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 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 LIBRARY 
 
 Class Book Volume 
 
 Ja 09-20M
 
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 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/whiteknightormon01melv
 
 THE 
 
 WHITE KNIGHT, 
 
 OR THE 
 
 MONASTERY OF MORNE. 
 
 A ROMANCE. 
 
 IN THREE VOLVMES. 
 
 By THEODORE MELVILLE, Esq. 
 
 Round the rocking dome, 
 
 For entrance eager, liowls the sarage blast. 
 
 Tlien, too, they say, through all the burthen'd air. 
 
 Long groan* arc heard, shrill sounds and distant sighs. 
 
 That, utter'd by the Demon of the Night, 
 
 Warn the devoted wretch." Thornton. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 lonDon> 
 
 rriMcd, at the Orietiial Freu, by WILSON & CO. 
 
 > LETTERMAN, STA 
 
 LUBOATE-STRI^T. 
 
 1802,
 
 
 V. 
 
 /
 
 TO THE REx\DER, 
 
 1 here "were formerly three- branches of 
 the family of Fitz-Gerald, distuiguish- 
 ed in Ireland by the titles of the White 
 Knight, the Knight of Kerry, and the 
 Knight of Glynn. The first, which [ 
 have chosen as the subject of the follow- 
 ing pages, is now extinct ; the second 
 and the third still exist, and are repre- 
 sented by Gentlemen worthy of hearing, 
 such antient honours. 
 
 In wandering through the regions of 
 romance, the writer is generally content, 
 to amuse the fancy, without the smallest 
 regard to moral, or probability, I have, 
 however, endeavoured to connect fancy, 
 
 .1804p9 '""''"'
 
 ( iv ) 
 
 moral, and prohahiUty ; and while a feast 
 is spread for the imagination, I have not 
 been inattentive to the amendment of the 
 heart, inculcating this grand lesson, 
 That an all-wise and all-merciful Provi- 
 dence directs and superintends all things; 
 that good is often the result of evil ; and 
 that the virtuous mind should never de- 
 spond, hoxvever severe its trials. I have 
 also attempted to pourtray the charms of 
 virtuous love, and disinterested friend- 
 ship — the punishment of guilt — the evils 
 xchich result from family feuds — the 
 blessings of peace and harmony — and the 
 rewards of constancy and virtue. How 
 far I have succeeded, the reader must 
 determine. — If I have failed, I must iii- 
 dulge a hope of being allmvcd the humble 
 merit of a good intention. 
 
 ' J t^
 
 THE 
 
 WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 CHAP. r. 
 
 '' All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights 
 Are fpectacicd to see him. Your prattling nurse 
 Into a rapture lets her baby cry, 
 While she chats him." Shaij, 
 
 Where the dark Avonmore rolls its 
 fertilizing stream through the rich bosom 
 of the county of Cork, and on its right 
 bank, are still to be seen tlie stately 
 Tiiins of Glanville Castle; the once proud 
 scat of the illustrious faniil}^ of O'Cal- 
 tighan. — The song of the bard was often 
 heard in its now deserted hall, and the 
 VOL. J. B shrill
 
 2 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 shrill wiiid whistles through those moul- 
 dering galleries, which oft resounded 
 w^ith bursts of enthusiastic applause, as 
 the light hand of the minstrel flew over 
 the expressive strings, to the high a- 
 chievements of their ancestors. 
 
 In the beo-inninorof the fifteenth cen- 
 tury, the castle, and its wide extended 
 territory, was subject to Calaghan O'Cal- 
 aghan, the chieftain of that antient and 
 powerful clan — A man of a proud and 
 ostentatious disposition ; jealous of a 
 rival's power ; tenacious of his own 
 rights and privileges; and valTTof the 
 dio'nified ancestry of which he boasted. 
 To his dependents he was indulgent and 
 generous ; towards his enemies, persever- 
 ing and persecuting ; and to those who 
 knew the weakness of his head, an easy 
 
 passage
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 5 
 
 passage was open to his heart, by appeal- 
 ing to his vanity, the source of all his 
 actions ; which he often displayed in the 
 most extravagant excess of shews, feast- 
 ing, and revelry. 
 
 Glanville Castle was proudly perched 
 on the awful brow of a stupendous clift, 
 whose base was washed by the dusky 
 waters of the Avon more ; its rear was an 
 extensive range of battlements, enclosing 
 a large court, and flanked with towers : 
 its western aspect commanded a woody 
 plain, where the eye v/as constantly ar- 
 rested by the windings of the river, until 
 the prospect was closed by that grand 
 and interesting object, the venerable 
 Mount Hillary, which spreads its broad 
 back across the plain, and served at once 
 
 as a bound and barrier to the domains 
 B 2 of
 
 4 THE AVillTE KNIGHT. 
 
 of Glanville ; M-liIle towards the cast tlie 
 sullen stream rolled through a luxuriant 
 vale, which might vie with the musc-re- 
 cordedTempe, where nature seemed pro- 
 fusely liberal of all her •charms, and the 
 raptured eye passed from hill to dale, 
 from wood to Avater, until the distant 
 turrets of the magnificent seat of the 
 noble house of Desmond, flanked by the 
 bleak and rugged mountain of Knock- 
 rawra, closed the scene on the delisfhted 
 si«ht. — To the north and south, the 
 landscape was rather contracted, as the 
 nplands, which gently rose on either side, 
 intercepted the view; at the same time 
 that it affoided a shelter from the harsh 
 and cutting blasts from those quarters. 
 
 The chieftain of Glanville had now 
 completed his sixtieth year, the last 
 
 ei<>:ht
 
 THE WHITE KXIGHT. 5 
 
 eight of which lie had passed in digni- 
 fied retirement, since the tamily vanlt 
 had received the sacred remains of his 
 amiable and much hunented lady.— His 
 sole attention was now directed to his 
 two children, the dear pledges of con- 
 nubial bliss. Ella, his daughter, had been 
 sent, on the death of her mother, to the 
 convent of St. Hillary, of which a dis- 
 tant relation was the abbess ; wliere she 
 was to learn all those accomplishments 
 necessary for one of her liigh birth, and 
 which were esteemed essential to give true 
 dignity to superior rank, Carbery, his 
 son, was now advancing to the age of 
 manhood, v/hilst his d flighted father 
 saw, vrith no small degree of pride and 
 exultation, that the di<>:nitv of his an- 
 tient liouse was likely to be represented 
 ^ . by ont^ worthy of that exalted honour. 
 B 3 He
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT, 
 
 He was, indeed, a youtli of most pro- 
 mising character: to a person on whom 
 the graces had been more than liberal, 
 was added a noble spirit, ten^ipered by a 
 suavity of manners, and enriched with a 
 benevolence of disposition, which ren- 
 dered him at once dignified, interesting, 
 and beloved. — He was the delight of his 
 father's heart, and almost an object of 
 adoration to the vassals of his family ; 
 at his approach, joy brightened every 
 countenance, the cottage doors were 
 iumg open, and young and old ran out 
 to see and bless their Carbery : he en- 
 tered into all their pastimes, encouraged 
 their innocent amusements, and distri- 
 butetl prizes t(» such as excelled in manly 
 exercises, — He was himself the bright 
 example, the bed of down, or indo- 
 lence of affluence, he never suffered to 
 
 encr\ate
 
 THE WHITE KXIGHT. 7 
 
 enervate his mine], or give languor to 
 his hmbs ; tlie earliest dawn of morn 
 saw him sweep the dews from the green 
 tresses of the uplands, or dislodge the 
 tusked boar from its deep covert. ^ — In the 
 literature of his age lie was erudite, and 
 judicious in the selection of his studies, 
 as well as in applying the fruit cf his 
 reseaixhes to the uses of re^ lii\\ ^xd the 
 comforts of all around Idm. 
 
 Among the luiglibouring cottagers 
 was a youth whose age corresponded 
 Avith that of the heir of Glanville ; he 
 wasthesonof a venerable peasant named 
 Randal: who, together with Rebecca, 
 the aged partner of his life, placed all 
 tlieir hopes of happiness in the future 
 destiny of their beloved boy, whose 
 innate vio-our of soul shone throuoh 
 
 o o 
 
 B 4 the
 
 8 THE WHITE KNIGHT, 
 
 tlie gloom Wiiich sanountlecl hhn, 
 and who, in tlie vale of obscurity, 
 liatl distinguished his name among the 
 rural throng, for superiority of mental 
 endowments, as well as in feats of hardy 
 exercise — For who could bend the bou'^ 
 or hurl the spear, or fling the quoit, or 
 \ault the horse, or cut the wave, or gaia 
 the distant £'0cd, hke Allan? — TiiCnobic 
 Carbery, whose presence was the honour 
 and delight of the rural throng, soon 
 saw and diftlnguishcd the merit of the 
 graceful rustic, selecting him as the part- 
 ner of his sports, hispursuits, and studies. 
 By degrees this intimacy ripened into 
 the most fixed and rooted friendship, 
 which proceeded on the one hand from 
 an admiiation of the splendid talents, 
 generous disposition, and genuine sensi- 
 bility of soul which characterized Allan : 
 
 while,
 
 THE VnilTE KXIGTIT. 9 
 
 -svhile, on the other liaiul, gratitude liad 
 established in his bosom a most zealous 
 attachment to that noble youth, v/ho 
 raised him from the obscurity of humble 
 life to be the friend of his bosom ; unfold- 
 ing all the precious stores of knowledge 
 to his view, and pouring the bright beams 
 cf science on his soul. — Such were the 
 disinterefted acts of Carbery, who saw 
 the many splendid qualities of which he 
 was possessed, and whilst he determined 
 to draw him forth from the gloom of 
 , ignorance, and baleful shade, of poverty, 
 he regretted the situation of many more, 
 possessed, peihaps, of the moil transcen- 
 dent parts, who were doomed to pine in 
 the lowest Avalks of rude society, un- 
 noticed, and unknown ! 
 
 ** Full many a gem of purest ray serene, 
 ** The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear ; 
 " Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 
 ** And waste its sweetness on the desert air." 
 b5 And
 
 10 THE IVIIITE KNIGHT. 
 
 And if gratitude could in any degree 
 compensate for the many and weighty 
 obligations imposed on him, Allan's was 
 a heart overflowing with the most warm 
 acknowledgments, and the most feehng 
 sense of the liberality of his friend — for, 
 
 " Not recollecting that a grateful mind> 
 ** By owing, owes not,'* 
 
 lie imaoined that his life would be but a 
 triflino; sacrifice to the interests or the 
 happiness of his illustrious patron. 
 
 Lord Glanville, whose very existence 
 was centered in his son, encouraged the 
 generous attachment ; and young Allan, 
 having become an inmate of the castle, 
 was treated with all the respect due to 
 tlie friend of its illustrious heir: whilst 
 the breast of old Randal was thrilled with 
 ecstacy at the distinction with which his 
 boy was honoured, and Rebecca began to 
 
 raise
 
 TFIE M'HITE XXIGHT. II 
 
 raise he* head among lier village ac^ 
 quaintances, proud of the consequence 
 which it reflecied on their cottage. And 
 indeed Allan justiiied the hopes they en- 
 tertained ; for, the first use he made of his 
 influence at the castle, was to obtain ad- 
 ilitional comforts for his aged parents ; 
 and he had the satisfaction of soon see- 
 ing their little fortune increase to a de-j 
 cent and respectable competency, pla- 
 cing them in a state of comparative af- 
 fluence to that of their neio-hbours in the 
 surrounding hamlets : nor did his own 
 good fortune ever induce him to neglect 
 the venerable pair, whom he visited al- 
 most daily, and to whom he was the 
 source of every pleasure, as he awis an 
 object of tlie most idolizing affection. 
 Nor was his exaltation a cause of envy, 
 nor the obscurity of his birth a source 
 of ridicule or disgust to the dependents 
 u G of
 
 IS THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 of Glanville ; he had that happy facility 
 of engaging the regards of all that knew 
 him, and possessed, moreover, some ir- 
 resistible peculiarity of person and man- 
 ners, which commanded respect, while it 
 insured esteem. In short, he was held 
 in ashigh consideration as if he had been 
 a branch of the illustrious family which 
 patronized him. 
 
 CHAP.
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. IS 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 " From the Icud camp retired and noisy court, 
 
 *♦ Id honourable ease and rural sport, 
 
 ** The remnant of his days he safely past, 
 
 " Nor found they lagg'd too slow nor flew too fast ; 
 
 ** One child he had — a daughter chaste and fair, 
 
 " His age's comfort and his fortune's heir.' 
 
 Prior. 
 
 " A little round fat oily man of God, 
 
 " Was one I chiefly raark'd among the fry ; 
 
 " He had a rogui&h twinkle in his eye, 
 
 " And shone ail gUtt'ring with ungodly dew." 
 
 Tbotftian. 
 
 On tlie left bank of the Avonmore, 
 and at the distance of a few miles 
 from Glanville castle, stood the noble 
 residence of Desmond. Its n:;ajestic 
 ruins are still to be seen, and bear tes- 
 timony to the grandeur of its former 
 
 pro- 
 3
 
 li THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 proprietors; and are, without exception, 
 tlie most superb and striking remains 
 of antiquity in that county, having an 
 air of ma2:nificence which strono-lv im- 
 presses the mind with ideas of tlie 
 splendour of its former state, and of 
 the times in which it flourished. 
 
 Here dwelt in honourable state the 
 Tioble Desmond. lie had served against 
 the invading Danes with distinguished 
 credit, and signalized himself in many 
 a hard-fought battle ; but now, having 
 grown old in the wars of his country, 
 was detej'mined to spend the remainder 
 of his life in retirement : where the 
 same spirit which urged him to pass the 
 prime of his life in pursuits of national 
 advantages, impelled him to dedicate 
 the years of a dignified old age to the 
 
 hap-
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 15 
 
 happiness and comforts of his immediate 
 vassals. 
 
 His only child, a daughter, M'as at 
 once the pride, the solace, and yet the 
 anxious care of his heart. He was now 
 descending the path which leads to that 
 ''bourne" from which ''no traveller 
 returns," and one wish only prevailed at 
 his heart ; that he might see this darling 
 of liis affections happy in the bonds of 
 connubial love, and secured from the 
 rough blasts of adversity by an honour- 
 able and distinguished alliance: his for- 
 tune was to be her dower ; and well he 
 was aware that many, tempted by the 
 golden bait, would offer up their vows 
 where their hearts would not be inte- 
 rested. To guard against this evil, to 
 secure his daughter's happiness and liis 
 
 own
 
 16 THE WHITE KXIGIIT. 
 
 ov» 11 dignity, v/ere objects of his most 
 earnest solicitude : to find one wlio 
 could love her for herself alone, would 
 secure the first ; and to have that person 
 of exalted rank, and of transcendent 
 merit, Avould be the very ultimatum of 
 his wishes. 
 
 The lovely Elinor, Vv'hosc bosom was 
 the residence of every virtue, as her 
 person vras the seat of every fascinating 
 grace ; though now expanding in the 
 full luxuriance of maturing charms, 
 seemed unconscious of their existence. 
 Her education was elegant tho' simple, 
 and the circuit of a few miles, and the 
 circle of a few distinguished friends, was 
 the limit of her excursions and the ex- 
 tent of her acquaintance.— Ignorant of 
 the guilty world, and remote from the 
 
 busy
 
 Tilt: WHITE KNIGHT. i/ 
 
 busy scene of all its ambitious projects 
 and empty pageantries, she enjoyed ni 
 her native shades that composure of soul, 
 cxnd purity of heart, which are seldom 
 found but in the vale of retirement : yet 
 Elinor was not doomed to '' waste her 
 sweetness on the desert air.*' In the 
 circle of her acquaintance she v>as re- 
 Vv^ied— she was admired — hers was the 
 praise and ecstatic feeling of benevo- 
 lence, and in the obscure path of lowly 
 life, hers was the delightful, the angelic 
 occupation, of plucking away the thorn 
 and strewing the humble vvay M'ith 
 ilowers ; whilst the countenance of in- 
 dustry, encouraged by her patronage, 
 was diiruscd witli smiles of sweet con- 
 tent ; and the smiling slieaf of plenty 
 displayed its golden treasures to the 
 suU; while the barren thistle blazed in 
 
 many
 
 IB THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 many a heajD, and gave place to U\s 
 cheerful sources of existence. 
 
 Elinor was tlie pride, she was tlie 
 guardian angel of the rural throng ; oft 
 as she walked thro" those happy scenes 
 of peace and innocence, would the little 
 chubby rustics swarm from the hamlets, 
 each ambitious of attr^ctins- he.r iH>ti€6 
 
 o 
 
 and sharing her smiles ; whilst her 
 bosom was thrill'd with inexpressible 
 sensations at the many artless proofs of 
 affection which they testified, in their 
 grateful little offerings of a daffodil, a 
 wild primrose, or a blue bell ; while one 
 more fortunate than the rest, would 
 conduct her with rapture to the delicious 
 hoard of a bee's nest, which he liad 
 watched for her sake^ and guarded from 
 
 intrusion
 
 THE WHITE KXlGHT. IQ 
 
 intrusion with all tlie sedulous anxiety 
 of a miser's care. 
 
 Siicli was the fair hope of Desmond— 
 lovely as the first hi ashes of the morn, 
 and an}iable as lovely. In her mind the 
 representation of each milder virtue was 
 depicted in the most flattering colours ; 
 whilst to pride, selfishness, and want of 
 sensibility, her imagination gave forms 
 of the most hideous deformity; impress* 
 ing her with a disgust of every meaner 
 quality, and an enthusiastic admiration 
 of all those actions which spring from the 
 nobler and finer feelings of the soul. 
 
 In the family of Desmond was also an 
 antiquated sister of the noble chieftain^ 
 naniedTheresa; in whom was combined an 
 uncommon portion of family pride, an in- 
 tolerable
 
 so THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 tolerable share of vanity, and an excessive 
 stock of superstitious bigotry. — She was 
 above tlie middle size, of a thin and 
 meagre figure, while, from out the shade 
 of gloomy and ponderous brows, peeped 
 forth a pair of grey eyes fringed round 
 with red, which seemed to cast a sort of 
 livid glare, on a sharp, pale, and wrinkled 
 countenance. She was a constant at- 
 tendant at tlie neighbouring monastery 
 of Morne, and her confessor,, father 
 Ambrose, often assured her, that she had 
 earned a crown of glory by the sacrifice 
 of such transcendent charms, by living 
 in the vale of retirement, and devoting 
 her prime of life to the service of the 
 church, v/hen the n.o>t potent chief 
 may be proud of her hand, and all tlie 
 inviting avenues of worldly pomp and 
 pleasure were thrown open to her. 
 
 To
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. fll 
 
 To the ears of Theresa this was in- 
 cense of the most gratifying nature ; she 
 A^'ished to have it understood that she 
 had declined the nuptial tie through 
 motives of religion : the crafty priest 
 M'cll knew her foible, he was also ac- 
 quainted witli her riclics and powerful 
 patronage, and as the superior of the 
 monastery was hastily declining towards 
 his grave, his hopes of succeeding to 
 that situation were principally founded 
 on her interest and influence. To her, it 
 may therefore be presumed, he paid 
 the most adulating attention ; and, by 
 an appeal either to her vanity or affected 
 zeal for religion, never failed to open 
 her purse-strings when his .occasions 
 required it. He was the agent of her 
 benevolence, and though the boon was 
 claimed and granted in the name and 
 
 for
 
 t2 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 for the use of some object of compas- 
 sion, it never erred in its progress to 
 the holy fatlier's own pocket, and for 
 his hnmediate purposes. 
 
 During the absence of lord Desmond, 
 in the wars of his country, Theresa had 
 the entire direction of the castle ; and 
 by a system of oeconomy, badly calcu- 
 lated to endear her to tlie domestics, 
 ^nd little suited to the dignity or incU- 
 nation of the noble and liberal proprietor, 
 had amassed a considerable sum ; whicli, 
 ^vhen added to her original fortune, 
 rendered her an object worth the atten- 
 tion of one less politic than a designing 
 priest. He was therefore seemingly de- 
 voted to her will, and unremitting in 
 he practice of every art that tended to 
 
 jsecure
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. £3 
 
 secure his influence over her weak and 
 credulous mind. 
 
 Elinor was often the companion of 
 her aunt in her frequent visits to the 
 nibnastery, to whose gay and cheerful 
 disposition she had endeavoured to give 
 a tincture of her own superstitious and 
 gloomy bigotry : but Elinor, tho' young, 
 was not devoid of judgment or penetra- 
 tion ; the vile arts of Ambrose did not 
 escape her notice ; and whilst she 
 lamented the weakness of her aunt, a 
 good natural understand in secured 
 her from the effects of so pernicious an 
 example. In one of their excursions 
 to the monastery, as they passed by the 
 foot of the bleak and rugged Knock- 
 rav/ra, and the mountains of Mona were 
 •open to her view ; the sound of tlie
 
 24< THE V/IIITE KNIGHT. 
 
 horn re-eclioed through tlie vale, and 
 tl]e liills resounded with the melloH^ 
 cries of the wolf-dogs ; at the same mo- 
 ment the persecuted savage darted across 
 the plain, the fleet hounds pursued him, 
 whilst the horses that conveyed the 
 pious Theresa and her fair niece having 
 on a sudden taken fright, rushed down 
 a steep descent until an opposing 
 mound arrested their career, and almost 
 shivered the crazy vehicle in pieces ; 
 the horsemen now arrived, and having 
 heard the shrieks of Theresa, some re- 
 linquished the chase to afford assistance, 
 while others continued, regardless of the 
 event, in full speed, attentive only to 
 the object of their sport. 
 
 The accident was not attended with 
 all the bad consequences which might 
 
 have
 
 THE Vv'HlTE' Ki^IGHT. 25 
 
 liave been expected : Theresa had in- 
 deed receiv^ed a violent contasion in her 
 head and shoulder, while Elinor, by the 
 agitation of her spirits, was thrown into 
 A'iolent h3^sterics. A courier having 
 been dispatched to the neighbouring 
 monastery, father Ambrose hurried to 
 the scene of distress, witli a quantity 
 of cordials, nostrums, and restoratives. 
 He was trulv interested in the business ; 
 the dan2:er of Theresa was connected 
 with his dearest hopes, and made him 
 forget the grave and solemn step which 
 he had assumed to give weight and 
 dignity to his character ; he arrived 
 quite out of breath at the feet of the 
 moaning Tlieresa, to whom, it may be 
 unnecessary to observe, all his attention 
 was directed. 
 
