Thalia was about to follow her lover, but a quick, firm step was heard, and in an instant She3'mus Mallo}' had climbed the steps at the end of the bridge, and stood behind Thalia, only just in time to place two strong hands upon her shoulders and to draw her firmly, though gentl}^, back from the parapet, over which she was leaning. ** Thalia!" exclaimed Sheymus, in a voice full of reproach. ''What's the matther ? Sure, it isn't goin' to drown yersilf ye were ? " " Oh, save him ! save him, Sheymus ! " cried Thalia, wildly. I/O SHILRICK, THE DRU.AIMER ; *' Save who, Thalia ? Who is it ? " asked Malloy, wonder- ingly. '' It's Kerry ! it's Kerry! Oh, save him !" '' Kerry O'Toole, is it ? But, sure, how did he come there?" ''Oh ! " cried Thaha, "why will ye sthand there spakin' to mesilf when he is dhrownin' ? D'ye hear ? he's dhroivnui! an' ivery moment is av consequence." ** Och ! sure he's safe enough, Thalia, he can swim." "Yes, yes, but he'll not thry— he'll not thry," sobbed , Thalia. " Oh ! hear to the torrent, it'll drag him dhown — dhown," she continued, wildly — "he'll be swept far away out to the dape sae, we'll niver see him anny moor. Oh, Kerry! — aciiishlamachrceX — my darlin' — my darlin' !" " But,Thalia, my colleen, sure I don't ondhersthand — Kerry hasn't been thryin' to dhrown himself?" asked Sheymus now utterly bewildered with Thalia's grief and excitement. " Oh, Sheymus !" replied Thalia, despairingly. "If there's anny heart widin'ye at all, don't be axin' annythin' now. If ye love me as ye said — if ye have anny mercy, oh ! thry to save him, an' Heaven bless ye ! only thry to save hiui ! " she cried as she knelt at the feet of Sheymus, and clasped his hands in hers in passionate entreaty. " Only thry to save Kerry, an' sure it's mesilf that'll say ' yes ' to the quistion ye've axed me so manny times. I'll thry an' love ye as ye want, Sheymus, if ye'll save //////, an' kape him from dyin' wid this dark crime on his sowl." " Thalia, ;;/<7i;(9//;7/^6';/ !" said Sheymus, tenderly, "I can do nothin' wid ye clingin' to me like that ; let go, dear, an' I'll see what can be done." "An' ye'll savehim, Sheymus?" asked Thalia, hopefully, as she rose, and stood facing him, an irresistible pleading in her voice and her sorrowful eyes. " I'll thry, Thalia. This is a dangerous part an' I can't swim well mesilf, woorse luck. The torrent is mighty sthrong; it'll be hard, but sure I'll vinture it. Kape up yer heart, darlin ' ! " It was indeed a daring venture on the part of Sheymus Malloy. He w^as not, as he said, an expert swimmer, and even had he been so, there was but little chance of his being OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. I/I able to make use of his skill, for there were many dangers attending such an attempt. There was the risk of being caught in the torrent and dashed against the rocks, or else swept out to sea, or into one of the many rocky caves past which the water rushed. There were dangerous currents, too, and pools into which it was said that if anyone fell they would never again be seen, dead or alive, b}^ mortal man. All these dangers and difficulties, however, had no weight with Sheymus Malloy. He was naturally brave and fearless. For a moment only, he paused, as the thought crossed his mind that it was a hard task that was set before him, that he should thus risk his life to save his rival, and one, too, who, by his own act, had placed himself in such peril ; but his indecision did not last long ; the generosity of the man's nature prevailed, combined with his love for the sorrowing girl beside him. He hastily crossed the bridge, and, after throwing off his coat and hat, he began cautiously to descend to the water, clinging from rock to rock, intending if possible to reach a rugged peak that projected over the water, from whence he could look down and see if Kerry was anywhere in sight, and from which it would be easier for him to leap, than from the bridge. '' O ! Heaven help an' save thim both ! " cried Thalia, fervently, as she leant over the parapet to watch the movements of Sheymus, but the hope that had sprung up in her heart, was destined soon to be turned into bitter despair, for at that moment the moon once more shone forth from behind the cloud, and revealed to the terrified girl that the projecting rock which Sheymus had now reached, and to which he was clinging, was loose, and that it was trembling und shaking beneath his weight. "Oh!" she cried, *'the rock is givin' way — he's losin' hould av it — 'tis all over wid thim both. Oh, Kerry, my heart's darlin' ! an' Sheymus, my brave, thrue-hearted friend. Oh, wirra I wirra ! " The last words had scarcely crossed her lips before the rock fell, with a loud, thundering sound into the water beneath, and was immediately immersed in the seething foam from the torrent. Sheymus had now disappeared as swiftly and as completely as Kerry. 1/2 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER J Thalia, wild with terror and grief, and scarce knowing what she was doing, leant too far over, and too heavily against the rustic railing of the bridge ; it gave way, and, the parapet being low, she fell over. Her hopeless, despairing cry, which was borne away upon the night air, was the only sign of the terrible tragedy that had been enacted on the old bridge. Once more silence reigned — a cloud crept over the moon, and all around was shrouded in darkness. OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 1/3 CHAPTER XV. " As a beam o'er the face of the waters may glow, While the tide runs in darkness and coldness below, So the cheek may be tinged with a warm, sunny smile, Though the cold heart to ruin runs darkly the while." Moore. Jealousy, suspicion and love held a place in the heart of more than one of those present among the group assembled on the colonnade outside the officers' quarters at Glencree Barracks, the same evening as that on which the tragedy was taking place on the old bridge, and, indeed, at the very same hour. The scene, despite its martial surroundings, would have appeared calm and peaceful enough to a mere casual ob- server, who could not read the care and anxiety written on the faces of several of those now gathered together in, apparently, friendly intercourse, and who knew not of the elements of discord and unrest that existed within their hearts, though every emotion was so carefully and success- fully concealed beneath the veil of outward courtes}' and the cold, conventional Society smile. The group consisted of several of the officers of the Marines and two or three friends belonging to the cavalry regiment, who had been dining at Glencree Barracks, and were now walking to and fro in front of the officers' quarters, where they had been at- tracted by the sweet, pathetic tones of " Gra-ma-chrec^ Molly ! " even as poor Thalia Coghlan had been soothed by them while keeping her lonely tryst on the bridge. Eveleen Corrie w^as seated at the open window of the Colonel's quarters, with the faithful Nap curled up on the 174 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; end of her dress. Opposite to her was her great friend, Lady Mabel O'Hara. Mrs. Corrie and another elderly lady were reclining in easy-chairs near them, now and then taking part in their con- versation, while the Colonel and Major Ricardo of the cavalry detachment were seated at the table, engaged in an eager discussion on military and naval matters, with two officers, from the ships in Bantry Bay, who were to remain for the night at Glencree. Outside the window, leaning against the frame-work, stood Lieutenant Rochfort, (the young cavalry officer before men- tioned) eagerly bending forward to speak to Eveleen Corrie, watching, admiringly, the ever-changing expression on her fair features. Lieutenant Digby was engaged in a mild flirtation with Eveleen's friend, the Lady Mabel, Annesley and Ellis were walking to and fro, conversing together, occasionally pausing to make a passing remark to those at the window. From time to time Annesley cast angr}^ and scornful glances at Eveleen and Rochfort, which glances the latter returned with cool insolence, for, in his own mind, and in his over- weening vanity, this gallant son of Mars imagined that he was perfectly irresistible, and that he could never in any circumstances, be otherwise than master of the situation in aught appertaining to love affairs. Fortunately, however, for his own self-conceit, he could not read Eveleen's heart, and knew not how she was hiding her bitter sorrow at Annesley's coldness beneath a forced gaiety of demeanour, nor that her seemingly willing and pleased acceptance of Rochfort's attentions was but to hide from the former the real state of her feelings. LiKle thought the young Dragoon that, while he was diligently pouring soft love speeches into Eveleen's ear that she sometimes scarcely heard one word that he was saying, for her eyes were following Annesley's every movement, even as her thoughts and her heart were with him then, and would be as long as life lasted ; but Rochfort was perfectly satisfied. He had rehearsed those love speeches and gone through similar scenes so often with others, and had always found them effective and successful, that he was quite con- •v^nced that the impression left thereby, on the mind of OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 1 75 Eveleen Corrie, would be all that even he could possibly desire, especially as he was, this iiiue, fairl}' in earnest with his love-making. Whatever might be Eveleen's reception of the advances of Rochfort, certainl}^ that of Nap was the reverse of favour- able, for, when that young officer leant too far inside the window, he was greeted with a low growl, Nap utterly refusing to be propitiated, his keen instinct probably telling him that although, before his mistress, his enemy made some pretence of speaking to him and attempting to win his favour, yet in secret he was anathematizing him, and think- ing no fate too evil to wish for Eveleen's loving, faithful little friend, because poor Nap happened to have a particular liking for his rival, Annesley. The coldness and estrangement between Annesley and Eveleen had in no way diminished since the night they had parted in anger, some days before ; indeed it had rather increased, for it is a well-known truism that when once jealousy and suspicion enter the lover's Eden peace is sure to depart, and, as our immortal bard has written : " Trifles, light as air, Are, to the Jealous, confirmations strong As proofs of Holy Writ:' The memory of Miss Ellen Desmond, and Annesley's sup- posed admiration for that most discreet and loyal-minded young lady, was still rankling in Eveleen's mind, while Annesley, on his part, had been unable to shake off his suspicion with regard to Eveleen's evident interest in the Rebels, and his jealousy was now still farther aroused by Rochfort's attentions to her, until, at times, he tormented himself with the thought that Eveleen had wished to pick a quarrel with him, and had taken the plan of seemingly favouring the Rebellion, well knowing that his determined loyalty and his duty com- pelled him to denounce all connected with treason. He did not seem, or rather did not choose, to notice that at times, the tender, loving eyes, so often watching him, were filled with tears, or that the pale lips, hidden behind the feather fan, were quivering with pain and sorrow. Even had he done so, it is possible that in his present state of mind he 176 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; would not have believed that Eveleen's grief was caused by his own neglect and coldness. There had been silence, both within and without the room, for some minutes, each one seemingly busy with his, or her own thoughts. At last, Annesley's voice, as he spoke to EUis, broke the spell. "I wonder," he said, *' if it is my fancy, Ellis, or if there really is a difference in the tattoo to-night ? I seem to miss the roll of Shilrick's drum." " It is not fancy, I think, Annesley," replied Ellis; ''the boy has a particularly fine touch, so firm, and yet so light. The Drum-Major says that it is a most difficult instrument to play well, but that Shilrick O'Toole is the very perfection of a drummer." A smile of pleasure crossed Annesley's grave face ; he was always glad to hear anyone speak in praise of his little favourite ; but Rochfort, hearing the remarks of the two officers, looked after them, as they passed the window, with a peculiar cynical expression ; then, turning to Eveleen, he spoke with a certain inflection in his voice intended to make his words appear the more significant. ''What a t^rrv s/ro//^^ interest Captain Annesley appears to take in that young drummer ! Is there any particular cause for such a feeling. Miss Corrie ? " " Yes," she replied, coldly, "there is great cause. Shilrick O'Toole's brother, Kerry, is Captain Annesley's foster- brother." "Ah ! " said Rochfort, sarcastically. " Possibly that might be a sufficient reason ; but of course / do not understand these sort of extraordinary relationships, you know", so can't quite sympathise." " No, I suppose not," answered Eveleen, coldly. "But, indeed," continued Rochfort, "the feeling between them seems more of affection than mere interest. The boy is made a regular pet and plaything, apparently, by the officers and men of his corps, too, and he certainl}^ seems to have plenty of idle time on his hands, at any rate, and an extra amount of liberty, which is scarcely wise," he added, significantly, "for I should say he knows too much of the people and this neighbourhood. I saw him this very evening in the gloaming, far from barracks, careering over the coun- OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. I// try. I followed him for some distance, to watch where he went." "Ah!" said Eveleen, with quiet sarcasm. "I understand. And were you successful in your self-imposed task of play- ing the spy ? " she asked. Rochfort might have been warned by the rising colour in Eveleen's face, and the contempt on that of Digby, who was still standing opposite to him, but his conceit alwa3^s stood him in good stead and made him impervious to sarcasm ; it was impossible for him to imagine that anything Jie might do or say could ever be considered wrong, or ''bad form," which ■point in his character was well known to his own brother officers (by whom he was often styled '' Rochfort the Imma- culate") and his very high opinion of himself was soon discovered by others with whom he came in contact. On this occasion he seemed determined to pursue the subject of Shilrick O'Toole, and the undue favouritism that he considered was bestowed upon the drummer by his corps in general, and Captain Annesley in particular. '* No, Miss Corrie," he replied, '' I was sorry that I was obliged to relinquish my attempt to follow the boy ; it was growing late, and he met some girl on the way with whom he went off. Possibly," he added, with a cynical smile, '' he had some message for her, or she might be a foster-brother's foster-sister, or something of that sort, you know, — some one in whom his Captain might be interested. However, I could go no further ; it was then time for me to come here, and," he continued, bowing low to Eveleen, '' I am afraid in this instance, — I am thankful to say such a feeling does not often get the better of me — but in this instance, I followed the call of pleasure rather than of diityy '' Indeed ! " replied Eveleen, with coldest displeasure in her tones, " I should scarcely have thought that playing the spy on soldiers of his own, or any other regiment, when they are out on leave, formed a part of Lieutenant Rochfort's duties." "And, pardon me, Rochfort!" struck in Digby, unable any longer to restrain his indignation, " I should have thought you had quite enough to do to look after your own fellows, don't you know, without interfering with ours." VOL. I. N 178 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; ** Thanks, Mr. Digby," whispered Lady Mabel to him, "I am sure that Eveleen, as well as myself, will feel personally obliged to you for taking down the conceit of our cavalry friend." Bright was the smile with which Digby received Lady Mabel's words, but she had, unfortunately, reckoned without her host with regard to Rochfort, for that young gentleman was by no means abashed ; he turned to Digby with a cool, insolent bow, and replied : '4 stand corrected, Digby; but at the same time," he continued, with a sneering smile, that was most exasperating to the honest, straightforward young Marine officer, " at the same time, you must allow me to say that I consider it my duty to interfere if I see anything done that might endanger the cause of the Government, or of the King, whose commis- sion I have the honour to hold, by preventing the military from gaining correct information regarding the movements of the people. Now, this boy — " '' Lieutenant Rochfort," indignantly interrupted Digby, ''you have said enough. At present you are our guest, sol cannot answer you as I should wish. Permit me to add, however, that I think 1 can relieve your mind, by reminding you that the Marines have never yet been found wanting in truth and loyalty to their King and country, and I think you will find quite as much of both in our corps, as in your regiment. As for Shilrick the Drummer, he is true to the core." "Well," said Rochfort, incredulously, *' I hope you may find that he is so." " Impudent young jackanapes !" murmured Major Ricardo to Colonel Corrie, both those officers having been amused listeners to the conversation at the window. '' I wonder that young lad of yours did not tell him to go to the devil ! " *' I do not think Digby would have been at all behind- hand in doing that," answered Colonel Corrie, smiling, ''only you see, he was handicapped by the presence of the ladies and the thought that Rochfort was our guest." That Rochfort hated Annesley with a bitter, undying hatred was perfectly apparent to all who knew them. He had deter- minedly put himself forward as a rival to the latter from the OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 1/9 time that he had been introduced to Colonel Corrie's daughter, and continued to honour her with his attentions, even though he saw that they were not especially welcome ; to do him justice, however, he was not then aware of Eveleen's engagement to Annesley. His anger and jealousy were the more keen, when he found that all his blandishments had no effect upon Eveleen, and that he could make no advance in her favour. His vanity had been so desperately wounded that he was not likely soon to forget the one whom he con- sidered the chief cause of his defeat. His hatred was ex- tended to Shilrick, because the young drummer was a favourite of Annesley, and he knew that the boy was devoted to his Captain, while even poor little Nap came in for a share of this 3^oung officer's ill-will, on account of his having shown, on more than one occasion, a decided preference for his rival, and returned his own hostile feeling with interest. The silence that followed the dispute between the two officers was again broken by Rochfort. *' To return to our former conversation. Miss Corrie," he commenced, turning once more to E\eleen, ** I must say that your views re- garding this rising are very pronounced, and indeed, actually in favour of the Rebels." *' No," replied Eveleen. ** I do not favour the Rebels, or rather I do not approve of the means they are taking to gain the end they wish to attain ; but I have said, and say again, that it seems to me horrible, the way they are being hunted down. If they have a regular rising, and you, the military, are called out to quell the disturbance, that is different, for there is then only fair, open fighting between you, man to man, but it is terrible the way you sometimes hunt them — like regular sleuth hounds." ** And if we are not to do this, in what manner do you propose to eradicate the seeds of treason, and to put down the Rebellion ? " he asked, superciliously. ''Not by the means you are now using, certainly," replied Eveleen. '' You are acting as if you were dealing with two hostile nations. You must not forget that, in this case, however much the one side may differ from the other, those connected with the rising, as well as those who are loyal subjects, are all fellow countrymen. The latter may have N 2 l80 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; friends, even near and dear relations, among the former, and they are right — yes, perfectly right — to shield those united to them by ties of kindred and country. You hunt the innocent as well as the guilty. You would even punish, or imprison, men