LIBRARY 
 
 1 UNIVERSITY OF 
 V/CAUFOftNtA 
 
/BE R K E I E Y\ 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 I UNIVERSITY OF 
 V CALIFORNIA J 
 

 
 
 * 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, 
 
 BY PATRICK DONAHOE, 
 In the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 Electrotypcd at the Boston Stereotype Foundry, 
 No. 19 Spring Lane. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 NANCY KELLY OP THE "GAP" AND HER ACQUAINTANCES. . 5 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 WHICH MIGHT HAVE BEEN THE FlRST ; OR, A PEEP BEHIND 
 
 THE CURTAIN 19 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE INFORMER 28 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IN WHICH IT IS MADE TO APPEAR THAT SAINTS AND SlNNERS 
 MAY BE UNITED TOGETHER IN A COMMON BROTHERHOOD 
 
 BY THE AID OP RELIGION. 45 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AN IRISH FAIR, WITH ITS PECULIARITIES ; WHICH, BEING NA 
 TIONAL, FOR THE MOST PART, ARE VERY UN -ENGLISH, 
 AND OF COURSE VERY ABSURD 65 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE SAME CONTINUED. ANOTHER LETTER OF SOME IMPOR 
 TANCE 80 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 BEING A CHAPTER OF REFLECTIONS 80 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 THE IRISHWOMAN AS SHE OUGHT TO BE 103 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CONTAINING AN IRISH RECEIPT FOR COOLING THE BLOOD. . 119 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 THE ORANGE LODGE 134 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 THE SICK-CALL 145 
 
 3 
 
 052 
 
4 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 SHOWING HOW THE DEVOUT READING OF THE BIBLE CON 
 TROLS AND CALMS THE PASSIONS 165 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 A Pious LANDLORD DIRECTING HIS AGENT HOW HE MAY 
 
 BEST ADVANCE THE SPIRITUAL AND TEMPORAL INTER 
 ESTS OF HIS TENANTS 184 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 BEING THE SHORTEST CHAPTER IN THE BOOK 205 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 THE CROSS AND BEADS. KATHLEEN KENNEDY 209 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 CONTAINING SOME SECRETS THAT MAY PROVE VERY INTER 
 ESTING TO " RELIGIOUS TEA-PARTIES," DEN S THEOLO 
 GY LECTURERS, OLD MAIDENS, AND NURSERY-GIRLS. . . 231 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ELLEN O DONNELL AND SHANDY M GuiRE APPEAR AS TWO 
 VERY DIFFERENT CHARACTERS IN THE DRAMA OF IRISH 
 LIFE 240 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 LIGHTS AND SHADOWS 258 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 A NIGHT IN THE MOUNTAINS. DUMPY DOWSER S LAST 
 
 DANCE 278 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 WHICH CONTAINS A FEW DRAMATIC REPRESENTATIONS, IL 
 LUSTRATIVE OF THE SPIRIT OF THE TlMES AND OF THE 
 PEOPLE 290 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE AGENT AND THE BAILIFF ARE BROUGHT FROM DARK 
 NESS INTO LIGHT 310 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 IN WHICH AFFAIRS BECOME CRITICAL 319 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 THE CONCLUSION. . . .... 333 
 
SHANDY M GUIRE; 
 
 OR, 
 TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 NANCY KELLY OF THE " GAP " AND HER ACQUAINTANCES. 
 
 THE sun had just arisen on the twenty-sixth of October, 
 182-. His early beams were beginning their gradual as 
 cent up the rocky side of Barnes Mountain. This moun 
 tain is the highest of a range running east and west for a 
 distance of some thirty miles, and bisecting the county 
 Donegal. The stage-road, leading directly from the little 
 village of that name to the city of Londonderry, passes 
 through this chain of hills at right angles. The gorge or 
 ravine, through which the road winds along by the side of 
 a small rivulet, would seem to the approaching traveller to 
 have been the effect of an earthquake, so precipitously do 
 the sides of the mountain rise, dark and jarred, as if it re 
 quired a powerful effort of nature, in her very sulkiest 
 mood, to tear rather than split them asunder. This chasm, 
 extending north and south for four miles, and enclosed by 
 walls, on either side, of dwarf limestone, rising in some 
 places to the height of three hundred feet, has no human 
 habitation within it, nor indeed any other signs of man s 
 vicinity. It is at all times a d reary road, bleak, darksome, 
 and dispiriting to the wayfarer, for he takes in, in one 
 
 5 
 
6 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 glance, the whole cheerless vista, and then all is gloom 
 and melancholy, till he issues out from the glen on a hap 
 pier and brighter prospect. 
 
 On the very summit of the " eastern half," as it is called, 
 of Barnes, is a small lake, or pond, of great depth, and 
 perfectly circular. Owing to its lofty situation, the at 
 mosphere is cold, foggy, and disagreeable to the occasional 
 visitor, and yet the oldest inhabitant in the neighborhood 
 never remembers to have seen it frozen over in the coldest 
 winter. It is known by the name of " Lough Devenish," 
 and has been the haunt of the smuggler, or private distil 
 ler, time immemorial. Many attempts have been made, 
 from time to time, to surprise him in his stronghold ; but 
 he invariably escaped. In vain did the gauger or prevent 
 ive officer reach within hearing of the smuggler s voice, 
 nay, could sometimes hear his foot-falls on the soft marshy 
 ground, as he passed to and fro in the hurry of his profit 
 able employment; still he escaped, by night or by day 
 capture was impossible so thought the smuggler at least ; 
 and his fancied security made him bold, adventurous, and 
 successful. 
 
 As we have already said, it was the early morning, one 
 of those cold, gray mornings, so very common in Ireland 
 about the end of October. A light hoar-frost had covered 
 the ground, but was now beginning to disappear on the ap 
 proach of the first beams of the sun, when a young man 
 might be seen descending the mountain, near the "gap," 
 as the entrance to the glen was usually called. He leaped 
 rather than walked down the precipitous cliffs ; and, if one 
 could judge from his almost reckless rapidity of descent, 
 was evidently well acquainted with the localities. He 
 might have been somewhere about the age of twenty- 
 three ; tall, well proportioned, and strikingly handsome. 
 His countenance was open, frank, and prepossessing, with 
 sufficient intellectuality about it to raise him, in the opin 
 ion of an accurate observer, a little above the common 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 7 
 
 class of Irish peasants. His dress was of the kind generally 
 worn by farmers sons of that period, a frock and trou 
 sers of blue homespun frieze. His cap was apparently of 
 the same material, if we except a band of hare or rabbit 
 skin that formed the rim, and gave to that article of dress, 
 and indeed to the whole person of the wearer, a smart and 
 somewhat dashing appearance. 
 
 He had, in a very few minutes, reached the high road, 
 and was proceeding briskly on his journey, when a voice 
 from behind called to him to take his time and wait for 
 company. 
 
 " Ye maun be in an unco hurry," said a little man on 
 horseback, riding up close to him, dressed in a huge-caped 
 overcoat, glazed hat, and buff gaiters, evidently a Crom- 
 wellian, as his accent and language strongly indicated ; 
 " if yer gaun to the fair, jist tak yer time, an we ll jog on 
 thegither." 
 
 "An welcome," said the young man ; "I m always glad i 
 the company," and, turning to the stranger, he greeted him 
 in the fashion of his country ; " you must have had a long 
 journey, neighbor," he continued ; " the baste seems to be 
 middlin tired." 
 
 " Weel, I canna say it was very lang, frien . I left 
 Stranorlan a while afore day, an rode to keep the bluid 
 frae freezin ; the night was cauld, an the gap, as ye ken 
 maybe, na jist a place for dreemin in." 
 
 " Thrue for ye," replied his companion, thoughtfully ; 
 " many a poor fellow slept soundly in Barnes afore this, 
 that dreamin was little trouble to. It s a cursed place, 
 God between us and harm; if the walls i the auld bar 
 racks beyont there could spake, it s many s the quare story 
 they d tell. But surely," he continued, glancing again at 
 the horse and rider, "surely, now that I remember, I saw 
 that powney more than once afore in this quarter." 
 
 " An weel ye may say that, honest man, an his owner 
 too ; aften hae I gaed through Barnes Gap when plenty 
 
8 SHANDY M GUIRE, OK, 
 
 wuclna di it. I m drawin eight years now on this road 
 baith night and day, and am na afeered to say mony a guid 
 wallet o siller, I hae carried ahint me in the wee bit sad 
 dle-bags, and still, frien, if the truth maun be towld, deil 
 as much as the price o a pipe o tobacca I lost in it, bad 
 an a as the Gap is." 
 
 " If what the people say bees true," observed the young 
 man, " ye surely have reason to be thankful." 
 
 " Weel, maybe so, but yer na to be trustin half the 
 clavers that s goin , an a body maun aye praise the fool 
 as he finds him. As for auld Duncan here, he s no at him- 
 sel jist so weel as he ust to be, or it s no much grass he d 
 let grow to his heels atween Stranorlan and Donegal; he s 
 lost a his capers now, and taks the warld easier. But I 
 hae that by me that might gie as much security agin dan 
 ger as auld Duncan e er cud do in his young days ; if 
 needs be I maun use it. It s aye a consolation among the 
 mountains." 
 
 The travellers had now reached a turn of the road, be 
 side which a little thatched cabin was built at the very 
 foot of the mountain, and directly at the entrance of the 
 Gap. 
 
 "Here s Nancy Kelly s," said the horseman, drawing up 
 the loose reins of his bridle: "she ll na be pleased if I din- 
 na pass in, an hae a bit crack wi her. Come in, frien , an 
 tak share o a glass." 
 
 " I m thankful to you," said his companion : " sure it s a 
 friend id offer it, but I ll take nothin i that kind till the 
 day s older." 
 
 " Hout man ! ye ll na be the waur o a taste this raw 
 mornin come in." 
 "I d rather not." 
 
 " Weel, weel ! corne in any way ; sure it s not eat ye will 
 do." 
 
 The horseman alighted at the door, and having turned 
 Duncan towards the little stable, entered Nancy Kelly s, 
 of Barnes Gap. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 9 
 
 " Guid day, neighbor," said he, as he passed the thresh 
 old, " yer guy an early at wark this mornin ." 
 
 The person thus addressed was busy at her wheel, spin 
 ning her hank for the market. She was amusing herself 
 humming some old Irish air, as was her wont, when en 
 gaged at such employment little expecting customers 
 would drop in so early in the day. She might have been 
 sixty, or perhaps a few years older yet still hale and 
 healthy. Her figure as she sat at the wheel was remark 
 ably neat and tidy for a woman of her age. She wore a 
 large cap that covered the whole head from the temples to 
 the nape of the neck, and around which were swathed, in 
 shape of a band to keep her warm, several yards of striped 
 drugget, similar to what she wore in her gown and apron. 
 Nancy, notwithstanding she had never been thirty miles 
 from the spot on which she was born, yet had seen a good 
 deal of the world s ways. Experience had long taught 
 her how to manage her little affairs with profit to herself 
 and satisfaction to her customers. She had the kind word 
 and welcome for every one, and all who knew her (and 
 who was it in the whole country round that did not know 
 old Nancy of the Gap) were rejoiced to hear of her wel 
 fare and happiness. One child only she ever had, and he, 
 in her own expressive language, was " not jist as he ought 
 to be, the creathur." Her husband was dead nearly twen 
 ty years, at the date of this story, and Nancy never could 
 find it in her heart, as she often said, to marry again to 
 bring a strange man over poor "Dick, the omedawn."* 
 She paid neither rent nor taxes. Her cabin was small, and 
 easily kept in repair, as warm and snug as a beehive. 
 She had a bed for herself in the little room behind the 
 dresser, one for Dick beside the fire, and another to spare 
 in the opposite corner, for the poor distressed wanderer, 
 when he came round looking for his bit, and his sup, and a 
 night s lodging. 
 