 VOL. I. c Elfhors
 
 '2.6 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 Elinor's fit had by this time subsided 
 into a cahii tho' alarming state of insen- 
 sibility; whilst the noble Carber}^ with 
 the most anxious and lively concern, 
 knelt by her side, exerting every art 
 to recall her wandering senses, and 
 soothe her into composure ; (for to his 
 hounds the accident was owing.) He con- 
 sidered himself, tho' innocent, the un- 
 happy cause of her sufferings ; and as 
 he gazed on the fiiir form and lovely 
 countenance of his charming patient, 
 the peculiarity of whose situation un- 
 avoidably exposed many fascinating 
 graces which would otherwise have 
 Leen concealed from his view, he felt 
 his bosom affected by sensations un- 
 known to him before, and Vvhich were 
 as delightful as they were new — be 
 found himself interested beyond the 
 
 feelings
 
 THE -WHITE KT^IGHT. 27 
 
 feelings of hamanity, and could not 
 TOistake the nature of that subtile and 
 tender flame, which, with electric swift- 
 .p:css, had taken possession of his heart. 
 
 Having at length procured a phial of 
 volatile spirits from Ambrose, he applied 
 it with such effect to the delicate tem- 
 ples and ivory forehead of Elinor^jthat 
 she soon recovered, in a great measure, 
 the natural composure of her mind ; but, 
 on lifting up her fme large blue eyc^, 
 whicli met the black, spirited, tho' now 
 languishing ones of Carbery, through a 
 timidity inherent in her nature, she re- 
 coiled, and shrunk back from his atten- 
 tions ; it was a situation new to her; her 
 delicate sense of propriety was alarmed, 
 and she called on her aunt 
 
 c 21 Car-
 
 2S THE -WPaTE KNIGHT. 
 
 Carbeiy saw and felt her situation ; he 
 arose, and retired a few paces with a dig- 
 nified^ respectful, and 3^et tender air ; and 
 having assured her, in the most soothing 
 accents, that her aunt was near, and reco- 
 rering from the effects of her fright, 
 asked her pardon in the most engaging 
 manner, for the unforeseen misfortune 
 which resulted from the sport he was 
 ens:ao:ed in ; at the same time observinc;, 
 that if fortunately she had sustained no 
 injury, he hoped the accident might be 
 remembered with pleasure, as the means 
 of his introduction to the most fascinat- 
 ing and most interesting of her sex. 
 
 Elinor once more raised her capti- 
 vating eyes ; a modest blush, tempered 
 by a smile of. seraphic sweetness, over- 
 spread her animated countenance ; she 
 
 bowed
 
 THE WHITE KXrCHT. £9 
 
 bowed her head in acknowledgment of 
 his politeness, ^\hile, in a faltering ac- 
 cent, more dulcet and expressive than 
 tlie most linislK^d and studied articula- 
 tion, she thanked him for his attention, 
 «and the kind assistance he had afforded 
 her. She now could perceive tliat the 
 pei-son she addressed was graceful, manly, 
 and interesting in the highest degree — 
 her heartfelt it — she, too, might hope to 
 derive pleasur from the accident ; hut 
 he was a stranger, placed perhaps hy 
 •birth at too humhle a distance from her 
 to indulge her with a hope that it would 
 be productive of even a second inter- 
 view. 
 
 A carriage now drew nigh, in which 
 
 was lord Desmond, who was apprised of 
 
 the accident ; and, liastening to the spot 
 
 c 3 arrived
 
 30 THE WITITE KXiGHT. 
 
 arrived at the moment that father Am-- 
 brose's cordial began to operate in a 
 favourable manner on Theresa: and the 
 person, language, and address of Carbery 
 had no less an eifect on his lovely daugh- 
 ter ; Avho having informed him of the 
 polite attentions she had experienced 
 from the graceful stranger ; Desmond^ 
 Avho Avas naturally polite, expressed his 
 acknowledgments in the v/arm.est terms, 
 and requested the favour of his address^ 
 that he might have the honour of n urn- 
 bering him among his friends. But he 
 shrunk back with disgust at the name 
 of Carbery O'Calaghan — he, however, 
 dissem.bled a pleasure A\'hich hz did not 
 feel ; and having again thanked tlie 
 graceful youth, he v» ith some difficulty 
 placed the moaning Theresa in a corner 
 of the carriage : Elinor soon followed, 
 
 ha^ inir
 
 Laving first cast an expressive look on 
 Carbery, which did not Ciicape lier 
 father's notice, Asho hastily entered the 
 vehicle, bov\^ed to the son of Ghuiville, 
 and drove off. 
 
 The enamoured Carbery followed them 
 with his eyes until the lofty Knockrawra 
 interposed its bleak and rugged arms, 
 and shut them from his view. 
 
 c 4 CHAP.
 
 T II E 'ivnrr e k x i g m t. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 " I.ove .' why 'tis joy or sarrow, peace or strife ;. 
 " 'Tis all the colour of remaining life : 
 " And human mis'ry must begin or end, 
 " As he becomes a tyrant or a friend." 
 
 " In all the dewy landscape of the spring, 
 " In the bright eye of Hesper or the Morn, 
 ** In Nature's fairest forms is aught so fair 
 " As virtuous friendship ?" 
 
 " And man may justly tuneful strains admire ; 
 *^ His soul is music, and his breast a lyre." 
 
 DryJen- 
 
 X HE lovely Kliiior was- sluit out from 
 the sight, but not from the heart of Car^ 
 bery, '^vho, remounting his horse, turned 
 tovvards Glanville castle with a pensive 
 and melancholy air, which could not 
 escape Allan, who began to rally, him 
 
 upoii
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 35 
 
 Upon the subject. But he was not mucTv 
 inclined to indulge the sportive viva- 
 cit^^of his companion: '^ Cease, Allan," 
 he exclaimed, "" this merriment illticcords 
 with the present state of my feelings — 
 I was going to say, with the sympathy 
 of friendship." 
 
 *' You was going to say a very ill- 
 natured thing then, "said Allan ; '^ nor do 
 I perceive the least occasion for all this 
 sullen gloom which envelopes you : if 
 the sight of a fine girl can be productive 
 of such dismal effects, I have only to 
 say, M'ith all the fervour of my soul, 
 From such sights good Lord deliver 
 me 1" 
 
 *' iVfy friend," replied the desponding 
 
 Carbery, *' I should esteem the adven- 
 
 c 5 tare
 
 34* THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 tuie of this day the most propitious of 
 my life ; but there are some cirGum- 
 stances \vhich throw a 2:loomv shade 
 upon the prospect, which I am confident 
 can never be removed : you are ahca- 
 dy acquainted with the deadly enmity 
 which has been hereditary between our 
 rival houses ; perceived you not how 
 the stern father of that angel shrunk 
 .I>^.ck v;ith horror at the mention of my 
 name? — Mine would be ecp.ialiy averse 
 to any connection M'itli his rival ; Avhat 
 then are my hopes of happiness ? I 
 much fear tlie adventure of tliis day 
 will prove a source of calamity/'; 
 
 ^'For shame then to indul^ye a thought 
 on the subject !"said Allan; "surely the 
 seeds of passion could not have taken 
 
 such
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 35 
 
 such deep root in your breast, in so 
 short a time, and from so transient an 
 interview, but reason and a manly spirit. 
 may eradicate it. I wish most earnestly 
 that you may for ever banish a remem- 
 brance of it from your mind, and believe 
 me it will require hut a feeble effort." 
 
 ** You are much mistaken," replied 
 Carberv; ''we cannot with all our boasted 
 reason, resist the sudden im])ulses of the 
 heart : man is a vain animal, fond of 
 presuming on l:is own strength, until 
 some incident, seemingly of a trivial 
 nature, on a sudden overthrows the 
 pillar of his greatness, and too feelingly 
 convinces him of his real weakness. 
 Human nature will be human nature 
 istil!; dress it up in any form or v/ith 
 c 6 any
 
 36 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 any ornaments you please. Could yoi^ 
 but look into the hearts of the most 
 celebrated philosophers, and view the 
 secret springs by which they Mere ac- 
 tuated, you would soon perceive, that 
 every action, so much extolled, and ap-- 
 parently so excellent, has its source m 
 human nature, and in human frailty.. 
 You would find the love of fame, the 
 desire of singularity, the indulgence of 
 some solitary enjoyment,, or the con- 
 cealment of some natural defect, to \je 
 -the occult basis of every sentiment and 
 every act ; which, though seemiugly a 
 privation, is in reality a luxury: — for 
 they esteem it so ; and it is unnecessary 
 ta mention, that every thing is valuable 
 according to the estimation it obtains in 
 the mind of him interested, and the plea- 
 sure he derives from it."
 
 THE WHITE SNIGHT. 37 
 
 *' I wish then, " said Allan with a 
 smile, *' you could derive a pleasure from 
 a privation I should readily recommend 
 to you, and give it a valuable estimation 
 in your mind.'' — 
 
 *' And what is that?" asked Carhery. 
 
 *^ A privation of thought on the sub- 
 ject we have just discussed," replied 
 Allan.-- 
 
 " As yet, my friend," said the love- 
 striken youth, " your heart is a stran- 
 ger to those tender sensations oF which I 
 >yeli know it is susceptible : you kncrw not 
 how soon you m.ay subscribe to my sen- 
 timents ; and when you do, I assure you 
 the suggestions of friendship, and vaiii 
 precepts of pliilosophy, will prove inef- 
 fectual
 
 38 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 fectual in attempting to remove those 
 feelings M'hich you now make a jest 
 of." 
 
 Allan perceived that it would be fruit- 
 less to combat against such methodized 
 arguments, and so decided an opinion. — 
 lie therefore proceeded in silence, nor 
 once interrupted the amorous medita- 
 tions of his friend until they reached the 
 castle. 
 
 The rest of the gentlemen, having re- 
 turned from the chase, were not sparing 
 of their jests upon our friends, for relin- 
 quishing it for better game, as they 
 termed it ; the old chieftain wished to 
 know the particulars of the adventure, 
 which his son as sedulously avoided the 
 recital of; mentioning, with affected in- 
 
 ditferencC;,.
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 39 
 
 difference, tliat the hounds had occa- 
 sioned an accident to tv/o ladies a\]io 
 Arere strangers to him, and that he 
 thought it incumbent on liim to afford 
 them every assistance in liis power. 
 
 '* Certainly,'' said his father ; and the 
 conversation happily took another turn. 
 
 The banquet hour was now announ- 
 ced ; the board was loaded with a profu- 
 sion of the most exquisite viands ; the 
 guests took their seats ; and festive joy 
 pervaded every bosom, save that of Car- 
 bery, in whose mind tlie fair form of 
 Ehnor still seemed to float, as in a vision 
 of delight, whilst an alloy was sometimes 
 obtruded on the scene,, by the scowling 
 iind forbiddino: visaoe of her fatlier. — • 
 The massive goblet was now sent round 
 wjth brisk hilarity, anrf as the mellowing 
 
 draught
 
 40 THE WHITE KMGHT. 
 
 draught prevailed, the song of the Bard 
 was called for. 
 
 The harp was now heard h| tiie lofty 
 hall, and the venerable minstrel accom- 
 panied its sweet sounds with his impres- 
 sive voice. — Repeated bursts of applause, 
 with enthusiastic eniotions, interrupted 
 the vivifying strain — for the noble deeds 
 of their ancestors were the subjects on 
 ^vhich he dwelt witli rapture. 
 
 SONG OP THE BARD, 
 
 BATTI.E. 
 
 Fill high the bowl, ye sons of Fame, 
 And pledge the mighty Rod'rick's name> 
 Who led his warriors, brave and bold. 
 To meet those northern tribes of old $ 
 
 That
 
 THE Vv'lIITE KXIGHT. 4l 
 
 That cross'd the main with giant stride, 
 
 On INlona's hilis to spread their banners wide. 
 
 The golden harp on Fiona's height. 
 Now stream'd to the astonish'J sight r 
 Nor floated long tliat flag in vain. 
 What war-like chieftains crowd the plain I 
 Whilst RodVick leads the bright array^ 
 The foe is struck with horror and dismay^ 
 
 Fill high the bowl — the goblet raise, 
 And drink to noble Thoscar's praise : 
 His spear had death's unerring aim, 
 And terror robed his mighty name ; 
 The Danish host appall'd, retir'd, 
 Where Thoscar deeds of deathless fame in* 
 ^pir'd. 
 
 Where'er his arms were seen to glare^ 
 The fiercest of the fight was there ; 
 Where'er his sable plumes were seen. 
 The purple current dyed the green ; 
 Before his buckler's beamy light, 
 The horror-stricken foe was put to flight. 
 
 Thy deeds of glory. Con, were great, 
 When in the battle's murd'rous heat. 
 
 Thy
 
 42 THE WHITE KNIGflT. 
 
 Thy rage, resistless as a storm, 
 Mock'd death enrobed in varying form : 
 Norwegian Thor, from Odin sprung, 
 Prostrate by thee, his brazen armour rung'.^ 
 
 W^hcn gloomy Irbald aim*d his dart 
 
 With ruthless rage at Rod'rick's heart j 
 
 He met his fate from Sulvan Roe, 
 
 Well skill'd to bend the stubborn bow : 
 
 On the wild heath the warrior lies. 
 
 To northern shores th' indignant spirit flies ; 
 
 O, great in battle was thy powV, 
 Conway, of war the strength and tow'r I 
 Of Erin's sons the pride and boast, 
 Before thee fled the Danish host •, 
 "With blasted hopes, unfurlM their sails, 
 And sought from Erin's wrath the fav'ri^g 
 gales. 
 
 Then fill the goblet, sons of Fame, 
 Fill high to each distinguished name ^ 
 While such heroic deeds inspire 
 Each chief to emulate his sire •, 
 On Mona's hills our harp shall wave. 
 And Erin prove the rash invader's grave. 
 
 The
 
 T?IE WHITE KXIGHT. 43 
 
 The bursts of applause now resounded 
 through the spacious hall, each bosom 
 heaved with noble ardour ; each wished 
 for their foes to present themselves, and 
 deplored the inglorious ease to which a 
 long interval of peace had doomed them. 
 The minstrel saw the stormy passions 
 rise; he checked their lage with his per- 
 suasive strings ; the sports of the field 
 were the subject of his song, and de- 
 lighted attention was depicted in the 
 coiuitenances of his auditors. 
 
 SONG OF THE BARD. 
 
 THE CHASE, 
 
 IvAR was a huntsman bold, 
 
 Steel'd Against the northern blasts so cold ; 
 
 Ivar loved, at early morn, 
 
 To hear the^ciellow noted horn ; 
 
 His
 
 44' THE WHITE KN-IGHT. 
 
 His willow bow was strong—and true 
 His iron-pointed spear of yew. 
 He loved to hear the wolf-dogs cry j 
 He loved to see the roe-buck fiy 
 Wide o'er the heath, and- urge in vain 
 His strength and speed the copse to gain j. 
 When fainter grown, he pants for breath, 
 Ivar rejoices in his death. 
 
 The IE !st-clad iPxOrn oft saw him wake, 
 To seek the wild hills bare and bleak ^ 
 From mist-clad morn to eve so grey, 
 With ceaseless toil he urged his prey : 
 'Till late upon some cHft's dread steep. 
 He'd lull his weary limbs to sleep. 
 
 One day as Ivar urged the boar, 
 It rush'd frorn A^^n's siiv'ry shore, 
 A refuge 'midst the v/aves to find, 
 Press'd by the fate that tugg'd behind ; 
 Th' impetuous youth, too, sought the wave. 
 But there the huntsman found his grave. 
 
 Oft 'neath the waining moon^s pale ray 
 The sportsman lost in wilds would stray, 
 But Ivar*s friendly ghost fs seen, 
 Pointing his steps across the green : 
 Where yoH four sfones their grey heads rais-^ 
 You 'U read the mead of Ivar's praise. 
 
 Loud
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 45C> 
 
 Loud and reiterated were the plaudits 
 of the festive throng; the chase was the 
 subject of dehght : each told some feat 
 of hardy enterprize ; numbered the tusks 
 of the boar, the spoils of the wolf, and 
 the branching honours of the stag, which 
 adorned the proud hall of his castle — 
 proofs of his intrepidity. — All seemed 
 animated with the subject, save the en- 
 amoured son of Glanville, whose unusual 
 taciturnity, and pensive deportment, did 
 not pass unnoticed by many, and was 
 particularly observed by, and a source 
 of the most anxious solicitude to Allan. 
 
 The harp was again resumed, which 
 the bard, desirous of instilling sensations 
 of the softer kind, touched, with exqui- 
 :site feeling, and with a magical effect, 
 to the sense-subduing, soul-dissolving 
 iiotes of Love. — 
 
 • ' S SONG
 
 46 THE WHITE KXIGIIT, 
 
 SONG OP THE BARD. 
 
 LOVE. 
 
 In Cytherea's fragrant isle. 
 Where myrtle groves perpetual bloom, 
 And flow'rs diffuse each soft perfume, 
 
 The infant Love first deign'd to smile : 
 The happy mother view'd the boy, 
 Fruit of raptures — source of joy ! 
 And as the babe she fondly pressed. 
 What strange sensations thrill'd her breast 1 
 
 The Muses came to view the child. 
 
 They praise him — they admire : 
 Just then the wily urchin smiled. 
 
 What soft desire ! 
 
 Thro' all their veins with sudden start. 
 Pervade each passage to the heart. 
 With trembling hands the lyre they string, 
 And strive on usual themes to sing j 
 But vain their ceaseless efforts prove, 
 The tender chords revibrate — Love ! 
 
 I know thee, Love — I feel thee hre, 
 
 A strange, untoward guest ; 
 Else whence each trembling hope — each fear 
 
 That cheers or chills my breast ?
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 47 
 
 Hence, hence — repair to Beauty's eye, 
 Or on Its bosom bask. 
 And there perform thy wayward task, , 
 And let thine arrows fly — 
 Ah stay, relentless, stay thy hand, 
 
 The cruel sport forego — 
 Nor hid in smiles or dimples bland 
 
 Dispense unerring woe. 
 For tears will start — 
 And anxious doubts distract the palpitating 
 
 heart. 
 And flattering hope will sometimes smile. 
 And promise beds of flowers. 
 In myrtle bowers. 
 Where tender sighs. 
 And speaking eyes, 
 ^hall happy ling'ring hours beguile. 
 
 Thou Sovereign of the heart — 
 Thou Tyrant of the mind — 
 Recall — recall thy fatal dart. 
 Thy magic chains unbind. 
 
 Alas ! tis vain, 
 
 For ceaseless pain. 
 And anxious fears inflame the breast j 
 
 No prospect cheers. 
 
 But soul-wrung tears, 
 Prompt the forbidden thought — and point to 
 
 rest. 
 
 i'Cf
 
 4$ THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 For who can tell the pangs he proves. 
 Who loves, and yet despairing loves ? 
 
 I see him pensive and forlorn, 
 Swell the burthen'd gales T\rith sighing ; 
 
 Now, by the murm'ring streamlet mounij 
 Now frantic o'er the bleak hills flying-— 
 
 Now on flinty couch reclin'd. 
 Sorrow shares his dismal bed ; 
 
 Fev'rish visions haunt his mind. 
 And the wild heath supports his sickly head. 
 
 Now in vales sequester'd low, 
 
 I hear him pour his plaint of woe, [plain, 
 
 Or cheerless to the threat'ning clifts com- 
 
 Ah ! unheeding of his pain. — 
 So felt of old the love-lorn maid, 
 When she the dread attempt essay'd. 
 
 From high Leucates steep : 
 So felt — when her last hymn she sung, 
 Phaon still trembling on her tongue, 
 And view'd the treach'rous deep. 
 
 Wild the frantic Lesbian flew, 
 
 Far her tuneful shell she threw, 
 
 On the dizzy summit stood, [flood. 
 
 And headlong plung'd into the whelming 
 
 But change the strain to notes of pleasure. 
 Let soft raptures breathe awhile, 
 And ev'ry breast confess the smile. 
 
 Of love — requited love, a boundless treasure f 
 
 As
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 49 
 
 As when the conq'ring hero prest 
 The lovely Thais to his breast. 
 And ail his peers in battle famed, 
 Timotheus — lord of magic sounds proclaimed, 
 
 Begin the song \\4th Jove, 
 
 That pow*r of powers most high ; 
 
 Prostrate he bends to love, 
 
 And woman's heavenly eye. 
 Ah see — he quits his empire of the sky ; 
 
 And in a swan's white plumage dress'd, 
 
 Steals to fair Leda's snowy breast. 
 
 And in a wild excess of joy. 
 
 Gives Greece her pride and curse — her 
 bane to Troy. 
 
 And see the God — what will not love perform ? 
 Change to a beauteous bull his heavenly form I 
 Europa mounts his back with pride elate, 
 Proud of his precious freight — 
 With love the God disguised now burns, 
 Insidious to the shore he turns, 
 And plunging 'midst the white-wing'd waves. 
 Far, far behind the surge-worn coast he iaves. 
 She turns her eyes in vain, 
 Swift o'er the sounding main. 
 He bears his lovely prize away ;^— 
 Till on the Cretan shore confest, 
 A God — he clasp'd her to his breast. 
 And in ecstatic trances died away. 
 VOL. I. D Bu:
 
 50 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 But who can trace the God in all love's wiles ? 
 
 When all his soul confest the Paphian power. 
 
 In gold array'd to break thro' brazen tiles. 
 
 And kiss fair Danae in the shower. 
 
 Or when to fair Alcmena's waist, 
 
 He twined in am'rous haste ; 
 
 Or to Olympia's bosom stole. 
 
 By passion urged for to assail, 
 
 Her fort of love in serpent's coat of mail. 
 
 And breathe into her breast his own herok 
 
 soul. 
 In vain did Juno's spies. 
 And Argus' watchful eyes, 
 "With constant, vain alarms : 
 Oppose his lordly will. 
 For love was victor still. 
 And gave him all the blooming Jo's charms. 
 
 Alas ! and must I sing. 
 
 The sovereign of the lyre ? 
 
 What woes unnumber'd spring, 
 
 From vain desire — 
 Nor music's powers divine could then prevail. 
 The ice which bound her frozen breast to thaw: 
 Far off impell'd by some resistless awe, 
 Like a wild fawn she flies before the gale. 
 Ah what could then his tuneful arts avail ? 
 
 In vain he sues, 
 
 In vain the God pursues. 
 
 Till
 
 THE WHITE KI^IGHT. 51 
 
 *TiU breathless in the swift-winged race, 
 Transform'd, she bloom'd a laurel round the 
 place. 
 
 Hence cruel Daphne, sprung from thee. 
 
 The laurel is Apollo's tree ; 
 
 The bright reward of tuneful sound. 
 