or women, however loyal they might be at heart, because they would not be cajoled or bribed into turning traitors and betraying those who are nearest and dearest to them." '' Unfortunately I cannot follow you there, nor can I sympathize with what / feel to be a mere matter of sentiment. As I have said before now I do not consider, that, in a case of such vital importance to the King I serve, and to the Eng- lish Government, private feelings should be considered at all, but, at any rate, I wish the Rebellion was at an end and that we could leave this wretched hole of a country, and these treacherous people — they are hardly worth our powder and shot." ** Thanks, Lieutenant Rochfort ! " returned Eveleen, indig- nantly, ** I fancy you must surely have forgotten that you were speaking to an Irishwoman." *'And two other Irishwomen sitting near for witnesses," chimed in Lady Mabel, briskly, indicating herself and Mrs. Corrie. ** Sure you wouldn't be leaving us out of the ques- tion, Eveleen, my dear ? " ** And with regard to your not understanding the feelings of our people," continued Eveleen to Rochfort, *' I can quite imagine that the love of kin and country, that is inherent in every Irish and Scottish heart, seems to have but little weight with your cold countrymen. But enough of this, I prefer not to discuss the subject with one who can find nought save abuse for poor sorrowing Erin, the dear land of my birth." What reply Rochfort might have made in excuse, or de- fence, of his uncomplimentary remarks upon Ireland, was not destined to be heard, for at that moment a man was seen hurrying across the barrack square, in evident excitement, who, on nearer approach, was discovered to be Jeremiah Stalker, the English patrol. He was followed closely by the orderly, who had been standing at the gate, but who found it incompatible with his soldierly walk and dignity, to attempt OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. l8l to keep pace with Stalker's hasty and ambUng steps, as he quickly made his way across the parade, and approached Annesley and Ellis, and, without delay, commenced to inform them of his errand. '' Please, sir, there 'ave been a murder, or a haccident, or su'cide, or some'at of that, somewheres near here, and I thought it my doot}' for to come to the Colonel to give hinfor- mation on the subjeck." '* Where was it that this murder, suicide, or accident happened, Stalker ? " asked Annesley, while Ellis went to the w^indow to call Colonel Corrie, who imm.ediately hastened outside to hear all particulars. " It were somewheres about that there hold bridge, near 'ere, sir," said Stalker, in reply to Annesley's question. " Leastways, that's what a chap I 'appened for to meet on my beat told mie." " But why did 3'ou not go to the place and see for 3'our- self ? You might have been able to render some assistance," said Annesley, impatiently. '^ I didn't want for to make no delay in coming 'ere, sir," answered the patrol. The simple truth was, that Stalker, being one who firml}^ held with the opinion that '' discretion is the better part of valour," was in no way desirous of placing himself in danger without the protection of a party of stalwart, stout-hearted Marines. And he was afraid that, in the present instance, the disaster, about which he had heard such a garbled account, was but the forerunner of broken heads, and a faction tight. " My good man ! " said the Colonel, now addressing Stal- ker. " This is scarcely a matter for which 3'ou required to call out the military', and besides, you should have brought some reliable information." '' Did you give our fellows at the cavalry barracks, the honour of a call too, Stalker ? " asked Rochfort, ironically. The patrol paused for a moment, ere he replied, then plant- ing himself in front of Rochfort, and crossing his arms behind him, he regarded the officer, fixedly, out of the corners of his small pale eyes, his head very much on one side, and his nose taking an extra upward curve. 1 82 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; " No, sir," he answered at last, '' I can't say as I did ; you see, sir, 'osses would 'ave been no use in the circanstances, an' I've 'eard as the cavalry wasn't no good without 'em." Never had Lieutenant Rochfort been so taken aback before, or felt so flatly snubbed. He was the more angry as he saw the barely suppressed smiles on the faces of the other officers, and even Major Ricardo, in spite of Stalker's uncomplimentary opinion of his branch of the service, could scarcely restrain his amusement, for Rochfort's insolence was well known among his brother officers. Eveleen was laughing heartily behind the shelter of her fan, feeling fully avenged for all Rochfort's sarcastic speeches concerning her countrymen. She, with Lady Mabel (who had been exchanging triumphant glances with Digby) and Mrs. Corrie, had now risen and were standing at the window, all being anxious to hear the news, and the cause of the patrol's sudden appearance at such an hour. '* I suppose," said Colonel Corrie to Annesley, '' since this patrol has come here, we must send a small party of our men with him to see what has really happened, and render any necessary assistance ? " ** It will be best to do so, sir," replied Annesley. "I won't say but you '<7r/best come; they say as the young man as has been murdered or killed 'isself or met with a haccident, is that peppery, gipsy-lookin' young chap, as you takes such a hinterest in, and was in the Draggles (or what- ever you calls the place, that there large deep ditch with the 'igh banks heach side and the trees a-growin' out of 'em) ; he 'ad a young 'ooman with 'im then, and I makes no doubt shes at the bottom of this 'ere lamentable hoccurrence." In a moment it flashed across the mind of Annesley that the place so graphically and romantically described by Stalker was the Glen of the Dargle, and the next words of the patrol confirmed his suspicion. ** You'll remember, sir, there was a himpident, cocky 3^oung drummer there, and you come up and hinterfered with me in the discharge of my dooty ? The which, — " *'Ah!" exclaimed Annesley, suddenly, " I remember. Oh !" he cried in horror, "you do not mean that it is Kerry O'Toole — my foster-brother 1 " OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 1 83 '* That's the chap, sir, leastways from what I can 'ear," repHed the patrol, complacently, ** but there, don't take on about the likes of 'im. I should say if so be as it is 'i'm that it's a subjeck for congrat'lation, for I believe as he was one of 'em wild sort that if he weren't born for to be drownded he was bound to be 'anged in the hend." What might have been the result had Annesle}' heard the conclusion of Stalker's speech, it is hard to conjecture ; but long before the patrol had done speaking he was on his way to his own quarters, and throwing around him his large military cloak he hastened to join the party of soldiers now assembled on the parade, in readiness to start for the scene of the disaster. " Oh, Kerry, Kerry I " he murmured, "what is it that has happened to you, my most unfortunate foster-brother ? And Shilrick is absent ; alas ! what news for him on his return. Ah ! " he exclaimed, suddenly, '' I had forgotten, he w^as to have stayed with Kerry to-night. Where can he be now ? " Not once did Annesley glance towards the Colonel's win- dow as he passed, so he knew not of the pale, anxious face, and the tearful eyes that were watching him depart ; but it is probable that had Eveleen thought he was looking at her, she would immediately have assumed her former expression of cold indifference and scorn. Thus, the gulf of pride which had separated these two lovers, was widening day by day, threatening, ere long, to form an impassable barrier be- tween them, that even time could not break down nor lessen. They were ruthlessly wrecking their life's happiness, as many others had done before them, and, alas ! as many others will yet do as long as the world lasts. And meanwhile, as time passed, onlookers were w^ont to comment upon the progress that Rochfort seemed to be making in Eveleen's favour ; they knew not that it was a feeling of pique at the coolness of Annesley which caused her to receive the attentions of the young dragoon with more apparent pleasure than she would otherwise have done. A few of Rochfort's brother officers, however, inclined to the belief that Eveleen had discovered the better quahties in their comrade, which they imagined he really possessed, marred,. 184 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; and hidden though they Vv'ere beneath the outward vanity and veiy objectionable egotism of his manner. There were even those in his regiment who could tell of man}^ little kindnesses shown to his brother officers, when in trouble, or to the wives and children of some of the poorest of the troopers, and, moreover, one of these troopers used to tell his comrades that he would never have returned from his last campaign, never more have seen the dear ones at home, but for a certain dashing 3'oung cofnet, then little more than a boy, who, under heavy fire of the enem}', paused to assist him when he fell, wounded and helpless, and, lifting him on to his own horse, gallantly continued on his way with this double burden, until he landed the wounded trooper in safety, and through all he had acted as C00II3' and calmly as if he had been at some regimental sports or tournament at home. Many of the defects in Roch fort's character had been caused by his early training ; with a harsh step-mother, and an indifferent father, he was left almost entire!}^ to the care and guidance of an old servant, who half-worshipped the motherless child, but who, at the same time, finding him neglected b}^ others, went to the opposite extreme, and spoilt him with foolish flattery, and injudicious yielding to ever}-- bo^'ish wish and caprice ; this pernicious course of treat- ment was, in a measure, continued b}^ the ladies of the regiment, when Percival Rochfort first joined as cornet, a wilful, vain, and very good-looking lad, but withal some- thing lovable about him. Rochfort's supercilious manner, and the egotism before mentioned, won for him many enemies among his own sex, but, at the same time, he also had a few firm friends in the regiment. That this was the case may be gathered from the conversation of Captain Drelincourt and Lieutenant Saunders, two of his brother officers, as they were proceeding home- ward from Glencree Barracks, on the evening of which the important events have just been related. ** I think," said Drelincourt, *' that Miss Corrie might do worse than accept Rochfort. I hope she is not trifling with him, though," he added, thoughtfull}^, '* for I believe the lad really cares for her, and he has not had a very bright, or happy life so far." OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. I85 ''You think that Miss Corrie may not be in earnest then ? " asked Saunders, quickl}'. "No. I don't say that/' rephed the other, '' only I have fancied sometimes that she has appeared pre-occupied, and even almost impatient, when Rochfort has been pressing his attentions upon her." ''Well ! some say, that Annesley, of the Marines, is an admirer of the 3'oung lad}^ ; if so, I should certainly advise her to choose ///;;/." "That is because you never liked Rochfort, and never would believe that there is an}^ good in him ; but /am certain •that, if any great opportunity occurs in his life, Rochfort will not be found wanting." "Ah ! " returned the other, " you are, for some reason or other, prejudiced in his favour." " No," replied Drelincouri;, " I am only just, and moreover, my opinion is shared by others." "Well! every man his own opinion, say I;" answered Saunders, shrugging his shoulders significantly, " but it has always been a sort of riddle to me, don't 3'ou know, — ^find the good in Rochfort' " Drelincourt remained silent for a moment, regarding the other curiously ; at last he spoke : "Why, Saunders! if I did not know the very excellent opinion you have of yourself, and oi your own powers of attraction, I could almost imagine that 3^ou are jealous of Rochfort." "/jealous of poor Rochfort !^'' exclaimed Saunders, sneer- ingly, " I should be glad, Drelincourt, if 3^ou w^ould kindly inform me, what the deuce there is for nie to be jealous of, in ////;/." " A great deal more than there is for Rochfort to be envious of, in j'o//," replied Drelincourt, quietly, as he glanced at the somewhat coarse and sensual face of the man before him, and thought of the refined features and aristocratic bearing of his other 3'oung comrade. "You asked for my opinion, 3^ou know, Saunders, so I have given it frankl3^; but we will not discuss the subject farther ; for here we are at 3'our quarters, so I'll take my leave, and proceed to mine — 3^et stay ! " he added, hesitatingly, as he paused at the foot of the 1 86 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; Steps leading to Saunders' room, '^ I do not think you should deliberately run down Rochfort, or any of your own brother officers, to outsiders, as I continually hear you doing." '' Why ? " demanded the other, shortly, " I suppose I have a right to express my opinions freely, if I choose, and say what I like ? " '* Oh, certainly ! if you choose ; the costermonger has the same liberty and freedom of speech ; but in your case, Saunders, it is decidedly ' bad form ' to avail yourself of it. We are all so much together, that of necessity we see and know all each other's faults and failings, and / have always considered it a point of honour that both officers and men should do their utmost to uphold their comrades in the service, and especially those fellows belonging to their own regiments. It should be the effort of each one of us to maintain the honour and the prestige of his own corps or regiment. Military glory in the time of war is a grand thing, but it is also good, in the time of peace, to hear that our regiment is an honour to the service, and that it is respected and liked wherever it may be stationed. That is all I have to say. Good-night, Saunders ! " OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 1 8/ CHAPTER XVI. " I saw from the beach when the morning was shining, A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on ; I came when the sun o'er that beach was declining, The bark was still there, but the waters were gone. And such is the fate of our life's early promise, So passing the springtide of joy we have known. Each wave that we danc'd on at morning, ebbs from us. And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore alone ! " Moore. Shilrick O'Toole, having faithfully delivered the message from his officers to Squire O'Shaughnessy, then retraced his steps with all speed to his brother's shanty, thinking that, as it was so late, Kerry would certainly have returned home, after safely landing Thalia Coghlan with her grandmother. As he neared his destination, however, he was much sur- prised to see no signs of a light of any kind, and on going up to the door, he found that there was no one within. It was a lonely shanty, without a trace of any other habitation near it, and surrounded by a wide, wild track of moorland, bordered by a range of purple hills and moun- tains. Without, were most unmistakable signs of poverty, and when Shilrick lifted the latch and looked in, the interior appeared to afford but little evidence of comfort. There are times when the best and most believing of us, must scarcely be able to help feeling how very unequally are Fortune's gifts bestowed in this world. Kerry O'Toole was a young man of good, honest character, 1 88 ' SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; leal and true in all his dealings ; he was, moreover, indus- trious, and might have been in comparatively comfortable circumstances, but for a series of the most trying misfortunes, bad seasons, and the continual ill-luck that seemed so per- sistently to attend him in every effort, and in every circum- stance of his life. For a time he had been fairly disheartened, and almost gave up striving against a fate so adverse ; it is probable that he might have grown callous and have taken to bad company and evil ways, but, from this, his faithful love for Thalia Coghlan had saved him, together with the hope that is inherent in the heart of every Irishman, be his trials ever so great. " It's well it's no woorse," is a saying one often hears among them, even when it would appear that their lives are full of care and sorrow. Of late, however, things had seemed to prosper more with Kerry, but he determined that, for a while at least, there should be no outward signs of an improvement in his fortunes, lest the English land agent should raise the rent on him, and so leave him in a worse condition than before. Though Kerr}'-' was not at home, Shilrick found that there were still signs of life within the shanty. An important- looking cock, with a prodigious plume of feathers adorning his head, followed by two or three hens, flew down from the rafters, where they had been quietly roosting. A favourite collie, now too old to follow Kerry for any long distance, lay stretched out in front of the fireplace, and an unusually clean-looking pig was enjoying a sound sleep on a couch of straw in a far corner of the apartment. The place being devoid of all unnecessar}^ or superfluous furni- ture, Kerry had been obliged to dispose of his limited ward- robe by hanging various articles of clothing upon ropes passed across the ceiling. To Shilrick, accustomed to barrack-life and discipline, the general untidiness that prevailed was perfectly appalling ; but with this energetic young soldier, to think was to act. ** Oh, Kerry, Kerry !" he said, smilingly, ''sure 'tis aisy seein'j'o?