 * Simpleton. 
 
10 SHANDY M GUTRE, OR 
 
 On hearing the voice behind her, she rose hastily from 
 her seat, and wiping the dust from her apron, greeted the 
 new-comer. 
 
 " Musha yer welcome, Mr. Doogan ; sure it s a sight for 
 sore eyes to see you, so it is. Sit down, and take a glaze 
 i the fire. An who s this ye have with ye Frank Dev 
 lin, beclad I was amost not knowin ye, Frank. Draw a 
 chair both o ye to the fire the mornin s cowld. Will 
 ye rise out i that, ye lazy fellow," she continued, speaking 
 to Dick, in a somewhat louder tone : " rise up, an let the 
 dacent people to the fire. Well, Mr. Doogan, an how diz 
 the warld use you this hundher years ? " 
 
 " Why, I canna complain, Nancy," replied her acquaint 
 ance ; " we saw better times an waur, but gin a body gets 
 his share o what s goin he shudna grumble." 
 
 " To be sure, dear, God is good to us, and it s thankful 
 we d ought to be, whin he leaves us the mouthful to eat, 
 and the roof to cover us." 
 
 " Is there anything warm in the house we d get a taste 
 o ? " said Doogan, interrupting her in the pious remarks 
 she was evidently about to make, and rubbing some small 
 pieces of tobacco between the palms of his hands. " I 
 met this young lad doun by there, and brought him in to 
 tak share o a glass." 
 
 " Indeed, then it s little ye know about it, neighbor, if 
 it s in the house ye think we cud keep it, an them still- 
 hunters and gangers rummagin night an day about the 
 hill-foot here. But sure if it isn t here," she added, smil 
 ing, " it s not so far away but we can get it without search 
 ing the parish." 
 
 Nancy having placed a chair beside the dresser, mounted 
 
 "on it with surprising activity, and while she busied herself 
 
 to find the spigot behind the dishes, continued the subject. 
 
 " Times is greatly changed, Misther Doogan, from what 
 they used to be. I mind when it s not hidin the spigot I d 
 be, nor the keg neither ; och, augh, weans dear, the ould 
 
TEICKS UPON TEAVELLEHS. 11 
 
 times was the good times, when a body cud do what they 
 like t with their own; but what s the use i talkin i them 
 now, when it s every day oulder an every day worse they re 
 gettin , jist like ourselves, I ll warrint. What d ye think," 
 she continued, turning on the chair with an air of offended 
 dignity, and facing her visitors, " what d ye think Joice the 
 gauger said to me th other day? He wanted me to inform 
 on the boys above at Lough Devenish deil a less it was, 
 ha! ha!" and the old woman laughed in very mockery of 
 the thought. 
 
 "Yer na the first, maybe," observed Doogan, "he 
 coaxed to di him that favor. There s mair people goin 
 than s a honest." 
 
 " Och, then, bad luck to the dhurty fingers that id take 
 his bribe," said Nancy, bitterly ; " murdher itself s dacent 
 compared with that" 
 
 " It id be a charity to the parish he s livin in, to twist 
 the neck aif him, the villain," interrupted Frank Devlin, 
 with some warmth of expression. " It isn t enough for 
 him to do his duty (and I wouldn t blame him for that, 
 seein he s sworn to it), but he must overdo it; and more 
 nor all insultin the poor widow woman with his informin , 
 because she is poor and helpless, and no one to stand up 
 for her. But it s no wondher, sure, the clean blood s not 
 in him, any way ; we mightn t expect any better from him, 
 the turncoat that he is, a burning shame and disgrace to 
 the country he came from." 
 
 "It s the truth yer sayin , Frank," replied the widow, 
 elevating her voice still more, and placing her hands on 
 her sides, with arms akimbo, " but listen till ye hear ; in 
 troth I ll be a flay in yer stockin afore yer much oulder, 
 Mrs. Kelly, siz he, if ye don t give us a wink i the place 
 above. I know, siz he, well enough what they are ; they re 
 good neighbors, of coorse, Mrs. Kelly, and kindly too, if a 
 body can judge i the fat pigs you can send to the market, 
 and you not havin a spot for pratee ground ; to be sure 
 
12 SHANDY M GUIBE, OR 
 
 they give ye the grains a?i the potale to feed them on, an 
 well ye desarve it, seem yer convanient to them, and use 
 ful, if it was only in regard i givin them the news, and a 
 coal maybe now and then to light the still fires ; but you 
 know. Nancy, my friendship s better nor the grains, ony 
 day, siz he, and ye d do well to keep that same while it s 
 in yer offer. An whusper, Nancy, siz he, takin me by the 
 sleeve; yer a lone woman and an honest one, siz he, and 
 indeed I d like to befriend ye in yer ould days, so jist tell 
 us i the place above the sacret, you know how we ll take 
 them ; and see, Nancy, by all that s great, I ll give ye more 
 in one day, than ye ll make at half-pints and glasses these 
 five years to come. I ll niver open my lips to mortial 
 brathin about it. And rnind me, Nancy Kelly, it s not 
 what I d gain by the fine I care for no, siz he, not the 
 value i the turf on yer fire there ; but I d be made an in 
 spector of yes, that s the reward for takin the Gallinachs 
 of Lough Devenish, for the colonel himself has set his heart 
 on them. So, Nancy, let out the sacret, and ye ll get 
 a dacent consideration, something that 11 do ye good, 
 when, maybe, ye ll be most in want of a friend." As the 
 old woman finished this long and somewhat tedious report 
 of the ganger s proposal, she paused for a moment to ex 
 amine the effect which her words might have produced on 
 the countenance of her auditors, particularly on that of 
 Doogan, to whom she seemed specially to address herself, 
 and then continued: " Now, neighbors, did ye iver hear the 
 equal i that, to buy my sowl for a consideration, ay, 
 that s the very word. Och ! in throth its jist like him; he 
 made away with his own sowl, to get to be a gauger ; an 
 he thinks, I ll warrint, every other might do the same. 
 Wasn t he," she added, " one i the Joices i Connaught, 
 one i the rale ould stock that was Romans, and their fathers 
 afore them, since the flood ? " 
 
 "Ye might tak yer davie o that, wi a clean conscience," 
 replied Doogan, as he puffed his tobacco, his head now 
 bent down, and his arms leaning across his knees. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 13 
 
 " Ay," continued the widow, in a tone of voice that spoke 
 her contempt more eloquently than words could do it ; "ay, 
 an now he s a Protestan . O, to be sure, a rale alumnach* 
 out an out; an gaes to church like the rest i the gran 
 folks, carryin his Bible undherhis arm, an singin hymes 
 with the minister s sister the skinflint that id make ye 
 hungry to look at her, so it wad. But he needn t think to 
 buy my sowl with his considtheration ; no, no," she added, 
 adjusting her cap, and smoothing back her gray hairs with 
 an air of affectation, " no, no, Mr. Doogan, death before in- 
 formin ; no, there s no dirty blood in the Kelleys; nor it 
 never was said to one i the breed they did the mane 
 thine/. " 
 
 Whether Doogan suspected the old woman to have 
 made some secret allusion to himself in the last sentence 
 she uttered, or whether it was from impatience of her 
 delay in finding the articles she was in quest of, it would 
 at present be difficult to determine; but at all events, he 
 again requested to be Served with the liquor as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 Our hostess at length succeeded in finding the spigot, 
 and descending from her tribune, hastened from the cabin, 
 motionino- to Frank Devlin to follow her. 
 
 O 
 
 The young man cheerfully accompanied the widow to 
 the spot where the keg was deposited. It was at some 
 distance from the house, and behind a ledge that butted 
 on the east end of the stable. She directed her companion 
 to roll over carefully a rock that lay on the marshy soil 
 directly under the ledge, as if it had fallen from the height 
 above, and found a chance resting-place on the level ground 
 below. 
 
 " It s a strange hidin -place," observed Nancy, smiling ; 
 "it s simple, but sure. Many s the time Joice sat there, 
 ay, on that very same rock, while his men were scowrin 
 
 * Contemptuous name for English Protestant. 
 
14 SHANDY M GUIRE, Oil 
 
 the hills up there after their prey. Aisiest hid isn t aisiest 
 foun always, you know. There now," she continued, "lift 
 out the keg out man! don t be afeard there s not a 
 sowl stirrin about sure I was up there on the knowe 
 afore ye came in as for Doogan, there s one to watch 
 him." 
 
 " Oh," said Frank, carelessly, " there s little fear of him ; 
 he s but a stranger in these parts, I suppose ; but anyway, 
 Nancy, it s better be sure than sorry." So he hastened to 
 fill the pitcher, and replace the rock in its usual position. 
 
 "A stranger," repeated the widow; "not so great a 
 stranger maybe as you take him for ; and listen to me, 
 Frank Devlin, a word s sometimes as good as a sarmint. 
 I d jist trust him as far as I d throw him. So that s enough 
 now; laste said s soonest mended. Keep yer mind to 
 yerself, and drink none with him till I see ye again. But 
 where did you happen in with him, Frank ? " demanded 
 Nancy, as if some new idea had suddenly crossed her 
 mind. 
 
 " Not a gunshot from the house." 
 
 " You were early afoot, Frank ; an where, might a body 
 ax, were ye spendiu the night ? " 
 
 The young man smiled, and pointed in the direction of 
 Lough Devenish. 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " said the widow, with some surprise ; " I didn t 
 think you had anything to do with that business." 
 
 " No more I haven t, Nancy." 
 
 " Musha in troth then, Frank, dear, ye do well, for it s 
 poor, slavish work, so it is; niver a minit at aze while 
 there s a drap in the worm, or a grain in the kieve,* but 
 splashin for iver in wet and cowld, and then the dan 
 ger-" 
 
 " Hugh ! " interrupted the young man, " as for danger, 
 why there s danger in everything we lay our hands to 
 
 Vat 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 15 
 
 these times no, no, it s not that I regard but some 
 way I think it s bad and sinful employment. Feen a penny 
 I iver knew was made by it yet but melted away, 
 as Father Domnick often says, like snow off the ditch. 
 There s no luck with it. * And anyway, the Church says 
 agin it, and that ought to be enough for us. No, no, it 
 was another little business brought me up there." 
 
 From the smile, and the peculiar intonation accompany 
 ing the last words of the speaker, Nancy judged there was 
 some secret connected with his visit to the hill. She 
 paused for a moment to conjecture what it might be, and 
 then with an affected carelessnes, repeated the words, 
 
 " Other business well, av coorse that s yer own affair." 
 
 " Oh, nothing but a mere trifle," he replied, determined 
 to tempt her curiosity still further ; "nothing of any conse 
 quence but Doogan is waiting," he added, moving to 
 wards the house. 
 
 " Let him wait there," said Nancy, somewhat pettishly, 
 for she felt by no means satisfied with the answer she 
 received. 
 
 " I ll engage," she observed, hazarding another guess at 
 the secret, " maybe it was a drop for the weddin ye were 
 bespakin ." 
 