 Thy sacred well-earned branch proclaims 
 
 The victor in th' Olympic games, 
 
 And Heroes feel like Gods with laurel crown'd. 
 
 The hand of the minstrel had now 
 ceased, but the effects of the strain were 
 still felt in every bosom ; the old chief- 
 tain was heard to sigh, but it was for 
 long past pleasures, which, when thus 
 awoke in his breast, were attended by a 
 train of the most endearing recollections. 
 But the heart of Carbery was agitated 
 by sensations at once tender and tumul- 
 tuous ; the lovely Elinor was ever present 
 to his imagination's enamoured view — 
 her look of dignified simplicity, the 
 languor of her eyes in the moment of 
 D 21 distress,
 
 52 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 distress, and their brilliancy when re- 
 viving nature recalled to her face each 
 fascinating charm — the soft heavings 
 of her snow-white bosom — the timidity 
 of her looks, when first she raised her 
 animated countenance, and shrunk from 
 the attentions of a stranger — her artless 
 expressions of gratitude — all, all were 
 subjects which memory retained with 
 the fondness and enthusiasm, yet with 
 all the pleasure and anxiety, hope and 
 fear, attendant on the dawn of an infant 
 passion. For, he was too well convinced, 
 that, before he could obtain the ultima- 
 tum of hiswislies, prejudices of long and 
 rancorous growtli shouki be eradicat- 
 ed, and many difficulties encountered. 
 From this train of meditation lie was 
 awoke by the noise of the guests arising 
 from the table ; for the grey eye of the 
 morn had peeped in upon their revels. 
 
 lie
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 53 
 
 He departed with the rest, and souglit 
 his chamber, to give a more undisturbed 
 scone to his enamoured imairi nation. 
 
 Ehnor, on her arrival at Desmond 
 Castle, retired to her chamber; and hav- 
 ing reclined on the couch, the adventure 
 of the day solely occupied her mind. — 
 Her bosom, which was hitherto the resi- 
 dence of peace, was now usurped by 
 strange and anxious emotions. She was 
 not so yesterday, she was not so to-day, 
 when the early beams of the morning 
 shone in upon her. There was a sudden 
 revolution, not only in her mind, but in 
 her whole frame. She turned — she 
 trembled — she blushed — yet knew not 
 why ! And yet, what vision of delight is 
 this which presents itself to her enrap- 
 tured view? his air^ — his accent, his 
 D 3 tender
 
 54 THE WHITE KKIGHT. 
 
 tender, elegance of address, his generous 
 solicitude for her safety, which his eyes 
 so well expressed, convinced her she 
 need not trace the cause of her emotions 
 to any very remote source. Such was 
 the state of her mind when the dinner- 
 bell summoned her to the banquet ing- 
 Toom : she hastily adjusted her dress, and 
 with reluctance left her apartment, for 
 she dreaded, yet knew not why, to meet 
 those friends, the presence and conver- 
 sation of whom was so late, so very late 
 her chiefest pleasure. 
 
 To the banquet succeeded in due 
 time the hour of repose : she retired, 
 but not to rest ; sleep, which was wont 
 to shadow her pillow with his silken 
 wings, had flown; while anxious cares 
 and feverish solicitude succeeded. The 
 
 vision
 
 Tin: WHITE KNIGHT. 5X 
 
 vision of love, in glowing colours, still 
 occupied her whole mind ; but in vain 
 did she essay to think on other scenes, 
 or argue herself into a conviction that 
 her disquietude arose from the agitation 
 of her spirits, occasioned by the danger 
 which she had experienced in the acci- 
 dent of the morning. But the acci» 
 dent of the morning was attended with 
 recollections and impressions which all 
 her efforts could neither expel nor erase : 
 in this mood she passed the weary hours 
 of night, until the Morn, in her russet 
 mantle, appeared, and perceived a visible 
 alteration in her countenance; Avhere 
 pallid languor had usurped the favourite 
 seat of the rose, and melancholy sat upon 
 that brow whicli vras hitlierto enlivened 
 by emotions of pleasure and of inno- 
 cence. 
 
 D ^ CHAP.
 
 iSiS THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 •« The image of a wicked heinous fault 
 
 *• Lives in his eye ; that close aspect of his 
 
 " Does shew the mood of a much troubled breast, 
 
 •• And I do fearfully believe 'tis done." 
 
 ^' Seeming devotion does but gild the knave, 
 " That's neither faithful, honest, just, nor brave.*' 
 
 OT far from the seat of Desmond 
 stood the castle of Dromore, the seat of 
 one of the branches of the Gerald ines ; 
 it was situated on a proud eminence, 
 commanding an extensive range of ter- 
 ritory, but, from its elevated scite, ex- 
 posed to the winds from all quarters, 
 which rendered it bleak and dreary. 
 
 Its present proprietor had a disposi- 
 tion in unison with the situation of his 
 
 castle :
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 5? 
 
 castle : his aspect was severe and low- 
 ering ; his mind gloomy and suspicious ; 
 his person was the index of his mind : 
 haughtiness and cruelty were united to 
 meanness and cowardice ; and, from an 
 affectation of loftiness, though in reality 
 from guilty fear, his person vvas as dif- 
 ficult of access as his (h'eary mansion. - 
 lie succeeded to tlie title and estate on 
 the death of his brother. — The sudden 
 death of that brother, his hasty inter- 
 nment, and the unknown fate of an infant 
 son, whispered to the suspicions of the 
 whole country, that his successor had 
 perpetrated a deadly deed. — Xo proof 
 of guilt, however, came home to him, 
 and Gerald reigned more in the fear 
 tlian in the love of his dependents. 
 
 At the foot of the hill, and at a small 
 D 5 distance
 
 53 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 distance from the castle of Dromore, 
 stood the monastery of Morne, whither 
 the pious Theresa was accustomed tore- 
 pair for spiritual consolation : and as 
 there existed an intimacy between the 
 haughty Gerald and the pious fraternity, 
 he had often an opportunity of seeing 
 the lovely Elinor attend her aunt to the 
 monastery. — He saw her, and the na' 
 tural consequence of seeing so perfect a 
 model of angelic beauty was admira- 
 tion. But Gerald went still further, for 
 ihe first time he felt emotions of the 
 softer kind, — he fancied that he loved ; 
 I say fancied — for surely so refined a 
 passion as love could not reside in the 
 breast of the gloomy chieftain of Dro- 
 more, whose every thought was intent 
 on rapine, and on acts of deceit and ty- 
 ranny. He was nevertheless well con- 
 
 4/ 
 
 8 vinced,
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 5g 
 
 vinced, that, at his time of life, having 
 nearly approached the grand climacteric/ 
 with a person b}^ no means befriended 
 by the graces, he would have a task of 
 no trivial magnitiule to accomplish, ix\ 
 rendering himself agreeable to so young 
 and so fair a lady : he had however a 
 determined and subtile mind, and was 
 persuaded that stratagem and persever- 
 ance in general surmounted all diiticuU 
 tics. He was, therefore, not negligent 
 in the exertion of those arts of M'hich he 
 was perfect master ; and, aware that the 
 interest of the aunt would be a most fa^ 
 vourable circumstance towards the pro- 
 secution of his design, he laid hold of 
 every opportunity to engage her confix 
 dence, by the most assiduous attention, 
 and most unremitting industry. As 
 some of the pious brothers were for 
 p 6 the
 
 60 THE WIIITX KNIGHT. 
 
 the strongest reasons entirely devoted to 
 his will, he made use of their influence, 
 over her weak and credulous mind, to 
 recommend himself to her particular fa- 
 vour. 
 
 By perseverance in such arts, and by 
 the good offices of his pious friends, 
 Gerald soon became an acknowledged 
 favouiite of the unsusj)ecting Theresa. 
 He never neglected an opportunity of 
 meeting her in her frequent visits to the 
 monastery, though without the appear- 
 ance of design. He sometimes prevailed 
 upon her to partake of some refreshments 
 at his adjacent castle, and, as Ehnor of 
 course accompanied her aunt, he had 
 the pleasure of seeing her under that 
 roof where ambition as well as passion 
 .throbbed to see her preside. Elmor 
 
 did
 
 Til if. WHITE KNIGHT. 61 
 
 did not like the dreary mansion nor the 
 gloomy looks of its lord, which all his 
 efforts at complaisance could not en- 
 liven ; and, by an unaccountable impulse, 
 never entered it without sensations and 
 emotions of dread, which Gerald con- 
 strued into bashfulness, and which only 
 served to add fuel to that flame which 
 burned in his breast. 
 
 By repeated acts of politeness, Gerald 
 succeeded in drawing on himself the at- 
 tention of lord Desmond, with whom 
 he was unacquainted, and who felt him- 
 self obliged to make some return for 
 those attentions bestowed upon his sister 
 and daughter. He therefore intimated 
 to Theresa, the pleasure he should receive 
 in seeing lord Gerald at Desmond castle. 
 The invitation was eagerly communi- 
 cated
 
 62 THE Vv'HITE KNIGHT. 
 
 cated by Theresa, and accepted with 
 avidity by tlie chieftain of Dromore ; 
 who, perceiving, onhernext visit to the 
 monastery, that she came unattended by 
 her niece, seized so favourable an op- 
 portunit}^, and requested permission to 
 accompany her home on her return. 
 
 To a mind vain and weak in tlie ex- 
 treme, tlris was incense of the most ac- 
 ceptable nature ; and as she little doubted 
 but her own person and accomplish- 
 ments were the objects of his attention, 
 with a sort of modest diffidence assumed 
 on the occasion, she complied with his 
 request; — whilst Gerald, who never 
 imagined she possessed such notions, or 
 so much misconceived his intentions, 
 determined to reveal his passion for her 
 niece, and, by reposing a confidence in 
 
 her,
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 65 
 
 her, secure her interest to forward his 
 views, and sanction his pretensions. 
 
 They were seated in the vehicle, which 
 moved slowly from the monastery ; and 
 Theresa, intending to compliment her 
 companion, ohserved, v/hat a proud and 
 majestic appearance the castle of Dro- 
 more (which was then in view) had ; its 
 founder, she added, must have^ heen a 
 chief of lofty sentiments, if we can judge 
 of his'mind hy the elevated situation he 
 selected for his residence. She then en- 
 larged on the beauty of the prospect it 
 on every side commanded, and observed, 
 that it seemed to look down on all the 
 surrounding domains as so many tribu- 
 taries. 
 
 Gerald was proud, and this offering 
 
 at
 
 6^ 
 
 THE WlilTX KNIGHT. 
 
 at the shrine of vanity, was far from be- 
 ing unacceptable. It also afforded him 
 an opportunity of introducing the sub- 
 ject he had at heart, and heaving a sigh, 
 '' Alas, madam !" he exclaimed, *' how 
 much is the world mistaken in its o-eneral 
 acceptation of things ! To the eye of 
 the casual passenger, the lord of 
 stately toMTrs, and extensive territory, 
 seems blest, because surrounded with all 
 tlie appearance of, though too often in 
 reality a stranger to, happiness. Had I 
 not an unbounded confidence in the 
 goodness of your heart, I should hesitate 
 to inform you, that within those walls 
 which you admire, amidst those lawns 
 on which the eye may dwell whh rap- 
 ture, the owner is a solitary being; 
 whose situation is dreary and uncomfort- 
 able in the extreme, and whose heart is 
 
 incapable
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. §f5 
 
 incapable of receiving pleasure from the 
 luxuriant scenes which surround him." 
 
 Theresa already applied his v/ords and 
 his hints as bearing, in a delicate and 
 distant degree, some relation to herself; 
 she, however, wished to hear more dis- 
 tinctly the purport of his complaints, 
 and barely observed, *' It is indeed a 
 pity, my lord ; I never should have ima* 
 gined the picture you just drew to be 
 your own." 
 
 ** It is to be lamented, madam, that 
 the word pity is so often used^ and the 
 sensations so seldom felt." 
 
 A faint blush attempted to diffuse it- 
 self over the wrinkled countenance of 
 Theresa. 
 
 lie
 
 66 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 He proceeded — '' In yonder towers my 
 hours hang heavily; there is no tender 
 connexion to chear the wintry gloom, or 
 partake of the sweets of spring ; no face 
 to enliven my hoard, save that of the 
 pai'asite dependent. Howdiiferent would 
 be the complexion of my affairs, if I was 
 possessed of a beloved and approved 
 partner, to share with me the enjoyments 
 of an exalted station ! It may then be 
 esteemed a blessing to be great ; no 
 charm of nature would be lost ; no ef- 
 fect of art wanting to render the sur- 
 rounding scenes compleat : but now, 
 the gloom of sohtude and dissatisfaction 
 imparts its dismal tints to objects, in 
 themselves, attractive and delightful." 
 
 Theresa felt confused, she no longer 
 doubted the import of his complaints ; 
 
 she
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 67 
 
 she, however, affected nn incliiference 
 she did not feel, and began coolly to phi- 
 losophise on the subject. ** Indeed, my 
 lord," she replied, '' it is generally the 
 fault of our own wayward dispositions 
 that renders us unhappy ; we are too apt 
 to despise those blessings whicli we pos- 
 sess, and to appreciate too highly those 
 objects which we desire. For my own 
 part, I think that a mind capable of re- 
 straining its passions, can depend on its 
 own regulations, and be proof against 
 the weakness of nature, or rough assaults 
 of fortune. It may appear vain in me 
 to say, (she added, ) that I have had many 
 splendid and important oifers ; yet I de- 
 tennined to devote that little share of 
 beauty which Hcaveu had bestovy ed oa 
 me, to the sanctified shrine of chastity, 
 and my heart to holy meditations." 
 
 Gerald
 
 6s THE ^'IIITE KNTGflT. 
 
 Gerald with difficulty restrained a 
 smile, which never appeared upon his 
 sallow countenance but as an attendant 
 on malice, ridicule, or contempt. — 
 ^' Your intentions, madam," he mildly 
 answered, *' will, I trust, meet with a 
 reward worthy of them : but, though no 
 person can have a greater veneration for 
 the ordinances of our holy religion than 
 myself, yet, I must confess, my senti- 
 ments on some points may differ from 
 the general opinion. Life, madam, is 
 short, and its fleeting enjoyments should 
 rather be enlivened by what I conceive 
 to be the true feelings of devotion. — 
 For when I cast my eyes around, and 
 behold the manifold beauties of nature, 
 which should convey pleasure to the 
 sight, and delight to the heart, I cannot 
 bring myself to imagine, that, in this 
 
 flowerv
 
 THE WHITE KXIGHT. 69 
 
 dovv^ery vale, man was doomed to walk 
 the heir of sorrow ; and, when the whole 
 creation displays its fascinating invita- 
 tions, to reject them, is to despise the 
 benio-n donations of the Deitv : the 
 natural state of man is a state of so- 
 ciety ; he was not formed for himself, 
 but for the world, and, without a con- 
 nection with that Morhl, he is an unpro- 
 fitable ])eing ; and it would be impious 
 tt) suppose that any thing was created in 
 vain. I am, therefore, much against that 
 system of seclusion and mortification 
 which the Church recommends ; and 
 particularly that war against human 
 nature, which renders it micritorious to 
 waste the prime of life, the bloom of 
 health and Ijeauty, in tlic damp walls of 
 a cloister, or In a Vue oi'cclibacy." 
 
 Thus
 
 70 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 Thus did he apply arguments^ which 
 seemed founded on a just sense of the 
 goodness of the supreme Being, to cover 
 the artful advances of a corrupt and vi- 
 cious heart. For Gerald possessed, in a 
 high degree, the power of arguing with 
 great facility on any side, of any ques- 
 tion, which he wished to render subser- 
 vient to his own purposes ; and some- 
 times reasoned aright, but never with a 
 good intent : while the vain Theresa, 
 who entirely mistook the tendency of his 
 discourse, was charmed with his powers 
 of elocution, and became a convert to his 
 doctrine ; (in truth, she acknowledged 
 no other, except from necessity.) She 
 certainly never listened to father Am- 
 brose with so much pleasure ; and ob- 
 served with a smile, or rather a ghastly 
 grin, (which, by contracting her wrin- 
 kles^
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 71 
 
 kles, rendered her face the representative 
 of a withered mummy, ) that his lordship's 
 arguments were truly irresistible, and had 
 once more recalled her views towards the 
 world; adding, with an energetic squeeze 
 of his hand, and an attempt at an ogle 
 sufficient to frighten a vulture from its 
 prey, that if any sin should be attached 
 to her apostacy, on his head it ought to 
 rest. 
 
 The vehicle now stood still at the 
 portal of the castle, and Gerald handed 
 out the antiquated lady, cursing mtcr- 
 nally the vanity of her misconceptions, 
 which he now fully perceived. Ke was, 
 liowever, convinced, that no good was to 
 be done in that quarter ; and began, on 
 cooler reflection, to congratulate himself 
 for not having urged his arguments more 
 
 clearly
 
 72 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 clearly to their object ; for he saw that 
 the vain misconception of the aunt, would 
 be an unsurmountable obstacle to his de- 
 sign on her niece, if he ventured on an 
 explanation : he therefore determined to 
 let matters rest as they were for the pre- 
 sent. 
 
 Elinor, who saM' the coach glide up 
 tlie avenue as she looked from the bat- 
 tlements, was soon dow n in the hall to 
 receive her aunt, at the .same time that 
 she politely welcomed their visitor. The 
 old chieftain of Desmond now joined 
 them, and received his guest witli that 
 frank and noble w armth of hospitality 
 which so cminentlv characterized him.
 
 THE WHITE KXIGUT. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 *' First on ihj friend deliberate with thyself; 
 " P^use, ponder, sift— not eager in the choice ; 
 " Juclge before friendship, then confide till death '* 
 
 At Glanville castle all «'as festivity 
 and joy ; (save in the bosom of Carbery, 
 where the eyes of Elinor had infixed a 
 dart which all the efforts of reason could 
 not extract :) foi', at this .period, Ella 
 (who had been from infancy with a 
 distantrelation, the abbciis of St, Hillary, ) 
 returned to the seat of her ancestors, in 
 the bloom of j^outh, and full luxuriance 
 of unri\aled charms ; to which vreic 
 united the advantages of a refmed and 
 VOL. I. E highly
 
 74 rUE WHITE KXIGIiT, 
 
 liighly fiaished education : on so joyous 
 an occasion, the lord of Glanville in- 
 vited all tlie neighbouring chieftains 
 with whom he was in amity, to a most 
 splendid entertainment, Mdiich was to be 
 rendered still more attractive by a tour- 
 nament. 
 
 At this period Allan was absent on an 
 embassy to O'Neil, the chieftain of Ul^ 
 ster, with whose illustrious house the 
 lord of Glanville was desirous of form- 
 in o- an alliance, offensive and defensive. 
 For in those davs it was as common for 
 ♦the heads of clans to form connections 
 of this nature, as it is for sovereigns to 
 form leagues in our more polished period 
 of society : and the pohcy was the same ; 
 as a wish to oppose the ambitious views 
 of their neighbours, or the desire of 
 
 self-
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 7^ 
 
 sclf-a2:2:randizement, were the motives 
 which induced them to form such coali- 
 tions : nor was it an unnecessary poHcy, 
 for the thirst of power and dominion, at 
 that period, characterized tlie chieftains 
 of Ireland ; and as tlic weakness of some 
 rendered them objects of avarice or am- 
 bition, it was the interest of sucli, to 
 fortify tliemselves either by the union of 
 petty clans, or an alliance with some 
 potent neighbour to shield them from 
 oppression. 
 
 The prince of Ulster was, at this pe- 
 riod, one of the most powerful of the 
 Irish chieftains ; and it was an object of 
 no trivial importance to lord Glanville 
 to acquire his friendship. Ills very name 
 was sufficient to render the rights of his 
 frienxls respected, and his aUiance a 
 E 2 guarantee
 
 76 THE WHITE Kyi«HT. 
 
 guarantee against any manner of t3'ran- 
 fiy. Vv'itli this view x\ilan Avas deputed 
 to the Ultonian court, but he had dif- 
 ficulties to encounter which he was not 
 aware of; for Carrol, the friend of Des- 
 mond, had arrived a few days previous 
 to him, on a similar errand : and as a 
 rooted enmity prevailed between the 
 houses of Glanville and of Desmond, he 
 saw the impossibility of crowning his 
 diplomatic character with success, unless 
 he c6uld frustrate the views of his rival ; 
 convinced as he was, that the friend of 
 one must be the enemy of the other : 
 and though no person could more sin- 
 cerely lament that unfortunate enmity 
 v/liich prevailed between the rival chief- 
 tains, yet he felt it to be his duty, with- 
 out entering into the merits of the case, 
 to forward the views of his patron by every 
 
 mean^
 
 THE WHITE KXIGHT. 77 
 
 means in his power, and to conform to 
 the strict letter of liis instructions^ 
 
 Having arrived at the court of the 
 Ultonian prince, he dispatched a herald 
 with his name, and the Banner of his^ 
 chief. The guards of Ulster were imme- 
 diately drawn out to receive him, while 
 Carrol, irom a balcony, Avitnessed, wifcb 
 no small degree of vexation, the formal 
 entry of a rival embassy ; the courts of 
 the palace resounded vvith the swelling 
 notes of martial music, as the banner of 
 Glanviile was suspended in the hall of 
 O'Neii. — Allan delivered his crcdentials, 
 and a flourish of drums and trumpets 
 concluded the ceremony. 
 