/ don't belong to the army, annyhow. Troth, then, I wondher how he does be findin' his things when he wants thim, at all, at all ! I wondher if Thalia has iver had a pape OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 1 89 into this illigint apartment ; sure it's her hand is wanted here, enthirely. An' the fire's gone out, too, an' poor ould Rory widout a bit av a flame to kape him warm," he added, as he kindly stroked the head of the colHe, the dog having hastily risen on Shilrick's entrance, to give him a hearty welcome. And, indeed, he was soon surrounded by all the live-stock belonging to Kerry. The cock and the hens were running about his feet, while even the pig, on waking up suddenly and finding who was the disturber of her slumbers, came forward and gave a grunt of satisfaction. All dumb creatures seemed to understand by instinct that, in the little drummer, they had a true friend. ''Sure /'// soon have ivery thin' nate and illigant 'gainst Kerry comes in," continued the active lad, as he commenced to arrange the heterogeneous collection of' articles, the dis- posal of which was certainty not suggestive of "a place for everything, and everything in its place." When he had re- duced the confusion to something like order, he relighted the fire and next decided to have an inspection of the com- missariat department, seeing that there were no prepartions for supper. " Now, Kerry hasn't had the manners to prepare for his guest, at all, and it's himself knew I was comin'," exclaimed the boy. ** But, sure, here's a rabbit, an' here's bread an' chase, an' pratees ; troth, I'll have an illigant enthertainment set out by the thime he comes, though 'tis might}^ long he's sthayin', an' he knows it isn't ofthen Fve an avenin' to be wid him, but 'tis little the boy thinks av that, I'll go bail, whin he's got Thalia wid him. Och ! " he cried, impatientl}^, at last, when all his arrangements for the forthcoming entertainment were complete, ''what can have come to Kerry, that he's not here ? Maybes he's all this thime wid Thalia an' her grandmother. It'll not thake long, I'll go there afther him — but maybes the supper will spoil," he continued, thoughtfully, in some fear lest his culinary efforts should be unsuccessful for want of proper superin- tendence. " I'll put the pot aff av the fire, an' set it on wan side; it'll not go wrong," he decided. " An' ould Rory will sit an' watch it, and see that craythur, Molly Baivn^' shaking his head smilingly at the pig, " doesn't be burnin' her nose 190 agin the pot, thryin' to thaste what's in it. I'll sthart now for Granny Coghlan's, an' see v/hat's kapin' that rogue av the world, Kerry, so I will." Once more Shilrick set off across the moor, and was not long in reaching the Coghlan's shanty. Outwardly this abode presented much the same appearance of poverty as Kerry's dwelling, but within all was bright and comfortable, for there Thalia's careful, industrious hands had softened and toned down all the defects, while her old grandmother, tidily dressed, and seated in a large wooden chair, amid a pile of gay chintz-covered cushions, presented a perfect picture of ease and comfort, while the expression of calm contentment on her face showed that she was well and lovingly tended. She still retained traces of the beauty that once had been hers, and which had evidently been inherited by her grand- daughter Thalia. In truth. Granny Coghlan had been a belle in her day, and had caused many a heart-ache among '' the likely boys " in her neighbourhood. When Shilrick knocked at the door and received no answer, he imagined that Mrs. Coghlan must still be alone, and that, being deaf, she could not hear him ; so lifting the latch he looked in and found, as he had thought, that the only occupant of the room was the old woman, who had evidently been em- ployed in knitting, but now the needles lay idly on her lap, and she seemed wrapped in a deep reverie, gazing at the flickering, ever-changing lights in the peat fire, her thoughts very far away from the present, and from the scene before her. That the entrance of Shilrick O'Toole was a pleasant interruption could be easily seen by her cheerful smile, and eager look of pleasure when she saw the bright face, and heard the merry voice, of the drummer. '' Save ye kindly, Granny Coghlan ! " he cried, " sure it's mesilf said I'd come to see yez soon agin, an here I am, thrue to me word." "An' it's welcome ye are, Shilrick, ma bouchaleen dhas" replied Mrs. Coghlan, as she held out her hands to him. *' But, Granny," continued the boy, anxiously, as he placed his arm over the back of her chair, and bent his head close to hers, so that she might be the better able to hear what he OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. I9I said, ''sure I thought to find Kerry an' ThaHa here — what's become av thim, at all, at all ? " asked Shilrick, anxiously. " Kerry isn't at home, it's from his shanty I've just come."' Granny Coghlan was always particularly "dull o' hearin'" when roused suddenly from sleep, or a deep reverie, in which she frequently indulged in her lonely hours, and, like most deaf people, she always imagined that her companion had said something totally different from the subject under dis- cussion at the time. " Oh I " she cried in sudden terror, and mistaking what Shilrick had said, " who is it that's been spakin' av lettin' this shanty ? Hasn't it been the home av mesilf an' thim belongin' to me, all these years gone ? Who's goin' to tarn me out now, I'd be for axin ? " " No wan that I know av, Granny dear," replied the boy, smiling, " it's all right enthirely ; I only said that Kerry wasn't home yet." " Kerry gone to market I— what market ? " she asked, now fairly bewildered. " Sure he hasn't taken Thalia wid him to ann}^ av thim places at this hour o' the night ? " "No, no, Granny, I was saving he wasn't home yet," cried Shilrick, elevating his voice still more. "Ah ! " said the old woman, at last understanding, as she became more accustomed to the tone of his voice, " no, he isn't, nor Thalia nayther, but they ought to be ; sure I don't know what she manes by sthayin' out all the dhay, philan- therin' about, an' enjoyin' hersilf, whiles I'd be left here all me lone enthirely." Shilrick, knowing of old that Granny once started on a real or imaginary grievance was no joke, at once tried to soothe her over, an' "put the furrawn on her," at the same time remarking how unjust it was to blam.e Thalia for leav- ing her in solitude, seeing that it was on her account the in- dustrious and affectionate girl was working, being employed in one way or another, from early morning until nightfall. At last having performed this task satisfactorily, he seated himself on the settle opposite Granny Coghlan, and commenced to relate to her some of the latest exploits of his barrack life, and various items of gossip of the neighbourhood 192 SHILRICK, THE DRUM^IER ; which he had chanced to hear, and which he thought would amuse and interest the old woman. After a pause in the conversation, during which the boy sat gazing thoughtfully into the fire, building castles in the air, and dreaming of future fame and glory, while old Granny Coghlan watched every passing expression on the bright, hopeful young face, with an earnest, wistful look in her sad eyes. '' Come here beside me, "Shilrick alannah ! " she said, '* an' maybes ye'll sing me one avthim purty songs," she added, as he brought a low stool and set it at her feet. ** Troth an' I will, Granny," he replied readily, "if it'll help to cheer yez," and forthwith he sang the following words to the old Irish tune known as "The Basket of Oysters" :— " Oh! could we do with this world of ours, As thou do'st with thy garden bow'rs, Reject the weeds and keep the flow'rs What a heaven on earth we'd make it ? . So bright a dwelling should be our own, • So warranted free from sigh or frown, That angels soon would be coming down, By the week or month to take it. Like those gay flies that wing through air, And in themselves a lustre bear, A stock of light still ready there, Whenever they wish to use it ; So, in this world I make for thee, Our hearts should all like fire-flies be. And the flash of wit or poesy Break forth whenever we choose it. While every joy that glads our sphere Hath still some shadow hovering near, In this new world of ours, my dear. Such shadows will all be omitted. Unless they're like that graceful one. Which when thou'rt dancing in the sun, Still near thee, leaves a charm upon Each spot where it hath flitted." ** That was well sung, aciiishla machrcc,^^ said the old woman, after a few moments' silence, when, on Shilrick look- ing up at her, thinking that she had fallen asleep, he found OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 193 her surreptitiously wiping her eyes with lier apron, and trying to hide the fast falhng tears. ''Why, Granny I sure I haven't made ye sad?" he ex- claimed. " It wasn't a sarious song I was singin'." " No, darlin'," she replied, sadly, '* but it's yersilf minded me av wan that used to sing that tune, but not thim words, in the days long passed away." *' Some wan ye cared for. Granny ? " asked the boy, softly. "Maybe so," she answered, with some reserve in her voice. "Tell me about it, Granny darlin'," requested Shilrick, with the intense curiosity of youth. It has been said that Kerry O'Toole, and Shilrick, were both favourites of Mrs. Coghlan, but for the youngest brother she had a peculiar affection. It was whispered that in the days of her youth, she had loved and been beloved most deeply, by the grandfather of the two lads, but that some misunderstanding had parted them, and she, in pique, and to show, as she proudly expressed it, " that she didn't care a thrazuiiecn for her lover," foolishly married in haste, only to repent at leisure, and to find, when too late, that her husband, Denis Coghlan, was an idle, worthless vagabond, and worse than all, that it was his treachery which had been the cause of the cruel misunderstanding between herself and her lover. From the time of that discovery, she had never known one day's happiness. Shilrick was said to be ver}^ like his dead grandfather, and he had been named after him, and these were probably the chief reasons for the old woman's wonderful affection for the little drummer. " Tell me, Granny ! " again persisted the boy, inquisitively, and hoping to hear a thrilling romance. "There then, darlin', sure an' I will, avick inachrcc,'^ she said, tenderly, as her fingers strayed caressingly among the powdered locks of fair hair that adorned the head resting so contentedly on her knee. Thus they sat, Granny Coghlan, still beautiful in her old age, and the handsome boy, with the earnest, thoughtful eyes. The light from the fire now glancing on both faces and resting with a warm, ruddy glow upon Shilrick's red coat and glittering accoutrements, then dying away in a faint, VOL. I. O 194 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; fitful flame, and leaving them in shadow — a more suitable accompaniment to the sorrowful tale the old woman was relating to the boy. Even now, though long years had passed, and Granny Coghlan had seen two generations grow up around her, yet the pain seemed as keen as ever, while, in memory, she wandered back to the days when she had been called "The Beauty of Wicklow," and when Shilrick's grandfather was ever to be found at her side, with heart as staunch and true as his little namesake and descendant, now sitting at her feet. When Mrs. Coghlan had ended the sad recital of the ro- mance of her youthful days, Shilrick shook his head gravely, and somewhat startled her b}^ the solemn remark : *' Oh Granny dear ! Sure 'tis this world that's full av sorrow an' care, enthirely ! " '^ What's that ye're sayin' ? " she queried, anxiously, and when the boy repeated his words, she tenderly put her arm around his shoulders, and, drawing him nearer to her, peered down into his face. '' Aciiishla machrce ! " she murmured, softly. '' Sure, I don't like to hear such words as thim from yersilf. Come, Shilrick, ma boiichalccn dlias, look up — let me see the smile on yer face agin. That's right, now ! " she added, as he lifted his bright, merry face to hers, " that's well, avourneen ! " Ah, Granny Coghlan I little did you think when you tried to call forth that smile, that it would be the last seen on the little drummer's face for many a weary day. Well might you draw the poor, motherless boy closer to you, with tender, caressing touch — well might you breathe that earnest prayer for his future, for the shadow of a terrible trial and grief was hovering over him. '' Maybes I shouldn't have told yersilf, Shilrick jewel, an' yet I thought it's a warnin' it might be to yez, when the thime comes, an' ye see a colleen that's worthy av 3^er love. Then, darlin', remember Granny Coghlan's tale, and niver let jealousy or misthrust find a place in yer heart, thrust thim out as ye would yer bittherest enemy, or they'll sthale all the sunshine an' happiness from yer life enthirely." ''Ah, but. Granny," said the boy, earnestly. "Sure, /'// niver be in love, at all, at all." OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 195 ** Why, honey ? " queried Mrs. Coghlan, amused at his de- cisive tones. ** Bekase," he repHcd, gravely, shaking his head, " it does be always bringin' a dale av throuble to thim that's in it." " Ye'Il maybes think different some day, darlin," said the old woman, with her sweet, peaceful smile. '* But, Shilrick avick, what can be the raison that Kerry and Thalia are not home yet ? Sure, I niver knew him kape her out late like this bafore," she added, anxiously. **Ah !" cried Shilrick, quickly rising to his feet, 'Svhat's that?" The noise that had startled him, was that of many voices in excited discussion ; several people were evi- dently approaching the shanty, but before he could reach the door to see who were the intruders, it was burst open, and Sheymus Malloy entered, bearing in his arms the lifeless form of Thalia Coghlan, the water streaming from her clothes and from her long hair, which, having become loosened from its coils fell over his shoulder in rich profusion. Sheymus himself was wet to the skin, and bruised and torn by the rocks in his fruitless attempt to save Kerry, and afterwards in rescuing Thalia. Worn and weary too, with the heavy though precious burden he had borne so far, he was just able to place Thalia carefully and tenderly on the wooden settle, when he fell exhausted into the nearest chair, apparently unable to utter one word of ex- planation to the horrified occupants of the shanty, who were watching the scene as if spell-bound ; while those who had accompanied Sheymus, and who, but a few moments before, had been talking so volubly now seemed under the general spell of silence. One solitary wayfarer had chanced to cross the bridge a moment after Thalia's accident, indeed he had witnessed her fall, from the road, and was in consequence quite a hero, and a most important personage amongst his less fortunate companions, who had joined the mournful procession as it went along, always adding to their numbers, until by the time they reached Mrs. Coghlan's shanty, there were gathered together some two or three dozen men, women and children, a few of whom contrived to crowd in O — 2 196 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; after Sheymus, the remainder having to be satisfied with a more distant post of observation, outside the open door. " Kerry ! where is Kerry ? " cried Shilrick, at last ; '' can't ye tell me, Sheymus Malloy ? Can't anny av ye tell me ? " he asked, despairingly, turning to those who had accompanied Sheymus. ** Heaven help ye, Shilrick ! Sure, it's drowned yer bro- ther Kerry is," said one of the women, pityingly. ''Drowned!" exclaimed the boy, ''where ? Oh I tell me more — some wan — tell me — so that 1 can go to him ! " '' 'Twas at the ould bridge, where he wint to mate Thalia Coghlan," replied one of the men. " An^ you were there wid her^ it's yersilf that's brought her home," cried Shilrick, fiercely, turning to Sheymus Malloy. " An' oh ! sure I know now, as well as if I'd sane it wid me own two eyes. 'Tis yersilf that's done it ! " " /! " said Sheymus, slowly, roused for a moment from the apathy that seemed to be stealing over him. " / done it ? Ah! no, no! 'twas himsilf — he — he jumped over the bridge — he wanted to dhrown himsilf — an' — oh ! sure it's bewildered I'm growin ! bewildered, enthirely," murmured the young farmer, sadly, as he buried his face in his hands. " Listen, Sheymus Malloy," said Shilrick, passionately, going up to him, and clasping his shoulder like a vice in his anguish and sorrow. " Listen ! I say, whether he done it himself or not, 'tis you that's been the cause. D'ye hear ? I say it's yersilf — an' that colleen, yondher. Heaven forgive her for her faithlessness to Kerry ! I can't, nor iiivver will — an' oh ! how can I tell that ye didn't quarrel wid him and push him over the rocks ? Annyhow, I tell yez 'tis naythur more nor less than murdher ye've com- mitted for 'tis yersilf that made her false to Kerry, an' if he drowned himself, ye've his life, an' his dark crime on yer sowl. Ye may escape justice here, but there's another world above, an ye'll mate it there, for as surely as if ye'd sent a bullet through his heart, 'tis yersilf that's Kerry's murdherer this night. Oh, Kerry, Kerry ! " cried the boy, with pas- sionate emotion, as he rushed to the door and out of the shanty, " Heaven help me ! I've not wan av me own kith an' kin left to me now in all the whole wide world ! " OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 197 In the confusion on the entrance of Sheymus Malloy, and Shilrick's accusation of him, no one seemed to have noticed ThaHa's grandmother ; the poor old woman had risen from her chair, and attempted to hasten to ThaHa's side, but she had paused midway, her hand grasping the table, her face pallid and with an unconscious expression upon it, she appeared for some moments as if turned to stone ; at last she gasped out the words, *' Thalia ! my little Thalia ! Oh ! my grand- child ! the jewel av my heart ! She w^as all I had — all — she isn't dead ! Thalia ! Thalia ! " she cried, mournfully, holding out her arms towards the prostrate form on the settle ; and in a moment, before anyone had time to go to her assistance, she fell prone upon the floor. Kind hands raised her, and carried her tenderly to her chair, where they laid her once m.ore among the pile of cushions. She had every care, and loving attention, but ere the dawn of another day, poor old Granny Coghlan's eyes had closed in her last long sleep. There was a look of ineffable peace and content on the beautiful old face, her spirit had flown to that happier home above, where she would never more know sorrow nor care, where life's dark shadows have no place, where all is joy and rest for — " The day is aye fair In the land o' the leal." 198 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; CHAPTER XVIL " 'Twas fate, they'll say, a wayward fate, Your web of discord wove ; And while your tyrants joined in hate ! You never joined in love ! But hearts fell off that ought to twine, And men profaned what God had giv'n Till some were heard to curse the shrine. Where others knelt to Heav'n." Moore. Somewhere about the same time when Wolfe Tone left Ireland, Lord Edward Fitzgerald, a nobleman who had for- merly served as a major in the army, and who was a brother of the Duke of Leinster, joined the society of the *' United Irishmen^ Lord Fitzgerald's example was soon followed by Thomas Addis Emmet ; Arthur O'Connor, a nephew of Lord Longueville ; a doctor, belonging to Connaught, called McNevin, who was then practising with considerable success in Dublin ; and other political agitators of the day, all of whom were most important additions to the Society^ and being men of note they were called upon to act on the ^^ Executive Directory T This was during the years 1796 and 1797. The coercive measures adopted by Parliament, and which were carried through Session after Session, together with the Orange persecutions in many counties, and other real grievances of which both the Irish Protestants and Roman Catholics had good cause to complain. Lord Fitzwilliam's re- call, the continued failure, year after year, of Ponsonby's motion for Reform, followed by the secession of the famous OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 199 Grattan and his supporters from Parliament, the former being in despair at the non-success of his demands for " Irish Inde- pendence," and last, but not least, the total suppression of the public Press, all combined to increase the discontent that was now rife throughout the whole of the country, rousing rebel- lious feelings, even in hearts that had hitherto been most loyal. Poor, unhappy Ireland, was indeed at that time like a rudderless ship, tossed hither and thither upon the waves of a tempestuous sea of discord, mutual mistrust, and civil warfare. The suppression of the Press was most disastrous in its consequences, as it must ever be in a country where free- dom has been the rule. The public Press is ostensibly the representative of the people, w^hether they be Tories or Whigs ; it is the voice by which they make known their wishes, their opinions, their complaints, or their praise. Each party ought to read and to carefully study the opinions of the other, for no man can be a just politician who under- stands only one side of a question. It is said that " The voice of the people is the voice of God," but it must at the same time be remembered that the term People in this sense in- cludes Tories and Whigs alike, without favour or affection, without distinction of class, politics, or religion. At the latter end of 1797, Ireland was truly in the state of *'a house divided against itself." A storm had been raised which was felt more or less keenly throughout the whole country, and all Irishmen, whether Protestants, or Roman Catholics, were doomed to reap a terrible whirlwind. The Irish people were at this time so maddened and ex- asperated at the cruelty and the injustice that was so con- stantly heaped upon them, that they appeared to be blind to the fact that " union is strength," and that while they continued their dissensions amongst themselves, their enemies had the more power to crush them ; man}- who were only half Irishmen, and who had come over from America on the pretence of helping them, as v/ell as foreigners from other lands, found that their best opportunity of ad- vancing their own interests was in keeping Ireland a disunited country. In 1798, there were many important risings in different 200 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; parts of Ireland ; and at one time the Rebels numbered 500,000 strong, 300,000 of whom were fully armed and well- disciplined. A large proportion of these belonged to Ulster and Leinster, while man}^ w^ere returned for Connaught and Munster. Of these forces, Lord Edward Fitzgerald was appointed Commander-in-Chief. He was most unfortunate in placing so much reliance upon receiving help from France, which had been repeatedly promised, for these promises were not fulfilled, and a few days previous to the great outbreak in Ireland, Buonaparte sailed, with the flower of his army, for the expedition to Alexandria. Lord Edward Fitzgerald was destined never to be the leader of the Rebel forces in the great rising, for he was basely betrayed by a man called Higgins, and was arrested in his place of