 " Hugh ! nonsense, woman ; what puts that in yer head ? " 
 
 " Deil a hapworth else it was," ejaculated the widow, 
 looking full in Frank s fine, open countenance, over which 
 a smile was again passing, that he vainly endeavord to 
 suppress ; " eh, am I right, Frank ? " 
 
 " Out ! come away, I tell ye, Doogan s waiting for ye." 
 
 "Ha! ha!" chuckled the widow at the depth of her 
 penetration ; "ha! my bouchal, I guessed there was some- 
 thin in the win if am blin , am na blunt, as the broken 
 needle said to the tailor, when he sat on t; an tell me, 
 Frank, is it the same one still, Mary Connor?" 
 
 " The very same." 
 
 " Well, well," said the old woman, now in evident good 
 
1G SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 humor, and shaking her hand, in which she held the spigot, 
 playfully at her companion, " ye d desave a saint, so ye 
 wud. Sure, we thought you hadn t the laste nation at all 
 of her, after bein refused last year. An yer goin to 
 marry her after all the abuse they give ye about her at the 
 Lammas market ! " 
 
 "D ye think I d desart her, Nancy, for a broken head in 
 a scrimmage at a fair ; no, not if she hadn t a stitch to 
 cover her if I once said the word." 
 
 "I know it, Frank; in troth the dacency s in ye, for ye 
 wudn t be yer father s son if it wusn t. An maybe it was 
 all for the better; bad scran to me, but myself s glad of it, 
 anyway, for your own sake as well as for hers, tJ^e creathur, 
 for she stuck to ye through thick and thin, so she did ; and 
 not that I d say it, Frank Devlin, an you to the fore, 
 gohans to the purtier couple ill walk the five parishes than 
 Mary Connor and your own four bones, an that s plain 
 spakin deil a purtier ; an tell iz, man, how did ye get 
 the ould joker to consint, after all he said agin the match ? " 
 
 " Sorra much myself knows, Nancy, if it wasn t that re 
 port about the agent." 
 
 Who Cantwell ? " 
 
 " Ay, but av coorse ye heard it." 
 
 " Gahun to the word." 
 
 " Well," said Frank, with a bitterness of feeling apparent 
 in his countenance, which he found it impossible entirely 
 to conceal, " it s scarcely worth the talkin of. You know 
 what he said of poor Mary Curran, because she wudn t con 
 sent to demane herself with him till he broke her heart. 
 God be merciful to her, the innocent creathur, she s now 
 in her grave ! He s not a lucky bird to see comin about 
 any poor man s house ; and so the ould man, her father, 
 thought he used to come too often about Fubbernasiggart 
 to see Mary Connor, so for fear av any danger to her char 
 acter, an seein the difference was only about a trifle, he 
 thinks it s best to let her have her own way. So Nancy, 
 that s the inns an outs of it, as far as I know." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 17 
 
 " And bad enough," replied the dame, in a melancholy 
 tone. " God purtect every creathur from the wickedness 
 that s goin . Bad enough, surely, when the people that 
 ought to save the sowls of the poor are the first to destroy 
 them. There s that innocent girl ye spoke of, Mary Cur- 
 ran, she died of a crushed an broken heart, bekase she 
 cudn t bear the shame that came upon her by that villain 
 Cant well, an his father the recther i the parish. Och, 
 augh ! may God forgive me, but when I see them English 
 Protestan reperbates mockin my dacent neighbor s chil 
 dren in the fair, but I feel some way as if I cud brain them 
 on the spot. Well, well, sure there s One above us all, 
 He knows best what to do for us ; maybe there s good times 
 comin these things can t always go on this way pa 
 tience, Frank, an all ill be right yet." 
 
 " Patience, Nancy, is a good thing if one had enough of 
 it, but Job himselfj if he lived nowadays, cudn t stand it." 
 
 " The aisy way s the best way, acushla, and always ends 
 best." 
 
 " Ay, ay, Nancy, that s father Domnick s story, but we ll 
 soon get tired of it, and so will he, maybe, before all s 
 over." 
 
 " Well, whether or not, dear, niver say agin the priest s 
 advice." 
 
 " I ve tried to be guided by him so far, Nancy, and niver 
 give in to be a Ribbonman, though many s the time I was 
 sorely pressed ; for not to speak i the sin of it, it id bring 
 my father s ould bones to the grave to hear that his son 
 was put out of the congregation for the likes of it, but I 
 pray Providence that I may niver be tempted again as I 
 was last Monday mornin . Nancy, Nancy, it s hard for 
 flesh and blood to stand the trials that s put afore us. 
 When I saw that day the remains iv poor Mary Curran 
 carried in her coffin to the grave, the innocent girl that 
 Archy Cantwell had ruined and murdhered ; to see her 
 there and her father and mother, our honest, dacent, kinly 
 2 
 
18 SHANDY M GTJIRE, on 
 
 neighbors, and her little brothers and sisthers (the crea- 
 thurs that didn t know what they were doin ), to see them 
 cryin about the coffin to see that sight at the gate i the 
 churchyard, and wudn t be let in by the recther, the father 
 i the villain that murdhered her, because they were Cath 
 olics, till the priest id take the 4 stole off his neck, and go 
 in like one uv ourselves.* Ough, Nancy, I d have torn the 
 scoundrel from his horse, only for the priest that stood be 
 side me. But let him keep off anyway, for minister an 
 all as he is, I might be tempted some time or other to do 
 him harm." 
 
 " Whist, Frank dear, God love ye, an don t say that 
 sure he s in betther hands. If they re rich an great now, 
 it s not to last always they can t carry it to the grave 
 with them no, dear, it s all the reward they re to get, 
 and its pity them we ought to do. Let us be content with 
 our ould religion and our poverty, for am thinkin they 
 must go thegither to the end ; they wear well, Frank dear, 
 an no disgrace but a blissin to them that takes care i 
 them. Our Saviour himself was poor, and persecuted more 
 nor iver we were, and surely ye oughtn t to be ashamed to 
 suffer like him. The time ill come when we ll all see 
 whether our cross an our beads ill be an upcast to us. So 
 God bliss ye, Frank, an niver bring that same cross to 
 shame and disgrace afore them that s its enemies, bekase 
 they re too proud to wear it." And so saying, she pre 
 ceded her companion to the cabin. 
 
 * This was quite a common occurrence in the North at that time, 
 and even since the passage of Emancipation. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 19 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 WHICH MIGHT HAVE BEEN THE FIRST ; OK, A PEEP BE 
 HIND THE CUKTAIN. 
 
 WHATEVER may have given rise to the suspicions Nancy 
 entertained of Doogan, the butcher (for that was his trade), 
 and which she communicated in some degree to her young 
 friend, they certainly made an impression, and he resolved 
 accordingly to be cautious of new acquaintances, and of 
 his fellow-traveller in particular. 
 
 The widow was said to be (in the language of that part 
 of the country) " a wise, canny old woman." She had 
 lived in the cabin at the "Gap " for more than forty years, 
 and owing to her situation of life, had acquired consider 
 able experience of the world. The little white pitcher and 
 glass were always exposed in the window a sure indica 
 tion, in those days, of something warm within for the trav 
 eller, before he entered on the dark and desolate glen of 
 Barnesmore. In other words (as the reader will doubtless 
 have already suspected), Nancy kept a Shebeen* got a fail- 
 share of all the odd pence were going, and what she valued 
 nearly as much, a very large share of the news and gossip 
 of the county. Frank saw all this at a glance, and was 
 perfectly satisfied she had not spoken so disparaging of 
 Doogan, without some strong reason. He had been told 
 of spies going through the county, paid by government 
 for the detection of Ribbon conspiracies, and ready at any 
 
 * Dram Shop. 
 
20 SHANDY M GUIRE, OK 
 
 moment, under very slight pretences, to deliver up the in 
 nocent as well as the guilty, into the hands of the execu 
 tive. He often heard the priest caution his people against 
 secret societies, under any and every form, or for any pur 
 pose, however feasible, and frequently denounce those who 
 had been known as the leaders of such parties, from the 
 altar of the parish. Unlike some intemperate and insub 
 ordinate young men among his acquaintances, he never 
 questioned the motives which actuated the pastors of the 
 Catholic Church in suppressing secret societies. Convinced 
 of its infallibility in matters of faith, and of its consummate 
 wisdom and prudence in matters of discipline, he bowed 
 at once submissively to its precepts, conscious, that if ho 
 once disputed its authority, or examined its reasons or its 
 motives before he adopted its rules or its doctrine, he was 
 no longer a Catholic in spirit, but only in name. 
 
 But, besides the spy system, there was another nearly 
 allied to it perhaps growing out of it which never has 
 been paralleled in the history of civil governments, in the 
 existence of which few, indeed, could be induced to be 
 lieve, if they had not the surest proofs to satisfy them of 
 the facts. We mean the system of " spotting," as it was 
 then familiarly called. It was sufficient that papers, or 
 any other equivocal evidence of partyism were found on 
 the person or property of the Catholic, with or without 
 his culpable knowledge, to subject him to imprisonment 
 and transportation beyond the seas. By this scheme, every 
 man was exposed to arrest he might be placed at any 
 moment at the mercy of the laws, and every subordinate 
 of the government, down to the lowest policeman, have 
 abundant opportunities of satisfying his personal resent 
 ment. 
 
 The Catholic religion, even so lately as the year 182-, 
 was practised in the North of Ireland, less by right than 
 by sufferance. Its enemies had long felt it was not in their 
 power -utterly to extinguish it ; but they hoped, by a heart- 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 21 
 
 less and unremitting petty persecution, so to stigmatize and 
 debase its followers, that shame and opprobrium might at 
 length have the effect of forcing them to abandon it, and 
 adopt the more fascinating and more accommodating doc 
 trine of Protestantism. Such a line of policy they had 
 every facility necessary to carry out. The ministers of the 
 Anglican Church were almost without an exception in the 
 commission of the peace, and therefore had a large propor 
 tion of the civil power of the country placed at their con 
 trol. On the other hand, the county treasuries were under 
 the management of the grand juries, consisting entirely of 
 tory landlords and their agents ; and they, for the most 
 part, masters and district superintendents of Orange lodges. 
 Then the police, in the third place, were the nominees of the 
 loyal aristocracy ; and, if we can judge from well-ascer 
 tained facts, seemed to have been intended more as a legal 
 ized embodiment of all the illegitimacy of the land, than 
 as a respectable force, established for the protection of life 
 and property. This rural police, supported by the enor 
 mous sum of half a million and upwards, drawn from a 
 country already on the verge of starvation, had yet no 
 sympathies in common with its people. Educated as they 
 were, chiefly in the charter schools and various other asy 
 lums for unfatherless orphans, they naturally grew up and 
 came out upon the world with all the rancorous prejudices 
 of these famous establishments. " They were just the men," 
 as Lord G ch said before " George " raised him to the 
 peerage, "just the men a viceroy wanted to rule a nation 
 of vagabonds." They were taught to regard the Irish 
 Catholic as the Hindoo regards his neighbor who has lost 
 caste a native, to be sure, born on the same soil and 
 with the same natural faculties, but so degraded and dis 
 graced as to lose all claim to the fellowship of his kind. 
 They saw themselves, to the number of 10,000, scattered 
 over the land, and still united together by the same com 
 mon bond of hatred to everything Catholic, and possessing 
 
22 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 at the same time a jurisdiction and power almost as irre 
 sponsible as it was unlimited. 
 