 Tlie chieftain of Ulster vras, at this 
 
 period, about the age of sixty yeais, of a 
 
 £ 3 noble
 
 78 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 noble aspect, and a form which retained 
 the OLithnes of a graceful and engaging 
 youtli ; his disposition, though proud 
 and vindictive towards In's enemies, ^\as 
 warm and sincere towards his friends; 
 his court v/as the asyhim of tlie op- 
 pressed, as well as the favourite scat of 
 hospitality. — The songs of mirth re- 
 sounded in his hall, and the cup of fes- 
 tive hilarity gaily circled 'round his 
 board. His only son, the lord Tyrone, 
 was then in the thirty-second year of 
 his age ; a plain figure, possessed of ' 
 graceful and insinuating manners, but 
 of a disposition subtile in the extreme : 
 seemingly of a gentle and forgiving 
 temper, capable of concealing resent- 
 ment 5 but secretly persevering and per- 
 secuting in the pursuit of revenge. To 
 him Allan was introduced, and, by h.is 
 
 engaging
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 7^ ■ 
 
 en 2:a2:i 112: address, soon rendered himself 
 a favourite. Carrol was a man of deep 
 penetration, and soon perceived that the 
 heir of Ulster was much taken with the 
 youth and pleasing qualities of his rival ; 
 and to prevent the bad effects of that 
 influence which he was acc|_uiring over 
 the young chieftain, he determined to 
 urge a speedy termination of the object 
 of his mission, and accordingly he pressed 
 for a categorical answer.— A day was in 
 consequence appointed to hear the clain:is 
 of both candidates to the alliance of 
 Ulster. Tlie day arrived — the tributary 
 chiefs attended in the great hall of tlie 
 castle, and the prince heing seated un- 
 der a cano])y of crimson and gold, with 
 the insignia of sovereign t}^ and sur- 
 rounded by his warriors and officers of 
 state ; v/hile the venerable bard, in robes 
 E 4 of
 
 60 YUL WHITK KXIGHT. 
 
 of snow-white linen, touched the strings 
 of the sacred harp, and accompanied it 
 with his voice in a h} inn to the Deity, 
 imploring \visdoni for their chief in 
 council. The rival envoys were tlien 
 introduced, eacli by a herald, proclaim- 
 ing the titles of the chieftain whom he 
 j-epresented, and by a page bearing for 
 each his respective banner. Silence was 
 now proclaimed, and the prince of Ul- 
 ster addressed the asseiTilly in the fol- 
 lowing terms : 
 
 *'My friends and warriors, I have 
 assembled you here on a subject of no 
 trivial moment. Maturely should a 
 prince weigh the consequences of an 
 alliance which may operate to the joy or 
 sorrow of his subjects. You see before 
 you the envoys of two illustrious chiels, 
 
 e.icli
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 81 
 
 each desirous of becoming our ally, but 
 unfortunately an enmity of long stand- 
 ing exists between them, which renders 
 it difficult to become the friend of the 
 one, without offending the other ; it is 
 therefore my wish to hear the preten- 
 sions of both in your presence; that if 
 I should be unable to determine in my 
 own judgment, I may appeal to your 
 votes, and stand acquitted of any con- 
 sequences that may result from the de- 
 cision/' 
 
 Fie ceased, when Cai'roliFOse, and thuB 
 addressed him :^ — 
 
 " Prince of Ui^tery — fiiendship. has 
 ever been considered as a bond of the 
 most sacred obligation, and the natural: 
 disposition of man has led him, from the 
 
 1.5' mde
 
 82 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 rude origin of society to the present mo- 
 ment, to form connections of this na- 
 ture : — a connection, which has for its 
 basis, fidelity, and for its ohject, mutual 
 interests and mutual safety ; depending 
 on an union of sentiments, a reciprocity 
 of good offices, and a firm adhesion to 
 each other's fortunes. From individuals 
 it spread to families, from families to 
 states, and from states to empires ; but 
 the principle and motive were the same 
 in all these gradations,- — a compact for 
 mutual advantage, which was ever con- 
 sidered sacred, and to violate which, has 
 ever been esteemed a crime of the deepest 
 turpitude. By this means the weak is 
 rendered secure by tlie arm of the strong, 
 and the powerful is rendered invincible 
 by the auxiliary forces of its less potent 
 allies united to its ovni strength ; and 
 
 v\diiU^
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. S6 
 
 while the one acquires security, tlie other 
 attains to dignity and beauty. Like the 
 oak which supports and cherishes the 
 ivy, and has in return its noble trunk 
 enwove by tlie cIrcHng arms and ever 
 verdant honours of its grateful depend- 
 ent. I shall not deny, that thf; chief- 
 tain whom I have tlie honour to repre- 
 sent, is (in some degree), influenced by 
 self-interest ; but much more so by an 
 admiration of your excellent qualiiies^,. 
 and a. firm reliance on your honour ar.d 
 generosity. The first motive v/ill be ex- 
 cused when you recollect that he is old 
 and feeble, and at tlie door of a potent 
 enemy, whose envoy you also see before 
 you : and should he pay the avv^ful deh|" 
 of nature, an orphan daughter,, his only 
 chilJ, waul.l be left exposed to the ma- 
 lice of his foe, unless fostered by the 
 E 6 guardian.
 
 84 THE WlllTE KNTOinv 
 
 guardian care of some chieftain, gene- 
 lous and powerful like yourself. So far 
 I conceive his motives of policy are 
 justifiable: next are to be considered 
 his motives of personal regard, — he ha^ 
 fought by your side against the commori 
 foes of his country, and having often- 
 witnessed your valour and benevolence, 
 has selected you as an object of friend- 
 ship, from motives of affection and ad- 
 miration." He ceased, and a murmur 
 of applause crept along the crowded 
 benches. 
 
 Allan nou' rose, and to the graces of 
 a person on uhich nature had been pro- 
 fusely liberal, added a becoming diffi- 
 dence which rendered him interesting ta 
 his auditors, w bile with a dignif.ed air he 
 thus simply expressed his sentiments : 
 
 '' Most
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 85- 
 
 '' ^lost illustrious chief, — unaccus- 
 tomed as I am to speak on matters of a 
 public ami important nature, and op- 
 posed to so much experience, I much- 
 fear I shall be rather an injury than ad- 
 Tantage to the cause for which I am an 
 advocate : after what has been so justly 
 expressed by my opponent on tlie nature 
 of an alliance, I shall not trespass on 
 your time, convinced tliat every noble 
 chief who hears me, is fully sensible that 
 it is a compact of the m»ost sacred obli- 
 gation. But I shall beg. leave to claim 
 your attention to the motives which in- 
 duce my chieftain t:o seek your distin- 
 guished alliance, and flatter myself, that 
 I can prove him to be a-ctuated by feel- 
 ings more consonant to every gene- 
 rous and refined sentiment of the soul, 
 t^ian those alledged by my venerable op- 
 ponent.
 
 .&G THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 ponent. And first, I disclaim any mo- 
 tives of self-interest on the part of 
 my lord ; his spring from a pure and 
 honourable regard, which seeks what is 
 dearest to the noble mind, the fame and 
 the glory which may be attached to the 
 united arms and united efforts of Glan- 
 ville and of O'Neil : — not in oppression, 
 but in redressing the oppressed ; in sup- 
 port of honour, of miHtary virtue, and 
 the defence of their common country. 
 Such are the pure motives, before which 
 self-interest, abashed, must hide its head :, 
 and on such I urge the claim of my pa- 
 tron to your alliance ; he seeks it as a 
 matter of honour, not of necessity." 
 
 Having ended his speech, and resumed 
 liis seat, the chieftain of Ulster declared 
 his inability to decide, and appealed to 
 
 his
 
 THE WHITE KXIGHT. 87 
 
 his warriors ; and first, his son Tyrone, 
 declared for Glanville, whiose motives 
 he esteemed the most disinterested : va- 
 rious opinions followed, and at length it 
 was determined by the old chieftain to 
 enter into alliance Avith neither of the 
 parties ; but, if possible, to cultivate the 
 good opinion of both, unless some 
 M'an.ton aggression on the part of the 
 more powerful, v/ou Id at any time ca?l 
 upon hirn to succour the persecuted : he 
 tlierefore reconnnended to the envoys, 
 to ad\ise tl^.cir respective chiefs to 
 measures of moderation and liberality. 
 So the convention Avas dissolved to the 
 satisfaction of all, as neitlicr obtained 
 the object of his mission, and conse- 
 quently could not triumph over his op- 
 ponent. 
 
 Allan
 
 53 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 Allan 'svas now preparing to return, 
 satisfied at least in frustrating the views 
 of Desmond ; when a courier arrived, 
 informing him of the arrival of Ella at 
 Glanvulle castle, and of the splendid 
 preparations which were making for the 
 approaching fete. He communicated 
 this intelligence to the lord Tyrone, who 
 requested permission of tlie chieftain, his 
 father, to be present at the entertain- 
 ircnt; which having obtained, he set off 
 with Allan for Glanville, attended by a^ 
 luimerous and brilliant retinue. 
 
 CHAP,
 
 THE WHITE KXIGHT. 89 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 '' Love 's an heroic passion \< hich can find 
 ** No room in any base dtgenVate mind. 
 
 DryJeru 
 
 ♦* Man's heart th' Almighty to the future $cts, 
 
 *' By secret and inviolable springs ; 
 
 " And makes his hope, his sublunary joy. 
 
 iALLA^^ who had never yet seen Ella, 
 pushed forward with the utmost expedi- 
 tion, picturing to hhnself the pleasure 
 he would feel on an introduction to the- 
 fair daughter of his chieftain, and the 
 sister of his friend. Alas ! little did he 
 then imagine, that it would be an inter- 
 view fatal to his peace, and the source 
 of a long tissue of misfortunes and suf* 
 
 ferings.
 
 90 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 ferings. Having arrived at Glanville, 
 and given an account of his embassy, 
 he requested permission to introduce the 
 heir of Ulster, and the next day was ap- 
 pointed for that purpose : meantime he 
 flew to meet his friend Carbery, whom 
 he found in his study, in an attitude ex- 
 pressive of a fixed state of despondence ; 
 his head was rechned on his hand, which 
 rested on a copy of Ossian's poems, 
 whilst his eyes seemed fixed on vacuity, 
 so intense were his meditations, that he 
 did not perceive the intrusion of Allan, 
 until a smart tap on the shoulder awoke 
 him from his lethargic reverie. ^' What, 
 my friend," exclaimed Allan^ ''is it 
 thus I find you, with an air of melan- 
 choly, which I fear may prove conta- 
 gcous ; has the gentle Elinor yet pos- 
 session of your heart, or has she, as I 
 
 suspect,
 
 TH E MH 1 T E K N 1 G H T. 91 
 
 suspect, been supplanted by a legion of 
 blue devils ? 
 
 Carbery grasped his baud with the 
 warmtli of friendship, and assuming a 
 smile, '^ Still Allan," (said he,) '^ you 
 are the same gay and volatile creature ; 
 I was in hopes that some of the fair 
 belles of Ulster would make you sub- 
 scribe to my sentiments : but I have to 
 inform you of some interesting events 
 Avhich have occurred since your depar- 
 ture ; at present, however, 1 must post- 
 pone it ; nor can I delay any longer, the 
 pleasure of introducing you to my 
 sister." 
 
 Allan bowed and followed, but his 
 heart, which seemed to presage future 
 emotions, beat with unusual irregularity 
 
 as
 
 9^ THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 as he was conducted towards a salloon; 
 on approaching which, his steps were ar- 
 rested, and his senses charmed hy a most 
 seraphic voice, accompanying the fol- 
 lowing stanzas, with the most exquisite 
 touches on the harp : — 
 
 O Friendship I have felt thy power 
 Trill ev ry vein that warms my heart : 
 Thy presence gladdens evVy hour, 
 But Oh, what pains ! what pangs to part f 
 
 O Friendship ! thou art sure a treasure 
 Which vulgar souls can never know : 
 Thy ev'ry look imparts new pleasure j, 
 Thy ev'ry word can banish woe. 
 
 But what art thou, as yet a stranger 
 
 Love ! to my young breast unknown ! 
 Thro' all the world a lawless ranger. 
 
 Yet thou canst claim the world thine own. 
 
 I'm told thou hast both joy and anguish. 
 Beyond mild fnendship's soft controul : 
 
 1 long in all thy dreams to languish, 
 O take possession of my soul ! 
 
 7 Much
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 93 
 
 Much as x\llan had heard of the lovely 
 Ella, he now perceived the voice of 
 fame had been too weak, and even the 
 powers of his own luxuriant and ro- 
 mantic imagination too languid, to de- 
 pic:t those charms which seemed to rea- 
 lize the dreams of poetic fancy, and to 
 present an angel to his raptured view, 
 just descended from the ethereal regions 
 of immortality. She was of the middle 
 stature ; her eyes were black, but of a 
 tint so expressive, that no artist could 
 come near the original in imitativ^c sci- 
 ence : her auburn locks flowed in irre- 
 gular ringlets adown her ivory neck ; 
 her forehead was exquisitely delicate and 
 dignified ; her nose a little incUned to 
 the aquiline ; her mouth small, and her 
 lips like the luxuriant folds of a rich 
 coral ; her whole form was striking and 
 
 interesting
 
 54 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 interesting in the highest degree ; and 
 Allan, whilst he gazed on her with emo- 
 tions of ecstacy, respect, and admiration, 
 heaved a sigh which, Mdiispered to his 
 feelings, that he shonld soon do pe- 
 nance for his thoughtless raillery at the 
 situation of his friend, which sympathy 
 now taught him to respect. After a 
 short visit, in which Ella was particularly 
 struck with tlie fine figure, expressive 
 countenance, and elegantly interesting- 
 address of Allan ; they parted to pre- 
 pare f;jr tlie hanquet hour which was 
 approaching. 
 
 The banquet hour arrived, but Ella 
 looked in vain for Allan ; he dined with 
 his friend Tyrone in private, as he was 
 not yet publicly introduced, he could 
 not, according to tlie rules of established 
 
 etiquette,
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 95" 
 
 etiquette, appear at tlie table of the 
 chieftain of Glanville : Carbery was one 
 of the little party, and found himself re- 
 lieved, in some degree, from the cares 
 which oppressed him, by the vivacity 
 of his gaest of Ulster, and the presence 
 of his friend. The hours rolled on in 
 festive hilarity, until the castle bell an- 
 nounced the midnight watch. Tyrone 
 rose from his seat, and was conducted 
 to his chamber, whilst Carbery detained 
 his friend, to.whom, when all the attend- 
 ants had retired, he thus addressed him- 
 self: 
 
 *^ After your departure to the court of 
 Ulster, I found myself solitary indeed ; 
 the image of my adored Elinor was 
 €\'er present to the eye of an enamoured 
 imagination, and I frequently awoke 
 
 from
 
 SS THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 from tliose visions of delight in which I 
 too fondly indulged myself, to a sliarp 
 feeling of disappointment, and to a full 
 sense of the foolish though invincible 
 attachment and solicitude of a heart, 
 Vv'hich expelled reason, and had now no 
 friendly bosom to which it could con- 
 fide or conmiunicate its sorrows. In 
 this mood 1 strayed one evening, until 
 I approached, without design, the walls 
 of Desmond castle : those walls which 
 contained the object of my heart's warm 
 adoration. I was aware of my person 
 being known to its lord, since the acci- 
 <lent which first introduced me to his fair 
 daughter, and I was apprehensive lest 
 I should be recognized near a place where 
 my presence would create alarm ; yet, to 
 be so near the idol of my affections, and 
 not see her, was what my warm dispo- 
 sition
 
 TflE WHITE KNIGHT. 97 
 
 sition could not calmly submit to ; I 
 well knew the power of that all conquer- 
 ing metal, which can penetrate through 
 adamantine barriers, and was determined 
 to avail myself of its influence with some 
 of the domestics, in endeavouring to 
 convey some of tliose tender sentiments 
 with which my bosom was surcharged, to 
 the beloved object which inspired them> 
 Love, however, seemed to favour my 
 intent, without any secondary interpo- 
 sition, for, as I N\ith seeming negligence 
 surveyed the castle, and perambulated its 
 obdurate walls, I perceived a postern gate 
 lefta-jar, and, on approaching it with cau- 
 tious steps, perceived it was the entrance 
 to some pleasure grounds, over which, 
 liaving flung my sight with inquiring 
 avidity, I beheld — O fascinating pro- 
 spect ! the lovely Elinor herself, reclined 
 VOL. I, F in
 
 98 THE WHITE KNIGHT.. 
 
 in an arbour. My eyes were riveted to 
 the sacred spot, and I stood in speech- 
 less ecstacy, contemplating her forni of 
 matchless symmetry; at length, I deter- 
 mined to seize the golden opportunity, 
 and having first explored all the avenues 
 v/ith a jealous eye, with trembling steps 
 I approached her, and threw myself at 
 her feet : — but, on perceiving that the 
 angelic girl was in the downy arms of 
 sleep, and recollecting my situation, and 
 the alarm in which she was likely to be 
 thrown on awaking, and seeing me un- 
 expectedly in such a posture ; I deter- 
 mined to adopt more prudential mea- 
 sures, and having taken a pencil, in- 
 scribed on a tablet the following lines, 
 inspired by the enthusiasm of the mo- 
 inent. 
 
 You
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT, 99 
 
 You gentle spirits of the air. 
 
 Or you that haunt the wood-land shade i^ .^ ^ 
 
 O ! to this sacred spot repair. 
 
 And shield the lovely slumbering maid. 
 
 Haste — hither brinoj from Flora's bowV, 
 To grace my fair one's soft repose 5 
 Each breathing sweet, each opening flow'r — ■ 
 The tulip, jessamin and rose. 
 
 Let happy dreams possess her mind. 
 And oh, should I the subject prove ! 
 Let flatt'ring fancy then be kind. 
 And paint me worthy of her love. 
 
 CARBERY. 
 
 '"Having carefully deposited the tablet 
 in the folds of her bosom, 1 retired, and 
 concealed myself belli nd a clump of 
 trees, Avhere I had a full view of that 
 sense-enslaving object. 1?he shades of 
 night bad settled on the earth, and a 
 solemn stillness reigned around, when 
 the castle bell tolled, and the lovely girl 
 F 2 startins:
 
 100 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 starting at the sound, awoke — Alarmed 
 at the lateness of the hour, she hastily 
 arose, when, in the effort, the tablet 
 dropt from her bosom ; at that moment, 
 the moon having emerged from a sombre 
 cloud, favoured the wish of m}^ soul: I 
 saw her take up the tablet ; I s2l\/ her 
 peruse it by its silvery beams — I saw her 
 press it to her heart — Allan, my friend, 
 she loves me !— I followed her with my 
 enraptured eyes until her angel form 
 disappeared, as she hastily retired to- 
 wards the castle. I now directed my 
 course to Glanville, and scarcely knew 
 I arrived here, so much was my mind 
 occupied by pleasing reveries on the 
 Avay ; I found, however, by the silence 
 which prevailed, that the family had re- 
 tired to rest, and as I had a key to the 
 postern gate, 1 entered quietly, with the 
 
 intention
 
 THE AVHITE KNIGHT. lOl 
 
 intention of gaining my apartment with- 
 out disturbing any of the domestics; 
 but on entering, 1 found old Malcohii 
 waiting up forme in the hall — he started 
 at the grating of the hinges, and uttered 
 an exclamation of, '' In the name of 
 God, what are you?"— ^Astonished at the 
 question, and perceiving the poor old 
 fellow horror-struck, I approached, and 
 having caught hold of his hand — ^ ^ What 
 is the matter, Malcolm, why this ter- 
 ror?" — *^ Blessings on your sweet face ! 
 is it you ?" (said he. ) ^' O how glad 1 am 
 to see you !" 
 
 ^* Still at a loss to account for the im- 
 port of his words, 'Tray, Malcolm, what 
 has occasioned this alarm ? was you ap- 
 prehensive of any danger having befallen 
 me?" 
 
 V S " Why
 
 lOS THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 " Why in truth, my dear young mas- 
 ter," (still trembling, he replied,) *' I 
 was, sure enough, in some sort of a fret 
 about your honour, becase why — your 
 honour never let a poor sarvant lose liis 
 iiatral rest afore — but howsomever, I be 
 hugely glad your honour he's safe, for 
 as I'm a christain soul, I never thought 
 I'd see you agen ; I thought that verily 
 the fright would kill me." 
 
 ** What fright old man?" 
 
 '* Why in truth I is some bit afeared 
 to tell your honor in this old, lonely^ 
 huge hall; but, oh! did'nt your honor 
 hear nothing ?" 
 
 ''No," (said I,) '' except the wind, 
 which whistles along the battlements. 
 
 Come,
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. lOS 
 
 Goine-j Makolm, let us depart ft-prirV this 
 llr^aryliaU^ which is in your eyes so fuH 
 of horrors ; I suppose there is- a comfort- 
 able fire in my apartmpnti perhaps you 
 could tiiere inform me, M-ith more com* 
 posure, of the adventure which: so mu.c.h 
 occupies your attention.*' 
 
 ** Half unwilling to go before^ yet 
 more so to walk behind, he preceded 
 me in an oblique direction to my cham- 
 ber, where, having ordered him to be 
 seated, I collected the following parti- 
 culars from his story, which at first I 
 supposed to proceed from the efferves- 
 cence of a heated imagination : 
 
 ** He said, that having waited up for 
 
 me in the great hall, as the clock toll'd 
 
 one, he saw, by the light of his taper, a 
 
 F 4 figure
 
 1Q4 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 figure in silver armour dart across the 
 hall; and having ascended the staircase 
 leading to your apartment in the western 
 tower, he heard a door open, and shortly 
 after, saw the same figure return, sigh- 
 ing, and uttering, in an accent of distress, 
 ** What has become of him ?" He passed 
 again through the hall, and casting a 
 gTance at the shivering Malcolm, disap- 
 peared towards the postern gate, a little 
 before I entered; the poor old fellow 
 was trembling with terror, and on hear- 
 ing the noise I made when entering, con- 
 cluded that it was a second visit from 
 the ghost or white knight, as he termed 
 it, which occasioned that alarm in which 
 I found him. At first I was inclined to 
 ascribe all to the force of imagination, 
 wliich at that solitary hour, in so spaci- 
 ous a hall, where the feeble light of his 
 
 taper
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. lOj* 
 
 taper could shed but a sickly ray, had 
 conjured up this phantom to his view; 
 but on his repeating his story in a more 
 collected manner, I was led to imagine 
 all was not right at the castle, and that 
 we were made the prey of midnight 
 plunderers : so having enjoined Malcolm 
 to strict silence on the subject, I deter- 
 mined to watch next night, and pene- 
 trate into the mystery. ' 
 
 *^ The next night I retired as usual to 
 my chamber, and when the leaden scep- 
 tre of sleep lay heavy on the eye-lids of 
 the whole family, I descended with cau- 
 tious steps into the hall, where, having 
 taken post beneath the pale beams of the 
 moon, in a corner where I hoped to es- 
 cape observation, I remained for some 
 timeinsuspence and anxious expectation, 
 r 5 until
 
 106 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 until the castle bell had tolled the mid- 
 night hour ; when, on a sudden, I heard 
 a noise towards the postern gate, and a 
 tall figure, completely clad in white 
 armour, stalked across the hall; I marked 
 it by the moonlight which gleamed upon 
 its arms, as it ascended the staircase 
 which led to your apartment, I heard a 
 door open, and soon saw it return, when 
 it sighed heavily, and vanished towards 
 the postta-^ from my view. 
 