concealment by three English officers. The insurrection was thus left for a second time with- out a leader, but the organization had then advanced so far, and the arrangements were so complete, that the in- tended Rebellion proceeded as before ordered. Many encounters, more or less serious, followed, between the In- surgents and the Military, at Rathfarnham, about three miles from Dublin, where Lord Ely's yeomanry were attacked by 500 of the Rebels, who would probably have been victorious but for the appearance of a large body of Dragoons from the cit}^ At Dunboyne the insurgents attacked an escort of the Royal Scotch Fencibles, but without much loss on the other side, save that the former contrived cleverly to capture the baggage of the soldiers. At Naas a large force attacked the garrison and renewed the attack three times with the greatest gallantry, but were at last re- pulsed, with considerable loss of life. At Prosperous, however, the rebels were particularly suc- cessful, for there they cut off a whole garrison, composed of a powerful body of Cork Militia. Next followed the important rising at Wexford. The In- surgents collected in great numbers, and marched to Ennis- corthy, which they succeeded in taking. They were then encamped on Vinegar Hill for some time ; but here they were at last surrounded by the soldiers numbering over 20,000, and OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 201 were forced to surrender after nearly two hours' hard fighting, when many distinguished themselves by their bravery. Great loss of life was the result of the terrible encounter on Vinegar Hill. After this, the countr}' was somewhat quieter, but only for a very short period, and there were constant skirmishes be- tween small detachments of the Roj^al troops and the Rebels, in different Provinces, for the English Government still con- tinued the coercive measures that were so repugnant to the Irish people, and now they had no Grattan in Parliament to plead for Independence. The daring little band of Rebels under the com.mand of IMorven O'Neill, and known as the '' Bold Boys of Wicklow," had as yet evaded discovery. O'Neill was an experienced officer, with a thorough knowledge of military organization and tactics, and he was keeping his small force in reserve. He had no desire rashl}' to risk the lives of his men ; he wished to gain time, and to obtain more recruits for his ranks, also to be more fully prepared before instituting a rising in that part of Wicklow. He was ambitious for the honour of his country, and hoped in time to be able to collect a body of men on whom he could depend, powerful enough to with- stand the attack of the military stationed in the neighbour- hood ; otherwise, he felt that he would be injuring rather than benefiting his country if he thoughtlessly sacrificed the lives of her faithful sons, and so lessened the chances of his beloved Erin becoming an Independent Kingdom with a Monarch of her own, and an ideal *' Home Rule." O'Neill combined the zeal and the courage of the true Patriot, together with the caution and forethought of the ex- perienced officer ; for, though still ver}- young, he had been in the army himself, and had seen some active service. Un- daunted, yet saddened at the news of the failure of the Rebels in other parts of Ireland, he still hoped for better days to come, while such men as Holt and Emmet lived to cheer, and to incite their brave countrymen to Patriotism. 202 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; CHAPTER XVIII. " There were some that wore the green, who did betray the green, On native land we cannot stand through traitors to the green. Yet, whatsoe'er our fate may be, tho' oceans roll between, Her faithful sons will ever sing, ' The wearing of the green.' " Irisli Song. One afternoon, during the Autumn of the year 1798, in a small room in the '* Shamrock," Thaddeus Magin, and his countryman and confederate, Silas Charleston, were seated. They had been conversing together for some time, Magin being desirous of persuading his companion to assist him in one of his very questionable schemes. That he had not succeeded in his purpose was evident from the tone of his voice when he next addressed Charleston, and from the very unpleasant expression of his face. Both men were smoking, and, before each, there stood a large tankard containing some liquor of a potent nature of which the widow Kinahan was careful to keep a large supply, expressly for her American guests ; this lady having a good eye to business, and considering it the best policy, always, so far as it lay in her power, to propitiate the Yankee, Magin, who was known to be anything but a pleasant enemy. Magin was sitting in his usual elegant position, with his feet upon the table, and, after a few minutes' silence, during which time he had been watching his companion furtively, out of the corners of his evil eyes, and with a sinister expression of countenance, he put to him the following question : '' Then yer airn't goin' to undertake this' ere business I hev put in yer way ? " OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 203 Silas Charleston slowly withdrew the pipe from his mouth, took a deep draught of the liquor at his side, and looking steadily at Magin, replied laconically, ''No." '* Then I cal'clate you air a fool ! " w^as Magin's polite and characteristic rejoinder. '* Not such a big one as yoic air, when you think to persuade me to put my head into a hole, unless I knew what was at the other end of it," replied Charleston, as he coolly assumed his former easy attitude, and continued smoking. '' I guess I never knew a more darned ungrateful creatur' than yersilf," said Magin. '' Hevn't I just been puttin' a good thing in yer way, when I could hev done all the business myself, and saved the liberal reward I offered yer. I thought yer were allays pretty slick, wantin' to put money in yer pocket, without troublin' how yer did it, or where it came from." "Wa'al yes! — I reckon that's so," answered the other, quietly. ** I airn't proud, or over particular ni a general way^ " Then, why can't yer consent to do what I want yer now, eh ? " asked Magin, impatiently. '' Because, I don't see what use that thar money would be to me, if I had a bullet through my head half-an-hour after I'd got it." '• A bullet through yer head !" exclaimed Magin, scorn- fully, '• I calc'late that airn't likely, mister." " A tarnation deal more likely than that Id ever get the reward out of yoii when I'd done the deed you want me," was the quiet reply. " Do you think that some of the Boys wouldn't find it out soon enough, and," he added, bending forward over the table, and looking searchingly into Magin's face, *' I'm dashed if it airn't at all unlikely that you w^ould be the first one to tell them." For a moment Silas Charleston paused to watch the effect of his w^ords upon Magin, and it was with grim satis- faction that he witnessed the sudden start, and expression of fear on the face of his companion. " No. no," he continued, " I hev said I airn't proud, nor over partic'lar, but I guess I'll hev nothing to do with the mean, cowardly ^^iXi\^ you want me to play now." 204 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; " Silas Charleston setting up for a moral charackter ! " cried Magin, with an insolent, jeering laugh. " That air a caution ! " '' Wa'al ! I calc'late I hevn't been too scrupulous," agreed Silas, "but when you come to speak of it, I don't know that ayther of us air much of a credit to the * Stars and the Stripes,' (though I heard yer tellin' the boys at the last meetin' what a sacrifice America was makin' when you were allowed to leave the country and come over to fix Ireland for the Irish) but I never went the length you want me to go now, and if you think the business so tarnation easy, an' plain sailin', why don't you do \t yourself ? ^^ he asked, quietly smiling at Magin over the puffs of smoke from his pipe. " Because I thought I'd give yer a benefit, to show my friendship," was Magin's reply. "Thank jvo?/ ! " said Charleston, incredulously. "And then I guess you would manage to complete that same act of friendship, by gettin' me sent to a happier world sooner than natur' intended, so that I'd tell no tales ? " For some moments the two men sat silently regarding each other. There was a marked difference in their appearance. Silas Charleston was by no means unattractive-looking, though the usual pleasant expression of his face was some- times marred by the satirical smile that curled the firm, de- cisive lips. His dark eyes were shrewd, and full of humour, and an easy, good-natured disposition made him a general favourite. He had more than once done good service in skirmishes between the soldiers and the Rebels, for, being a man of undaunted courage, his tall, lithe, slender figure was always to be seen in the thickest of the fight. On this occasion, Magin's face presented a strange con- trast to that of his companion ; it was malevolent in expression and full of fierce and vindictive hatred ; while Silas Charleston appeared calm, cool, and perfectly indifferent to the opinion of the other. " And what hev I asked yer to do now, after all yer darned insinuations ? " demanded Magin, fiercely, growing alarmed at the manner in which Silas had listened to his proposition. The latter withdrew the pipe from his mouth, and laughed contemptuously at the other. OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 20^ " Oh ! don't be skeared," he said, quietly, "/airn't goin' to betray yer." "/ skeared !" cried Magin, indignantly, rising to his feet. '' Did yer think yer could frighten inc ? " '' Wa'al ! since yer ask my opinion, why certainly, 3'er did look uncommon blue an' shaky just now." '' I only asked yer to waylay the gal, Anty Kinahan, and make believe to hev a frolic with her, so as to get the letter she has concealed about her dress," said Magin. '' Frolics with gals is more in your way than 111 hie. You hev tried that before, and I'd hev thought yer had enough of it last time," replied Charleston, quietly. ''And," he continued, '' I guess Anty Kinahan isn't just the sort of gal to ' frolic with ' nayther, an' there's few will beat her lover, Owen Maguire, when he's roused. Anty has done me no harm that I should try to make the gal break her trust and give me that letter. It might get her into trouble." ** Lord ! " exclaimed Magin, sarcastically. "Air yer turnin' preacher now? What is it yer came over from America for, eh ? Wasn't it to get all the pickings yer could out of Ireland, and the Irish ? " "That's so," answered the other, "but honest pickings, so much for every recruit — so much for every dollar I could gain for ' the cause ' — and hevn't I worked hard for all I've got ? Didn't I plead for Ireland as if I'd been born in the land of the harp and the shamrock, and an Irishman from the crown of m.y head to the soles of my feet? And," he added, with a mischievous smile, " didn't the money come pourin' in ? " "Yes;" replied Magin, "an' I guess that a darned lot of it stuck to yer fingers on the way to ' the cause.' " " Why, certainly," said Charleston, coolly. " I calc'late that in the course of circulation the coins air bound to lose weight." " The money bags wouldn't be none tlie heavier after passing through your hands," remarked Magin, insolently. " No, I guess not ! seein' that what goes through my hands has to go through yours as well. But now, Magin, yer hevn't told me why yer want to get that thar letter from Anty Kinahan." 206 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; ** That airn't any business of yours," answered Magin, angrily. '' Shall I tell you ? " asked Silas Charleston, as he again leant over the table, and looked steadfastly at Magin. "Shall I tell yer ? 'Tis because you want to find out the private affairs of our Captain. You want to betray O'Neill! Ay," he continued, as he rose fiom his seat, and going round to Magin. Laying his hand on the back of his chair, he leant over him : '^ You air wearin' the green now ; you hev taken the oath to stand by ^thecausej an' you're takin' payment for your services, yet, at this moment, Thaddeus Magin, I know well you would betray any or all oi 'the Bhoys ' into the hands of the English Government for the sake of the reward, if you could only do it with safety to yourself. But, take heed 1 — take heed ! I guess you wouldn't be the first traitor that fell a victim to his own plot. I mayn't be a particularly good man, but I calc'late I'd draw the line at takin' blood- money, an' provin' false to those who trust me. No," he added, as Magin again rose angrily, and made a threatening gesture, **/ shan't betray you. I hev told you before, treachery airn't in my line, but mark what I tell you now, Thaddeus Magin, I'll watch an' give warnin' when I can — those that air innocent of harm to others — and that hev dealt honestly by us, shall never be caught in any of your infernal rat-traps, while Silas Charleston lives to warn them of their danger." With these words, the young American turned and left the room, while Magin stood contemplating the door through which he had disappeared, with a look of utter consternation on his evil, cunning face. "Wa'al !" he muttered at last, *'if that airn't an' awkard turn in my arrangements. I guess I shan't get any more assistance from Silas Charleston, that's certain ; I guess that's real unfortunate. I wonder if I could persuade one of those cut-throat Greeks to do what I want, or if I could poke any life into the lazy Spanish gentlemen. I must be care- ful though ; it airn't safe to trust others. But now, for the present, the first step for nu is to find out what's in that letter which O'Neill gave to Anastasia Kinahan." Half-an-hour previous to the conversation between Magin OR, LOYAL AND TRUE; 20/ and Silas Charleston, they had both been standing at the open window of the room, and were unseen witnesses of an interview between morven O'Neill and Anty Kinahan, when the former gave the girl a letter, and was evidently most particular in his injunctions to her to keep it safely, to let no one see it, and to deliver it herself into the hands of the person for whom it was intended. This much the two listeners understood from a few words that they chanced to overhear, and they also saw Anty conceal the letter beneath the folds of her neckerchief. Magin's busy brain was always on the alert to find some way of harming, or annoying O'Neill, and being most anxious also to discover anything against him which might make the men under his comm.and mistrust their young Captain, he thought that the letter now entrusted to Anty might possibly contain some information which would assist him in his nefarious designs ; but being an arrant coward he was always anxious to leave to others all the danger that might accrue from his plans, and so thought that he would try to persuade Silas Charleston to assist him. In this instance, however, he had mistaken his man. It is true that Silas was daring and fearless, and he was — as he himself had owned — not overscru- pulous in the matter of amassing a fortune as speedily as possible, and with the least trouble or exertion on his own part, but the man was not all bad, he was a strange mixture of good and evil, and had many of the fine qualities of his warm-hearted, and kindly-natured countrymen ; the cruel envy and vindictiveness that were the leading characteristics of Magin's nature, formed no part of his. Young Charleston, moreover, possessed two items with which the other had never been burdened, namely, a heart and a conscience. He had no dislike to O'Neill ; in him he recognized the leal, true Patriot, and he honoured and admired, though he could not emulate, the man who, utterly forgetful of self, was devoted heart and soul to the interests of his country, willing and ready to live or die in her cause. He also re- spected and liked O'Neill's pretty foreign bride, who had always a few kindly, pleasant words for the very humblest of her husband's followers whenever they crossed her path. There was nothing mean or cowardly in Silas Charleston's 208 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; nature, and he was the last man Magin should have selected to play a treacherous part. After some thought and anxious consideration, Magin at last decided on going in search of Anty Kinahan himself, and trying, if possible, by some means to find out the contents of the letter with which she had been entrusted,but no sooner had he come to this conclusion, than the door opened, and the girl herself appeared. Her cloak was thrown loosely around her, and she was evidently prepared for going out of doors. Magin noticed this, and became the more desperate to get the letter into his hands before she left, if but for a moment, so that he might at all events ascertain to whom O'Neill's letter was addressed. " Misther Magin," said Anty, looking into the room, *' sure I'm goin' a message, an' I'll be out for a shoort thime, an' mother tould me to ax if Misther Charleston or yersilf would be wantin' annythin' moor before I'd be bhack, Oh ! Misther Charleston's gone, I see ! " she added, looking round the room. **Yes, my gal, I guess he has," replied Magin, ''but come here, I want to hev a few words with yen What is it ye're afraid of?" he asivcd, impatiently, as Anty hesitated and still remained standing at the door. *' N-nothing, Misther Magin," she replied. ** Then, why air yer standin' over thar ? Come nearer, I've something to say to yer, very partic'lar." '' Say it quick then, Misther Magin, if ye plase, for 'tis in a hurry I am enthirely," answered Anty, as she very slowly and cautiously advanced farther into the room. "Air yer goin' to meet Owen Maguire ? " he asked. *' Sure, an' what concarn is that to yersilf, Misther Magin ? " she demanded, proudly. '* None that I know of," he replied, carelessly, '' only I guess it's a pity to see such a fine slip of a gal lookin' after a boy like him ; that's all." *' An' what have ye agin Owen Maguire ? " asked Anty, angrily, and in her indignation going closer to Magin. During this brief conversation the Yankee had been thinking, and turning over in his fertile brain, the means by which he could contrive to see the contents of the letter OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 209 which he had seen Anty conceal beneath the folds of her neckerchief. At last he approached nearer to her, and, with a rapid movement, seized hold of the ends of the necker- chief, and gave it a contemptuous pull. " Is that Owen's last gift ? " he asked, scornfully. *' I guess I don't admire his taste." " Troth thin, it's no wan that's axin' 3'e if ye like it or not," said Anty, drawing back proudly, *' An' it w^asn't Owen gave it to mesilf, nayther," she added, unwilling that her lover's good taste should be questioned. *'Now I calc'late / could give yer something worth re- ceiving for a love token," said Magin, attempting to put his arm round her, and again puUing the ends of the kerchief, *'not a piece of trumpery like that.^' As Anty angrily wrenched it out of Magin's hand, and turned away from him, she did not notice that Morven's letter fell at his feet. His quick eyes, however, soon dis- covered it, and, going nearer to the girl on pretence of speaking to her again, he placed his hand on her shoulder, and, at the same time, by a sudden, quick movement, put his foot on the letter, and successfully concealed it from Anty, who indignantly pushing him from her, turned, and ran out of the room. '* Fortune favours the brave ! " said Magin, triumphantly, to himself, as he stooped to pick up the letter. "Ah ! " he exclaimed, *' I guess I hcv found something important this time. Why, here's a letter to the Colonel's daughter, at Glencree Barracks ! Wa'al ! I calc'late I'll soon know the contents. The letter's sealed — that's tarnation provokin' — it don't matter, though," he added, as, with his bowie knife, he dexterously contrived to open it without breaking the seal, and, after a hasty perusal, he gave vent to a pro- longed whistle of surprise. *'5o! — an assignation between our young Captain, and that spry-lookin' daughter of one of our greatest enemies. What's he got to say to hcr^ I wonder? His affection seems pretty considerable — his anxiety to meet the gal still more considerable — that's so, an' no mistake. What would the proud young French madam say to it ? Ah ! " he cried, muttering a furious imprecation, as he paused on hearing the sound of approaching footsteps, *' that's the VOL. I. P 210 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; gal comin' back, Wa'al I I guess I'll lay this letter on the floor agin, over by the window thar, where Miss Anastasia was standing. I can't close it agin, but she'll think it's got broken in the fall." Magin had only just time to do as he had said when Anty returned hastily, her face full of trouble and anxiety, her eyes eagerly scanning the floor. " Hev yer lost anything ? " asked the Yankee, innocently. " Yes," replied Anty, after a moment's hesitation. ** That is — sure I mane — it's nothin' at all, at all, only — only a paper." •'Ah I I guess I hevn't seen it," said Magin, coolly. "Yer must have dropped it somewhere else, my gal." " Ah, here it is I '* exclaimed Anty. joyfully, as she dis- covered the letter on the floor, where ^lagin had placed it. **Here it is I Sure it's all right. Misther Magin. I've found it. " The Yankee had meanwhile pretended to assist Antv in her search, but of course looking in every direction but the right, as he wished her to be the tinder. Anty. with a sigh of relief and satisfaction, once more drew her cloak about her. and was about to leave the room, when she discovered that the letter was open. ** Och I sure how is this now ? It's open the letther is ! " ** Ah ! so it is, " agreed Magin, '* but like enough that's been done with yer carr^'in' it about and then lettin' it fall. Yer should take more care of yer love letters, m}- gal," added the man, -^ith a wicked leer. ** I guess now, if I had found that thar interestin" document, and had been an un- principled party. I could hev opened it an' read it. Oh ! 