 What wonder, therefore, if seeing themselves placed in 
 such a position, encouraged by the legislature, and driven 
 on by the clerical magistracy and aristocracy of the North, 
 they adopted every means within their reach to weaken 
 the influence of the Catholic religion in Ulster! What 
 wonder, if they felt it not a matter of choice, but of duty, 
 to their religion and its ministers (their patrons), to per 
 secute the friendless and broken-hearted Catholic, in every 
 form short of open and manifest contempt of the statutes 
 of the realm! Indeed, at such a time, and with the very 
 unequivocal marks of encouragement so often received 
 from their superiors, it is not by any means surprising, if 
 we find in the records of those years numerous instances 
 of policemen charged with the most horrible perjury, un 
 hesitatingly practised on trials for Ribbon conspiracies. 
 It was of no moment to them, whether their victim was 
 innocent or guilty, their persecution was not to be directed 
 against him as a violator of the law exactly, but as a mem 
 ber of the Romish Church. Precisely so they had 
 sworn, on entering the service, and by command of the 
 government, the Catholic religion to be "superstitious, 
 idolatrous, and damnable;" and what stronger reason 
 could they have than this for exterminating, by every pos 
 sible means, the members of its communion ? Besides, 
 they saw Orange lodges in every town and village of the 
 province ; they saw their members parade the streets in 
 broad daylight, carrying offensive emblems, using insulting 
 and abusive language, disturbing the harmony of society, 
 and, in a word, outraging the decencies and civilities of 
 life. All this they saw enacted in the very presence of the 
 magistracy, without let or hinderance men violating with 
 impunity the very laws, in letter and spirit, for the infrac 
 tion of which the Catholic and the Ribbonman were to be 
 visited with signal punishment. It is needless, therefore, 
 
TRICKS UPON TKAVELLEKS. 23 
 
 to say, the constabulary were well aware of the real mo 
 tives of the government, namely, that it neither intended 
 to pass the penal enactment, nor them to enforce it against 
 the individual as a member of an illegal society, but as a 
 follower of a proscribed religious communion. Hence it 
 is we have so many cases of perjury recorded against these 
 convenient instruments of the executive. It was not at 
 all uncommon to see a policeman dragging a Catholic be 
 fore the authorities for trial, on the evidence of a bit of 
 paper found on his person, and of which the victim .was 
 entirely unconscious, till the moment of his arrest. 
 
 Why, therefore, should we wonder, if the Catholics of 
 Ulster, thus goaded to desperation, should adopt some 
 measures for their protection and defence? Abandoned to 
 themselves and their own scanty resources, nay, singled 
 out by the very authorities of the state as victims to be 
 sacrificed, it was naturally to be expected they would lean 
 upon each other foV that support which the state denied 
 them. Such societies, no doubt, are illicit, by divine as 
 well as human law, because, even if they cause no actual 
 injury to person or property, they keep up a continual 
 dread in the bosom of society, which sooner or later leads 
 to the worst consequences the loss of public trust, and 
 the derangement of social order. It is not, therefore, the 
 design of the writer of these pages to vindicate such a 
 system from a charge of moral guilt, but rather to show 
 how powerful a hold religion must have had upon the 
 hearts of those men, who, even when shut out from the 
 communion of the church, and writhing under the lash of 
 a merciless government, were contented to carry the in 
 struments of defence, rather than those of aggression. 
 The reader who has studied the causes of revolutions in 
 other countries, will find them all presented to him in the 
 last half-century of Ireland s history, in forms the most ag 
 gravating and exciting. His wonder will be, that a na 
 tion, thus harassed, did not rise and break her fetters with 
 
24 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 the giant might she possessed, instead of suffering herself 
 to be bound and whipped like a slave. 
 
 The attempt to suppress Ribbon societies in Ulster by 
 civil authority alone, was a complete failure, simply be 
 cause the Catholics regarded such enactments as directed 
 specially against their religion, and because they had long 
 since lost all respect for their political rulers. The more 
 closely the law pursued them, the more urgent did it ren 
 der the necessity of self-defence, until day after day the 
 opposition became more steady and determined, and by 
 degrees better organized and more concentrated. Then 
 there was a pause. Each party gazed at the other with a 
 strange mixture of irresolute courage and fearful apprehen 
 sion resolved not to retreat, and yet doubtful as to the 
 safety of advance. They were somewhat like the warriors 
 in the " fairy tales," imprisoned in old castles, with swords 
 drawn and ready to fall on, just at the moment of their 
 enchantment. The arm of the executive all at once be 
 came powerless. The people began first to sneer, and then 
 to laugh outright, at the impotency of the force that at 
 tempted to subdue them. They felt at last their own 
 power, and resolved to depend upon it alone for protec 
 tion. They soon became an organized body, ill-regulated 
 and badly disciplined, no doubt, but still a united body, 
 formidable in numbers, and dangerous from previous exas 
 peration. In such a perplexed state of affairs, the minis 
 ter had no resource to fly to. His strength, on which 
 alone he depended, was now completely exhausted ; and 
 what was still more provoking, it was by an over-exertion 
 of that very strength he found himself defeated. It was 
 then he felt that Ireland would yet be the difficulty. 
 
 In proportion as this spirit of opposition, on the part of 
 the Catholics, increased, so also did public interest gather 
 round it, to give it importance ; and thus the government 
 had no longer a remote and disregarded people to deal 
 with, as it suited its fancy or caprice, but one coming in 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 25 
 
 day after day still farther on the theatre of the empire, 
 and declaring its right to be acknowledged in that assem 
 bly. Ireland, in fact, at that very period, had been creat 
 ing for itself under a number of fortuitous circumstances, 
 a general sympathy for its suffering condition not only 
 amongst the masses in England, but throughout every part 
 of Europe. The old Catholic nobility and aristocracy of 
 England had begun to creep out on the world after a long 
 concealment. They were making themselves recognized 
 as men whose high standing in society gave them a right 
 to some consideration in political affairs. Catholic disabil 
 ities too were much talked of. The Scotch reviews had 
 succeeded in laying hold of the public mind, and forcing it, 
 by repeated solicitations, to consider the social and politi 
 cal condition of the Irish Catholics. All these causes 
 united, and working together, had sensibly softened down 
 party prejudices and religious animosity. Indeed, so much 
 so, that the Irish for the future should and ought to be re 
 garded as a sect at least, professing Christian principles, 
 and hence entitled to some attention on the part of the 
 legislature. Sir John, the premier, saw all this, but only 
 when it was too late. He was now in a very great diffi 
 culty. He had blustered a good deal (for he was natural 
 ly choleric), and swore he would suppress, at the risk of 
 his popularity, all tendency to Ribbonism, or other illegal 
 societies never dreaming that the sympathy elicited from 
 his own countrymen in favor of Ireland had weakened his 
 authority in proportion as it increased the spirit of oppo 
 sition. What was he to do ? Was he to leave his pledge 
 unredeemed ? It was certainly very provoking. On the 
 one side, he heard some of the greatest and wisest of the 
 land recommend caution in the treatment of a people who 
 possessed the elements of power, and could use them if 
 they pleased ; and on the other, the down-trodden, idola 
 trous creatures, lifting up their heads and smiling in his 
 very face, while they seemed to say, with the most provok- 
 
26 SHANDY M GTJIKE, OR 
 
 ing contempt, " Put up, Sir John, put up your silly sword." 
 What was to be done in this dilemma. After exhausting 
 his ingenuity to no purpose, he came down one night to 
 the Carlton Club, confessed himself defeated, and asked 
 counsel of his friends. Who would save his reputation ? 
 Who stand between him and the danger ? After a dead 
 silence of some minutes, during which every one present 
 expected his neighbor to begin, a gallant colonel, more re 
 nowned for religious intolerance than heroic achievements, 
 said, with a bitter sigh and a sorrowful countenance, "I be 
 lieve, Sir John, you must shake off all delicacy, and try 
 the priests." 
 
 Colonel Templeton was right ; and the advice was, after 
 a few ministerial blushes, and a few hints about shame and 
 delicacy, at length received and adopted. 
 
 But happily the Catholic bishops of Ireland had already 
 anticipated the colonel. They had but a few days before 
 assembled in Capel Street, Dublin, and fulminated the 
 penalties of disobedience to ecclesiastical authority against 
 all under their jurisdiction, who would continue to be, or 
 afterwards become members of any secret society, legal or 
 otherwise, forbidding the inferior clergy, at the same time, 
 to administer the sacraments even to the dying man, if he 
 did not first renounce all connection with such confedera 
 cies. This timely decree was in a great measure effectual. 
 The four fifths of the Ribbonmen submitted, after a short 
 struggle, to the authority of the church. Still there was a 
 large number who affected not to perceive the wisdom of 
 this wholesale suppression of their system, and they, by 
 well-directed manoeuvres, succeeded in keeping alive the 
 old dread of sedition. 
 
 Such was the state of parties in the province of Ulster 
 when this tale commences. In the county Donegal, where 
 the principal incidents of the story occurred, riots of a se 
 rious character had been for some time comparatively few. 
 Still there was a deep though subdued feeling of sectarian 
 
TEICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 27 
 
 prejudice lurking in the bosom of society fostered on 
 the one side by a continual thirst for religious domination, 
 and on the other by the remembrance of a cruel persecu 
 tion. The spirit of revenge which these pent-up feelings 
 had engendered, would sometimes manifest itself in the 
 strangest shapes imaginable. The fanciful manner in 
 which an Irishman often chooses to avenge his wrongs can 
 never be fairly appreciated by a foreigner in fact, gentle 
 reader, you require to be of a temperament as mercurial as 
 his own, if you promise yourself any pleasure in following 
 him through all the wild vagaries of his fancy. And if, 
 after all your endeavors, you cannot enjoy the tricks "we 
 play upon travellers," then you have only to regret that 
 you have not been born in Ireland. But as there may be 
 a difference of opinion on that subject, it is better, per 
 haps, to say no more about it. 
 
28 SHANDY M GUIEE, OB 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE INFOKMEK. 
 
 " WHY, Nancy," said Doogan, as the old woman entered 
 with the pitcher in her hand, followed by Frank, " why, ye 
 might hae singled an doobled it sin ye gaed out, woman ; 
 but auld folks I see maun ha their time, an what s lang a 
 comin they say is aye guid. So ye ha na new news," he 
 continued, "sin I saw ye last hah, changed times wi ye, 
 Nancy ; ye ust to ha a crack in ye." 
 
 "Bad scran to the word I hear, Mr. Doogan, if yerself 
 hasn t it ; you were tould all about the robbery in the Gap 
 I ll warrint ; but sure that s ould news now." 
 
 "Robbery!" ejaculated the butcher; " am in the first 
 place I heard it." 
 
 "Bedad, that s quare enough," observed the widow, look 
 ing sharply at the countenance of the little man ; " myself 
 thought the whole worl heerd it." 
 
 " Hout, sure, I was na here this twa months where 
 cud I heer it ? " 
 
 " Indeed, then, there was, neighbor, a robbery, an a fine 
 brave handful he got whoiver tuck it two hundher poun s, 
 am tould, in bank notes." 
 
 "There s some ane suspeckit, ill bail ye," inquired 
 Doogan. 
 
 " There s plenty suspected," interrupted Frank, "but am 
 thinkin they didn t hit on the right one yit. Whoever he 
 was, he knew the Gap well, for his horse was tracked over 
 the burn below the barrack, where no stranger id venter 
 such a night as that was." 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 29 
 
 " It was a terrible night, na doubt," muttered Doogan 
 unconsciously. 
 
 "And well ye remimber it, friend, you were out, I sup- 
 pose." 
 