 *' At first, I had determined to rush on 
 it with my sword, but on recollecting 
 that I could not be a match for a person 
 in complete armour, prudence restrained 
 me : the short stay which it made also 
 convinced me that plunder could not be 
 its motive ; and its hollow and heavy 
 sighs left me at a loss what to conjecture 
 
 on
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 107 
 
 on the occasion : my reason rejected any 
 idea of supernatural agency, and yet the 
 strange appearance of the figure, and its 
 mj^sterious midnight visit, ahnost in- 
 duced me to suppose it was not mortal. 
 I bhish when I confess to you, I was 
 seized with an awe bordering' on terror, 
 and that the sound of any friendly voice 
 would not then have been disagreeable 
 to me : however, one circumstance I am 
 assured of, both from Malcolm's story, 
 and my own observations, that you was 
 the object of its solicitude. 
 
 *' Itisstrange indeed'', said Allan; ''but 
 the morning is now breaking in upon us, 
 let us retire to repose; we must inquire 
 further into this affair."' 
 
 Each retired to his apartment, indulg- 
 r 6 ing
 
 108 THE WIUTE KNIGHT. 
 
 ing his reflections on the occasion. In 
 the mind of Allan, thought succeeded 
 thought, almost to infinity ; but his con- 
 clusions served only to render his mind 
 uneasy, for reason could not sanction any 
 of the wild ideas which the circumstance 
 gave birth to.
 
 THE WHITE KKIGHT. 109 
 
 CHAP. VI r. 
 
 « What tho' the field he lost, 
 " All is not loft ! th' unconquerable will 
 « And ftudy of revenge." Milton, 
 
 jL HE rosy fingers of the morn had drawn 
 back the curtains of tlie East, disclosing 
 the infant day to the rejoicing counte- 
 nance of reviving nature ; when the 
 neighing of fiery steeds, the glare of ar- 
 mour, and the various plumage and de- 
 vices of heroes emulous of fame, pre- 
 sented a splendid and noble spectacle on 
 the level plain before the western tow^ers 
 of the castle. 
 
 The chieftain of Glanville had now 
 riseu; and partaking of his morning re- 
 past
 
 no THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 pail, M^as attended by his dependent 
 chiefs and vassals to the great hall, 
 where the heir of Ulster was to be intro- 
 duced in form : and being seated in flie 
 hereditary chair, the folding doors were 
 thrown open, an lierald proclaimed his 
 titles, and the young Tyrone was intro- 
 duced in the following order, according 
 to the custom of the times. 
 
 First, an herald bearing an olive 
 branch as the symbol of peace, pro- 
 claimed Neil O'Neil of Ulster, chieftain 
 of Tyrone. Next, were two pages bear- 
 ins; P'olden urns on a crimson cushion 
 containing presents of' immense value; 
 next was the banner-bearer with the 
 arms of Ulster : the young Lord follow- 
 ed, supported by the noble Carbery and 
 graceful Allan ; his robe was of purple 
 
 and
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. Ill 
 
 and gold ; on his head he wore a coronet 
 richly ornamented with brilliants and 
 snow-white plumes ; he advanced to- 
 wards the chair of state, took his coro- 
 net from his brow, knelt, and presented 
 a letter of friendship from his illuftrious 
 sire. Glanville raised him by the hand, 
 and received him in the most flatterins: 
 manner ; and the herald having hung up 
 his banner in the hall, and proclaimed 
 friendship between the two noble houses, 
 the procession retired with the same for- 
 mality, and each prepared for the ap- 
 proaching tournament. 
 
 The lovely Ella had been a witness of 
 the ceremony from a gallery which over- 
 looked the hall; but her eyes were inat- 
 tentive to the gaudy scene, except what 
 
 related
 
 112 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 related to the manly grace and iaterest- 
 ing form of Allan. 
 
 In a short time the plain was crowded 
 with a gallant cavalcade, and whilst the 
 chieftain and his angelic daughter, at- 
 tended hy the ladies of the court, and 
 their attendants, took their seats in a 
 balcony, which commanded a most ex- 
 tensive and delightful view, including 
 the scene of action ; a flourish of trum- 
 pets proclaimed, that the ground was 
 clear, and that the combatants may 
 enter. 
 
 The scene of action was an extensive 
 area, on the banks of the Avonmore, 
 and immediatelv under the western tur- 
 rets of the castle, where the chieftain 
 
 and
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 113 
 
 and his fair daughter were seated. On 
 the north and south, the rising hills, co- 
 vered with all the luxuriant verdure of 
 the season, rose in varying shades, and 
 div^ersified tints to the enraptured view ; 
 towards the ease the winding of the 
 river, with an extensive range of battle- 
 ments, formed a large segment of a cir- 
 cle ; whilst the western plain, bounded 
 by the gigantic mount Hillary, gave a 
 grand finish to one of the most noble 
 amphitheatres that ever did honour to 
 the exquisite hand of Nature, or the 
 scientific aids of Art. 
 
 The lines were now enclosed, and the 
 gates of the circus thrown open. The 
 first that entered the lists, on a grey 
 charger, was the son of Ulster ; his ar- 
 mour was of burnished gold ; his helm of 
 
 the
 
 U4 THE-.WinT£ KXIGHT. 
 
 the same metal, but polished and over- 
 shadowed witha profusion of snow white 
 plumage; the device of his shield was a 
 rising sun, and his motto, ** I aspire." 
 
 At tlie opposite side of the circus en- 
 tered a knight in sable armour ; his raven 
 plumes overhung his casque of polished 
 steel ; his steed was a jet black, and on 
 his shield a sun overcast w^ith clouds ; 
 his motto, ^^ The colour of my fate." 
 
 The trumpet charge was now sounded, 
 and each combatant having bowed to 
 the balcony, the contest Avas com- 
 menced with spirit. The success was 
 dubious, and each displayed the most 
 admirable dexterity, united with a per- 
 fect knowledge of arms : at lengtli the 
 Prince of Ulster had nearly unhorsed 
 
 his
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 115 
 
 his assailant by a furious cliarge, but 
 the violence of his effort afforded his ac- 
 tive adversary an opportunity of return- 
 ing the salute with such swiftness, that 
 the Ultonian, unable to resume his posi- 
 tion or his guard, was thrown to the 
 earth; and his courser having taken 
 fright, darted furiously across the cir- 
 cus, and bounding over the barriers, 
 scoured along the plain. The knight of 
 the sable plume immediately alighted 
 from his horse, and raising the discom- 
 fited chief, who seemed much disabled 
 by his fall, he assisted him with polite 
 attention to the bounds of the circus, 
 where he was received by his attendants, 
 and conducted to his apartments in the 
 castle ; muttering execrations against 
 his unknown adversary, and overwhelm^' 
 ed with shame. 
 
 Six
 
 116 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 Six candidates for fame were now suc- 
 cessively introduced, and worsted by the 
 sable hero ; a seventh was preparing to 
 enter, when the whole company with 
 one voice called out for the retreat, un^ 
 willing to expose him, fatigued as he 
 was, to the danger of a defeat. The re- 
 treat w^as sounded ; he rode up to the 
 balcony, received from the fair hand of 
 the fascinating Ella, a purple sash, em- 
 broidered with gold, as the reward of 
 victory; which having flung with grace- 
 ful negligence across his shoulder, he 
 made a respectful obeisance, and rode 
 off amidst the applauding shouts of the 
 spectators. 
 
 The charge was again sounded, and 
 the noble Carbery entered the lists on a 
 cream-coloured charger, which proudly 
 
 pawed
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 117 
 
 pawed the ground ; his armour was of 
 fine-wrought silver, richly enamelled ; 
 his device, Hope on a rock, pointing to 
 a star which slione among many with 
 superior brilliancy ; in the back ground 
 \V3LS a heart transfixed ; his motto, 
 ** Hope chears the way." 
 
 He was soon opposed by an unknown 
 knight in green armour, with plumes of 
 the same colour : on a crimson sash was 
 embroidered in characters of gold, the 
 name of ^'Elinor of Desmond ;" on his 
 shield was depicted an hj-men at thd al- 
 tar MMth his lighted torch ; his motto, 
 '* Who dares dispute my claim?" 
 
 Ardent as the bosom of Carbery was 
 to signalize himself before the appear- 
 ance of his opponent, yet how far short 
 
 did
 
 lis THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 did it come of those emotions which 
 now shook his frame, or tliat enthusiasm 
 with which he panted for the contest, 
 on perceiving that his love and his ho- 
 nour were equally concerned. He had 
 now before him, perhaps, a dangerous 
 rival, and, in the anticipated triumph of 
 his soul, he could not restrain the wish 
 of having the idol of his affections a 
 witness of the scene, which he fondly 
 hoped would redound to his honour and 
 the confusion of his antagonist. 
 
 The second trumpet was sounded, and 
 with a horrible crasli the combat was 
 begun; they fought with the fury of in- 
 veterate foes, not as chieftains emulous 
 of fame alone, but urged by thirst of 
 blqocl. Tl^q spectators were astonished 
 at the impetuous rage of the contending 
 
 „, 8 chiefs,
 
 THE WiUTE KN^IGHT. 1]9 
 
 chiefs, and the lord of Glanville felt un- 
 easy for the event— -his son was in dan- 
 ger, and both seemed actuated by some 
 unaccountable phrensy ; he was just 
 going to order the retreat when the 
 spear of Carbeiy shivered on the shield 
 of his adversary, and left him exposed to 
 an unerring stroke which brought him 
 to the earth : at tliat instant, as the sa- 
 vage knight, contrary to all the laws of 
 chivalry, was about to repeat his blow, 
 a generous youth darted into the circus, 
 rushed beneath the impending stroke, 
 and received the point of his lance in 
 his extended arm. A burst of horror 
 resounded from the whole assembly ; 
 the lovely Ella swooned in the balcony^ 
 and the ferocious stranger seeing the 
 danger he was exposed to, put spurs to 
 his spirited steed, and with difficulty es- 
 
 caped
 
 120 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 caped the indignant fury of the multi- 
 tude, many of M'hom pursued him for a 
 considerable time. 
 
 Glanville now entered the circus, 
 anxious for liis son and the generous 
 and spirited youth who interposed to 
 save his hfe ; Carbery had recovered 
 from the shock occasioned by his fall, 
 and was employed with grateful solici- 
 tude in administering assistance to the 
 gallant stranger; the blood streamed 
 copiously from the wound, and the un- 
 known youth manifesting a desire to 
 conceal his face, the blood was commu- 
 nicated to, and disfigured it. Allan now 
 joined the group, and perceiving his 
 embarrassment, requested that tlie crowd 
 may retire, and with Carbery supported 
 him to an apartment in the castle, and 
 
 sent
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. ISl 
 
 sent for medical assistance. The soul 
 of Carbery was composed of the noblest 
 senti-ments; and, struck Math the un- 
 paralleled generosity of the action, his 
 desire to know to whom he owed his safe* 
 ty, could only be exceeded by his anxiety 
 for the safety of his preserver ; — but what 
 language can depict his surprize, his ad- 
 miration, his tenderness, and his dis- 
 tress, when he found in the person of 
 his deliverer the idol of his soul — 'twas 
 ' FMnor of Desmond !" 
 
 Carbery flung himself at her ^Q^t, and 
 was giving vent to the overflowing gra- 
 titude and tenderness of his heart in the 
 most impassioned accents, when Allan 
 interrupted him with a seasonable re- 
 mark. — "What, my friend, is it thus 
 
 VOL. I. G you
 
 11'2 THE WHITE KNICaiT. 
 
 you employ moments of such conse- 
 quence? — Consider what depends on 
 the secrecy or publicity of this affair. " 
 
 ** A tenfold curse on family feuds !" 
 exclaimed the impassioned Carbery, 
 *^ why am I denied the pleasure of pre- 
 senting to my father the idol of my 
 heart, the preserver of my existence?'' 
 
 *^ Alas 1" said the blushing Elinor, 
 *' what will become of me ? In what a 
 situation am I placed ? — My father ! 
 how shall I meet my father?" 
 
 Every effort of tenderest attention, 
 every sentiment of persuasive condo- 
 lence was now applied by the enamoured 
 son of Glanville, to sooth the timid ob- 
 ject
 
 THE WHITE KKIGHT. 12^ 
 
 jcct of his affections ; he re-affured her, 
 that every precaution should be taken 
 to insure secrecy. 
 
 ''Two of my female servants attended 
 me in disguise," said EHnor ; '* perhaps 
 they now hnger about the castle ; how 
 cliearing, how consoling would their 
 presence be !'* 
 
 Allan flew at the mention of the cir- 
 cumstance, and in a short time intro- 
 duced two chubby youths, vrho, not- 
 Avithstanding the transformation of 
 dress, betrayed their sex by palpitating 
 hearts and trembling limbs. ^'Oh my 
 dear lady," said each, as she flew to- 
 wards the bleeding heroine, ''what a 
 dire misfortune is this!" and sobbing 
 audibly, bathed her wound with their 
 e 2 tears,
 
 1^4 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 tears, whilst Carbery Iiung over her, 
 •vvith all the nihigled passions of grief, 
 tenderness, and admiration, depicted in 
 his expressive countenance. Allan alone 
 retained presence of mind sufficient to 
 bring them to some degree of compo- 
 sure and order ; for the foot of the vene- 
 rable bard was heard on the stair- case, 
 hastening to administer medical assist- 
 ance; (for tliose sacred characters were 
 at once the physicians, counsellors, and 
 musicians of the age:) he entered the 
 apartment, and having examined the 
 wound, to the inexpressible delight of all 
 present, declared it to be of trivial conse- 
 quence, and that there was no danger 
 to be apprehended ; but on proceeding 
 to dress it, he perceived the heaving of 
 her bosom, and the agitation of her 
 >vhole frame, which she could not con- 
 ceal"
 
 THE WHITE KXIGHT. 19.5 
 
 ceal." — '* I cannot bs deceived," said 
 the bard, *^ this surely is a female." 
 The confusion of the whole party, and 
 her increased agitation, confirmed him 
 in his conjecture. He was now enjoin- 
 ed secrecy, and, having passed his in- 
 violable word to that purport, AV'as in-r 
 fonned of the whole transaction, and 
 what cause it was attributed to. Elinor 
 -vvas overwhelmed with confusion, and 
 the blushes which suffused her glowing 
 countenance, sufficiently declared the 
 delicate sensations which possessed her 
 bosom. 
 
 J.J Jhe minstrel shook his head ; *' I 
 fear," (he exclaimed, ; on considering 
 her sex, that the agitation of her spirits 
 may produce bad effects." Having 
 dressed her aim, and given some simples 
 G 3 to
 
 12d THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 to her attendants, with directions for 
 their apphcation, he recommended most 
 fames tly to her, to return with expedi- 
 tion to her father's castlCj and immedi- 
 ivtely confine herself to her chamber for 
 a. few days. — Some refreshments were 
 now produced, of which being prevailed 
 upon to partake, she found her spirits in 
 a great measure restored, and her person 
 sufficiently composed to proceed to Des* 
 mond, whither Carbery and his friend 
 with privacy conveyed her ; and having 
 taken an affecting leave, at a short dis- 
 tance from the castle, with hopes of soon 
 meeting under more propitious circum- 
 stances—they parted. Elinor, by the 
 garden door, having reached her apart- 
 ment unperceived, and our young 
 friends with expedition returning to 
 Glanville, apprehensive of being missed, 
 
 and
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 12/ 
 
 and anxious to avoid any impertinent 
 curiosity. 
 
 The hospitable board was now spread 
 in the hall of Glanville, the old chief- 
 tain looked in vain for the preserver of 
 his son, and the numerous guests felt 
 disappointed, when informed that the 
 gallant youth had departed, no one 
 knew whither ; but general satisfaction 
 succeeded on being assured that the 
 wound was not dangerous. The various 
 events of the day were next recapitu- 
 lated ; no one could form a conjecture 
 respecting the savage knight in the 
 green armour; the hero of the raven 
 plume was as much a mystery. Ella 
 looked in vain for the mark of distinc- 
 tion she had bestowed ; she cast an in- 
 quisitive glance at Allan, but could not 
 G 4 trace
 
 128 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 trace a satisfactory answer 4n his coan- 
 tenance. The song of the bard, accom.- 
 panied by the sweet sounds of the harp, 
 now drev/ forth bursts of applause ; the 
 exhilarating goblet was pushed round ; 
 the mellow draughts, with their atten- 
 dants, wit and merriment, ruled the fes> 
 tive hours, until midnight, with its olii- 
 cioas tongue, proclaimed a cessation; 
 when the company retired each to his 
 repose. 
 
 CHAP.
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. IC9 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 an inhuman wretch 
 
 Uncapable of pity, void and empty 
 
 From any dram of mercy." ^^ch. 
 
 J±T the castle of Desmond all was con- 
 fusion and alarm, Elinor was in a high 
 fever : the agitation of her spirits, the 
 loss of blood, and the extraordinary in. 
 cidents of the preceding day, had affect- 
 ed botJi her body and mind, in a man- 
 ner wliich called forth all the solicitude 
 of paternal feeling, and all tlie assiduity 
 of medical skill. In vain did the anxi^ 
 ous parent endeavour to account for hcv 
 sudden indisposition ; in vain did he 
 question her attendants ; fear and fideli- 
 ty had chained the tongues of the only 
 G 5 persons
 
 130 THE AVHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 persons who had it in their power to in- 
 form him ; but his impatience and as- 
 tonishment were extreme, when, on her 
 being seized with a fainting fit, in his 
 presence, he perceived, as some super- 
 fluous clothes were removed, a bandage 
 on her arni;, and spots of blood ! 
 
 The chieftain of Dromore had now 
 arrived on a visit of condolence, and 
 was extravagant in his professions of 
 concern at the indisposition of the lady 
 Elinor ; but when Desmond mentioned 
 the wound in her arm, his whole frame 
 was convulsed, his lips quivered, his 
 Yoice faultered, and his countenance 
 changed to a livid paleness. 
 
 " A wound, say you, my lord ?" 
 
 •* Yes,"
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. ISt 
 
 " Yes/' replied DesmoncL 
 
 *' And in the arm too?'' 
 
 His answer was in the affirmative. 
 
 He paced the apartment with the ut- 
 most agitation, whilst Desmond survey- 
 ed him with silent amazement, then 
 abruptly asked, ^' Was the lady Elinor 
 from the castle yesterday ?" 
 
 ** Not to my knowledge," replied her 
 father." 
 
 *' Nor to mine I" exclaimed Theresa, 
 (who observed the emotions of Gerald 
 with trembling and jealous solicitude,) 
 but I shall go and ask her to explain 
 the mystery. " 
 
 6 6 '' By
 
 132 THE WHITK KNIGHT. 
 
 " By no means, madaiiiV' ^aid the 
 bard who attended, (for every Boble 
 family had one of that reverend order,) 
 '^ bv no means, such interrosratories 
 mav be attended bv the worst conse- 
 quences, by recaUing, perhaps, ideas of 
 terror, and scenes which could not be 
 retraced without emotions tending to 
 increase the fever which already preys 
 upon her; — leave her to repose." 
 
 This prudent counsel was adopted; 
 meantime lord Desmond examined each 
 of the domestics, separately, and made 
 every effort, to no purpose, to unravel 
 the mystery attending this event. 
 
 '* 'Tis strange, indeed !" said Gerald, 
 
 biting his lip. 
 
 Tis
 
 THE WHITE KKIGIIT. 133 
 
 ^^Tis wGnderfully mysterious !" re- 
 plied Desmond. 
 
 *^0 'tis a most marvellous misfortune !'' 
 exclaimed Theresa, '' but the vvill of 
 the Lord be done." 
 
 Gerald at length took leave, express- 
 ing his intention of calling on the mor- 
 row, when he hoped to find the lady 
 Elinor much recovered : — and then in a 
 gloomy mood, he directed his cour-^e to 
 liis solitary castle. 
 
 It may be necessary here to account 
 for some of the events of the preceding 
 day. 
 
 Oil its having been proclaimed through 
 the surrounding districts, that a splendid 
 
 tournament 
 7
 
 IS-i THE WHITE KXIGHT. 
 
 tournament was to be exhibited at Glan- 
 ville castle, in consequence of the return 
 of the chieftain's daughter, Gerald (who 
 by some unlucky accident had found 
 the tablet on Avhich the tender lines 
 and name of Carbery vvere inscribed, 
 and which he had deposited in the bosom 
 of Elinor,) formed the resolution of 
 availing himself of this circumstance 
 to accomplish a most infernal purpose ; 
 and, having by artful means gained a 
 knowledge of the arms and device hf 
 which the son of Glanville was to be 
 distinguished, he determined to enter 
 the lists against him ; and by some 
 stroke of treachery, which might after- 
 wards bear the interpretation of acci- 
 dent, he proposed to rid himself of so 
 formidable a rival. 
 
 Elinor
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 155 
 
 Elinor had also heard of the approach- 
 ins^ tournament, and excited as well by 
 curiosity, as by a desire of seeing the 
 generous youth,, to whose kind attention 
 she was so much indebted, and whose 
 form and interesting manners had left 
 so deep and so warm an impression on 
 her heart ; and sensible that it would be 
 madness to ask her father's permission 
 to be present at the sports of his enemy^ 
 had recourse to the expedient of provid- 
 ing male attire for herself and two at- 
 tendants, and, thus disguised, to gratify 
 her wish. She had scarcely arrived at 
 Glanville, when the cavalcade passed 
 her, and Carbery accidentally taking off 
 his casque, she recognized his features : 
 from that moment her whole attention 
 was riveted to the graceful youth ; she 
 i-emarked the device and motto of his 
 
 shield ;
 
 136 THE WHITE KNIGJIT. 
 
 shield; her flattering and, enarooured 
 heart suggested an allusion to herself: 
 with what various emotions then did she 
 perceive him enter the, lists, with what 
 feelings was she agitated, on seeing him 
 exposed defenceless to the fury of his 
 assailant ; hut Avhen she sav/ the fatal 
 stroke aimed at a life so much dearer to 
 her than her own existence, love tri^ 
 umphed over every prudential consider- 
 ation ; she rushed in, she interposed, 
 she saved it. Ah ! little did she then ima- 
 gine it was Gerald gave the blow ; how 
 Ijttle did she know it was aimed at Elinor 
 of Desmond I 
 
 The dreary mansion of Dromore was 
 nov/ rendered doubly gloomy by the 
 dark designing looks of its lord ; his 
 countenance was impressed with ilend- 
 
 like
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 1 S7 
 
 like characters : w^hen, on his return, he 
 reth'ed to Iiis closet, and hastily sent for 
 Connel, the agent and the confidant of 
 his crimes. The obsequious ruffian soon 
 appeared, and perceiving, by the lower- 
 ing aspect of Gerald, that all was not 
 as he wished, with eagerness and aifected 
 tenderness demanded, *' What ails my 
 lord ? are you not well ? your looks alarm 
 me!" 
 