3er needn't look so skeared, my dear, yer can safeh' trust ;;7f." For a moment Anty seemed inclined to look suspicioush' at Magin, but, on second thoughts, she remembered how short a time she had been out of the room, and also, that when she returned he was not near the spot where she found the letter ; so, without further remark, and not wishing to have more to say than necessar}' to the wih' Yankee, whom she had always disHked and mistrusted, Anty hurriedly left the room, Uttle dreaming how much mischief had been done, and, had she turned and seen the sardonic expression on Magin's face as he looked after her, she would scarcely OR, LOYAL AXD TRUE. 2 1 I have departed on her errand with such an easy mind and a Hght heart. "Yes," muttered Magin, with a diaboHcal laugh, '' I guess I am in luck this time. I know now our Captain's plans for to-morrow night. Ah ! " he exclaimed, suddenly, '' how un- fortunate he didn't say ivJiere, nor the lioiir he was to meet the gal ; only, * You, my dear, faithful Eveleen, will remem- ber the trysting place, and the time I told you in my last letter.' Those were the words he used. There must hev been more letters goin'. What a cussed nuisance I didn't know. But it's to-morrow night he's to meet her. I'll hev .to watch well; O'Neill will be alone. If I can only get warnin' to the military at Glencree Barracks, and to the cavalry detachment at Bray, I guess Captain Morven O'Neill alias Michael Cluny, yer won't escape them this time. I must keep my own name in the dark, and take some other when I claim the reward, for the money for the apprehension of O'Neill is not the only reward / mean to get, and if my name were once known, I calc'late the game would be up, as I'd hev to make tracks out of the country- pretty soon. Then, I airn't goin to lose the chance of gettin' a few more pickins out of ' the cause,' an' of bein' Captain of the ' Bold Boys' for a time when O'Neill's out of the way. Wa'al," he added, in a tone of satisfaction, '' I guess Fate has acted pretty considerably in my favour, an' that proud young French bride of our gallant Captain will be glad enough to be Mis- thress Thaddeus Magin yet, when she's left a lone widdy, especially when I let her know that he was taken through goin' to meet that spry gal, the Colonel's daughter." Fortune was then favouring the evil plots of this man, but Fortune is fickle, and how long she would be constant to Thaddeus Magin is yet to be seen. P — 2 212- SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER CHAPTER XIX. " Lady, dost thou not fear to stray, So lone and lovely through this bleak way ? Are Erin's sons so good or so cold. As not to be tempted by women or gold ? Sir Knight ! I feel not the least alarm. No son of Erin will offer me harm ; For though they love women and golden store, Sir Knight ! they love honour and virtue more." Moore. Morven O'Neill could scarcely have found a more secluded or picturesque spot, even in beautiful Wicklow, than that which he had chosen for the meeting with his cousin, Eveleen Corrie. There was but little traffic in that part, days, even weeks, would often pass when no human foot would tread the rough and lonely path. It was narrow, and had somewhat the appear- nace of a mountain pass. On one side were banks about thirty feet in height, which were thickly wooded from the base to the summit, with trees displaying every variety of Autumn tints in their luxurious foliage. On the other side, the path sloped down to the edge of a small, dark, still- looking lake, on the margin of which rushes, long grass, and bunches of the yellow iris grew in profusion among moss- covered boulders, or rugged pieces of rock. On the oppo- site side of this lake rose two hills of irregular shape, and considerable height, the brows of which approached closely to each other, so forming a narrow, rocky chasm between them. Behind all and towering far above them were several peaks of high mountains, and down the rugged side OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 213 of one of these flowed a mountain stream which, dashing noisily over the rocks on its course, passed through the chasm and fell over into the lake. Over the lowest range of hills there was known to be a near cut to the mountains, and the spot called ''The Rebel's Rest," and also a secret under- ground passage to the large cave in which Morven O'Neill and his followers had found shelter ; but so dangerous was the road, and so difficult of access, so well concealed was the entrance, that this stronghold of the Rebels had never yet been discovered by the Royal troops. Few even of those who knew the spot well would dare venture to reach the mountains by this route. O'Neill, how- ever, had often made use of it, and some of the ''Bold Boys" had also found it a sure refuge on more than one occasion when they were evading the pickets of soldiers who were constantly on the alert. Morven O'Neill was ever careless of his personal safety; he thought not of danger, indeed from his earliest boyhood he had been a stranger to fear, and was therefore thoroughly acquainted with the most dangerous passes and turns in the mountains. If he did not think of his own safety, however, Owen Maguire did so for him ; he watched his master with never- failing fidelity, and would always follow him, having his horse in constant readiness, so that at any moment O'Neill would have the better chance of escape if attacked and pur- sued by his enemies. To avoid notice, Owen was attired generally (when not in the Rebel uniform) in the usual livery of a gentleman's servant, therefore his appearance on the well- tended horse attracted no suspicion, and he was thus enabled to be always at hand to assist O'Neill in any emergency. Very earnest had Owen been in his endeavours to persuade his master not to run the risk of this meeting with Eveleen Corrie, and in such a spot, where, in the event of his being discovered by any of the pickets, there would be but little chance of his escape, the nearest route to the mountains being the dangerous path over the hills before described, but O'Neill could not be induced to give up all idea of the interview with his cousin, so Owen determined, as he said, "to be avin wid his honour, to kape watch, an' to save him in spite av himself." 214 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; Still greater would have been the faithful Owen's con- sternation, had he known that O'Neill actually intended to take Estelle with him on this wild expedition, as he wished to introduce her to Eveleen Corrie, and to acknowledge her as his wife, so that in case of any mischance happening to himself, Estelle would have the protection of his relatives. One reason for the road which Morven had chosen being so little frequented was, that the peasantry believed it was haunted, and with awe-stricken faces, they would repeat to strangers the thrilling tale of a beautiful girl who had drowned herself in the dark lake because she had been for- saken by her lover, and whose spirit had been seen by many long afterwards, floating through the water, until her false lover, finding out how worthless had been the one for whose sake he had deceived her, was, by the force of memory, and the power of the old love, lured to the spot, when, unable to resist the spell cast over him, he leapt into the lake, the waters of which closed over him, and he was seen no more. This tragedy had occurred many years before the date of our story, but ever since it had been said to be unlucky for any- one to look upon the lake at any time, but especially after nightfall. On young lovers it was certain to bring dire mis- fortune. Neither Morven O'Neill nor Eveleen Corrie were at all influenced by the legend, and both were glad that the super- stition of the people regarding the spot was likely to be the means of their meeting being undisturbed. It was a fine night; from time to time a bright moon shone forth from behind the clouds, while thousands of stars sparkled like jewels in the sky, their light being reflected on the waters of the lake ; but, when Morven O'Neill and Estelle first arrived upon the scene, it was dark and strangely weird and lonely, for a passing cloud had entirely eclipsed the moon. Morven wore his Rebel uniform, which was concealed beneath a large military cloak, while Estelle, who still main- tained her disguise of a French soubrette, had simply added a red cloak to her usual attire, the hood of which was drawn over her head, so that to a casual observer she would appear like an Irish peasant girl, and so escape particular notice. OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 215 *'This is the place, Estelle," said Morven, laying his hand caressingly on her shoulder. " Now, my brave little wife, I will help you to climb half way up that bank, where you must remain concealed behind the trees, until I call you ; it will not be for long, I hope." Estelle shuddered when she looked around, and then in sudden terror clung to Morven's arm. "Ah, Morven ! 1 do not like dis place, how dark and silent it is," she exclaimed, shivering, "dark and cold ! Why is it dat you did choose such lonely place to meet dis lady, my Morven ? " " Because it is dark, and silent, and lonely, Estelle. There is the less chance of any interruption here. But see ! the moon is appearing from behind yonder clouds, it will be light enough soon, dear one." "But, Morven, tell to me now — dis lady dat you are to meet — who is she ?" asked Estelle, with considerable anxiety, and a decided tone of jealousy in her voice, which, strive as she would, she could not hide from Morven. " Can you not trust me, Estelle ? " queried Morven, re- proachfully. " Ah, yes ! only — only " — she commenced, hesitatingly. " Only you would feel happier if you knew ; is that it? " asked Morven, coldly. "Well, Estelle, she is my cousin, Eveleen Corrie." " De same lady dat has often written to you, and de one to whom you did write but yesterday ? " persisted Estelle. "Yes," answered Morven, with some impatience in his tones. " Now are you content ? " "Ah ! but if she should love you, my Morven ? She does not know dat you are already married," she continued, anxiously, " and how is it dat any woman could help loving yon ? And 3'ou might grow to love her in time." " Are you beginning to doubt me, Estelle ? " he demanded, sternly. " No, no ! " she cried, " but dese secret meetings, Morven v.ion ami, I do not love dem, it is dat dey are so romantic and " " Estelle I " interrupted O'Neill, indignantly. "This is an insult to me that no man would have dared to offer with 2l6 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; impunity. Our race have ever been true in love, or in war. Eveleen Corrie is my own cousin, we were brought up to- gether, and love each other like brother and sister. Long, long may that affection last ! " he added, earnestly, '^ for. Heaven knows, I have few enough true friends in the world." " Oh, Morven I " said Estelle, sorrowfully. " Is it dat I have offended you, iJio7t mafi ? Ah ! den it is dat I am indeed desolate. I am always some stupid blunder making. How could I doubt you, when I do love you so truly ? " '^ Estelle, do you know the heart of the man you have sworn to love and honour, into whose keeping you have given your life's happiness, so little, as to doubt his truth on the first occasion that he has to speak to another woman ? " asked Morven, gravel^^ *' It is not dat, Morven ; but I cannot help feeling dat dere could be no sorrow, no misery, so great, as de loss of your love. I could not live widout it now. Ah ! inon ami, mon mari\ " she cried, tenderly, her hands clasped around Morven's arm, her eyes overflowing with tears. '' For me, I should droop, I should die, like de flowers, for want of de light dat does make de sunshine of my life." " Be content, Estelle, dear love," replied Morven, with emotion. '' As long as I live you shall never want that light in vain. And even in death, when the heart that beats so fondly now for you, and you alone, is cold and still for ever in this world ; oh ! m}^ darling, then remember that true love never dies, but only sleeps to awake again in Eternity ; where it will burn for ever with a still purer, holier flame^ and where our hearts shall know no more the agony of parting, pain, and sorrow." " It is true, my Morven," said Estelle, mournfully, '' but dat does not lessen de anguish of de broken heart, left to mourn alone in dis cold world, when de one dat did beat re- sponsive to its every throb is gone for ever." " I have been making you sad, my little Estelle," said O'Neill, tenderly, " and we can be so seldom together now, that we must not mar the happiness of our meeting. There are tears in your eyes ; come, dear one ! a patriot's wife must not weep, but be ever brave and hopeful. I have brought you here to-night, dear love, to tell my cousin Eveleen of our OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 21/ marriage, to introduce you to her, and to secure her friend- ship, and my uncle's protection for you, should it ever be necessary. It was for this purpose I entreated her to meet me here, and she, dear faithful girl, consented to do so, though there may be both dangers and difficulties in her way." "Ah, clicr aiui\ who could refuse yoii^'' said Estelle, lovingly. ''But see!" she added, suddenly, '*dere is someone coming now ! Is it your belle coitsinc, Morven ? " " I think it is, Estelle," replied Morven, looking in the direction she had indicated. '' I can scared}^ tell, however, until she comes nearer ; it is some time since I have seen Eveleen. Now come, dear one," he added, '' I want you to conceal 3'ourself among those trees, until I have explained all to my cousin. You will be unseen there, too, by an3^one who may chance to pass during our interview. I will call you soon." Having assisted the half-frightened, timid Estelle to climb the bank, and seen that she was well-sheltered, and hidden by the dense foliage of the trees, he turned to meet the figure now approaching, whom he found, as Estelle had thought, to be his cousin, Eveleen Corrie. Eveleen greatly resembled O'Neill in her character and disposition, as well as in appearance, and, therefore, though there were man}' difficulties in her way when she was planning how she could contrive to grant Morven's request for this secret meeting, yet she surmounted them all. She was afraid for the safety of her cousin, but it never for a moment entered into her thoughts to feel any fear for her- self, though the road was long and lonely, the times troublous, and the neighbourhood surrounded by wild, law- less men. Slowl}^ and fearlessty she came along, and very beautiful appeared the Colonel's fair daughter beneath the light of the moon, her graceful form shown to advantage in her tight- fitting dress of purple velvet, the only attempt at ornament being a simple neckerchief of white muslin and lace, with folds of the same on the elbow sleeves. Over all she wore a cloak of purple velvet, lined with satin, and confined at the throat with a jewelled buckle. 215 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; The night being sultry, she had thrown back the ends of the cloak over her shoulders, from whence it hung in rich, soft folds nearly to her feet. Her pale, calm, noble-looking face was shaded, but not hidden, by a large beaver hat and long drooping ostrich plume. It was with a look of surprise and sincere admiration that O'Neill regarded his cousin, as he hastened forward to meet her with outstretched hands. As he had told Estelle, a long time had elapsed since he had last seen Eveleen, she was then Httle more than a child, and although pretty and refined-looking, yet she gave no pro- mise of the rare beauty she now possessed, and to which was added a peculiar, subtle charm, and grace of mianner, that never failed to fascinate those with whom she came in contact. " Eveleen ! dear cousin ! " said Morven, as he pressed her hands in his, affectionately. ** It is indeed kind and generous of you to have yielded to my request. In truth I hardly dared to hope that you would venture to come to meet me here, and alone." " Oh, Morven ! how could I refuse ? " she asked, tenderly. *' You must deem me cold-hearted indeed, if you think that it gives me no pleasure to see you again, who were ever dear 10 me as a brother. But oh ! my cousin," she continued, sadly, " why have we to meet thus in secret, frightened for every step we may hear, in terror for every sound that dis- turbs the stillness of the night." "You are changed, Eveleen!" said Morven, reproach- fully. " There was a time when my cousin Eveleen knew not what it was to fear." '' Nor do I now, Morven ! " she answered, " it is for you I fear, not for myself. Think how near you are to the barracks, there are even now pickets of our men out in all directions." "They will not come here," said O'Neill, confidently, ^* they will keep to the main road which runs below." '' I have but a short time to stay with you, Morven," con- tinued Eveleen. " I may be missed at home, any moment ; but I could not help risking all to come to you to-night, in the hope that what I am now going to say, may influence you." OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 219 "Stay, Eveleen, ! " replied O'Neill, determinedly. ''If it is aught concerning the ^ great cause ' you would speak, I may tell you at once that it is useless. I have heard every argument that could be used by great and noble men of both sides, for and against the movement ; and the more I hear, the more deeply rooted are my convictions that we are in the right." "Oh, Morven 1 " said Eveleen, sadly, "have you no thought or memory for the happy past ? Have you never any wish to leave the wild life you are now living and to come home to us again ? Dear cousin ! " she con- tinued, earnestly, laying her hand on his arm, "you have the undaunted courage of the noble race to which you belong, the blood of Ireland's Kings flows in your veins ; you have a true and steadfast heart, and above all — nay, I should rather say ivorst of all in your case, you have the genuine enthusiasm and the eloquence that together make you a dangerous advocate, for your words sink deeply into the hearts of those whom you wish to influence. Oh, Morven ! why will you use all these gifts in a wrong cause ? " " Eveleen," at last answered O'Neill, after a few moments' silence, during which he had been gazing wistfully and dreamily over the distant hills, as if to gain from them the inspiration he wished, to enable him to impress his cousin with the enthusiasm of which she had just spoken, " Eveleen, I used to be ambitious for myself in the old days, but that feeling is merged in one far deeper and nobler now, that of love and ambition for my country. Do you, an Irish girl, dare to tell me that it is wrong to cherish such a feeling. No, no, Eveleen, you should rather long and hope for the day when Erin will be free, and an Independent Kingdom. And why should it not be so ? Why should we not have a King and rulers of our own, who are real true-born Irish- fnen ? Why should our beloved Ireland be governed by those of an alien country — a people who openly express their hatred