 " That I was, man, an many a lang mile fra Barnes 
 down at Ballycastle, where I gaed to buy a sheltre * for 
 the winter s ploughin ." 
 
 " An how did ye find out the night it happened, since 
 you niver heerd of it afore ?" demanded Frank, looking 
 earnestly in his companion s face. 
 
 "Hugh, man ! a child cud tell ye that; sin ye say yer- 
 sel it was an awfu night, an we ken there was na but ane 
 o that kind this twa months and mair ; but hand over 
 the liquor here ; we ll drink to our better acquaintance," 
 and Doogan emptied his glass. 
 
 "Fill none for me," said Frank, as his companion was 
 about to pour out the liquor ; " I care little about it, and 
 now less than iver." 
 
 Doogan again pressed the young man to wet his lips at 
 least, but he pressed in vain. At length, tired with en 
 treaty, and desirous of proceeding on his journey to the 
 fair, he tossed off the remainder, and rose to pay the reck 
 oning. As he opened his pocket-book to find a piece of 
 silver, a sudden noise, accompanied by a loud shout from 
 the stable, attracted his attention. Having handed a six 
 pence to the landlady, he hastened out to ascertain the 
 cause, and found, to his astonishment, "Dick, the ome- 
 daun" seated on Duncan s back, or rather on his neck, his 
 heels stuck fast to his sides, while the poor animal kicked 
 against the stone-wall behind him with uncontrollable fury. 
 Dick s love of horsemanship was known to all the county 
 round. Many a hearty scold did he get from the various 
 customers who alighted at his mother s door to have a 
 " dram " before they prosecuted their journey through the 
 glen. Dick would watch closely till the traveller had taken 
 * Scotcli pony. 
 
30 SHANDY M GUIRE, on 
 
 his glass, lighted his pipe, and was in close conversion with 
 the widow, and then quietly unhooked the bridle from the 
 staple at the door, mounted his horse, and rode up and 
 down, high-road and by-road, mountain and moor, as it 
 pleased his fancy, until he was completely satisfied with 
 his recreation. Doogan had more than once experienced 
 such treatment at Dick s hands, and threatened him with 
 severe chastisement if he ever again took his horse from 
 the door. For this reason, he turned Duncan into the little 
 stable, instead of fastening him at the staple as before ; it 
 was a sort of security, he thought, and besides, he purposed 
 staying longer than usual. Dick, when he entered the 
 stable and saw the animal there right before him, could not 
 for the life of him overcome the temptation to mount. 
 He believed it was no harm in the world to get upon his 
 back, when he had no intention of bringing him out; and 
 besides, Doogan had not charged him to the contrary. 
 Dick, however, never got on horseback unarmed. He 
 made it an invariable rule never to mount without the "jag" 
 in his heel a long, sharp nail, bent spur-fashion, which 
 he wore fastened between the shoe and the stocking. 
 When he found himself, therefore, on Duncan s back, he 
 could not avoid using it, if it were only to try the met 
 tle of the animal. The horse, unaccustomed to such 
 weapons, particularly in such quiet retirement, resisted 
 the application very indignantly by striking at the wall, 
 and Dick, with a sudden feeling of danger, pressed his 
 heels still closer, and clung about the hores s neck to pre 
 vent his falling. This continued application of the steel 
 made the poor animal perfectly savage. 
 
 "Come down, ye devil, come down," roared Doogan, as 
 he entered the stable in a violent passion, his whip raised 
 to threaten Dick, but afraid to venture near the infuriated 
 beast. 
 
 " Hould him," cried Dick, " hould him, or he ll smash 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 31 
 
 " Come doon, ye villain," screamed Doogan, " or I ll 
 brack a the banes in yer body ; come doon this minit." 
 
 " I can t, I tell ye," muttered the poor omedaun, " I can t; 
 sure the jag s in him, an I can t get it out. O, O, he ll 
 spill me under his feet he ll smash me to dugghins " (to 
 pieces). 
 
 " Run an catch him," cried the terrified old woman, 
 " run, Mr. Doogan, or he ll kill the poor witless crathur." 
 
 " O, Christians, dear, is there no one to save me ! " ejacu 
 lated Dick, now almost breathless from excitement, " O, 
 am done, am done ; O, by the hoky, am kilt ; " and as he 
 muttered this last sentence, the horse threw him, by a sud 
 den jerk, from his neck into the manger. 
 
 Doogan made a rush at Dick, and had got him by the neck 
 with his left hand, while the right, wielding the heavy- 
 leaded whip, was descending with terrible force on the 
 head of the culprit, and very probably would have in 
 flicted a mortal blow, for the man was exasperated to mad 
 ness, when Frank Devlin arrested the arm, and Dick es 
 caped from the stable, muttering as he went, " Hah, ha, 
 take that, old dry bones hah, you wadn t stan , ould lazy 
 bones, deil s cure to ye, deil s cure to ye ye wadn t be 
 aisy." 
 
 As soon as matters were adjusted, Doogan mounted his 
 horse, and accompanied as before, proceeded on his jour 
 ney. As he turned from the house, he shook his clinched 
 fist at Dick, who stood at a respectful distance, and swore 
 if he ever caught him again within arm s length he d be 
 the death of him. 
 
 We have been compelled to notice this trifling incident, 
 not merely because it really occurred, but because it gave 
 rise to important consequences ; so much so, indeed, that 
 if Duncan had not attracted the attention of his master at 
 that particular moment, this story never would have been 
 written ; and hence it is, that the heels of a horse may 
 sometimes create a greater noise iu the world than mem- 
 
32 SHANDY M GUIRE, OB 
 
 bers of a far higher class of animals, and of much loftier 
 pretensions. But on we to our theme, as Babington Ma- 
 caulay would say, instead of the more elegant expression of 
 " revenons au moutons" 
 
 Nancy Kelly, on her return to the cabin, found some 
 thing in the shape of a letter lying on the floor, which in 
 her hurry to the scene of Dick s frolic she had passed un 
 observed. 
 
 " Ha, ha," said the old woman, picking it up, " what can 
 this be ? Gahun to the bit, if it isn t a letther, an a purty 
 letther too, so it is a letther for some i the quality, I ll 
 warrint. Well, it was the butcher drapped it, that s sartin, 
 an I ll keep it safe till he comes back in the evenin ." 
 
 As she was about to consign it to a place of safety, the 
 door was suddenly darkened, and another customer entered 
 the " shebeen ; " it was Shandy M Guire, or, as he was 
 sometimes called, Shandy the Scripturian. Every one knew 
 Shandy. He was, indeed, a universal favorite, full of dry 
 humor, and fond of " devilment in every shape," though 
 he never permitted a single feature of his face to betray 
 the pleasurable emotions he experienced. He visited every 
 fair and market, wake and wedding, christening and burial, 
 for twenty miles round. He was master of ceremonies at 
 wakes, chief mourner at funerals, sang his own songs, 
 cracked his own jokes at weddings, and was sponsor at 
 the christenings for more children than any other man in 
 the parish. He could recite whole pages of Pastorini, and 
 as for Columbkill s prophecies, he had them all at his fin 
 gers ends. Shandy was now about thirty-five years of 
 age, far below the middle size, but thick-set, and of a very 
 staid and solemn figure. His hair was black, long, and 
 curly, and his face long, sallow, and demure as that of a 
 grand vizier. His dress, which we must not forget, was 
 rather old-fashioned for a man of his years and pursuits. 
 His stockings were gray, over which a black velvet shorts 
 descended to the calf of the leg, and were there confined 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 33 
 
 by a respectable bunch of green ribbons. His coat, of a 
 brown rusty black, was one of the swallow-tailed species, 
 reaching down almost to the ankles, where the skirts oscil 
 lated from side to side, with a velocity varying directly as 
 the moving body within. Imagine, therefore, gentle read 
 er, that you see this same personage moving under a broad- 
 brimmed hat, his arms to the elbows thrust into his coat 
 pockets, and strutting down with a solemn air, from the 
 king s high-road to Nancy Kelly s " shebeen," and you will 
 *be introduced with all the formality necessary for a first 
 introduction, to the scripturian of the parish, the hero of 
 these pages, and one of the drollest and best-natured Irish 
 men from Horn-head to Cape Clear. 
 
 " The top i the mornin to ye, Mr. M Guire," said the 
 widow, greeting him blithely, as he made his appearance. 
 
 " The same to you, neighbor," he replied, taking his seat 
 at the fire without ceremony. 
 
 " Yer boun for the fair ? but sure I needn t ax you." 
 
 "Ay, I was thinkin on that; but the mornin s young 
 yet, and the fair long a gatherin . I see ye have yer bunch * 
 for the market. There s but a poor price for it, I m tould." 
 
 " Poor enough, Shandy ; dear knows it s hard for poor 
 crathurs to live that hasn t any thing but the grain i the 
 flax to make a penny iv. It s wonderful to think what the 
 world s comin to. I mind whin I us t to get four shillings 
 a spangle for t, ay, an the buyers kempin to get it at that ; 
 an now we can t scarcely get two thirteens. But sure we 
 ought to be thankful, whatever comes." 
 
 "Well, Nancy," observed Shandy, "if we had the par 
 liament yit, it s not that way ye d be ; ould Drimindhu f 
 give us many a bit an sup we ll never get again. Bad luck 
 to the villains that tuck her away from the childher, an 
 them cry in after her for the drap i milk, the creathurs." 
 
 "Och, augh! it s me that knows that," said the widow, 
 
 * Bunch of yarns, f Irish Parliament literally, black cow. 
 3 
 
34 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 in a lachrymose tone, " it s the fine times we had iv it then, 
 plenty to eat and drink, an the world flowin on us. But, 
 sure you wur only a wee cheel (little boy) when that hap 
 pened not as big as the dresser there; poor creathur, 
 ye didn t know what you were losin ; but I niver cud find 
 out," she added, *" how they got Drimindlm away." 
 
 " Faith, dear," replied Shandy, " they stole her dacently 
 they kidnapped her it s a way they have." 
 
 " Kidnapped ! What s that, Shandy ? " 
 
 "Why, they pit a plasther on her mouth, to keep her 
 from routin , just the way they steal people to be insected 
 by the docthers ; and bad win to them, they insected her 
 too cut her up in pieces, so they did." 
 
 "But isn t that murdher an robbery?" 
 
 " Pooh, to be sure it is ; but then, you know, the mur 
 dher was done in a genteel way ; them that did it had the 
 science, Nancy." 
 
 " Well, well, that s quare enough ; but I wondher she 
 was let away so easy ? " 
 
 "Let away," repeated Shandy ; " O, try them for that ; 
 didn t they put a plasther, I m tellin ye, on- the eyes of 
 them that had the care av her. De ye know who ye re 
 spakin av ! Wasn t it the sassenaghs done it? And isn t 
 the marks that same plasther left on them to the fore yet, 
 to thremsels be tould." 
 
 " Marks ! " ejaculated Nancy, incredulously ; " hout, sure 
 it s over twinty years ago." 
 
 " Faith, an if it was fifty, it s true enough. They say 
 their childher have it on them, and that they can tell the 
 differ someway atween them an ither people when they 
 go to parliament." 
 
 " Well, goodness be about iz, if that desn t bate all ; ah, 
 but yer only jokin now, maybe, for that same s what yer 
 best* at?" 
 
 " Jokin ! " he repeated again ; " why, may I be lord chan 
 cellor afore I m a year oulder, if it isn t as true as I m tellin 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. " 35 
 
 it to ye. There s not one i their descendants that s not 
 known in England, as well as a bad halfpenny." 
 