 *' Oh, Connel i" said the gloomy chief, 
 '* my bosom is torn with conflicting pas- 
 sions : love, jealousy, ambition, and re- 
 venge, — each rules in its turn my dis- 
 tracted breast. — Connel, I have tried 
 thee, 1 have found thee faithful, and in 
 thy bosom I will repose a secret on which 
 my life, my property, my love, and, vs'hat 
 is dearer than all, my revenge, de- 
 pends." 
 
 '' Speak,
 
 138 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 * ' Speak, my good lord ! " said the hoary 
 villain, — ^^ speak ! name but your enemy, 
 that my poniard may drink his blood ; 
 you know it never mistook its errand 
 ^hen your cause demanded it." 
 
 . Gerald gave an involuntary start, but 
 ;80on recovering himself, ''yes, Connel, 
 thy services have been great and numer- 
 ous ; but know my friend, that one 
 achievement still remains for thee, — but 
 this once, and ever more we shall be 
 brothers." 
 
 *^ Speak but thy will, my lord," said 
 the sanguinary wretch, '' speak but the 
 word (half drawing his poniard), and 
 Connel is ready." 
 
 '' Attend then," said Gerald, '' it has 
 
 been
 
 THB WHITE KNIGHT, )39 
 
 been for some time past the favourite 
 object of my heart, to render myself 
 agreeable to the fair daughter of Des- 
 mond : her noble father has distinguished 
 me by many testimonies of confidence, 
 and acts of polite attention : and though 
 I could never summon up resolution 
 enough to make a formal proposal, well 
 knowing the difficulties which disparity 
 of age and other circumstances opposed 
 to ray wishes ; yet I was led to hope, 
 that by devotion to the interests of his 
 house, I may so far become master of 
 the earl's mind as to conquer his preju- 
 dices, and by flattering and persevering 
 attentions, I may even gain the affec- 
 tions of a young lady, who, I imagined, 
 M^as an entire stransfer to the rest of the 
 world, and of course would be more sub- 
 ject to the influence of my politic arts. 
 
 I sue-
 
 140 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 I succ^eeded, as a preliminary step, in my 
 endeavours to acquire the good opinion 
 of her aunt, Theresa, and when I con- 
 chid ed tliat she was sufficiently devoted 
 to my interests, was about to confide to 
 her tlie secret of my passion, and to im- 
 plore her good offices iu my behalf, when, 
 to my vexation and astonishment, I 
 found that she had mistaken all my politic 
 attentions, as tributes of regard to her 
 ov/n shrivelled person ; and considered 
 me in reality a professed admirer. I 
 knew human nature too well to exipose 
 myself, by undeceiving her, to the. most 
 inveterate of all enmities,: that of <t^e' 
 wounded pride and slighted love of wo-^^ 
 man. I also was aware of theinecessity' 
 of keeping on good tei:ms with the oldi 
 dotard, to insure me at.jilltimes.a corilial 
 reception at the castle, and consequently i 
 . i- an
 
 THE WHITE KXIGHT. 141 
 
 an opportunity of being near the object 
 of my affections ; "with the hope of tgw- 
 deling myself necessary to her father, 
 and hv constant assiduities asfreeable to 
 herself. But, Connel, a boy^ a cursed 
 boy, has interposed, and blasted all my 
 purposes. " 
 
 *' Say not so, my lord ; where can he 
 be found .^ speak but his name, and your 
 rival sleeps for ever." 
 
 ** Ha!" said Gerald, half suppressing 
 his emotions, and muttering to himself, 
 ** must there be more blood r" then again 
 ^€suming his address, *^ thou knowest, 
 Connel, that the lovely Elinor is sole 
 heiress to the estates of Desmond : what 
 an object of ambition, as well as of love 1 
 Her noble sire is now fast declining to 
 
 the
 
 14^ THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 the tomb of his ancestors, and I should 
 soon be enabled to reward youT fidelity 
 and services, in a princely manner, and 
 equal to your deserts." 
 
 ** Get the lady first, my lord,'* said 
 the ferocious fiend, with a malicious 
 smile, ^^ leave the rest to me; her father 
 shall not long keep you out of posses- 
 sion.'* 
 
 Gerald understood the hint, and, ruf- 
 fian-liearted as he was, yet he felt 
 astounded at such proofs of consummate 
 and superior villany. 
 
 *' It must not be so, my friend," he 
 muttered with a tremulous accent ; ** we 
 must proceed, if possible, without blood." 
 
 ' ' How 
 8
 
 THE WttlTE KNIGHT. 143 
 
 *' How diicken -hearted you are grown, 
 my lord ! remember you not with what 
 manly spirit, with what glorious rage, 
 you plunged your dagger into Conrad's 
 breast? that was a noble deed 1" 
 
 *' Name it not again," said Gerald, 
 '* Oh, name it not for worlds ! — Hark ! 
 heard you not a noise ? Methinks I see 
 his silver armour gleam — Oh, Connel 1" 
 
 *' IVIy lord, 'tis all imagination, be 
 composed ; why this emotion for a deed 
 long past? have not twenty years of 
 uninterrupted enjoyment convinced you 
 that the dead are feeble foes, and tell no 
 tales? — then be a man, come to the point, 
 and give me your instructions." 
 
 *' Know then," (said Gerald, collect- 
 ing
 
 144 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 ing himself,) ^' that the son of lord 
 Glanville is my rival ; for on a tablet 
 whlcli I saw drop from Elinor's self, his 
 name, his accursed name, was subscribed 
 to the lines of tenderness." 
 
 *'I'll stab him to the heart," (said 
 Connel, grasping the hilt of his dag- 
 ger.) 
 
 '^ Nay, precaution is necessar}^" said 
 his gloomy lord ; *' 1 thought to dis- 
 patch him at a tournament : but, dis- 
 traction ! he was saved from my im- 
 pending stroke by a stranger youth, and 
 much my heart suspects it was Elinor in 
 disguise, that saved him." 
 
 *' That's strange indeed, my lord !" 
 
 '' As
 
 THE WHITE KXJGHT. 145 
 
 '^ As true as strange," said Gerald; 
 *^ but hast thou not heard, that an en- 
 mity of long and rancorous nature has 
 been hereditary between the houses of 
 Glanville and Desmond ? This tablet I 
 purpose to shew her father, and work 
 upon his fears, his pride, and his resent- 
 ment ; and when I have persuaded him 
 tliat this striplins: means to carry off his 
 daughter, I shall find means to bring 
 her off myself; this castle shall be her 
 prison 'till she crov»"ns my love." 
 
 *' Weil imagined, my lord ; but must 
 that spruce intruder on your prospects 
 pass un chastised, unheeded ?" 
 
 '' That is to be your portion ; it will 
 require courage and dexterity to execute 
 my plan : you must contrive to make 
 
 VOL. I. H him
 
 146 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 liim disappear on the same clay that I 
 convey the daughter of Desmond liither ; 
 it will then be evident to her friends 
 that he has been the ravishcr : m.ean- 
 time you must not shed his blood, but 
 convey him to the dungeons of this 
 castle, that my revenge may be severer 
 than death ; there he shall lie, and be 
 brought forth occasionally, as an object 
 of utter derision, or a witness of my 
 itJvellings in the arms of his mistress." 
 
 ** O that will be a great revenge," 
 said Connel; '' I anticipate the music 
 of his groans : — shall I place him in the 
 dungeon where Conrad died?" 
 
 ** O mention not that name again; 
 it has horror in its sound ! 
 
 Be
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 147 
 
 " Be it so, my lord ; I shall await your 
 orders. " 
 
 ** By to-morrow*s setting sun you 
 shall be acquainted with my resolves ; 
 till then, adieu!'' 
 
 The gloomy Gerald then retired to 
 his apartment, meditating dark designs ; 
 whilst the savage Connel sought his 
 chamber, sunk upon his pillow, and 
 ckeamt of murder. 
 
 H 2 CHAP,
 
 148 THE -nHITE KXIGHT. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 " He turns the sport to pain — aaid in the speed 
 *' Of pleasure, meditates on hostile deed." 
 
 JL YRONE had now recovered from the 
 contusion he had received at the tour- 
 nament, and pleasure began again to 
 expand her silken wings around the man- 
 sion of O'Calaghan : the weather was 
 favourable for sports of every descrip- 
 tion, and the fantastic toe was seen to 
 beat the earth until the moon had shed 
 her silvery light upon the plain ; the brisk 
 movements of the harper had ceased, 
 und the peasantry retired to their ham- 
 lets, to make way on the green for their 
 3 fairy
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 1^9 
 
 fairy successors. Again, with the dawn- 
 ing day, new pastimes were begun, and 
 a lengthened festival spread joy and 
 hilarity through the whole territory. 
 
 The chieftain now wished his vassal 
 to resume their several occupations, and, 
 as a concluding entertainment, proposed 
 a boat-race on the Avonmore. 
 
 The appointed hour arrived, and all 
 nature seemed to favour the splendour 
 of the spectacle : not a cloud vras to be 
 seen in the blue expanse of the fini a- 
 ment ; and the gentle zephyr scarcely 
 ruffled the smooth bosom of the river : 
 the vercUu'e of the fields, the luxuriance 
 of the growing crops, the majestic fo- 
 liage of the \\oodlands, with the mean- 
 derings of the Avonmore, from whose 
 H 3 p. acid
 
 150 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 placid stream a manifold reflection of 
 the orb of day dazzled the sight ; tlie 
 concourse of spectators, the painted 
 barges, and their party-coloured ro^^'ers, 
 gave to the whole scene a magnificent 
 and romantic effect, impressing on the 
 mind sentiments, and imparting to tlie 
 heart sensa'fions the most cheerful ami 
 delightful. 
 
 The chieftain, his angelic daughter, 
 and attendants, had taken their seats on 
 one of the turrets of the castle, from 
 whence a flag was displayed, and which 
 was to be the goal of victory. The can- 
 didates for fame, Tyrone, Carbery, aiKl 
 Allan, had taken their positions, each in 
 a barge, with six sturdy rowers. The 
 colour of Tyrone was scarlet, of Carbery 
 blue, and of Alhui 'purple : over his 
 
 shoulder
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 15! 
 
 slioiirder was flung the sash which Ella 
 had bestowed on him at tlie tournament ; 
 and now Tyrone perceived his successfuil 
 opponent, and Ella recognised her cham- 
 pion. 
 
 The breast of tlic Ultonian v/as lireel 
 with the most malignant species of en- 
 mity; he meditated the wcist designs 
 against his rival; for he liad perceived 
 those looks of tenderness wliich were so 
 often interchanged between tlie fair 
 hope of Glanville, and his graceful ad- 
 versary ; and, ferocious as was his heart, 
 it was not proof against the magic of her 
 fascinating eyes, whose glances were 
 directed towards a rival, v>hich stung 
 him with rage, jealousy, and revenge. 
 
 The signal was now given, and the 
 H i barae
 
 152 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 barge steered by the prince of Ulster, 
 liad soon the start by a considerable dis- 
 tance ; C'arbery came next, and last came 
 Allan, who knew the length of the race, 
 giving directions to his rowers to spare 
 their strength, whilst he saw those of the 
 rival candidates straining every nerve 
 from the commencement. When they 
 had arrived midway, he perceived the 
 adverse rowers begin to lag, and then 
 addressing his own, by liis voice which 
 they were accustomed to hear Avith plea- 
 sure, and obey with alacrity, he animated 
 them with fresh spiiits, and inspired them 
 with renewed vigour. He pressed hard 
 npon the stern of Carbery, and now he 
 passed him with a smile ; the prince of 
 Ulster saw him fast approaching, and iu 
 vain endeavoured to animate his men ; 
 they were exhausted. The ardent Allan 
 
 iiojv
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. ISS 
 
 now closed upon his rival, and now he 
 was along-side ; his vigorous roMTrs were 
 collecting all their powers, and prepar- 
 ins: to o'et a head with one bold effort; 
 when the Ultonian, mad with the idea of 
 being a second time defeated in the 
 sight of his mistress, by the man he 
 esteemed his rival in her affections, fu- 
 riously ran his barge across that of Allan, 
 and both were overset. The M'hole party, 
 however, gained the nearest bank of the 
 river, without experiencing any injury, 
 excepting that of a complete wetting. 
 The tender Ella screamed at the first 
 view of the disaster, and a momentary 
 anger Hushed on the cheek of lord Glan- 
 ville ; but, on seeing all safe, pleasure 
 once more brightened up his counte- 
 nance, as he dropped the flag which gave 
 his son the victory. 
 
 H 5 The
 
 ]5i THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 The games were now concluded, and 
 the crowd of spectators dispersed ; v/hil&t 
 the riv^als returned to the castle dripping 
 wet. Allan complimented his friend on 
 his victory, which the other said he had 
 no claim to, having obtained it without 
 a competitor ; whilst Tyrone was en- 
 deavouring to give the name of accident 
 to his treachery, in which his auditors 
 seemingly acquiesced, though possessed 
 of the opposite opinion. 
 
 From this moment the prince of Ul'^ 
 ster cherished the most deadly hatred 
 against his rival; and completely to 
 blast his prospects, or his hopes in re- 
 spect to Ella, determined to make a 
 formal proposal for her hand : he Av^eR 
 knew that Glanville would with ardour 
 embrace an offer, at once so advantage- 
 ous
 
 THE WHITL KNIGHT. 155 
 
 ous to his interests, and flattering to his 
 pride : the pretensions of the low-sprung 
 dependent, he was sensible would shrink 
 before so illustrious an alliance ; and 
 his triumph over his rival would he 
 attended with a revenge most acceptable 
 to his heart ; that of representing his 
 presLimptiious hopes to the chieftain of 
 Glanviile : he well knew the family pride 
 of that hauglity lord, and was sensible, 
 that any suggestion of that nature Mould, 
 be sufiicient to cause the expulsion of 
 Allan from the castle of his patron. 
 With such thoughts he retired to his 
 apartment to change his dress. 
 
 Not so Allan : though he could not but 
 
 perceive the treacherous aim of his 
 
 opponent, yet he attributed it to the 
 
 momentary vexation of defeat; and thus 
 
 H 6 generous
 
 156 THE WHITE KNIGHT, 
 
 generous and noble in his own nature^ 
 could not harbour a conception that 
 Tyrone was cherishing such dark and 
 dangerous designs. As l.e passed along 
 the gallery, he met the lovely Ella, who, 
 with an earnestness and tender solicitude 
 she was unpractised to conceal, hoped 
 he had not received any injury from the 
 accident, and entreated him to hasten 
 and disengage himself from his wet at- 
 tire : she also expressed her pleasure at 
 seeing her sash bestowed on the friend 
 of her brother. A foot was now heard 
 upon the maible staircase ; it was old 
 Malcolm — Allan kissed the border of 
 tiie sash, sighed, and hastily departed. 
 
 Tyrone having attired himself in dry 
 garments, was, unfortunately, returning 
 from his chamber at the very moment of 
 
 interview;
 
 THE WHITE KXIGHT. 157 
 
 interview; he s?vW the tenderness mani- 
 fested in the manner of each, and had 
 the meanness to skulk behind a cokmin 
 to observe their motions, and to over- 
 hear their expressions. He soon heard 
 enough to render his rage extreme, and 
 his hatred towards Allan more invete- 
 rate. He gloried in the pride of birth, 
 and his ability of crushing the hopes of 
 his rival, by the weighty consideration 
 of his important alliance. He was de- 
 termined to prosecute his infernal plan, 
 and though sensible that the lovely girl 
 had bestowed her affections on Allan, 
 yet in violation of every sentiment of 
 generosity or honour, he was resolved, 
 by means of the temptation of his con- 
 nection, to gain the consent of the am- 
 bitious chieftain, totally regardless of 
 the happiness of the fair and unoffending 
 
 victim •
 
 15S THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 victim ; for the heart of Tyrone was a 
 stranger to those sensibilities which dig- 
 nify the name and character of man, and 
 justify the similitude of the Deity. 
 
 Allan retired to his chamber, and 
 Ella to tranquillize lier feelings at her 
 harp; whilst the gloomy Ultonian stole 
 down the private staircase, plotting mis- 
 chievous conceptions, and meditating 
 woes for the innocent and unoffending 
 heart* 
 
 CHAP.
 
 THE WHITE KXIGIIT, 159 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 ** Dissimulation is a weed which fills 
 The soil, which lust or fell ambition tills." 
 
 JL HE lovely daughter of Desmond was 
 still in a very dangerous situation ; her 
 mind was in a state of delirium; in which 
 she betrayed J in incoherent ravings, the 
 •cause of her malady. Though no per- 
 son present could draw any rational iu- 
 ference from her distracted ejaculations, 
 when, in the acme of her phrensy, she 
 would exclaim,^ *^ O spare him ! spare 
 the generous youth ! let my life answer 
 for the bloody purpose V Amazement 
 sat on every brow, save those of Judith 
 
 or
 
 160 THE WHITE knight. 
 
 f)V Susanna, who well knew to whom her 
 words alluded. 
 
 The gloomy chieftain of Dromore had 
 now paid a second visit since the indis- 
 position of the lovely Elinor ; seeming- 
 ly alive to the distress of his friend, he 
 inquired, in terms the most solicitous 
 and im.pressive, respecting the health of 
 his fair daughter : — his answer was the 
 language of despondence. Gerald sighed 
 — he hem'd — and after seeming to strug- 
 gle with many difficulties, with hesitating 
 accents he informed lord Desmond, that 
 he had secrets to communicate to him 
 of the first importance ; at the same 
 time regretting that it was not inform- 
 ation which would convey pleasure; 
 jet, situated as he was, he conceived it 
 
 a sacred
 
 THE WHITE KXIGIIT. l6l 
 
 a sacred duty to unfold a plot of darkest 
 character, which involved in its conse- 
 quences the honour and dearest interests 
 of his friends. 
 
 Desmond heard hhii with amazed at- 
 tention, and urged him to the explana- 
 tion of his mysterious preface ; and the 
 artful Gerald, in an elaborate speech, in 
 whicli he worked upon the pride and 
 prejudices of the credulous chief, at 
 length infonned him, that he had more 
 than presumptive reasons to believe that 
 the son of Glanville was the cause of his 
 daughter's indisposition. 
 
 '^ The son of Glanville !" exclaimed 
 Desmond with surprize and indigna- 
 tion, '* the son of my inveterate, here- 
 ditary foe ! — Impossible, my lord ! Eli- 
 nor
 
 162 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 nor knows too <\t11 what is clue to the 
 dignity of her hirth and duty, to league 
 with an enemy against tlie grey hairs of 
 her father." 
 
 ** Far be it from my intention," said 
 the subtile Gerald, ''to lay aught of 
 such criminal matter against that inno- 
 cent lady ; but, my lord, you are a man 
 of no inconsiderable experience, and 
 can judge how subject the female 
 heart is to receive impressions from 
 the seductive tongue of fiatterj^ when 
 further recommended by youth, rank, 
 and interesting graces of person ; for 
 of such even envy must allow the 
 son of Glanville to be possessed, though 
 the eye of penetrating judgment can 
 perceive in them nothing more than 
 the deceptive coverings of a designing 
 
 ambition^
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. l63 
 
 ambition, a sordid spirit, and a corrupt, 
 a profligate heart. — My lord, I am sorry 
 to speak plain on such a subject, but 
 am well assured that an intercourse of 
 tender sentiments has for some time pre- 
 vailed between him and your fair and 
 unsuspecting daughter.'^ 
 
 Desmond paced the apartment with 
 sullen agitation — ''Then may she be 
 numbered with the illustrious dead in 
 the cold vaults of my ancestors, may 
 her name and her memorvbe foro-otten, 
 sooner than she should unite such inimi- 
 cal bloo<:l, by an unnatural junction of 
 those streams Avhich warm an O'Cala- 
 ghan and a Desmond ! — But, m.y lord, 
 you say you have more than conjectu'/e 
 for this ; what are your proofs? 
 
 Gerald
 
 164 THE WHITE KNIGHT, 
 
 Gerald now produced the tablet, and 
 cautiously related the adventure at the 
 tournament, artfully concealing the part 
 he acted. — He mentioned his being im- 
 pelled by curiosity to witness that spec- 
 tacle — that he saw the son of Glanville 
 enter tlie lists with a strange knight, 
 and when all expected that the prostrate 
 Carbery would receive the stroke of 
 death from his successful opponent, a 
 youth rushed wildly across the circus, 
 interposed to save his life, and received 
 the descending point in the arm. — On 
 his returning to the castle, and hearing 
 of the lady Elinor's indisposition, and 
 particularly of the wound in the aim — 
 the tablet — the tournament — the person 
 who interposed — all rushed with con- 
 viction on his mind, that the son of 
 
 Glanville
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 1 65 
 
 Glanville was indebted to the heiress of 
 Desmond for his Hfe. 
 
 *' I shall enquire minutely into this 
 affair, " said the enraged chieftain ; ** and 
 if your suspicions prove true, I shall 
 take such measures, with vour advice, as 
 
 your 
 
 will tend to frustrate the views of this 
 perfidious boy ; meantime, my lord, re- 
 ceive my most grateful acknowledge- 
 ments for the kind concern you are 
 pleased to manifest for my interests, 
 and particularly in this affair." 
 
 Gerald, with many protestations of 
 attachment, assured him, that he should 
 consider it a duty to assist him in ren^ 
 dering the views of his enemy futile; 
 and added, '' I am the more impelled to 
 this by a conviction that love has no 
 
 share
 
 lG6 THE WHITE KXIGHT. ' 
 
 share in the heart of Carbery, but that 
 avarice and ambition urge him on to a. 
 claim upon those estates, which woukl 
 render him (united to his own patri- 
 mony, ) able to indulge his natural dis- 
 position of tyranny over his less potent 
 neighbours. Having once obtained this 
 object, his antient animosity against 
 your race would revive; and it is more 
 than probable, I shudder at the bare 
 idea ! that the daughter of your love 
 may fall by the hand or cup of an as- 
 sassin ; or, what would be still worse, 
 lino-er out a wretched existence in soli- 
 tary confinement, secluded from the 
 world in some dreary castle, and only 
 visited to endure the taunts and the 
 ridicule of some of the hereditary foes of 
 her family." 
 