of us, who know not our ways nor our hearts, and who do not seek to know them ? Eveleen ! " he con- tinued, passionately, " I tell you that England looks upon Ireland, and upon the Irish, only in the light of a country and a people who may in the future be utilized to her 220 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; own advantage ; but I say that this sJiall not continue. We must accomphsh the glorious end we have in view, as long as one Patriot lives to urge and to encourage our country- men to stand firmly by each other, true to the ties of brotherhood that bind them. Oh, Eveleen ! " he added, enthusiastically, ''when I think of this, how mean, how pett}^, seem all my former thoughts and aspirations, and I feel that glor}^, or a Patriot's death awaits me." " Ah, Morven ! " replied Eveleen, mournfully, and with a sad, deep sigh, '* forget not the other alternatives — Exile — or, a traitor's doom.''' *' Indeed, it fills my heart with sorrow to hear you speak thus, Eveleen," said O'Neill. ** you, who ought to use every effort to gain more adherents to our noble cause." '' But, Morven, there are times when I wonder whether there may not be faults and mistakes on both sides," returned Eveleen, doubtfully. " The struggle will be terrible, and I fear much that it will end in utter failure ; and then the people ! how will 3^ou ever make up to them for the bitter disap- pointment, after having raised their hopes so high and afterwards brought upon them all the horrors and miseries of a civil war? and, Morven," she added, earnestly, "if Ireland zvcre an Independent Kingdom, could we hold it for long as such ? Should wx be able to support an Army and a Navy powerful enough to protect our shores from foreign enemies ? Dear cousin, believe me, I am no more indifferent to the sorrows and misfortunes of our country than you are, only, it seems to me, that in the warmth of 3^our enthusiasm and patriotism, you may forget, or over- look, many little points that may be remembered by those who in cooler, calmer judgment may consider the case, and yet be as anxious as yourself for the welfare of Ireland." ** Eveleen, you are thinking now of my uncle and your lover, Armoric Annesley. Well ! I suppose tliey are bound to uphold the present Government, as they hold the King's commission and are serving with the Royal troops. You naturally derive your opinions from those with whom you come most in contact, but ah, cousin mine ! " he added, " I fear j^^o//r patriotism is but half-hearted, after all." Poor Eveleen ! But a few weeks ago she had been told OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 221 that she was '* more than half a Rebel " — now her patriot- ism was doubted, or, at least, undervalued. In truth, her opinion had of late been much tossed upon the waves of controversy ; and, besides, woman-like, she was anxious to see with her lover's eyes and to think as he thought on political as well as private matters. More than once lately the practical, common-sense view of the Irish question had been forcibly brought before her ; she had been able to see and to acknowledge the force of it, but still the patriotic side, with all its pathos and poetry, was undoubtedly the most attractive to her enthusiastic and romantic nature. At this moment, however, she felt somewhat indignant at O'Neill's expressions with regard to Colonel Corrie and Annesley, and it was therefore with heightened colour, and an ad- ditional light in her eyes that she again spoke to her cousin. " I do not think," she said, coldly, " that either my father or Captain Annesley could ever be charged with indifference to anything concerning Ireland and her interests ; but pro- bably their way of seeking redress for the wrongs of our country would not be yoxir way, Morven, and — " " We will speak no more of this, Eveleen ! " interrupted O'Neill, hastily, " I have much to say to you yet, and we are wasting the precious moments in useless controversy. Tell me of yourself, dear cousin, and of all that has passed at home since 1 left for France." Eveleen was about to reply to Morven when she was startled by the sound of a distant clock striking the hour. " Oh, Morven ! what shall I do ? " she exclaimed, '' I have been absent too long. That is the clock at Glencree Barracks striking nine. I must leave you now." '* One moment, Eveleen ! " cried O'Neill, anxiously, " I have something to tell you." The striking of the clock was followed immediately by the sound of drums and fifes, then Eveleen was indeed in despair for she knew that the evening tattoo had commenced, and never before had the lively tones of the old Irish melody known as " The Dandy O," been heard by her with anything but pleasure. " Ah ! there is the tattoo ! " she cried. '' I should have been home long before, but I must wait now until that is over, 222 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; and all is quiet once more. And now, Morven, what had you to tell me ? " "Eveleen!" began O'Neill, earnestly, and taking both her hands in his, " there is a favour I would ask of you." ''What is it, Morven?" ''When I was in France," he commenced, but paused suddenly, with a startled glance over Eveleen's shoulder, at the same time laying his hand on his sword, drawing his cloak more closely around him, and pulling his hat lower over his eyes. A tall figure in the uniform of an officer of the Marines was advancing slowly towards them ; and thus was the important information concerning Estelle, which O'Neill had risked so much to impart, still untold, and so the mystery and secresy remained to cause sorrow, mistrust and misery to at least two of the three now so strangely met together. OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 223 CHAPTER XX. " On she went, and her maiden smile In safety Hghted her round the green isle ; And blest for ever is she who relied Upon Erin's honour and Erin's pride." Moore. It was with great anxiety, and a very troubled mind, that Mrs. Corrie had watched the preparations, and the departure of her daughter for her moonhght interview with O'Neill. They had not dared to take anyone else into their confidence, feeling that if once the secret left their own keeping, they could not tell how it might be betrayed, either unconsciously or intentionally, and O'Neill's safety, and Eveleen's fair name thus endangered. It was almost impossible, at that time, to be certain whom to trust, and to know who really favoured, or who might be against the Rebel cause ; for privatefeelings and opinions had often to be shrouded in secresy. Mrs. Corrie and Eveleen, though both averse to any under- hand dealing or deception, had been obliged, after much thought, and many anxious consultations, to decide on keep- ing the secret from Colonel Corrie, for they knew well the sorrow it would cause him to hear that the nephew, to whom he was so much attached, and in whom he had ever felt such pride, had now joined the Insurgents, and that he ran the danger of being betrayed and captured any day, by some of the parties of the Colonel's own men who patrolled the roads constantly. Eveleen had still entertained the hope that, if she could only see her cousin, she might be able to persuade him to leave the Rebels, ere it was too late to save himself being 224 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; branded with the charge of treason and disloyalty ; and her father, a true and loyal soldier, brought face to face with this notorious Rebel, to find in him his much-loved nephew. Well she knew that the fate which would then await him would be far more terrible than that of any other traitor, for he had been an officer holding the King's commission. It was true that he had many, and good excuses for his disaffection from the army, but these would find no weight with the English Government. All things being carefully considered, there appeared no other course than that Eveleen should go alone to meet her cousin, biit she had a stout heart and a fearless spirit, she was well known in the neighbourhood, and much liked and respected by all, she felt certain that there w^as not one in all Wicklow who would seek to harm her. In his letter to Eveleen, O'Neill had told her that he had important information to communicate to her, but, that owing to the nature of it, he dare not trust a messenger with a letter on such a subject, for in the event of its being intercepted it would betra}^ at once the fact that the Rebel chief known as ^^ Michael Cluny^' was Colonel Corrie's nephew. There was one, however, whom Eveleen found herself compelled, at the last moment, to take into her confidence, and that was Shilrick O'Toole ; but he, even he, had no idea whom she was going to meet, or what her destination might be. In his own mind he fancied it was to enjoy a quiet moonlight walk with her lover, Captain Annesley, and the boy, whose sharp eyes had of late noticed the cold- ness existing between the two for whom he had so much liking and respect, was delighted to think that probably at the ''witching hour," the lover's quarrel would be "made up enthirely," his boyish mind being in no way troubled with thoughts of the impropriety of such an unconventional pro- ceeding as the said moonlight walk, for, in the drummer's estimation, his captain could do no wrong. To have gone out of barracks alone, and at such an hour, by the main entrance, without attracting the notice of the guard, would have been impossible, and Eveleen would most probably have encountered some of the officers, if not Colonel Corrie himself. There was, however, a small private door not far from the back entrance to the Colonel's quar- 225 ters, leading out into a lonely road ; it was seldom used, but always kept open during the day, until after the evening tattoo, when it was barred on the inside, for the night, by the Colonel's orderly. Not knowing how long she might be detained, and con- sidering it necessary that she should prepare for every remote chance that might occur, Eveleen could think of no other way than to take some one into her confidence, who would watch the little door, and unbar it for her, should she not arrive until after the tattoo was over. To confide in the orderly was out of the question, while Finch, the Colonel's servant, though faithful enough, was decidedly given to gossip ; but Shilrick the Drummer was a highly-privileged character in the barracks, and was also, as Eveleen knew well, to be thoroughly trusted in any emergency. She had accordingly arranged for the drummer to watch for her return, and if she did not appear before tattoo, he was to allow the orderly to bar the small door as usual, and then, secretly, to open it for her again, Eveleen promising to secure it, and to make all safe directly she returned. Weeks, months had passed, and no one had gone near that private door after the orderly had barred it for the night. Surely, thought Eveleen and Shilrick, no one would discover that it had been unbolted on that particular night. Eveleen had thought seriously of taking her faithful little Nap with her, for company, on the lonely road she had to travel ; but fears for his safety, and the thought that while she was speaking to her cousin, he might wander away and get lost, decided her not to do so, and thus Nap, to his great distress, was left behind, to be the first to give her a loving welcome on her return home ; but he well-nigh be- trayed the absence of his mistress, to Colonel Corrie, who understood that Eveleen, not feeling well, had retired early that evening, and, therefore, asked no questions when he did not see her, but he could not account for the behaviour of Nap. The faithful little creature would not move from the window, where, mounted on a chair, he sat watching for Eveleen's return, occasionally indulging in a mournful whine. VOL. I, Q 226 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; Appalled, indeed, would have been the Colonel had he known what had become of his daughter, and that she was, even then, standing in a lonely spot, far from home, with the notorious young Rebel Chief, ^^ Michael Cluny^' for her companion ; for, true to her promise to O'Neill, Eveleen had set out on her moonlight ex- pedition, remembering the advice in the old Scottish pro- verb to ^^Piit a stoot hairt till a stey brae^' and, as we have seen, had safely reached the trysting place. Mrs. Corrie's anxiety seemed to grow more intense with each passing hour, she could neither settle to her tapestry frame, nor could she read. Twenty times had she taken up her book, and tried to fix her attention upon it, but the effort was useless ; at length her nervous forebodings and fears became so great that she could do nothing but stare out of the window in company with Nap, or pace up and down the room, to the utter astonishment of the Colonel, who had never before seen his stately wife in such excitement. He was about to inquire the cause of her distress, when he heard a knock at the outer door, followed by the entrance of Finch, who handed him a very ragged, dirty scrap of paper. Colonel Corrie had some difficulty in deciphering the words, which were written thereon in a very illegible hand ; but, at last, he found it contained the information that '•^Michael Cluny'' would be found at a certain spot at that very time, and also that he would be alone. The informer — the paper stated — would claim the reward when the Rebel Chief was either killed, or in the hands of the military, but for the present desired to keep in the background. The Colonel threw down the paper indignantly, when he had read it. *' Miserable wretch ! " he exclaimed, ** to betray one man thus when he is alone, and defenceless. I wish I had the mean villain here," he continued. " I v/as anxious to secure the Rebel Chief, for I believe until he is captured, the Rebellion in this part of Wicklow will continue; he has unbounded influence with the people, and his men are well armed and drilled ; — but — oh ! would that this letter had never been sent to mc ! It is horrible to think of a brave man being thus trapped and surrounded when he is unpre- '0 OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 22/ pared for danger, it is not fair warfare, it is taking a mean, cowardly advantage of a foe. But enough of this ! " he added, impatiently. ** Am I also catching the infection of the treason and disloyalty that seem to be in the very air we breathe. Here, Finch ! " he called, *' take this scoundrel's letter to the adjutant, say that I will be with him imme- diately, and that he must give orders for the sounding of the assembly." *' Very good, sir ! " replied the servant, as he hastily de- parted on his errand, intent on a voyage of discovery, and with a determination to *' institoot inquiries " about the mat- ter on his own account. In the course of his careful investigations, he found that a ragged boy had handed the paper to the Sergeant of the Guard, and then vanished out of sight so quickly that, as the sentry informed Finch, he seemed to disappear into the earth. For a few moments after Finch had left the room, Mrs. Corrie stood gazing at her husband, with an expression of horror on her face. "What — what did you say that letter was about, Clinton ? " she gasped. "The letter ! " cried the Colonel, angrily. " Oh, don't ask me about it ! If I only had the villain — the mean informer — here this minute, who has given us this cowardly duty to perform, I — why, sure, I believe I should strangle him ! Voor Michael Cluny ! ^^ he added, sorrowfully, "to be taken prisoner in such a manner, after his brave career." " Michael Cliinyl — Michael Chmy ! " repeated Mrs. Corrie, faintly. " Oh, Clinton, stop the men — countermand your order for the sounding of the assembly. Oh, you know not what you are doing ! " "Impossible!" replied the Colonel, "my duty compels me to attend to this confounded letter. Oh, the scoundrel ! " he cried, passionately clenching his hand as he left the room, " if I only had him up before me now 1 " "Oh, Morven, Morven ! " cried Mrs. Corrie, despair- ingly, "poor misguided boy! The trouble has indeed fallen upon us at last. Ere a few short hours have passed the secret that we have guarded so faithfully will be known to your uncle, to every officer and man in your old corps, by Q— 2 228 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER; whom you were once so beloved and respected. And Eveleen," she continued, anxiously, " ah ! what of hei'. Oh, my child ! my child ! what w^ill they say of you ? Oh I why did I let you go to-night ? " she sobbed, as, with her face buried in her hands, she wept bitter, sorrowful tears. Poor little Nap tried hard to express his sympathy, but, finding all his efforts were in vain, he returned sadly to his post at the window where he again '' mounted guard " to wait for Eveleen's appearance. Finch had returned to the quarters well satisfied with what he had heard, and was graciously imparting the information to a delighted audience in the kitchen ; but neither he, nor the Sergeant of the Guard knew that the ragged urchin who had brought the letter, and then disappeared so suddenly, had been waylaid, and seized by the collar, when a short distance from the barracks, and silently dragged by a strong, masterful hand to a dark, secluded spot, when a low voice, with a decided Yankee tone, demanded : " What darned mischief he'd been up to with the red- coats ? " 229 CHAPTER XXI. " I am bound by the old promise ; What can break that golden chain ? Not even the words that you have spoken, Nor the sharpness of my pain. Do you think because you fail me, And draw back your hand to-day. That from out the heart I gave you, My strong love can fade away ? " Adelaide Procter. We must now return to the scene of the interview between Eveleen Corrie and O'Neill, which was so inopportunely interrupted by the unexpected appearance of the young officer then approaching them. Captain Annesley — for he was the intruder — had left barracks some time before the anonymous letter, concerning Michael Cluny, had reached Colonel Corrie, and so he was unaware of the occurrence there, and the sudden order for the party of Marines to proceed to the spot where the Rebel Chief was supposed to be found. Much disturbed in his own mind, and sad at heart with regard to Eveleen, he deter- mined on taking a long and solitary ramble, so that he might think over matters, and decide whether he, or Eveleen, was most to blame for the existing coldness between them. He began, after careful consideration, to think that possibly he might have judged her hastily, and suspected her wrongfully. At last he even came to the magnanimous conclusion that the misunderstanding which had arisen had been caused by faults on both sides, and that it must come 230 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; to an end as speedily as possible, or that the happiness of their future lives would inevitably be wrecked ; but as each possessed more than an ordinary share of pride, the question was — which must give way ? Annesley decided that whatever was done, whatever steps might be taken towards reconciliation, must be strictly con- sistent with the maintaining of his own pride and dignity. Being thus intent on his very serious meditations he came upon Eveleen and O'Neill suddenly, and was quite as much startled on seeing thEm as they were at his appearance on the scene. Annesley, thinking at first that they were only a pair of harmless lovers enjoying their evening tryst, was, after a passing glance, about to pass on, when the sudden start, and quick movement of O'Neill, together with the fancy that the figure of his companion was somewhat familiar to him, caused him to pause on his way, and to regard the couple more attentively. The moon was at this moment hidden behind a dark cloud, but, even in that dim, uncertain light, Morven O'Neill had at once seen and recognised his former friend and comrade Armoric Annesley ; and in an instant it flashed through his mind the disastrous consequences that would inevitably follow Annesley's recognition of himself and his cousin, and the in- dignation of the young officer at finding his betrothed alone with him, and so far from home at such an hour. '* Eveleen ! " whispered O'Neill, *' see ! we are no longer alone." ** Ah ! " she exclaimed, despairingly, ** we are lost ! It — it is Armoric ! — Captain Annesley ! " " For your sake, dear cousin," said O'Neill, in a low voice, " I must tell him who I am, it will be best." " No, no," cried Eveleen, hurriedly and in the same low tones. "Anything rather than that, Morven. My father would hear then — and — " Eveleen was here interrupted by Annesley, who now ap- proached nearer to