 " Well, hould yer tongue now for a rninit," and the old 
 woman spoke as if she had been impatient of delay in tell 
 ing her secret ; " I ve somethin to show ye. Doogan, the 
 butcher, was here a while ago, him an young Frank, of 
 Oughadeena." 
 
 Here Dick interrupted his mother, to tell Shandy of his 
 morning s ride, holding up the spur between his finger and 
 thumb, and laughing at the sport it occasioned ; but the 
 widow stopped him as he began. " Away out i that," she 
 said, taking the broom in her hand, "away, an don t be 
 deevin iz with yer nonsense ; go out and look afther the 
 sheep, where ye ought to be, and not here listenin to peo 
 ple talkin away now, I tell ye!" and poor Dick slunk 
 out, muttering his displeasure. The widow resumed. 
 
 " I m goin to try ye, Shandy ; I m tould yer a great 
 scholar." 
 
 " Well," he replied, with a scarcely perceptible smile, 
 which, indeed, even on the most exciting occasions he was 
 never known to exceed ; " well, everything a body hears 
 isn t true, for all that." 
 
 " O, but the world says ye ir." 
 
 " Pooh, half i the world niver heard i me yit, woman." 
 
 " They say it s past believin what larnin ye have." 
 
 "Indeed, then, I can t say, nor I won t say it, Nancy ; 
 but I have a great leanin to pelite litherathur." 
 
 " You an Bob Craig had a discoorse down in Peggy 
 Sharkey s, on Sunday last, am tould," said the widow, in 
 quiringly. 
 
 " Pugh ! " muttered Shandy, in a low, stealthy, contemp 
 tuous tone, " pugh ! Bob Craig; hout woman, that was 
 only child s play jist givin him an insight into what he 
 might expect; och, I wasn t hard on him ; no, no, the cra- 
 thur, I give it to him as easy as I could. But I wondher, 
 neighbor," he continued, throwing himself back in the chair, 
 
36 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 and speaking with more dignity, " I wondher ye d be after 
 evnin me to Bob Craig, to sich a fellow as that. If he was 
 a minister, or even a Bible reader, ye might be talkin . He 
 hasn t dived as deep into the larnin as Goodsoul yet ; an 
 I surely give him as much as ought to do him for a month 
 i Sundays to come. When a man has genies, Mrs. Kelly, 
 it ill show itself, though I oughtn t to praise myself. Well, 
 as for Goodsoul, I can t say but he done middlin at the 
 scriptur , sich as he had ; that s, ye know, in quotin what he 
 didn t understan a traneen about; but whin I tuck him in 
 the Hay brew, maybe I didn t bag him while ye d be fillin 
 a glass. Ay, it s all right enough, whin ye let them tear 
 away at the Bible, repeatin it over like parrots ; but whin 
 ye ask them what it manes, or whin ye bring them into 
 the deep languages, ye ll smother them all at once." 
 
 "An what s the Haybrew, Mr. M Guire?" inquired 
 Nancy, her admiration for the scripturian evidently increas 
 ing. 
 
 "What is it? och, och, poor woman," he replied, " it s 
 good for ye, ye know little about it." 
 
 "Why is there any harm in knowin it?" 
 
 " Harm well no, no harm, set in case you cud bear it ; 
 but it s not every brain cud stan it. I ll tell you what it 
 is, Nancy, it set sore enough on myself to master it jist 
 nick an go an if I wusn t one out av a thousand, it s 
 maybe mad through the mountains I d be wanderin ; och, 
 the Haybrew s a dangerous thing to have any dealin s 
 with, even for larned people let alone you, or the likes 
 o ye." 
 
 " An what is it at all ? " inquired the widow, earnestly, 
 rolling up her arms in her apron, and looking steadfastly 
 in his face ; " what is it ? " 
 
 " Why, it s the dead langige," replied Shandy. 
 
 " The dead langige ; humph ! an was it in that ye sacked 
 the minister?" 
 
 "Well, so they say," and here he gave a very self-com 
 placent shadow of a smile. 
 
TEICKS UPON TKAVELLEES. 37 
 
 " An what might it be like ? " said Nancy, drawing up 
 her chair nearer to her friend, for her curiosity was now 
 considerably excited. 
 
 " Fegs, it s like nothin I know, Nancy, if it isn t yerself." 
 
 "Like me?" 
 
 " Ay, jist like you, an no discredit it s to you, either, to 
 be like it, seein there s no Protestan goiri cud stand three 
 words av it. I d like to hear them tell me what s the 
 manin of Urim and Thummim." 
 
 " Well sure, m oblidged, Mr. M Guire, but how is it like 
 me?" 
 
 " Why, then, Nancy, I ll tell ye ; it s old an full o wrin 
 kles and spots, like one that has had the smallpox." The 
 widow was taken completely by surprise. 
 
 "Musha bad luck to yer imperence, Shandy," she retort 
 ed, tying the ribbons of her cap under her chin still tighter, 
 and moving back her chair, "bad luck to yer imperence, but 
 it s well come up with ye. Hah ! that s not bad, to be sure ; 
 an wusn t I young once, young enough when yer ould un 
 cle, lame Mickey, us t to be afther me when I wudn t 
 look at the same side o the road with him ; ay, d ye hear 
 that, Mr. M Guire ; I was young once, am thinkin ." 
 
 " O ! begorra, an so was that same am talkin av," re 
 plied he, with little attention to the old woman s anger; 
 " but like yerself, Nancy, it s a long time ago ; an by the 
 powers it s like ye more ways than one, for it was iver 
 contrary and hard to manage, an then there was so many 
 turns and twists in it, an sich a deludher bad cass to me 
 if iver I see it, but I be thinkin iv the times long ago, after 
 Barney died, when Ned Doherty us t to be sendin me up 
 to ye with the tokens." 
 
 " Whisht, ye divil!" interrupted Nancy, rising up and 
 running to the dresser, " whisht this minit, or all throw 
 the dishcloth at ye ; yer niver at aise, but whin yer at some 
 divilment. It s fitter ye d be makin yer sowl, than clav- 
 erin about them things." 
 
38 SHANDY M GUIBE, OB 
 
 Again the widow resumed her seat, and remonstrated 
 with her friend on the folly of his ways. She assured him 
 that such reminiscences were by no means agreeable to 
 her. She was now old and alone in the world, and had 
 enough to perplex her without recurring to old stories. 
 
 "Now," she added, "give yer tongue a holiday, an 
 listen to me for a minit. I foun something an ill wudger 
 ye don t guess what it is." 
 
 But Shandy was determined to indulge his humor at 
 her expense, knowing well the secret, if there really was 
 one, would come out the sooner the more he appeared in 
 different about it. 
 
 " Maybe," said he, looking at her with a very demure 
 countenance, in which not a single sign of emotion was 
 perceptible, "faith, maybe it was the ring you lost long 
 ago." 
 
 " What ring are ye ravin about?" 
 
 " Why, don t ye mind the ring I brought ye from Ned, 
 an ye lost it nixt night comin home from the market ? " 
 
 " Botheration to me, but 11 take the tongs to ye, if ye 
 don t hould yer tongue," said Nancy, sharply, affecting at 
 the same time to be much annoyed by his raillery ; u in 
 deed, then, it s well worth yer while to upcast that, so it is, 
 when I cud buy a score i them on the standins for a 
 testher apiece ; an bad manners to ye, ye desavin thief \ 
 ye tould me it was wirgin goold, so ye did, an it cost me 
 more glasses nor you an it was worth. It s a thing I niver 
 had afore, I tell ye," she added, raising her voice, as if her 
 auditor was deaf, " now d ye hear that ? " 
 
 " O> by jingo," said Shandy, rubbing his nose with his 
 forefinger very contemplatively, " it id be hard to guess 
 that, maybe it might be religion? he added, looking up 
 very innocently in the anxious face of the widow. " Troth, 
 ill bait ye it was, eh ! am tould it s goin about very plenty 
 these times. It s given at first cost at the prayer meetin s. 
 People say, ould cut the rope, Billy Armstrong, got re- 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 39 
 
 ligion the other day at a meetiii while ye d say Jack Rob- 
 ison. By the pothooks, Nancy, ye were lucky if ye got 
 that; ye ll be a saint in less than no time." 
 
 "Paugh!" ejaculated Nancy, "there s no use to think 
 av stoppin ye; ivery clift (fool) must have his way." She 
 rose from her seat, and filling a glass at the dresser, handed 
 it to Shandy. "Here," she muttered in a peevish, dis 
 satisfied tone, as if the liquor was the last remedy, "here, 
 take this, an see will it stop yer mouth, ye graceless neer- 
 do-weel ; but sure yer tongue s no scandal any way, for it s 
 many a time ye made free with yer own grandmother s 
 bones in the clay, when ye could squeeze a joke out i 
 them." 
 
 Shandy took the glass from her hand with a very care 
 less air, and holding it up between him and the light, 
 said, after a moment s examination, " Humph ! I see it s 
 wathered." 
 
 " Wathered ! What d ye mane, M Guire ? d ye intend to 
 throw a slur on my honesty?" demanded the hostess, 
 rather sharply; for on that point she was very sensitive. 
 
 " Oh, gohans to the honester woman in the kingdom, 
 replied her tormentor. " I was manin only what we call 
 the < mollyficashein, jist a wee drap in the keg to keep the 
 evil spirit out av it. Sure I know it s not chatin ye d be, 
 Nancy ; och, no, it id be ill my common to say that, but ye 
 put only the innocent wather in it to purvent it doin harm 
 these bad times ; and in troth, Nancy, it was well con- 
 sithered av ye, it s the truth am sayin ," and having bowed 
 to the good old dame, he emptied the glass. "Well, now, 
 Mrs. Kelly," he resumed, having wiped his lips, and handed 
 back the glass, "well, what was that you were goin to 
 tell me?" 
 
 "Look at that," was the reply, producing the letter, 
 "an let iz hear what yer larnin can make av it. What 
 name s on it ? " 
 
 The missive bore the following superscription: 
 
40 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 " To Wm. Thomas Joice, Esq., Lieutenant of Revenue 
 Police, Donegal." 
 
 " Humph !" said Shandy, shaking his head with the air 
 of a mandarin, and looking furtively at his companion, 
 " bedad, I don t much like the looks av it. I ll wudger ye 
 a button it s an informashin. De il a less it is, am a most 
 sure. It s no harm to see, for look, it s not saled ; there s 
 only a thread on it; ill open it hout, woman! niver fash 
 yourself; it s no harm I tell ye - now can t ye have some 
 sense, and let me see what it s all about sure 11 fix it up 
 again as well as iver." 
 