 ''By
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. l67 
 
 *' By heaven the thought is mad- 
 ness !" exclaimed the frantic Desmond ; 
 *^ let the earth open into an immeasur- 
 ahle gulph, and swallow me and all my 
 possessions, sooner than the estates of 
 my ancestors be added to the wealth of 
 my haughty and most inveterate foe ! — • 
 It must not be — one method now re- 
 mains — Elinor shall wed the man of my 
 choice: I shall immediately select a 
 husband worthy of her hand, and of 
 my possessions ; if she rejects my choice, 
 a cloister shall receive her, and my es- 
 tates I shall appropriate to the endow- 
 ing of a monaster}^" 
 
 Gerald now feared he had gone too 
 far, and say/ the necessity of securing 
 the accomplishment of his own views 
 as soon as possible. How often was he 
 
 tempted
 
 l6S THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 tempted to open his heart to Desmond, 
 and offer himself as tliat son-in-law to 
 defend his rights, and to render eternal 
 the enmity of his house towards his 
 rival : but he knew that Desmond 
 loved his daughter, and would not eafi- 
 ]y consent to an union Vhere there was 
 such disparity of age ; and if he was re- 
 jected, all his past conduct would bear 
 the interpretation of pushing his own 
 interest perhaps at the expence of truth, 
 lijonour, and justice ; and the designs he 
 had in contemplation, if executed, 
 would be liable to bring suspicion on a 
 disappointed candidate. The danger of 
 a rejection was too great ; the hope of 
 success too feeble ; he therefore deter- 
 mined to avail himself of those crooked 
 powers of mind with which he was en- 
 dowed, to acquire by foul means what 
 
 he
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. ItQ 
 
 he could not expect by fair pretensions : 
 so taking leave of the cHitracted Des- 
 mond, he recommended caution and de- 
 liberation, whilst he returned to the 
 Castle of Dromore, busily intent upon 
 his future operations. 
 
 On his departure, all the domestics 
 were convened in the great hall, and, 
 after a long investigation, it appeared 
 that Judith and Susanna Vvcre the only 
 persons absent from the Castle on the 
 day of the tournament at Glanville. — 
 They were immediately taken apart, and 
 assailed alternately by all the pov>^er of 
 threats, and promises of reward, until 
 the secret was extorted from them. 
 Convinced of the truth of Gerald's sug- 
 gestions, his friendly zeal was the sub- 
 ject of grateful praise, and his sagacity 
 
 VOL. I. I a theme
 
 170 THE WHITE K:?fIGIiT. 
 
 a theme for adiTiiration ; he h)okecl upon 
 him as the guardian angel of his house, 
 thus interposing to save it from destruc- 
 tion. He now bent all his mind towards 
 selecting a husband for his daughter, in 
 ev^ery point corresponding with the fond 
 wishes he had formed ; and for this pur- 
 pose the lord of Thomond appeared the 
 most desirable object. — He was young, 
 agreeable, the head of a powerful clan, 
 and in every respect possessed of those 
 requisites which Desmond desired in a 
 son-in-law and heir for his territories : 
 besides, there was a connexion of blood 
 between their families, which made him 
 more earnest in Avishing for an aUiance, 
 ^vhich would prevent his hereditary es- 
 tates from devolving to a stranger. He 
 was further impelled by the rumour of 
 Tyrone's having made proposals for the 
 
 daughter
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 171 
 
 daughter of Glanville ; and imagined he 
 could not be secure, but by forming a 
 connexion efjually powerful, as a coun- 
 terpoise to the designs and ambition of 
 his enemy. 
 
 With this intention he determined to 
 conceal from his daughter a knowledge 
 of the discovery he had made ; and en- 
 joined secrecy on the two terrified at- 
 tendants of Elinor, which there was no 
 doubt of their observing most religious- 
 ly, as they dreaded nothing more than 
 their mistress being made acquainted 
 with their confession. 
 
 Carrol, tlie bosom friend of Desmond, 
 was now called, and having been in- 
 formed of all the circumstances attend- 
 ing the lady Elinor's indisposition, urged 
 3 2 the
 
 172 THE WHITE KNICWiT. 
 
 the necessity of dispatch in the execu- 
 tion of those preventive measures 
 which were agreed on. — And having 
 received his instructions, immediately 
 departed for Thomohd, with an invita- 
 tion to the young chieftain, and an offer 
 of alliance from the house of Desmond, 
 
 chapI
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 17i^J 
 
 CPAP. XI. 
 
 To shew that all the flattering schemes of joy 
 Which tow'ring Hope so fondly builds in air, 
 
 One faial moinent caa <ks£roy — 
 
 Siaw. 
 
 Jxt Glanville festivity and joy still 
 prevailed, except in tlie bosoms of Allan, 
 of Ella, of Carbery, and of Tyrone, who 
 weie all variously affected by ^causes not 
 kaown to the rest of the guests, nor ap- 
 parent in their conduct. In the expres- 
 sive countenance of Ella, the lily, in- 
 deed, had nearly banished the rose from 
 its society ; and pensive melancholy dif- 
 fused itself, rendering her divine face 
 still more interesting, Allan, notwith- 
 standing every effort to contribute to 
 I 3 the
 
 174 THE AVHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 the entertainments of the Castle, appear- 
 ed to have lost a great portion of that 
 animation which characterized him ; and 
 was often surprised in situations which 
 v/oiild furnish a design of despondence 
 for the pencil of the painter. Carbery 
 Avas silent and contemplative ; and Ty- 
 rone sullen, reserved, and observant : 
 each was agitated by feelings to which 
 the peculiarity of situation, by render- 
 ing secrecy necessary, added poignancy. 
 —Yet the amusements which occupied 
 the crowd around them, by attracting 
 attention to other objects, left them at 
 liberty to indulge each his sensations 
 witliout interruption or observation. 
 Ella, in vvdiose bosom the tender influ- 
 ence of an infant passion too powerfully 
 established itself, though sensible of the 
 iniprudence of her attachment^ and of 
 
 the
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 175 
 
 the obstacles which opposed even a hope 
 of its being crowned by the completion 
 of her wishes ; after some weak struggles 
 with her reason, (if a love-sick girl can 
 have any,) vvdiich, like water thrown 
 lightly on a fire, tends only, by the ac- 
 tion of its air, to aggravate the' flame, 
 was at length llattcred, by the sopliistry 
 of passion, into the persuasion, that there 
 .could not possibly be the least harm in 
 indulging a dream of happiness which 
 could never be substantiated ; and, by 
 the enjoyment of visionary or imaginary 
 bliss, delude herself into an idea of its 
 reality : by this means cheating sorrow 
 of many stings, and despair of a quiver 
 full of arrows. — Poor, simple Ella ! little 
 did she imagine that the very means 
 she was adopting for its. preservation, 
 ^vp:e most hostile to her peace; for, alas I 
 I 4 when
 
 17^ THE IVHITE KXIGHT. 
 
 were most hostile to her peace ; thr, alas t 
 when the effervesces: :e of imagination 
 beo:an to subside, and all th.ose air- 
 Avrought phantoms had vanished from: 
 her view — she would grasp the sharp 
 thistle of disappointment, and find too 
 late, that the devious path v.hich Fancy 
 hadsti-ewed withflow^-rs, v/asthe rugged 
 road of reality, whicli led to the gbom- 
 enrbowcred caverns of Despair. But 
 Ella was not aware af the danger ; slie 
 collected the sweetest wikl-fiowers of 
 the vale, and wove thein in a chaplet 
 for her Allan ; she formed a CjOucIi of 
 the softest moss, and despoiled the gar- 
 den of its fairest ornaments, and all for 
 Allan ; her harp was strung to witching 
 fiotes af melody, for she fancied him 
 attending to her strain : she reclined oa 
 
 her
 
 rifE WiflJE KNIGHT. 17f 
 
 tier couch of moss, and he was by her 
 side ; she hfeard his whisper m the ireeze, 
 and his sighs in the murmurs of the gale ; 
 h^e was4iers, and she was irrevocably his. 
 ' — ^^Sweet deUision ! fond and simple Ella, 
 enjoy thy golden dream; anal may the 
 visions of delight which dance in thine 
 ena^ioured view, never sbrink into the 
 gliastly spectres of disappointment I — 
 May ablest reality embody all thy fairy 
 i^mages of joy, and scenes of pleasure be 
 thy |X)rtion, even fairer than the briglrt- 
 est paintings K)f thine own enthusiastic 
 iuiag'i nation ! 
 
 How Jittle <\id Allan know, that lie 
 was tlie a<lo.red subject of all his Ella's 
 tboug^lt^s ajid a-eyerdes ; prospects of a 
 (Ji^ient n^afcui^ ^occupied M<s mmd, arA 
 ho^mihGd |)CCM:e fr.offli hk foosoBj. — -Hi«, 
 1 5 were
 
 ]78 THE WHITE KSTIGHT, 
 
 ^v€Te not tlipse powers of fancy, which 
 could steal the stings from the fangs of 
 excruciating reality : his reason was 
 too strong, and his feelings too acute 
 for the effects of such a delusion. — Too 
 surely was he convinced of the obscuri- 
 ty of his birth, the dependent state of 
 his fortune, and the immoveable bar- 
 riers which opposed the fondest wishes 
 of his heart. — For how could he refuse 
 to cherish such endeared wishes, when 
 he was sensible of the partiality enter- 
 tained in his favour by their lovely ob- 
 ject? — But then honour and gratitude 
 assailed him ; could he ungenerouisly 
 forget the patron of his youth ? Could 
 he be the instrument to blast all his 
 prospects of aggrandizement ? lii short, 
 could he basely contrive to rob a fond 
 parent of his favourite siource of delight^ 
 
 of
 
 THE V/HITE KNIGHT. 179 
 
 of a daughter on whom he doated ; and 
 stab the bosom that cherished him from 
 lowly infancy, by wounding its pride, 
 and overturning all the castles which 
 ambitious imagination had erected ? 
 No, the voice of gratitude, the voice 
 of honor was sweet to Allan ; he was de- 
 termined to obey it, and to repel those 
 cncroachilients of passion which were 
 fast gaining on his heart. — It was a 
 severe struggle, but he studiously avoid- 
 ed all manner of intercourse with the 
 dear and fatal cause of his disquietude, 
 and never saw her but in pubhc. — But 
 the worm of care was preying on his 
 heart, and the languor of his counte- 
 nance made it too visible, that he 
 ''.pined in thought ;" whilst Carbery, 
 who was absorbed in the contemplatioQ 
 of his angelic Elinor's charms^ and di- 
 I «> recting
 
 180 THE WHITE KNIGHT, 
 
 recting every Avish and every thought 
 to that one object of his affectioirs, did 
 not perceive the alteration in his friend, 
 xsoi his friend in him ; for an anxiety 
 had impressed characters on his fore- 
 head, to which, until lately, it was a 
 stranger. 
 
 Tyrone alone was in full possession of 
 his observing and penetrating powers^ 
 and these he sedulously employed on the 
 looks and motions of Ella and of Allan. 
 Not a glance, not a sigh, not a word 
 escaped him : in Ella, he read much to 
 render himself dissatisfied ; but Allan, 
 reseiTcd, silent, and seemingly, indif- 
 ferent, was a mystery to him. He, how- 
 ever, perceived that he never could be- 
 cpme a favourite himself with the 
 da^ughter of Glanville ; and having no 
 
 mean
 
 THE WHITE K,NIGHT. iSl 
 
 mean opinion of his own person and ac- 
 complishmentSj could not help suspecting* 
 that pohcy and design lay concealed 
 jtinder the distance and reserve which 
 was assumed by Allan ; and could not 
 fcut attribute his ov*n want of success to 
 the arts and secret intrigues of that 
 '* youDg man/* (as he soinetimcs called 
 liim, with all the pride of nobility ;) and 
 possessed of this opinion, laboured night 
 and day to satisfy his jealous curiosity, 
 Alas ! an opportunity too soon presented 
 itself; which at once served to convince 
 Tyrone of the truth of his conclusions, 
 and to overturn all that boasted resoju- 
 tion which Allan vainly con-ceived to be 
 immoveable and impregnable. 
 
 It happened one evening, as Allan was 
 rambling along the banks of the Avoo- 
 
 more,
 
 182 THE '^rHlTE KXIGHT. 
 
 more, to the west of the castle, and 
 conteniphiting the beauties of the setting 
 sun, whose fiery orb was descending with 
 slow and majestic motion, behind the 
 blue summits of the western mountains, 
 on whose irregular sides his lingering 
 rays fell partially : as he passed a little 
 coppice, endeared to him by the recol- 
 lection of many happy scenes, his atten- 
 tion was arrested by a sweet and plaintive 
 strain, which seemed to issue from its 
 inmost recess ; he thought the voice 
 familiar to him, and gently approaching, 
 imtil he had attained a situation in which 
 he could distinctly hear the words, — the 
 following air from the lips of his adored 
 Ella, who happened at that moment to 
 be indulging the illusions of imagina- 
 tion, overwhelmed him with sensations 
 wiiich no language could describe-: 
 
 I'U
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 183 
 
 I '11 wave me a chaplet so gay, 
 For Allan, sweet Allan, to wjar : 
 I '11 ri-fle the treasures of May, 
 And I'll 'dew ev'ry flow'r with a tear. 
 
 The rose, like his cheek, must there bloom ; 
 Like his skin, shall the snow-drop appear j 
 The pink, like his breath, breathe perfume ; 
 And I '11 'dew ev'ry flow'r with a tear. 
 
 But what are the treasures of IVIay ? 
 When Allan, sweet Allan, is near. 
 Their beauties all vanish away ; 
 O, I'll 'dew ev'ry flow'r with a tear! 
 
 Allan stood riveted to the spot; a soft 
 enchantnieiit diffused itself over all his 
 bewildered senses; he fancied himself 
 transported to those elysian retreati,' 
 wh6re love, triumphing over all distinc- 
 tions, and free from the shackles of ce- 
 remonious propriety, speaks the language 
 ,of the lieaff without restraint, unawed 
 
 by
 
 384 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 by the scowling eye of jealousy, the 
 alarms of family pride, or paternal soli- 
 citude. All obligations were forg'otten, 
 all his lesolutions vanished, and, urged 
 on by the fa&cination of the moment, he 
 sprung for ward, and in an instant was 
 at the feet of his captivating syren. An 
 ejaculation of surprise escaped the dis- 
 concerted fair one; the roseate tinge ap- 
 peared on, and vanished from her cheeks 
 with all the rapidity of a convulsive 
 emotion ; she trembled, and Allan was 
 too much agitated to calm or to soothe 
 her feelings ; he could only exclaim, with 
 faltering accents, -^^ ^lost adored and 
 excellent Ella, pardon the presumptioQ 
 of despairing love ; may eternal blessings 
 be your portion, whilst the humbie Allan 
 shall itojte&teemhimselfentiFelywXietcheiiy 
 if permitted; in sojituck^ to pray for, md 
 
 to
 
 THE WHITE KXIGHT. 185 
 
 to adore you/* — Having uttered these 
 impassioned expressions- "^e heartily im- 
 printed a burning kiss on her hand, and 
 darred from her oresence before she could 
 recover from lier confusion. 
 
 She awoke as if from a dream ; the 
 phantom of delight had fled, and so fleet- 
 ing was the scene, and so quick the suc- 
 cession of ideas, with their attendant 
 sensations, that «he attributed the whole 
 to the disordered state of her mind, and 
 with this impression, gave vent to her 
 feelings in this extt^mporaneous effu- 
 sion 
 
 TO fancy: 
 
 Tou fiatt'nng dreams of soft dellght> 
 Ah stay, ah lingVing stay. 
 And cheat my fond deluded sight. 
 With love's ethereal ray ! 
 
 Since
 
 1S6 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 Since real peace, a stranger grown, 
 Has ceased to cheer my hours ; 
 Let Fancy brhig her magic zone, 
 And bind me with its pow'rs. 
 
 Then come, thou nymph of smile serene ! 
 With each illusive charm ; 
 Give trans'ent sunshine to the scene, 
 And hush each vain alarm. 
 
 The shades of ni<2ht were now de- 
 .scending", she arose from licr couch of 
 moss, and hastened by a winding path 
 which led through a shrubbery to the 
 X'astle, wliich she reached in a few mi- 
 nutes, unobserved, as slie imagined, by 
 tlie eye of curiosity ; buc Ella was mis- 
 taken, the demon of discord had hovered 
 over \\er, all the evening, in the form of 
 Tyrone ; concealed in a thick part of the 
 coppice, he heard the tender effusions of 
 
 her
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 187' 
 
 JiCT heart, and witnessed, Avith eyes in- 
 flated by jealous rage, that impassioned 
 scene which has been just related. 
 Ella retired to her room, and Allan was 
 also in his apartment, debating with 
 himself on the propriety or impropriety 
 of his late conduct. Love offered 'liiany 
 aro'uments of a specious and deludinsr 
 nature, to sanction the pait which he 
 liad acted : — Who could resist the im- 
 pulse of his feelings at such a moment ? 
 iler fascinating accents still seemed to 
 •vibrate in his ears; the rightsand the voice 
 of nature should not be disreg^arded : and 
 though fortune had placed him in an 
 humble point of view, with regard to 
 worldly estimation, yet surely the pre- 
 judiced distinctions of man should not 
 take precedence of those laws, imprinted 
 on the face of universal nature, by that 
 
 divine
 
 188 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 divine Legislator who knoweth no dis- 
 tinction but that of virtue : birth was 
 fortuitous, and surely there could be no 
 merit attached to the possession of an 
 advantage which no person could com- 
 niand; and as to fortune, her random 
 favours were bestowed with such an un- 
 equal liand, and erring judgment, that 
 weak indeed must be his claim, who 
 would found his pretensions to superiority 
 on so precarious and sandy a basis. He, 
 therefore, was right in asserting those 
 ^original laws, the inheritance of man; 
 they told him that he had rights to vin- 
 dicate, that he had also feelings given 
 him for the noblest purposes, and that 
 whenever he could indulge them without 
 infi-inging on any of those original in- 
 ^stitutes, he was right. — The passion of 
 love W9-S the first principle of nature ; he 
 
 felt.
 
 THE WHITE KN-IGHT. 185 
 
 felt, and he inspired that passion, — td 
 gratify it, would confer happiness on 
 himself and the object of his wishes ; 
 and, as the divine Author of the universe 
 directed all things to tend to the happi- 
 ness of his creatures, he surely could not 
 be ^nong in seconding such benevolent , 
 intentions. Such was the sophistry of 
 love i 
 
 Now, Reason spoke : — To enjoy those 
 rights which you so highly value, you 
 must return to the original state of na- 
 ture, and I fancy you will not find a 
 state of society so rude as to be totally 
 unacquainted with distinctions. 
 
 Next, Honour: — Was it fair in yoiiv 
 to listen to the thoughtless effusions of 
 an inexperienced girl ? and, by your ex* 
 
 travagant 
 3
 
 190 THE WHITE KNIGHT. ' 
 
 travagant conduct, confirm a passion 
 which a seeming mdiffefence on your 
 part may ultimately eradicate , when 
 you vv^as confident, that your situation 
 and expectations were such, as that, if 
 your desires were attended with success, 
 they could not be crowned with happi- 
 ness ? And could you, for a selfish gra- 
 tification, bring misery and disgrace on 
 the object of your affections ? 
 
 Next, Gratitude assailed him : — 
 You was born to poverty and vassalage ; 
 the hand of generosity drew you forth 
 from a degrading obscurity, and be- 
 stowed on you all the advantages of 
 rank and fortune: and can you forget 
 tliat hand M-hich raised you from the 
 servile herd? can you infix a poniard in 
 that bosom which cherished yqu? and 
 
 plant 
 
 5
 
 THE WHITE KXIGIIT. ipi 
 
 plant with thorns that path of a kind 
 patron s uecUnii.g life which it is your 
 duty to strew with flowers ? — Shame, 
 shame! said Gratitude; and Allan blush- 
 ed. The rights of nature vanislied ; he 
 paced the room with agitation, mutter- 
 ing to himself, *' I was wrong! I am a 
 scoundrel!" 
 
 Allan said he was rcrong, and perhaps 
 he was so : — He also said he was a 
 scoundrel; but tlie very emotions which 
 called forth such a declaration, were 
 sufficient proofs that he was not one. 
 
 Such, however, was his self-convicted 
 conclusion, and such the state of his 
 mind, when it occurred to him, (dire 
 necessity !) that the only means of pre- 
 serving his honour untainted, and to 
 
 prevent
 
 192 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 prevent those disagreeable events which 
 must result from the pursuit which pas- 
 sion impelled him to, was to make a 
 noble sacrifice of his feelings, and devote 
 himself to voluntary exile, sooner than 
 disturb the peace of that family, which 
 had imposed so many, and such weighty 
 obligations on him ; and, lest any 
 circumstance should happen to occasion 
 his relapse into the delusive mazes of 
 fancy, he determined to withdraw from 
 the objects of all his affections that very 
 night, and never return until assured 
 that his presence would not create un- 
 easiness ; hoping that absence would 
 erase his memory from the mind of his 
 beloved ; and that time would mitigate, 
 since it would be impossible entirely to 
 subdue, the acuteness of his feelings. 
 Such was the generous resolution which 
 
 he
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 193 
 
 he had formed, when he was alarmed by 
 a hasty summons into the presence of 
 his lord. He anticipated unwelcome 
 news, and his heart foreboded the effects 
 of treachery ; he, however, obeyed the 
 summons, and in a few minutes was 
 ushered into the presence of the chief- 
 tain, who abruptly addressed Inm with 
 the following words : 
 
 ^^ So, sir,'' (he exclaimed, wiiilst all 
 the indignation of offended pride flashed 
 from his eyes, and reddened up iris sal- 
 low countenance;) '^ So, sir, I have 
 been nursing a reptile iu the bosom 
 of my family, to dart its envenomed 
 sthig at the peace of that breast v/hich 
 cherished it, and to bring disgrace upon 
 the chief of an illustrious house ; v/ho so 
 far forgot his dignity, as to admit a 
 LVOL. I. K lowly
 
 194 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 lowly vassal to his board, his friendship, 
 and his confidence. — Was this well done, 
 vouns: i^a^n ? 
 