them and started when he recognized her, but Morven being in the shadow, and his face well concealed beneath his hat, Annesley failed to identify him ; he had no idea either, that his old comrade was in, or near, OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 23 1 Wicklow, he thought of him as far away in France ; the daring young Captain of the " Bold Boys " being known to the mihtary by the name of ^^Michacl Cliinyy As Annesley came slowly forward to Eveleen and O'Neill, he bowed haughtily to the former, but merely gave a glance of utter contempt at the latter. "Eveleen! Miss Corrie!!" he commenced, sarcastically, *'pray pardon me, for thus interrupting such a very in- teresting interview. This is a curious time and place to see you^ and with a stranger for your companion." " I am no stranger, sir ! " interrupted O'Neill, proudly, " and Miss Corrie is under my protection at present." '* Indeed I " replied Annesley, smiling contemptuously at the other. "Who is this man, I wonder ?" he muttered to himself. *' His voice seems strangely famihar to me." Then turning once more to Eveleen, he said, coldly. " I should have imagined that the most fitting place for Miss Corrie to meet her friends was in her own father's quarters." " Sir I by what right do you dare to interfere with this lady ? " asked O'Neill, angrily. " By a right which I do not choose to explain to you, but which I shall certainly now resign for ever," replied Annesley, sternly. "ArmoricI Oh, Armoric!" pleaded Eveleen, earnestly, turning to him, with outstretched hands, her soft hazel eyes raised to his entreatingly, "you will trust me, dear? " " For your sake, Eveleen, I must tell this officer who I am," said O'Neill. " No, no," pleaded Eveleen, anxiously. " Nay, Eveleen I I ;////6/ speak," he replied, determinedly ; then turning to Annesle}^, he commenced his explanation. " My real name, sir, is — " "Ah no! you shall not speak," cried Eveleen, despair- ingly ; then drawing O'Neill aside for a moment, she spoke in a low voice, rapidly and entreatingly, to him, " Morven, Captain Annesley will tell my father, and he will then know that you have joined the Rebels. Oh ! spare him this sorrow, I pray you." " You need not tell me, sir," said Annesley, coldly, to 232 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; O'Neill. " I saw just now, beneath your cloak, the white silk scarf, and the rebel uniform, and from your manner and general appearance I know that you are none other than the Rebel Chief, the Captain of the * Bold Boys,' known by the name of ' Michael Cliiny^ the man for whom we have been searching so long." During this interview no one has noticed poor Estelle, she now bends forward, from behind the trees, that she may the better hear the conversation ; her face pale as death, her hands clasped in horror at the revelation she has just heard, for Estelle had, until now, been unaware that the Michael Clituy, for the apprehension of whom such a high reward had been offered, was no less a person than her own husband. She now stood on the bank listening to, and watching, the group beneath her, her eyes dilated with terror. Eveleen Corrie's anxiety and fear may be better imagined than described, on hearing Annesley's w^ords, and knowing that at least he knew her cousin was the notorious Rebel Chief, though he was unaware as yet of the identity of Michael Cliiny with Morven O'Neill. Once more in her despair she turned to Annesley. " You will not — oh, promise me that you will not betray him ? " she pleaded, her hands clasped around his arm, and an expression upon her lovely face that in any other circum- stances Annesley would have found it hard to resist. '' Armoric ! you will be merciful — you will not betray him ? " she pleaded once more. For a moment Annesley made no reply, but stood gaz- ing wonderingly at O'Neill. '^ I am sure that I have met this man before," he mur- mured, thoughtfully, to himself. "If he would but raise his hat for an instant that I might see his face." Then aloud, and turning to Eveleen, he said, haughtily : "So — Miss Eveleen Corrie ! 3^our protector is but little better than a Captain of Banditti." " Sir, you shall answer for this ! " cried O'Neill, indig- nantly, at the same time unsheathing his sword. ''You may sheath your sword again, young gentleman," said Annesley, haughtily, '' I do not fight duels with those of whom I know nothing." OR, LOYAL AND TRUE, 233 ** Oh ! if that is all, I can soon satisfy you on that point," replied O'Neill, proudly. ''I am of as noble a family as yourself, perhaps more so. See — here is my proof," he added, going forward to show his ring to Annesley. " Yoti know this well ! " Eveleen, however, was too quick for him, and standing in front of her cousin, gently pushed his hand aside, before Annesley could see the ring of the O'Neills. " No, no — I beg of you to keep your name secret," she entreated, earnestly. "As you will then, Eveleen," replied O'Neill, "only remember, that whatever trouble and sorrow may come to you, in the future, through this secresy, I would have saved you at any cost." Then turning to Annesley, he continued, courteously, " I know, sir, that 1 cannot attribute your hesitation to cow^ardice, for such an epithet cannot be coupled with the name of one of the bravest officers in His Majesty's service. Are you readv, sir ? he asked, approaching Annes- ley, with drawn sword. " Oh, stop ! I implore you both ! " cried Eveleen, standing between them. " Stand aside, Eveleen ! " commanded O'Neill, deter- minedly, and leading her away to some distance. " We must settle this little difference ere we part." "The fellow is strangely familiar," thought Annesley. " How dares he to speak thus to her ? Who can he be ? " " Now, sir, will you apologise for what you have just said ? " asked O'Neill, haughtily. " Certainly not ! " replied Annesley, his dark eyes ablaze with anger, " I never apologise. I rather irpeat that your adherents are but little better than banditti ; the most of them are men who will not work, and have joined the 'great r<7^/st'/ as you call it, as an excuse for the idleness by day, and the plunder by night." " Do you dair to say this of my brave Boys ? " demanded O'Neill, as he grasped his sword, passionately. " I insist, sir, that you unsay those false words, or that we settle the question as gentlemen should, unless, indeed, you fear me, though that I am very unwilling to believe." 234 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; " / fear you, or any mortal man ? " gasped Annesley, in his fierce passion, which was now fairly roused. "Enough ! enough ! Let it be as you please! " Annesley and O'Neill crossed swords, and the fight com- menced in good earnest. Eveleen sprang forward, but before she could reach them, Estelle, who from her place of concealment, had been a wit- ness of the whole scene, ran forward, and, with a cry of terror, threw herself before O'Neill. *' Oh, mon ami ! mon ami ! " she cried, frantically. In the confusion that followed, she was unfortunately wounded by Annesley, and fell at O'Neill's feet. He hastily threw aside his sword, and knelt down beside her, his face pale and stern with grief and anxiety. '* Oh ! what have I done ? " cried Annesley, in the greatest distress, at the same time stooping over the prostrate form of the fair French girl, and gently taking her hand in his„ '* Poor girl ! is she much hurt ? " he asked anxiously of O'Neill, who was supporting Estelle in his arms. '' Stand back, sir ! ' commanded O'Neill, indignantly, putting Annesle}^ aside. '^ It is you who have done this. Oh my love, my darling ! speak to me, Estelle ! Ah, dearest ! why did you thus imperil your life for one so worthless as I am ? " he cried, mournfully, as he buried his face in his hands. ''What will all the troubles and disappointments of my life have been to me compared with this great sorrow, if I lose you, my faithful love ? " After the first surprise at the sudden appearance of Estelle, both Eveleen and Annesley stood regarding her with silent wonderment. *' Who can she be ? " thought Annesley, then looking across at Eveleen, he murmured half-contemptuously to him- self, *' So Miss Corrie has a rival she little expected. Some French girl her gay Rebel Chief has met with during his wanderings, no doubt." Eveleen's mind was as busy as Annesley's, wondering who Estelle was, and where she had come from. In the sudden rush forward, Estelle's cloak had fallen off, and her long fair hair fell around her like a veil. Eveleen was fairly puzzled; she saw at a glance that the w^ounded girl wore OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 2^,$ the smart dress of a French soiibreUe, though she had, wrapped about her form, the red cloak usually worn by the Irish peasantry. *'Can nothing be done ? " she asked at last, as she knelt beside Estelle, and with gentle hands put aside the hair from her forehead. '' Poor girl ! how beautiful she is. She looks like a lady — yet she wears the dress of a peasant. Who can she be ? What is her connection with my cousin Morven ? " were the thoughts that passed rapidly through Eveleen's mind. '' Ah ! " cried O'Neill, joyfully, after he had forced a few drops of some spirit he had with him in a small flask, between the pale lips of Estelle. '' See ! she is living — she breathes — oh, my darling ! Thank Heaven for this ! " ** Oh, Armoric ! " asked Eveleen, looking up at Annesley, who was standing beside her, *' what can we do for her ? " '' I will go for assistance," he replied, kindly, " or, stay ! There is a shanty not very far off, we could take her there. It would scarcely be prudent," he added, sarcastically, and glancing over at O'Neill, '' for this gcjitlcjuait, your friend^ to run the risk of being seen, and probably recognised." ^' I thank you, Captain Annesley," said O'Neill, coldly, ^' but your plan cannot be carried out. I see that this lady has only fainted, and that the wound is but a slight one on the arm." ^^ Then I regret that I cannot offer any further sugges- tions," answered Annesley. " The fellow evidently knows me," he said, to himself, " and I remember his voice so well ; wJio can he be 7^'' ^^ She must come home with me ! " said Eveleen, decidedly. ^•Impossible !" exclaimed Annesley, indignantly. ''What do you know of her. Miss Corrie ? " ^'Miss Corrie need not be afraid of having so generously offered shelter to one who has more right than any other, after herself, to claim the protection of Colonel Corrie," was O'Neill's proud answer. " Let me hold her a moment," said Eveleen, as, gently taking the young French girl from O'Neill's arms, she com- menced to bind her handkerchief around Estelle's arm. " Indeed ? " replied Annesley, to O'Neill's last words. " I 236 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; think you will find that Colonel Corrie is not the man to shelter or protect Rebels, or any one connected with them." " Rebels ! " exclaimed O'Neill, angrily, rising to his feet. " Is that a name for the brave Boys and true, who would sac- rifice all that men hold most dear in life, for the sake of their beloved country ? This is the second insult you have offered to me, sir, and in addition, I have now another debt to pay," he continued, pointing to Estelle. " I demand satis- faction, sir ! And I do not leave this spot until I receive it at your hands." *' As you will, then," replied Annesley, haughtily. Once more the two antagonists, who had once been dear friends and comrades, crossed swords, and the interrupted duel was re-commenced with more fierce determination on both sides than before, for the hot Irish blood of Annesley and the proud O'Neill was now fairly roused. Eveleen, gently laying Estelle on the ground, rose hastily, and rushing in between the combatants, suddenly seized Annesley 's sword and hurled it away to some distance ; then, as if struck with sudden remorse for the hasty act she had committed, in the impulse of the moment, she stood pale and silent before them. "Ah! now Miss Corrie, I know the terms on which we stand," said Annesley, and there was both hauteur and in- dignation in his tones. ** Now, were there no other tie between us, even friendship and respect would die out of my heart, for the girl who would actually disarm one of her father's brother officers, and leave him at the mercy of a Rebel—" '' Not so, sir," replied O'Neill, courteously, at the same time sheathing his sword. " If Miss Corrie has literally disarmed you, she has virtually disarmed mc. I am a soldier and a gentlem_an — not an assassin." With these words, O'Neill returned to Estelle, and, again kneeling beside her, was about to raise her in his arms, when he and his companions were startled by the sudden appear- ance of Owen Maguire, who came running towards them at full speed, his face clouded with fear and anxiety on O'Neill's account, and in such a state of breathless agitation that for some seconds he could not utter a word. OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 23/ " What is it, Owen ? " asked O'Neill, as he hurriedly rose to his feet and grasped his sword. ** Owen Maguire ! " said Annesley, to himself, wonderingly, as he noticed the livery worn by Ow^en. " How comes he here. In whose service can he be now ? " "Oh, yer honour !" cried Owen to his master — "the souldiers I — the souldiers ! 'Tis a large party av thim will be comin' this way in a shoort thime ; they're not far off now, an' yer honour can't get back that way, at all, at all," he continued, indicating the road by which he had just come. " Sure 'tis the big guards they've sthationed in different places along the road. Oh ! sure what can I do to save ye now, masther darlin' ? " cried the faithful man, despair- ingly. At first Owen was so anxious about the safety of O'Neill, and so intent on the thought of how he could best rescue him from the impending peril, that he did not notice the prostrate form of Estelle, nor Annesley, who was standing near him, a silent watcher of the scene. He chanced at last to turn his head in that direction, and started back in great consternation. " Ochone ! " he exclaimed, in a low tone to O'Neill, '' what's happened, yer honour ? — an' this gintleman, — " he added, glancing apprehensively at Annesley. " Sure he's an officer in the Marines. Oh I wirra^ wirra 1 'Tis lost enthirely ye'll be, masther darlin', for the souldiers from his barracks will be here this minute." 238 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; CHAPTER XXII. " How oft has the Banshee cried j How oft has death untied Bright Unks that glory wove, Sweet bonds entwined by love ! Peace to each manly soul that sleepeth ; Rest to each faithful eye that weepeth ; Long may the fair and brave Sigh o'er the hero's grave." Moore. "There is some treachery here, Owen 1" said O'Neill, grasping his sword, as he stood in readiness for the approach of the soldiers. " That's thrue for ye, sir, an' niver a lie in it," answered Owen, glancing suspiciously at Annesley. " But, sure, yer honour, there's not a moment to lose." Owen, who, in case of accidents, had taken upon him- self to be in waiting in a sheltered hollow with his master's horse, a short distance from the spot where O'Neill was to meet Eveleen, having heard, while in his place of conceal- ment, the conversation of some soldiers who had arrived there, and were to be placed on guard along the road, had thereby gathered that O'Neill had been betrayed, and that in a short time he would be so surrounded as to render escape impossible. In a moment he had mounted the horse ; the trees and brambles successfully hiding him from view,and the soft turf on the roadside preventing the noise of the horse's hoofs from being heard. He soon reached the spot where he knew that he would find O'Neill, and once more concealing the horse, near hand, he hastened with all speed to warn his master of his danger. OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 239 " It is this way we must go, Owen/' said O'Neill, pointing to the road on his right hand. " No, no ! " exclaimed Owen, " it's the big guard they'll have there, an', sure, 3^e'll have to pass the barracks. Ochy wirra, ivirra ! sure, it's lost enthirely yer honour'll be ! " " Not yet, Owen ! " answered O'Neill, quietly, " I need not go by that road. If you have my horse awaiting me anywhere near hand, as usual, I can take the mountain passes." " Sure, I have yer hoorse, masther darlin', but ye can't go that way ; ye couldn't crass the stape mountains, there's .sorra hoorse in all the counthry could do it," he added, despairingly. ''Mine will do it, Owen! " returned O'Neill, fearlessly, "I have often crossed those very mountains for practice, my horse and I are well accustomed to it ; many times lately, when hotly pursued, w^e have found that same mountain a good friend." " Och, begorrah ! " cried Owen, suddenly remembering the presence of Annesley, " sure, I'd forgot the milithairey gintleman enthirely, woorse luck to me," he added, in a low tone, " for tellin' iverythin' before him." '* You need not fear inc, Owen Maguire," said Annesley, w^ho had overheard his last words, " / shall not betray your master." " Why ! " cried Owen, in surprise, on hearing Annesley's voice, and, for the first time, recognising him, " troth, it's his honour, Captain Annesley ! " " Right, Owen ! " was the reply, " but I am truly grieved to find that ro/^ are connected with the Rebels." " Sure, haven't I an' mine been faithful followers av — " com- menced Owen, glibly, but was interrupted by O'Neill, who laid his hand warningly on his arm, to which Owen replied by a very significant nod, as he continued, " Sure, I mane av this gintleman's family ; yes, sir, an' it isn't mesilf that would be afther desartin' his honour in the thime av throuble ; though," he added, w^ith a sidelong glance at Annesley, " I belave that's what they'd do in the counthry where yer honour has just come from." Eveleen now came forward to Annesley ; laying her hand 240 upon his arm, she raised her eyes pleadingly to his, and asked earnestly for his help. *' You will protect him, Armoric ? Oh, say that you will protect him ! " *' / — / protect him ? " exclaimed Annesley, coldly, and in tones of astonishment. '* For my sake, Armoric ! " she pleaded, eagerl}^ *' For j/o?/r sake, Eveleen ? " he returned, bitterly, as he thrust aside her hand with an impatient movement. ** How can vou dare to ask any favour of me, after all that has passed this night, and before my very eyes ? No," he con- tinued sternly, as he turned away from her, ** I shall do nothing more for your sake ; and I will protect no Rebel — I could not so far forget my duty as an officer, holding the King's commission. I would not harm, or betray him, for he is alone, I will neither assist at his capture, nor will I be the means of his death. But I will ;?o/ connive at the escape of a notorious Rebel." With these words Annesle}^ walked away from Eveleen,and picked up his sword, glancing at her, and then at the weapon in his hand, as he once more replaced it in its scabbard, with an expression of strange significance on his countenance. " Oh, Armoric ! " she cried,sorrowfully,'' the day may come when I can explain all to you, — until then, trust me. Oh ! trust me ! "she continued, earnestly, laying her hands on his once more, " believe nie^ when I tell you, that if this gentle- man is taken prisoner, it will bring untold misery to those you have once called your dearest friends." " Doubtless it will bring misery to yow, at any rate," he muttered, resentfully then with a sudden change in his man- ner, and a voice softened by emotion, he turned to Morven, saying to him, with gentle courtesy, '* Go, sir ! Escape while there is yet time. My Colonel has done much for me — his daughter nov/ pleads for you. Go ! We shall meet again like gentlemen and men of honour — for your conduct has certainly entitled you to that epithet, whoever you may be — and we will then settle our little difference, untrammelled by a woman's tears and petitions." O'Neill went up to Annesley and offered his hand, which the latter pressed warmly in his. " Whenever and wherever you please to appoint. Captain OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 24I Annesk}^," he said ; '^ give your message to Owen Maguire, he win dehver it me. He is always to be found through Anty Kinahan, at the ' Shamrock,' " added O'Neill, smilingly. '' Ah I this must not be," cried Eveleen, determinedly. ** You shall neither of you leave this spot until I have your promise that you will not meet in this way." ''It is useless, Miss Corrie. Your interference is utterly useless," replied Annesley. ** We will give no such pro- mise." " Oh ! " murmured Eveleen to herself, as sadly she turned from Annesle}^ hurt at the coldness in his voice, when addressing her ; '' have I lost for ever the love of the one who was dearest to me in all the world ? " Had Annesley seen the tears that fell on the girl's clasped hands, and which she had been unable longer to repress, he might have been softened, but her face was turned proudly away from him, and the light was fitful, while she stood in the shadow. It is also possible, however that had he seen her emotion he might have imagined it was on O'Neill's account, rather than on his, and the misunderstanding would thus have been rendered all the greater. " One word to you, sir, " said Annesley to O'Neill. '' Miss Corrie seems to be most deeply interested in you. Let me give you a word of warning. As Owen Maguire has told you that the roads are all guarded, you will have literally to cut your way through each party of men. Should you escape to-night, let me pray you to leave the country as quickly as you can, or 3'ou will inevitably be taken ; our soldiers are sent in pickets to scour the moun- tains, and they miist^ sooner or later, come upon 3'our place of concealment. Oh ! " he added, sorrowfully, glancing at Eveleen, '' I entreat you spare for yourself a traitor's doom for her sake." ''I do not fear," replied O'Neill, defiantly;-' 'Met them search for me if they will — and find me if they can. But as the French have it, in an old proverb — ' // passera bien de Veau sous les ponts d'ici a ce temps-la.