 After a good deal of persuasion (for the old woman had 
 a deep sense of the impropriety of the act), he at length 
 was permitted to take the letter from the envelope care 
 fully, and read it. It turned out as Shandy suspected, to 
 be an information lodged by Doogan the butcher before the 
 officer in charge of the party of police stationed at Stran- 
 orlan. Doogan overheard in the house where he had slept 
 the night before the conversation that passed between his 
 landlord and the smugglers; he heard the name of Lough 
 Devenish frequently repeated ; the quantity sold, and the 
 hour of the night when it might be expected. Next morn 
 ing, long before daybreak, he arose and set out for the 
 market. The Revenue Police Barrack was situate on the 
 road-side, at some distance from Stranorlan, so that owing 
 to its position, and the darkness of the night, Doogan had 
 little fear of being detected. Having passed the sentry, he 
 was admitted to the lieutenant s sleeping apartment. The 
 officer at once recognized his visitor, and pointed to a chair 
 beside his bed. The information was given agreeably to 
 the knowledge he had obtained, and a request made that 
 Joice, the lieutenant of the Donegal party, would be 
 invited to come over and make the seizure, as otherwise 
 suspicion would attach to him (Doogan) having slept at 
 the house where the liquor was to be conveyed, and where 
 it was sold, and having to pass the Barrack on his way to 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 41 
 
 the fair at so early an hour. These reasons seemed to 
 satisfy the officer, and he accordingly, after a few minutes 
 delay, gave the desired letter to Doogan, telling him at the 
 same time that Joice would pay him his fees as soon after 
 the seizure as possible. Doogan placed the letter, with 
 a number of other papers, in his pocket-book, and again 
 muffling up his face with the cape of his great-coat from 
 the gaze of the sentry, stole noiselessly away, mounted his 
 horse, and was soon among the wilds of Barnesmore. The 
 night was pitchy dark not a single star to be seen in the 
 whole wide expanse of the heavens, and yet so cold and 
 calm that the feeling of desolation which the scene, even 
 in midday, was calculated to produce, became doubly in 
 creased by the death-like stillness that prevailed. As the 
 informer wended his way through the dismal gorge of the 
 Gap, the silence was sometimes broken by the whistle of 
 the snipe or the peeweet, disturbed from its resting-place 
 by the horse s tread ; and the shrill noise ran and rang 
 along the rocks and caverns on either side, waking its 
 thousand echoes as it went. Doogan rode on, unseen by 
 mortal eye, enveloped in darkness, and communing with 
 his own thoughts, darker and gloomier still. God was 
 there too but he was nnseen, unfelt, and unrecognized. 
 He had now reached the narrowest part of the ravine, and 
 was turning round an angle formed by a rock that rose up 
 almost perpendicularly from the edge of the road, when 
 the horse, feeling himself unrestrained by the bridle, with 
 a sudden movement darted down by the side of a little 
 stream in the opposite direction, which found its way some 
 distance among the chasms, and had nearly precipitated 
 his rider ere he could gather up the reins and bring him 
 again under control. 
 
 " Ila, haugh ! " mutterd the butcher, with clinched teeth, 
 and reining in the wayward animal with his left hand, 
 while he struck him with the heavy-leaded whip he held 
 in his right, " devil skin ye for an uncannie brute ! what 
 
42 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR, 
 
 gars ye ga that gate. Ha, ha ! " he ejaculated again, re 
 peating the blows on the head and sides of the unfortunate 
 animal, " hah, but ye ha a lang memory ; if ye ance gaed 
 there, maun ye aye go ; by a that s guid ye d pu a halter 
 roun my neck, if ye warna weel guided ;" and having thus 
 vented his displeasure, he regained the road, and proceeded 
 at a somewhat quicker pace on his journey. The reader 
 is already aware of the meeting between him and Frank 
 Devlin, "before they reached Nancy Kelly s of the " Gap." 
 
 When Shandy, after many hums and hahs, had finished 
 reading the letter, Nancy exclaimed, 
 
 "That s Jemmy Gallinagh s liquor he informed on, as 
 sure as rny name s Kelly. He come down here last night 
 from Lough Devnish, an tould me all about it ; he was to 
 be in Jim McCormack s i Stranolan, at ten o clock the 
 morrow night, with two ten-gallon kegs. Och," she added, 
 clapping her hands together, " och, weans dear ; but this is 
 the quare world, anyway, we re livin in. Bad luck to his 
 black heart; sure I knew the dirty drap was in him; and 
 look, Shandy, as sure as there s salt in the sea, he knows 
 somethin about the robbery at the ould barrack ; when 
 Frank was tellin him about it a while ago, I knew the 
 thievery in his face." 
 
 " Well, take time, take time, neighbor, the longest lane 
 has a turn in t we ll find him out ; " and Shandy seemed, 
 even when he spoke, to be occupied with some interesting 
 consideration. 
 
 " But what 11 we do," inquired Nancy, with much eager 
 ness ; " will I send Dick up to Lough Devnish, an Jemmy 
 11 be here in agiify?" 
 
 " Patience, woman, patience," calmly observed Shandy, 
 "is often better than haste. Now hearken, and tell me 
 who bought the last load * from Jemmy Gallinagh?" 
 
 " The agent s baillie, Misther Coulson ; but he said it 
 
 * Two casks of liquor. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 43 
 
 wusn t for the recther, but himself. Still, am thinkin his 
 reverence got a taste av it, or the baillie wudn t be so keen 
 at denyin , when nobody was doubtin him." 
 
 " Stnp now, can t ye, woman, and listen to me ; where 
 was it left ? " 
 
 " At the porther s lodge, av coorse they were all in 
 bed at the time in the big house." 
 
 "Very well," said Shandy, perfectly satisfied, "that ill 
 do ;" and he put the letter into his capacious coat pocket. 
 
 " What ir ye doin ," demanded the old woman, as she 
 saw the letter disappear, and her companion rising to 
 leave. " Sure, he ll be here lookin afther it." 
 
 " He won t, I tell ye; I ll manage that part where s 
 Dick?" 
 
 " He s outside there d ye want him ? " 
 
 " Yis, I want him to go with me to the fair not a w r ord 
 now," as the widow was about to remonstrate, " he must 
 go I ll take care av him ; and now, afore I lave ye, re- 
 mimber, Nancy, this is a public day, an mony a cronie ill 
 be makin shanahis * with ye ; so don t be talkin only as 
 little as ye can, for too much av it s good for neather sowl 
 or body. And mind me, auld friend, if ye find yerself 
 hard run if ye think ye can t keep this secret I rnane 
 if it lies too heavy on yer heart, jist go down there an tell 
 it to the bedpost, or any thing i that kind ill do in a pinch ; 
 for I know it s out it ll come, some way or other. So good- 
 mornin to ye." 
 
 Our hero and his companion Dick arrived at the village 
 of Donegal before half the people had assembled, and long 
 before the butchers gathered in to the cattle-market. Dur 
 ing the walk Shandy had completely won the affection 
 and attachment of his fellow-traveller. Dick was in rap 
 tures with him, and swore " he d do any thing in the wide 
 world, barrm murdher, to plaze him." Shandy, having 
 
 * Old stories about relationships. 
 
44 SHANDY M GUIRE, OB 
 
 procured writing materials at a friend s house, took from 
 his pocket the lost letter, and surveyed it for some time 
 with caution and care. He then laid it before him, and 
 commenced another, referring to the information, from 
 time to time, as he proceeded. When he had finished his 
 task, he folded the new letter, placed it under the same 
 envelope and thread which secured the old, and handed it 
 to Dick, accompanying the act with the necessary instruc 
 tions. 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 45 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IN WHICH IT IS MADE TO APPEAR THAT SAINTS AND SIN 
 NERS MAY BE UNITED TOGETHER IN A COMMON BROTH 
 ERHOOD BY THE AID OF RELIGION. 
 
 THE reverend gentleman to whom allusion is made in 
 the preceding chapter, was the celebrated Baxter Cant- 
 well, A. M., ex S. F. C. D., and rector of the parish of 
 Donegal. His father, a native of Shropshire, had emi 
 grated to Ireland in the year 1793, and shortly after, 
 through the interest of the Beresford family, obtained the 
 office of vicar-choral in the cathedral of Cashel. His son 
 Baxter, in the second year following, entered Trinity Col 
 lege as sizar, and worked his way, by remarkable industry, 
 aided by a considerable share of talent, to the sub-librari- 
 anship of the college, with the degree of A. M., a salary 
 of fifty pounds a year, and a suit of apartments. After a 
 few years spent in this situation, made very lucrative by a 
 number of casualties and perquisites then connected with 
 the office, he succeeded in obtaining his ordination and 
 appointment to the high school of Kilkenny, vacant by the 
 demise of the amiable and accomplished Dr. Chatworth 
 Johnston. It was here Mr. Cantwell earned for himself, 
 by his literary labors chiefly remarkable for their in 
 tolerant, persecuting spirit the enviable sobriquet of 
 "Baxter Trueblue." Finding, however, the field of his 
 labors too circumscribed in Kilkenny, he solicited a living 
 in the North, where he hoped to see his extraordinary zeal 
 in the cause of Protestantism more effective and better 
 
46 SHAXDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 appreciated, and was, in due time, appointed to the vicar 
 age of Donegal, where he now resided. His glebe was 
 called the " Moor," situate on a little eminence, almost sur 
 rounded by water, and distant but a few hundred yards 
 from the village. 
 
 It was the eve of the October fair. The family at the 
 Moor was comfortably seated round the tire in the draw 
 ing-room. The rector himself, reclining in his easy-chair, 
 his feet resting on a cushion before the fender, was occu 
 pied in the agreeable task of picking his teeth after a 
 sumptuous dinner. He was very happy at that moment. 
 Happy to think he had a thousand a year from his parish, 
 to furnish the luxuries of his table ; and still more happy, 
 when he reflected that his only son Archibald, then at his 
 elbow, was already provided for, in the influential and im 
 portant agency of Colonel Templeton, the gentleman al 
 ready spoken of in the second chapter, and the second 
 wealthiest commoner in the British parliament. These, 
 certainly, were thoughts to make any man s heart glad. 
 
 Opposite his reverence sat his wife, an English lady, and 
 at her side his maiden sister, Miss Cantwell, both, as it 
 may readily be supposed, in the "sear and yellow;" and, 
 if one could judge from looks, might have been launched 
 on the current of life together. Be that as it may, the 
 personnage, not only of the two ladies, but of each and 
 every member of that interesting and pious family, was 
 wonderfully alike indeed, so very much so, that it is quite 
 sufficient to say, one was tall, dark, thin (very thin), and 
 ascetic, and all the rest were like that one ; or rather (de 
 prived as we are of the pencil of George Cruikshank), let 
 us substitute an illustration from Death and Dr. Horn 
 book : 
 
 " Faint a wame (they) had ava , 
 
 An then (their) shanks 
 They war as thin an sharp an sma , 
 As cheeks o branks." 
 
THICKS UPON TKAVELLERS. 47 
 
 " I trust," said the head of the family, at length wiping 
 his toothpick, his countenance assuming a grave cast as he 
 spoke, u I trust we shall have no disturbance at the fair to 
 morrow." 
 
 " I trust not," quietly replied his wife. 
 
 "It s nearly time now, my dear, we had a little peace, 
 after a whole year s warring with these unfortunate 
 people." 
 
 " I fear," said the lady, knitting her stocking, and speak 
 ing in a melancholy tone, " I fear there will be little peace, 
 while these Ribbonmen are permitted to remain in the 
 country. The very thought of them is terrifying." 
 
 " Permitted, my dear," repeated her husband, " you sure 
 ly cannot justly call it permission, when we have already 
 done all that our relations with the church and the gov 
 ernment require of us to exterminate them. If they have 
 escaped us, we are not to blame." 
 
 " Not you, father, to be sure, nor the magistracy in gen 
 eral," interposed Archibald the agent, " but the enactment 
 itself is to blame. It is not sufficiently comprehensive ; 
 were it to regard the abettors of Ribbonism as it does the 
 members of the society, we soon would have a peaceable 
 neighborhood. The priest,! am informed, said in town no 
 later than yesterday, that he feared the provocation his 
 hearers were daily receiving, would soon make matters 
 still worse. That s loyalty and allegiance for you." 
 