 "• My lord," replied Allan, with some 
 degree of warmth, (for the epithets of 
 reptile and lowly vassal had stung him 
 to the soul;) '' 'tis true, loweyoumuch, 
 and can say with truth that I have ever 
 felt a just sense of my obligations : but 
 I cannot conceive, that even the claims 
 you have on my gratitude, can confer 
 on you a right to load me Avith terms of 
 such unmerited reproach and degrada- 
 tion ; and, — " 
 
 *' Base born miscreant !" (exclaimed 
 
 the haughty Glanville, interrupting 
 
 him;) ^* do you presume to talk to me 
 
 of rights ? Know that your life is at my 
 
 3 ^ disposal,
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. l^i 
 
 ciisposal, and can scarcely atone for your 
 offence: lamwell assured of your dissem- 
 bling arts and vile ingratitude ; first you 
 insinuated yourself into the affections of 
 my son ; and next, your presumptuous 
 ambition aspired to my daughter's hand : 
 Intolerable vanity ! the son of the cot- 
 tager, Randal, to be the rival of a prince ! 
 for know, young man, the heir of Ulster 
 has proposed for that alliance which 
 you intended to disgrace. To conclude, 
 your life I spare, on condition of your 
 immediate departure from hence, an<l 
 never setting foot again on my posses- 
 sions. " 
 
 The heart of Allan was convulsed with 
 agony and indignation. *' My lord," 
 (he could scarcely articulate, ) ^^ your 
 order is unnecessary ; my own feelings 
 had already urged me to that determina- 
 K ^ tion;
 
 19^ THE WHITE KNTGHT. 
 
 tion; and after the terms of degradatioii 
 with whicli I have been so unjustly in- 
 sulted, I should prefer the desert to youf 
 society, and the wild heath to your bed 
 of down. As to my life, it is to me of 
 little consequence ; it may be in a tyrant's 
 power, but I fear not the brave." With 
 these words he hurried from the apart- 
 ment, and in a few minutes departed 
 from the Castle; while Glanville, affected 
 by contending emotions of pride, resent- 
 ment, and affection, (for he had a regard 
 for Allan still lurking near his heart,) 
 sunk into his chair, and indulged a deep 
 train of silent meditation ; until the 
 dinner bell smote upon his ear, and awoke 
 him from his reverie. 
 
 At the banquet, all was gloomy mag- 
 nificence ; Glanville could not conceal 
 his agitation, when Carbery inquired for 
 
 his
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. l^? 
 
 bis friend : the crimson flood rose at the 
 sound of that heloved name to the ex- 
 pressive countenance of Elhi. Tyrone 
 winked at the chieftain, who saw his 
 daughter's emotions with a degree of re- 
 sentment he was unable to repress ; and, 
 on Carbery's repeating his inquiry witli 
 increased solicitude, his answer was, 
 ** Mention not again that nauic, it is 
 hateful to me; that v/retch has long 
 enough disgraced my table, and abused 
 my condescension." 
 
 *^ Carbery could not retain the resent- 
 ment which arose from his liberal heart; 
 *^ His presence would not disgrace a 
 monarch !" he exclaimed, with a gene- 
 rous warmth; and then arising from the 
 table, he cast a glance of suspicion and 
 reseutmenc at Tyrone, and departed from 
 K 3 the
 
 1,98 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 the hall, \vith manifest indignation, 
 leaving his father in an ungovernable 
 rage, and the guests m consternation ; 
 whilst a livid paleness diffused itself over 
 the countenance of the agitated Ulto- 
 nian. 
 
 Ella was overcome with her feelings 
 and her fears ; she, however, summoned 
 sufficient resolution to retire with some 
 degree of apparent composure, and hav- 
 ing tottered to her chamber, flung herself 
 on a couch in an agony of distress. 
 
 CHAP.
 
 IIIE WHITE KNIGUT. 199 
 
 CHAP. xir. 
 
 " Misfortune, like a creditor severe, 
 But rises in demand for her delay ; 
 She makes a scourge of past prosperity, 
 
 To sting thee mere, and double thy distress." 
 
 Tourg. 
 
 X RKVious to hiscleparture, Allan wrote 
 a few lines to his ^fFiciKi^.simpi^-a^iolo- 
 gizliig foy his abrupt dcparU:re, and 
 recoiiiirieiKl hig kis old and Linprotect? d 
 parents to bis generous care aiul patron- 
 age. He knew'his own heart sutliciciitly, 
 TO be sensible that an interview with Ids 
 friend, or the venerabie cottagers, would 
 be attended with emotions on ]}oth sides, 
 which l;e wished to spare ihcni, tliough 
 to bdm it would in some degree prove a 
 K 4 luxury.
 
 .^00 THE M^HITE KNIGHT. 
 
 luxury. He also feared that the effects 
 of such a scene would tend to weaken 
 the resolution he had formed, of imme- 
 diate, and now voluntary exile. 
 
 Having therefore procured the habit 
 of a peasant, with an ashen stripling in 
 his hand, he set out, not knowing 
 whither to direct his steps ; 
 
 " Tlie worlvl to choose, and Providence his guide.** 
 
 In a short time lie had passed the 
 boundaries of Glanvilie territory, and 
 then with exultation exclaimed, *' Now, 
 haughty lord, thy mandate is obeyed : 
 no.vlam free as air, no tyrant to call 
 me \assai ; — I am the child of nature, 
 iiiid the wide world is my iniieritance. 
 () liberty, inolimalde treasure! be thou 
 
 the
 
 THE ^VHITE KXIGHT. 20i 
 
 the aweet partner of my wandrings, thy 
 angel smile shall cheer me in all my 
 vicissitudes, and every privation of for- 
 tune be disreg*arded whilst ennobled by 
 thy society." 
 
 Thus did he indulge the first trans- 
 ports which the idea of independence 
 had excited in his breast; but, when he 
 considered that he was turning his back, 
 perhaps for ever, on all he held dear on 
 earth; when the celestial form of Ella 
 arose to his view, — perhaps even then, 
 she was acquainted with, and mourned 
 his departure ; — he fancied he saw the 
 tear of feeling roll down her expressive 
 countenance, and heard her sigh of 
 sympathizing sorrow for the fate of the 
 exiled and forlorn Allan. — It was too 
 much ; — ^his friend also seemed to re- 
 K 5 proacli
 
 202 THE WIHTE KNIGHT. 
 
 proacli him for his desertion, and his 
 aged parents occurred only to create 
 sentiments of affection mingled with 
 agonizing emotions of distress. — All the 
 scenes of happy childhood next crowded 
 on his memory : — he was forsaking all, 
 perhaps for ever ; but then, the degrad- 
 ing epithets of lowly vassal, base reptile ! 
 brought the tide of resentment aad 
 wounded pride into his checks, and 
 strengthened his resolution of flying 
 from a place where contempt and vassal^ 
 age wov\Jd be his portion. 
 
 He had now reached the summit of 
 one of the hio-hest hills of IMona : he 
 turned, by an involuntary impulse, to- 
 wards the scenes of his youth, the moon 
 was just risen above the verge of the 
 horison, and seemed to pause on the 
 
 broad
 
 HE ^rHiTE Anight. 
 
 e03 
 
 broad back of Knockraura, to shed its 
 flakes of silvery liglit along the plain, 
 and e-Ive him a last and lino'erlno; view 
 of fields endeared to him by all the little 
 incidentsof early attachment and infan- 
 tine amusements. He saw tlie meander- 
 ing of the noble Avonmore ; perhaps, for 
 the last time, beheld that stream Avhicli 
 so often embraced his juvenile limbs, 
 4h^ source of health, exercise, and plea- 
 sure. The turrets of the castle now 
 caught his Avandering eye, as the moon- 
 light shower was reflected from its stones 
 of sober grey : — dear well known turrets ! 
 which enclosed the objects of his soul's 
 most intimate affections ; his fancy even 
 pourtrayed the graceful form of his Ella, 
 as she leant in a pensive attitude over 
 the balustrades of the lofty battlements, 
 seeming to take a lingering view of his 
 k: 6" departing
 
 £04 THE WHITE KXIGHT. 
 
 departing £tc])s. He gently drew the 
 precious sash from his bosom, and prest 
 it to his hps : but at that moment an en- 
 vious cloud enveloped the regent of the 
 night; chilling blasts descended from 
 the hills ; tlie scattered clouds collecting 
 in amass, obtruded every beam of light ; 
 whilst darkness displayed her ebon scep- 
 tre. — The weli-known iields, tlie stream, 
 the turrets, nay, the fancied form of his 
 Ella, all faded on his sight, as homeless, 
 desolate, and abandoned ; he stood upon 
 the barren lieath, fondly striving to re- 
 trace tlie beloved images which were 
 flown, perhaps, for ever from his view. 
 
 In this situation, absorbed intliought. 
 he rested on the protuberance of a rock, 
 nor lieocled the circling folds of darkness> 
 Y»hich, witli deeper^ and still deepening 
 
 shades.
 
 THE WHITE KXIGHT. 205 
 
 shades, enveloped him. The rude gust 
 now swept along the summits of tlie 
 mountains, whilst the wild ash bent at 
 its approach; and the fox crept from his 
 earth, to seek for sustenance bv midnii'-ht 
 depredations : the whole appearance of 
 nature was changed, and every progno- 
 stic of a storm presented itself. Allan 
 awoke from his reverie ; he marked the 
 sudden transition from light to dark- 
 ness, from serenity to tempest, througli 
 all the scene which surrounded him : it 
 was the picture of his own fate ; he could 
 not help assimilating it to his own sud- 
 den reverse of fortune; and was indulg- 
 ing this melancholy reflection, when the 
 trampling of horses arrested his atten- 
 tion ; he concluded that the object of 
 an excursion, at such an hour, could liot 
 be laudable ; and he determined, if pos- 
 sible.
 
 ^06 THE V/HITE KNIGHT. 
 
 sible, to avoid being observed by them : 
 a suspicion glanced across his mind, 
 t])at thev mi^ht be emissaries from the 
 castle, dispatched by some enemy for his 
 destruction ; and, though a few minutes 
 before he should consider death as a 
 chearful prospect, affording a refuge 
 from all his Avoes, yet, when he appre- 
 hended its approach, that principle of 
 self-preservation, so wisely implanted in 
 the human breast by an irresistible im^ 
 pulse, impelled him to concealment ; for 
 this purpose he retired into a narrow 
 fissure in the rock, on which he rested, 
 and which was admirably adapted foF 
 the end required. 
 
 He had scarcely taken post in his re- 
 treat, when the horsemen arrived at the 
 spot ; and he heard their conversation, 
 
 iu
 
 THE WHITE KNitJHT ^07 
 
 in a manner which left not a doubt on 
 his mind but he was the subject of it, 
 as well as the object of their pursuit. 
 
 *^ I am positive he came this way," 
 (said a rough voice ;) nor can he be fiir 
 off, for I traced every step he trod." 
 
 ** Confound him/' (said a second,) 
 \' what a chase he has led us ; yet we 
 durst not return to Tyrone without giv- 
 ing a good account of him." 
 
 *' Wc dare not return without spilling 
 his heart's blood," vociferated a third ; 
 *^ I wish I had but one stab at him, and 
 I warrant you 'twould do his business." 
 
 *^ We had a hard ride," said another 
 of the gang ; ^ ' a drop of comfort would 
 do us no harm : come, Lavert, let us 
 
 have
 
 208 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 Lave a drop, and then w'ell renew the 
 chase." ^' I second the motion," said 
 each of tlie pious fraternity ;" and hav- 
 ing dismounted and linked their horses, 
 they sat down at the entrance of the 
 cave to regale themselves. But what 
 must have heen the feelings of Allan 
 when he heard them recapitulate most 
 of the events of the day, and throw new 
 liglit upon a suhject in which he was so 
 much interested ? 
 
 " ^Vhat a proud scoundrel that Lord 
 Glan\ille is, said one ; ** he thinks that 
 Tyrone will marry his daughter, but he 
 knows a trick worth two of tliat." 
 
 ** Tyrone is a match for the devil 
 himself," cried another; ^^ I warrant 
 he'll make fools of them all m the end ; 
 
 he
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 20§ 
 
 he luas got rid of one damnVi trouble- 
 lionie fellow already ; though by the 
 by, he was fairly beat at the tourna- 
 nicut.*' 
 
 '' Aye, that stuck woundedly in his 
 gizzard ; I knew he'd never rest until he 
 got revenge — this is all his doing !" 
 
 ** Well !" exclaimed the surly assas- 
 sin, who seemed to be their chief, 
 *' what have we to say to all this ? It is 
 our business to execute our orders, and 
 you know we dare not return without 
 bloody daggers ; so to your horses, 
 and let us take diiferent routes in pur- 
 suit of him." 
 
 On this they immediately remounted^ 
 and rode, offi leaving Allan somewhat 
 
 relieved
 
 ^10 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 relieved from his apprehensions, though 
 still not daring to leave the place which 
 had afforded hiin its friendly shelter, 
 until the light of returning day should 
 restore some degi-ree of confidence to his 
 hosom. Such was the forlorn state of 
 this interesting youth, at a trivial dis- 
 tance from the scene of all his expired 
 happiness, condemned, like an outlavved 
 criminal, to intrude upon the loathsome 
 retreat of the fox, and hunted with more 
 determined pei-secution, and a more in- 
 satiate thirst of blood even than that 
 animal. As he reclined his head 
 against the damp side of the cavern, 
 fall of such o'loomv reflections, and 
 planning some system of future con- 
 duct ; sleep, by insensible approaches, 
 gently stole upon his wearied eye-lids, 
 and his limbs, ov^ercome M'ith lassitude, 
 were soon encircled in its balmy folds. 
 
 It
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 211 
 
 It was not a death-like sleep which he 
 enjoyed ; his mind, heated by the adven- 
 tures of the day, was occupied with 
 strange visions. — He fancied that a tall 
 figure in silver armour appeared to him, 
 and having beckoned him to follow, led 
 him by a subterraneous passage which 
 seemed to issue from the cavern, 
 througli many intricate windings, to a 
 beautiful valley bordering on the mo- 
 nastery of Morne, where it vanished 
 from his sight, saying with an impres- 
 sive tone of voice, *' those fields are 
 thine.'' — Me started, awoke, and found 
 all was but a dream. The hollow wind 
 was scouring the dreary heath v/ith a 
 rougher blast ; and the rain, which de- 
 scended in torrents, dashed by its vio- 
 lence against the rocks, began to inun- 
 date his wretched retreat : he retired 
 
 ftiU
 
 £l53 THE WHITE KXIGIIT. 
 
 Still farther into the rude cavity, and 
 having again reclined his head on the 
 rough and jutting exuberance of the 
 cavern, sleep in a short time resumed its 
 dominion ; but his imagination was still 
 active, whilst the demon of dreams 
 hovered round him, and presented to 
 his view an extraordinary and interest- 
 ing vision. 
 
 He fancied that the same figure again 
 stood before him, and having regarded 
 him for some time with a look expres- 
 sive of the tcnderest concern, invited 
 him to follow. He obeyed, and ima- 
 gined that he was conducted by a low 
 and narrow passage, into a suite of sub- 
 terraiieous vaults, where the melancholy 
 ruins of mortality lay scattered on every 
 side. Ih proceeded, treading with 
 
 caution^
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. lli'J 
 
 Tjaution, lest his erring steps should vio' 
 iate the sacred relics of the departed, 
 the phantom still gliding on hefore, and 
 often reverting a look of tenderness and 
 compassion, until they arrived at a spa- 
 cious sepulchre hung with dark arras, 
 and adorned with hatchments : on a 
 bench was extended a coffin under a 
 black canopy and pall, which the figure 
 in armour lifted up; and, horrid to relate, 
 the half consumed corpse had infixed 
 in its bosom a dagger driven to the 
 hilt. The phantom stood over it with 
 an air of affliction, ejaculated, in a 
 plaintive tone, that horrific word ^hnur- 
 der,'' and, pointing tg the dagger, va- 
 nished from his sight. 
 
 A sudden noise at the entrance of the 
 cave now awoke the horror-ftricken 
 
 youth;
 
 214 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 youth, who was pleased to find liimself 
 once more free from the terrific powers 
 of imagination. — But alas ! he awoke to 
 "terrors of a different description, and at- 
 tended with more immediate danger; 
 for he again recognized the voice of his 
 pursuers. 
 
 ** This is a dreadful night," said one; 
 *^ here Lavert, give us another chop of 
 the cordial." *^ How it pours !" said 
 another: where shall we find shelter 
 in this harren waste?" 
 
 *' Here," said a third, *^I have disco- 
 vered a hollow in this rock; let us enter, 
 and strike a fire ; I've got some tinder, 
 and do you collect some heath." 
 
 Allan now imagined his fate was in- 
 evitable :
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 215 
 
 evitable : he, however, as they entered, 
 retired considerably further into the 
 friendly recess ; but alas 1 the sohd rock 
 soon opposed his progress : he now pa- 
 tiently waited his fate, confident that 
 the cavern, to whose sheltering roof he 
 thought himself so much indebted, 
 would soon be his sepulchre : yet he 
 comforted himself with this sad reflec- 
 tion, ^* Better to meet the arm of death 
 at once, than linger out perhaps long 
 years of hopeless wretchedness." 
 
 The flint was now struck, the tinder 
 was applied to the heath, and by its 
 momentary flashes, he saw the horrors 
 which surrounded him : the scowlino- 
 looks of truculent pursuers, the impend- 
 ing fragments of the rocks, all appeared 
 truly appaUing through the medium of 
 
 the
 
 215 THE WHITE KXIGHT, 
 
 the pale and sickly light, which afford- 
 ed the glimmering prospect. Having 
 cautiously stationed himself behind a 
 ridge which projected into the cavern, 
 he sat scarcely daring to breathe, half 
 suffocated with the smoke produced by 
 tlie wet heath^and ferns which composed 
 their fire : in the intermission of tlie 
 storm, at intervals, he heard woids cal- 
 culated to add to the horrors of his dis- 
 mal situation. 
 
 "' What a confounded chase this fel- 
 low has led us !" said one; '^ I warrant 
 you, however, he is not far off, and I 
 am lialf inclined to think that he has 
 got among the monks at the monas- 
 tery." 
 
 '* If so he is safe, " exclaimed another ; 
 
 «* God
 
 THE WHITE KNIGHT. ^17 
 
 ^' God forbid we should do him any 
 harm /here I (and devoutly crossed him- 
 self;) but if we had him here, it would 
 be quite another thing." 
 
 So often do we perceive the real in- 
 terests of religion neglected, and its 
 most sacred ordinances violated, Avhilst 
 its external decorations are treated with: 
 veneration and respect. 
 
 '' Ye5," said the savage chief of this 
 sanguinary band, '' if we had him here, 
 this (drawing his dagger) would soon be 
 in his heart, and I'd warrant you he'd 
 never dream of his lady Ella again. " At 
 that Deloved name an involuntary sigh 
 escaped from the bosom of Allan ; the as- 
 sassins started, each exclaiming, '' What 
 noise was that ? did you not hear it ?" 
 
 •VOL. I. L '' 'Tis
 
 218 THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 ** 'Tis the wind whistling through 
 the cavern, " said another ; '^ or, perhaps, 
 a fox m his earth that disturbs you." 
 
 ^^ I'm convinced 'twas something 
 more than that," said the ruffian who 
 appeared to be their chief, *^ and I shall 
 
 try " At that moment a gust of 
 
 wind, attended by a torrent of rain, 
 burst in upon them ; he dropped the 
 tinder, the fire was extinguished, and 
 the}'^ were left in utter darkness. 
 
 '* Look for the tinder," said their fe- 
 rocious leader. — His order was obeyed, 
 but to no purpose; it was ncJ to be 
 found : <* And even if it was," said one 
 of the gang, *' the rain must have ren- 
 dered it useless." A hollow blafl now 
 crept along the cave, and they all seem- 
 ed
 
 TFIE WHITE KNIGHT. ^19 
 
 vd satisfied that what they lately heard 
 was the effect of the murmuriiio; whid. 
 
 '' We must not stay shivering here 
 all night," said their chief ; "though mx 
 have made an unsuccessful excursion, 
 yet we must make up a probable story 
 for Tyrone, and assure him that his 
 enemy is no more : let us therefore 
 direct our course towards the castle." — 
 They obeyed, and Allan had soon the 
 pleasure of hearing the sounding hoof^ 
 of their departing horses. 
 
 ilie storm still raged with violence, 
 and Allan having crept from his lurk- 
 ing-place, sat at the outer edgt of the 
 cave, waiting with impatience for the 
 first dawn of the morning. His dismal 
 retreat became irksome to him. and yet 
 ' '^ he
 
 VW THE WHITE KNIGHT. 
 
 he did not wish to commit himself A 
 solitary wanderer on the desolate heath, 
 lest he should encounter once more the 
 dangers of a proximity to his merciless 
 pursuers. As lie groped around, his foot 
 struck against a suhstance, which, on 
 examination, he found to he the remnant 
 oi^ a loaf left hy the assassins ; he also 
 found a bottle containing some spiritu- 
 ous liquor: and welcome, truly welcome, 
 were the offerings of chance to the im- 
 perious wants of Allan ; for his limbs 
 v/ere benumbed with cold, and he had 
 been hours witliout any refreshment ; 
 nature v/as nearly exhausted by the un- 
 usual privation, accustomed as he had 
 been to the board of festivity, and the 
 blessings of anticipating care. 
 
 The storm now abated, and as the 
 
 murky
 
 ruE irniT'E knight. £fl 
 
 murky shades of ni^lit withdrew, the 
 faint streaks of th.e nioniing shed a 
 ^i?ckly ray througli the heavy mists that 
 still loitered on the hills, and the gloomy 
 raiio-e of clouds ^vhieh invested the fir- 
 mament: he thou'iht it a favouralde 
 hour for his depr.rture, heing a glimmer- 
 ing medium between light and dark- 
 ness, Having therefora taken a farewell 
 • view of his dismal though friendly re- 
 -trcat, he issued forth the child of 
 chance, and traversed tkiC wild brow of 
 the mountain, not knowing where to 
 seek for an asylum. 
 
 Bv deo-rees the liui^-erino; shades of 
 night totally disappeared ; and tlie ros^^ 
 hours succeeding, drew back the crim- 
 son curtains of the East. After the tor- 
 rents of rain which had so lately de- 
 scended,
 
 222 THE WHITE KNTGHT. 
 
 seen (led, tlie paths were deep and weari- 
 some ; though tlie atmosphere, reheved 
 from such a weight of incumbent waters, 
 was clear, and the blue firmament shone 
 w^ith a brighter azure through afewscat^ 
 tcred clouds v\diich still floated on the sur- 
 face of the spacious concave. He now 
 perceived the turrets of tiie monastery of 
 Morne ; and at a little distance, on a 
 lordly eminence, the castle of Dromore* 
 In the hiterval was a beautiful valley, 
 which he could not survey witl)out emo- 
 tion ; his dream, and the words, ** those 
 fields are thine !" recurred to his mind 
 with attendant conjectures.- — '^Alas!'*" 
 lie exclaimed, "fallacious fancy ! ho\\r 
 dost thou delight to cheat us with thy 
 golden visions, that we may be released 
 froin thy sHkcn fetters, only to wear the 
 ^hackles of real calamity, and to feel its 
 
 sting
 
 THE ^VHITE KNIGHT. 223 
 
 stmg more poignantly, when contrasted 
 with those phantoms of bliss which 
 lately had beguiled us !*' — Such were the 
 ejaculations of the outcast of Glanville, 
 as he turned with melancholy steps to- 
 wards the monastery of 3rIorne. 
 
 EXD OF VOL. I. 
 
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