^ " '* Ay ! " answered Annesley, gravely, and there is another which possibly you may have forgotten — ^ Les plus Jntppesy sont pri's.^ " VOL. I. R 242 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; " The souldiers ! Sure they come!" cried Owen, sud- denly, looking round a corner of the rocky bank. " Now masther darlin', it's quick that's the word ; whichiver road ye go, ye'll have to fight yer way through thim. I have yer hoorse here, all ready. Look ! look ! " he shouted, excitedly. " 'Tis roundin' yondher point they are now — they'll be here this minute, woorse luck to thim ! " " Oh ! go quickly ! lose not a moment I " implored Eveleen, in great agitation. Morven went quickly towards Estelle, who began to revive, and to move slightly. " Och ! lave the misthress, yer honour," said Owen, anxiously, "she'll be safe enough wid mesilf ; oh ! yes, sir," he continued in, despair, as he saw O'Neill lift Estelle tenderly in his arms, " sure it's mesilf that'll attind to her ladyship. See, it's gettin' betther she is." " Leave her to me ! " said Eveleen. " She will be well cared for — whoever she may be. Ah, see ! she has fainted again." " Och faraoir I faraoir ! he'll niver manage to escape, bur- dened wid her weight," sighed Owen, hopelessly. *' I cannot leave her," replied O'Neill, " when she recovered her senses it would break her heart to find that I had de- serted her." ''Ah I" cried Eveleen, with a look of horror, as the first of a party of soldiers appeared in the very path by which O'Neill saw the only means of escape. ** Too late ! too late ! " she sobbed. '' Och, begorrah I " exclaimed Owen, in despair, " I niver thought av thim comin' this way. Ah ! then 'tis the masther that's lost enthirely I " he added, as Sergeant Smith appeared at the head of a party of the Marines with fixed bayonets. Annesley, b}^ a quick movement, placed himself in front of Eveleen, to conceal her from the view of the soldiers, lest any of them should chance to recognise her ; they were both standing in the shadow of the trees and were not seen at first. For a few moments O'Neill stood looking defiantly at the soldiers, with Estelle still clasped in his arms. His cloak having blown aside, he was recognised in an instant by the sergeant, who knew the Rebel uniform, and the white scarf worn by the leaders. OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 243 " Ah, my lads I " he called to the soldiers, " here is our man at last I Surround him I " Several of the Marines advanced towards O'Neill, with the intention of surrounding him. *' Don't be too sure, sergeant I You have not yet caught Michael Clitny, the Captain of the ' Bold Boys,' " cried O'Neill, as he drew his sword, and with the still unconscious Estelle on his left arm, fought his way bravely through the group of soldiers. At this critical moment, an unexpected ally appeared in the person of the young American. Silas Charleston, who, with the quiet remark : " Wa'al I I guess there's pretty considerable unfairity in tJiis arrangement, Boys — the numbers airn't equal" — dashed into the midst of the soldiers, and cutting right and left with a small sword which he carried, successfully contrived to cover the retreat of O'Neill, who, taking advantage of the momentary surprise of the soldiers at the sudden appearance of Silas Charleston, together with his own intrepidity and daring, soon gained the spot where Owen stood ready with his horse, but concealed from the view of the sergeant and his men. To mount was the work of an instant, and with Owen's assistance, Estelle was placed safely in front of him, when, the horse flying along with lightning speed, there was soon a long distance between O'Neill and his pursuers, the former having taken the road round to the m.ountains on the opposite side of the lake. The soldiers being intent on following the supposed Michael Chiny, forgot to notice Owen Maguire and Silas Charleston, who quickly disappeared and concealed them- selves, until all being once more quiet they could make their escape unobserved. Even at that moment of extreme danger, O'Neill's un- selfish nature showed itself; he kept constantly looking round, fearful for the safety of his faithful follower, and the brave young American who had so generously come to his aid, and who had been warned of O'Neill's peril much in the same way as Owen, only his suspicions had been first aroused by the mysterious conduct of Magin and the visit of the R — 2 244 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; ragged urchin to the barracks, Silas having been a witness of the boy's cautious look around him as he left the gate. It is probable that had it not been for Estelle's sake, and the knowledge that his death, or imprisonment, at that time, would be a decided blow to ^^ the caiise^^ O'Neill would have turned his horse's head and gone to the rescue of Owen and Charleston. A last glance, however, satisfied him that the soldiers were giving their full attention to his own pursuit and capture, and that, in the general confusion, both Owen and the American had escaped. But now another danger menaced O'Neill. The soldiers' orders had always been most strict, that in the event of their encountering Michael Cluny^ he was to be taken, ''^ alive or deady O'Neill had now so far evaded their grasp, that they had no alternative but to have recourse to firearms. Eveleen, who had been watching them, saw what they were about to do, and clinging to Annesley's arm, she cried to him, en- treatingly : '• Save him, Armoric ! Oh, save him ! " " What can / do now, Eveleen ? " he asked. *' Call the men back," she replied, hurriedly. " Quick ! Oh, Armoric ! They are going to fire ! Call — call to them ! " she urged, wildly. '*I cannot, Eveleen!" answered Annesley, sternly. *'The men have their orders — my duty " " See ! they are going to fire ! " she exclaimed, half frantic with terror and despair. *' He will be wounded, and that poor girl in his arms, too ; he will be taken prisoner. Oh, have you no feeling ? A word from you would detain his pursuers, and give him a chance for his life and liberty, yet you will not speak that word. Oh ! you are cruel — cruel ! " she sobbed, as she buried her face in her hands to shut out from her view her cousin's terrible danger. Annesley was a good officer, a strict, but just disciplinarian, firm and determined in the observance of duty, a man with an inveterate horror of disloyalty, but the truly brave are always tender and merciful, and he could no longer resist the pleadings of Eveleen, which, it must be owned, found an echo in his own heart. He saw, too, that Eveleen was about, in her despair, to follow the soldiers, so, hastening after her, OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 245 he gently, but firmly drew her back to his side, and called to the sergeant, who was now some distance away from them. " Sergeant ! " "Yes, sir! " returned the sergeant, as he paused and gave the order to his men. '■ Halt, lads ! " Which order was received with great satisfaction, and obeyed with evident alacrity by the Marines, to whom the present duty on which they were engaged was most obnoxious. '' I am here to take the responsibility," called Annesley to the sergeant. '' Do not let the men fire at present. And let them keep to the main road, they cannot follow up this daring Rebel, he is too well accustomed to every mountain pass ; but they may cut him off half-way, if they keep to the road." '' Very good, sir," cried the sergeant, in reply. '* On, my lads ! " was his next command to his men, and they then disappeared down a hill, and out of sight of Eveleen and Annesley. " There, Miss Corrie," said Annesley, turning to Eveleen, " I have done all I can for you. If I mistake not, yoti?' friend will give the main road a very wide berth to-night, and no doubt he will have made good use of these few moments ; he will be out of sight of our men by this time." " Oh, Armoric ! Heaven bless you for this ! How can I ever thank you enough ? " said Eveleen, earnestly. " I want no thanks," replied Annesley, coldly, "and, indeed, I am not at all clear that I have done my duty in this instance." ^^ Duty I oh, what did that matter when his life and liberty were in danger ! " returned Eveleen. " It would have been worse than death to him to have been taken prisoner. Ah ! " she cried suddenly, pointing to the range of mountains oppo- site to them. " See I he has nearly reached those hills. He is safe ! Yet no! " she exclaimed again, despairingly, "he is closely followed by other soldiers now, they are well- mounted cavalry ; they will cut him off from the mountain path. Oh, Armoric ! he will be taken ! " " Not yet 1 " said Annesley, who was now watching, as 246 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; eagerly as Eveleen, the distant figure of the brave rider, as the trusty horse seemed Hterally to fly over every obstacle in his path. " Look ! " he cried, excitedly, his hand resting on Eve- leen's shoulder, ** he has passed over the first hill — there he goes I See how his horse breasts the mountains. Ah ! did you see the leap he took just now ? Nobly done ! nobly done ! he will escape yet ! the horses of the cavalry are un- trained for such work as that, they cannot follow him. He is a brave fellow, that friend of yours, Eveleen," added Annesley, admiringly, "I should not like to see him taken." For the moment, the young officer forgot all rivalry, in the brave man's thorough appreciation of the gallantry of another. '* Ah ! " he exclaimed, anxiously, "the cavalry have dis- mounted, and see, they are trying to follow him on foot, with their carbines. And Eveleen ! " "Ah ! he is lost ! he is lost ! " she interrupted, her voice trembling, her face pale as death. " He has forgotten the gorge, he cannot cross that ; they will come upon him now ; he has no other way of escape, except by going down to the road again on the other side of the hill, where our men will meet him. Oh, Armoric ! " she cried, sadly, ** nothing can save him now." The clouds had all passed away some time before, and the moon shone forth like a rare gem in the horizon, a silent witness of the strange, wild scene that was being enacted beneath the halo of her wondrous light, showing distinctly, to the two anxious watchers by the side of the dark, gloomy lake, the figures of horse and rider, and the relentless pursuers, clearly defined against the sky ; when O'Neill, having arrived at the brow of the hill, his horse, as if some instinct told him of the danger of his much-loved master, without a moment's hesitation leapt the wide chasm, beneath which the roaring torrent fell hissing and foaming into the lake below, and landed O'Neill and his precious burden safely on the other side. " He has done it ! — he has done it ! " exclaimed Annesley, in tones of the most sincere admiration and delight. '' Bur- dened as he was with the girl, too ; well done, horse and rider I OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 24/ There ! do you see, Eveleen, some of the soldiers who fol- lowed him to the last, now left on the opposite side of the gorge, while others are still only climbing the mountain steep ? " Annesley's face had been turned towards Eveleen while he was speaking, and he was therefore startled when she clung to him with a cry of despair. Her eyes had never left the fast retreating form of her cousin, and she had seen the new danger that threatened him ; two of the soldiers who had been the foremost of his pursuers had raised their carbines, and were prepared to fire. *' Armoric ! They are going to fire ! " No sooner had the words passed Eveleen's lips, than the shots were heard. *' It has not reached him ! " said Annesley, soothingly. '' Look, Eveleen ! Yonder he goes ! — he is out of sight now, he is safe at last ! " ^' Safe at last ! " repeated Eveleen, fervently. " Oh ! thank Heaven for that ! and God bless you, Armoric, for what you have done this night ! " Annesley and his companion were now startled by a sound near them, as of a sudden plunge into the water, and on glancing in the direction from which the noise seemed to proceed, they saw, to their astonishment, Owen Maguire swimming across the lake, to the opposite shore, where he landed, and climbing the hill with the agility of a goat, soon disappeared from view, in the same direction as that taken by O'Neill. He had tried his best to persuade Silas Charleston to accompany him, but the American having been slightly wounded in his encounter with the soldiers, and not being such an adept at mountain climbing as Owen, decided that he would prefer to return to their stronghold b}^ a more legitimate route. " There goes MicJmel Cluny's brave and devoted servant ! " remarked Annesley, as he watched Owen's proceedings with interest. '' He has taken the shortest road after his master; they will soon be safe among the mountains now. I wonder what the young Rebel Chief will do with that poor girl," he continued, thoughtfully. "Who can she be? She is evi- dently French, but no peasant girl or soubrctte — of that I am 248 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; certain, though her dress would lead one to suppose so." Then, turning to Eveleen, with considerable bitterness in his tones, he added : ''I am sorry you have a rival in that gen- tleman's affections, Miss Corrie." "A rival ?^^ queried Eveleen, astonished at Annesley's words and manner. " What mean you ? " " Just what I say ! " replied Annesley, sharply, " Ay, and a favoured rival, too, if we may judge by the young Rebel's anxiety concerning his fair charge. You see he would not leave her m. your care. How should vow have liked such a romantic moonlight ride, Miss Corrie ? " he asked, sar- castically. " I should have liked it exceedingl}^ had it been with one I loved," retorted Eveleen, defiantly. " You see, however," continued Annesley, in the same strain as before, " that you were not the only lady prepared to keep tryst with the notorious Michael Cluny. But why should I blame you ? — what attractions have / to boast of, in comparison with a handsome young Rebel Chief — (these sort of fellows are always handsome)— with a halo of romance, that in a woman's eyes, ever hovers over such men ? But your mind ma}^ rest at ease, Miss Corrie, for the present your lover is safe." The unfortunate idea once having taken possession of Annesley's mind, that O'Neill was Eveleen's lover, soon became firml}- rooted therein ; every word, every action of hers was considered by him as fresh proof of her faithlessness. He imagined, and, with the obstinacy which was one of his few faults, held tenaciously to the thought that it was on account of this 3'oung Rebel that Eveleen had, of late, behaved so coldly to him, forgetting that he, himself, had been the chief cause of much of the estrangement exist- ing between them. He worked himself up to a high pitch of indignation and jealousy. He even thought, with a certain sense of grim satisfaction, of Eveleen's feelings when she discovered that she had a rival in her new lover's affections, and that rival, to all appearance, a French soiibrette. She would indeed find that she had sacrificed the substance for the shadow. But he would let her see that it mattered naught to him. OR, LOYAL AND TRUE. 249 Such was the laudable decision arrived at by the j^oung officer, after which he grew calmer in mind, and felt prepared to treat his false love with magnanimous generosity and for- bearance. "And now," said Annesley, turning once more to Eveleen, " suppose we leave the romantic and return to the more practical business of life. To commence our descent to sub- lunary matters, will you kindly tell me what I am to do with you, Miss Corrie ? " " Do with me ? " asked Eveleen in surprise. " I scarcel}^ understand 3^ou, Captain Annesley." " How do you propose to get into barracks again to- night ? " he asked, quietly. " I intend to enter the barracks as I left them," returned Eveleen, haughtily, " and that was through the little door in the wall, at the back of our quarters. There is never any sentry stationed there now." " Ah ! And have you forgotten that the same little door door is alwa3'S barred, directly after tattoo, by the Colonel's orderly?" queried the officer. "No! You are too late to get into barracks by that entrance now. Miss Corrie." ^' Of that I am quite well aware, Captain Annesley ; but Shilrick OToole, the little drummer, promised to keep a look out, and if I were unable to return before tattoo, he was to allow the door to be bolted by the orderly as usual, and afterwards to unbar it again for me. I told him that he would know by just looking outside whether I had returned or not, as in the former case I should place a white paper in a crevice of the old wall near the door, where he would be easily able to see it by the light of the moon. And, that there might be no mistake, I told him that the simple words, ^ All is well,' would be written on the paper, so that, when he read it, he would understand that the door need not re- main unbarred any longer." ^' Simple ivords ! All is well ! " repeated Annesley, sternly, and standing before Eveleen, with horror and indignation depicted on his countenance. "And do you know the mischief you have done ? " he asked. '' Shilrick O'Toole, poor inno- cent boy, will certainly be discovered outside that little door after nine o'clock, and he will probably be sent to the guard- 250 SHILRICK, THE DRUMMER ; room and punished ; and, oh ! Heaven knows what his sen- tence may be, at such a time as this, when the discipHne of our men must be so strict ! and Shilrick an Irish boy, too. Oh ! just think to what suspicions of treachery this simple action may give rise." " Oh ! what can we do for him ? " asked Eveleen, anxiously, terrified at the storm she had unwittingly raised. " I never thought of this, Armoric. You must get him out of the scrape, somehow, if he is discovered." " That is easier said than done," was the reply. " And you knew," continued Annesley, angrily, " that Shilrick was a protege of mine ; you knew the pride I had in the boy ; and my anxiety that nothing should ever be entered against his name in the defaulter's book, either for neglect of duty, or any other fault. Oh ! why could you not have chosen some other confidant than Shilrick O'Toole ? And now," he asked, as Eveleen stood silently and sorrowfully before him, " how are you to be passed into barracks ? You will have a difficulty in getting in, even by the front gate, at this hour ; of course you will be recognised," he added, angrily, as he paced up and down for some moments. " And your name — the name of our Colonel's daughter — will be the theme of the barrack-room and the mess-table for months to come. Oh, Eveleen ! this is worse than all," he said, sorrowfully, as he paused in front of her, and watched every passing expres- sion on the beautiful, downcast face. *' Cannot you pass me into barracks, Armoric ? " she asked, pleadingly. " No," replied Annesley, decidedly. " Your going alone will be bad enough ; if you went in my company it would be ten times worse. Indeed if I did right, I should go at once, straight to Colonel Corrie, and tell him