 "Have you seen this priest lately?" inquired Mrs. Cant- 
 well, addressing her husband with evident sarcasm in the 
 tone. 
 
 " Not very lately, my dear, I believe." 
 
 "I ve been told, sir, he insulted you a few days ago 
 in fact, laughed at you laughed at you contemptuously 
 on the public street, Mr. Cant well. Pray is it so ? " 
 
 " Insulted me, my dear," said her spouse, endeavoring 
 to smile, "oh, no; that he certainly would not dare to do 
 he knows if I cannot punish him with the pistol or the 
 
48 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 sword, I have still the statutes of Queen Anne at my 
 service." 
 
 " But you want the spirit to enforce them," bitterly re 
 joined the lady. 
 
 " Let me explain, my dear." 
 
 " Oh, shame, shame, Mr. Cantwell ! I hate explanations. 
 I never thought," she continued, her anger rising as she 
 spoke, and leaving her chair for a seat on the sofa oppo 
 site, where she threw herself, averting her face in evident 
 scorn, "I once little thought my lot would be cast among 
 a merciless people, and with a husband incapable of pro 
 tecting his own honor." 
 
 " Hear me for a moment, Isabella," exclaimed the minis 
 ter; " why, this is intolerable ; you have been grievously 
 misinformed. The truth of the matter is simply this. 
 Your own son, whom you dote upon so much, Archibald 
 there, has been somehow accused of an affair with I 
 don t remember her name that young woman at whose 
 interment I would not suffer the priest to read the funeral 
 service in canonicals. Well, this same priest presumed to 
 speak to me a few days ago, and " 
 
 " And insult you, too, sir," added the lady, turning to 
 her husband with a sneer that plainly told how keenly she 
 felt the fancied indignity offered him by a priest. 
 
 " I beg, my dear, you will have one moment s patience, 
 and let me " 
 
 " What right, sir," she demanded, rising again, and pass 
 ing up and down the apartment, with little attention to 
 her husband s remonstrance, " what right has the priest to 
 address you on such a subject? If Archibald be guilty of 
 this charge, why, he is greatly to blame. But is the crime 
 irreparable ? One would suppose, sir, in this savage land, 
 the loss of a peasant girl s reputation was some great 
 national evil so much is it talked of! that this wretched 
 people valued it higher than ever did England that of 
 her greatest and proudest peeresses : her Bl tons, her 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 49 
 
 C ng ms, and her Port ths. I can have no patience 
 with this intolerable pride ! " 
 
 " Think, now, ray dear," when at length he could make 
 himself heard, and speaking in a calm but reproving voice, 
 " think how unseemly this passion is how very unseemly 
 how unlike what you ought to be. If a stranger saw 
 you now in this burst of passionate feeling or anger, I 
 should rather call it " 
 
 " And if he did, sir," she replied, elevating her voice still 
 higher, "you are there to explain the cause to tell him, 
 sir, that the indignation of the wife is caused by the pusil 
 lanimity of the husband. Yes, sir, I should not feel at all 
 surprised if I saw this same priest walk in here, sir, and 
 horsewhip you at your own fireside." 
 
 " Very well, my dear," sighed his reverence, with a feel 
 ing of resignation to the ills of married life, " very well, I 
 can t prevent you." 
 
 " Ha ! haT" she cried, after a moment s breath, and look 
 ing scornfully on her patient and loving spouse, " ha ! ha ! 
 and where are all the converts you made ? Yes, you got 
 their names to send to the Kildare Street Society ; but 
 where are the converts themselves ? Ha! ha!" she ejacu 
 lated again ; " you have had ten new pews built in church 
 for their accommodation who occupies them ? Yes, sir, 
 the priest may laugh at you, and insult you too." 
 
 During this last philippic the rector had taken up "The 
 Saints Everlasting Rest," by his namesake, and seemed to 
 be attentively occupied in turning over the pages, as if 
 looking for something in which he took interest. Miss 
 Rebecca was reading the last annual, and Archibald sat 
 twirling his thumbs, his feet stretched out before him, and 
 glancing under his dark eyebrows from one to the other 
 of the disputants. At length he laid his hand on his 
 mother s arm as she passed him, and said, 
 
 "Mother, you are, indeed, excessively severe there is 
 no need of these hot words. Your zeal for religion makes 
 4 
 
50 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 you forget charity, its leading virtue. If I am to blame in 
 this trifling affair, I am willing to bear the consequences. 
 I believe I am sufficiently responsible for my own acts." 
 
 "It s no credit, sir, let me tell you," said his father 
 sharply, turning his chair and pushing the footstool violent 
 ly from under his feet ; " no, sir, it s no credit to any man 
 to be responsible for disreputable acts. Pagh ! sir, your 
 father s name should be a check on your vicious inclina 
 tions." 
 
 " Well, but consider, sir, mine is not an isolated case 
 liberties are certainly permitted, or rather I should have 
 said excusable, in men of my rank and station." 
 
 " Oh, do cease this folly, Archy, dear," interposed Re 
 becca, coaxingly ; " do let us talk of something more in 
 teresting. I have heard the committee is to meet at the 
 lodge * to-morrow night. Is it not so ? " 
 
 " I wish they had never met," was the reply. 
 
 " Never met and why, my dear Archy ? " 
 
 " Because, then we had not been fools for the world to 
 laugh at." 
 
 " Oh, you are surely not serious," said his aunt, playfully." 
 
 " Serious, why the very children in the streets are 
 they not mocking us as we pass, and their mothers cour- 
 tesying to our Orange ribbons? Were not the colors pre 
 sented to the corps by Lady Farnham pelted with mud 
 while flying from the window of the lodge ? But by 
 H ," he exclaimed, starting from his chair at the thought 
 of such degradation, " it shall not be long so. I ll scourge 
 the vile rabble into abject submission. I have the power, 
 and will use it with a vengeance. If my conduct is to be 
 the subject of conversation for the priest, it shall be also 
 for his people, and matter enough they shall have to em 
 ploy their tongues for a twelvemonth to come." 
 
 " Be cautious, Archibald," said the rector, " zeal must be 
 tempered with prudence ; you have already made enemies 
 for yourself." 
 
 * Orange lodge. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 51 
 
 " And who, among these enemies," haughtily demanded 
 the agent of his father, " which of them dare thwart me in 
 my projects ? " 
 
 " Your own rashness may defeat them." 
 
 " Pagh ! rashness folly, my dear sir. Have you not 
 seen Goulburn s opinion on these matters ? But who is 
 to call me to account for precipitancy, in such a cause ? " 
 
 " One who will and can. Colonel Templeton himself 
 a man not to be trilled with. He is, no doubt, an enemy 
 an avowed enemy of popery but a man scrupulously 
 just in the treatment of his tenants. He will tolerate no 
 interference with the legal rights and claims of land- 
 tenure." 
 
 "Admitted, sir," replied the agent, smiling at his father s 
 dread of the colonel s displeasure, " admitted rights and 
 claims must and ought to be respected. But has he not 
 authorized, nay, encouraged me to exterminate for legal 
 cause every Catholic tenant on his estate, if I can find a 
 Protestant substitute ? Be satisfied, sir, my power is well 
 defined my instructions clear and explicit, and I shall 
 take care to be guided by them to the very letter." 
 
 " It is your duty, Archibald," broke in the lady of the 
 mansion, who had now been silent for a few minutes, but 
 by no means disposed to abate her petulance, " and yours 
 too, sir," she said, addressing her husband, " as a magistrate 
 and minister, to destroy the man of sin." 
 
 " Oh, my dear wife," replied the rector, looking up pious 
 ly to the ceiling, " no man on this earth would risk his life 
 more cheerfully than I would, to annhiliate popery. But 
 it s all in vain, for I fear the plague-spot is spreading." 
 
 "And what wonder, sir," she promptly observed, "when 
 you are afraid to apply the proper remedy for the evil ! " 
 
 "The remedy, my dear, was often tried, and one as 
 powerful too, as the united skill of the greatest and ablest 
 men of the age could make it. Kings, and princes, and 
 subjects have applied it ; but, alas ! it failed why, I know 
 not." 
 
52 SHANDY M GUIKE, OK 
 
 " Perhaps, because popery is imperishable," said the lady, 
 tauntingly. 
 
 "I must confess, Isabella, notwithstanding our convic 
 tion to the contrary, that there is a something a vitality 
 you may call it in popery, which does seem almost im 
 perishable; while we attempt to cut down the tree, we 
 only shake the branches and scatter the seed, instead of 
 destroying, we only multiply its growth." 
 
 " I did not expect such language from you," observed his 
 wife, with the same unchangeable sneer upon her lip, 
 " why, I think you had better turn papist yourself. You 
 could speak so eloquently of the perpetuity of that faith. 
 Why do you not enlighten us on that point from the pulpit 
 
 your congregation would feel so delighted so very 
 happy to hear you descant " 
 
 " But is it not true ?" interrupted her husband ; " alas ! 
 it cannot be denied. We have transported and put to 
 death their priests in hundreds, and yet they are not the 
 fewer." 
 
 " Well, go on, sir," muttered the lady, " I ll not stop you 
 
 go on." 
 
 " We have made it felony to harbor them, and yet their 
 unfortunate followers have suffered the rack and gibbet, 
 sooner than abandon them to their fate." 
 
 " Go on, sir ; you speak admirably." 
 
 " We have set the same price on the priest s head we did 
 on the wolf s ; the wolves were all slain, but the priests 
 are more numerous than ever." 
 
 " Beautiful ! proceed, sir ; I declare you re becoming 
 eloquent at last." 
 
 " We have had the pilgrims of t Lough Derg (or * Pat 
 rick s Purgatory, as the statutes there before you call it) 
 tied to carts, and scourged through the streets by the com 
 mon executioner, and all was of no avail ; what then are 
 we to do ? " 
 
 Here the good lady could no longer control her pas- 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 53 
 
 sion, convinced as she was, that her husband, for the last 
 five minutes, had been laboring might and main to annoy 
 and perplex her, for the contempt she had offered him. 
 She started up, flung her stocking on the floor, raised her 
 arm, as if about to make some solemn protestation, when 
 the door opened, and a servant announced "Mr. Ebenezer 
 Goodsoul." The lady s arm fell to her side, the rector s 
 feet again sought the cushion, Miss Rebecca took up the 
 annual, and Archibald stretched out his feet before him. 
 In the faces of all the occupants of that apartment, not one 
 angry look remained ; so that when the visitor entered, he 
 might well exclaim, " O, what happy faces what a cheer 
 ful, happy home ! " 
 
 The gentleman who now made his appearance was not 
 at all so important a personage as the reader might have sup 
 posed from the wonderful change that followed his an 
 nouncement. He was only the Bible reader of the district. 
 This term may sound harsh to the ears of some of our kind 
 readers, and hence a short explanation becomes necessary 
 to avoid misconception and prejudice. 
 
 When we use the term Bible reader, it is because it was 
 the proper designation of his peculiar calling adopted 
 by the society that employed him, and acknowledged by 
 himself as a reverend and holy title. It designated the 
 particular office and rank he held in the dissemination of 
 evangelical truth. The Bible reader was generally a mem 
 ber of some one or other of the dissenting churches 
 sometimes, but very seldom indeed, of the Anglican. In 
 rank he bore the same relation to the Methodist minister 
 that the lector in the Catholic church does to the priest. 
 In their vocation the difference consisted in the Methodist 
 minister being called immediately by the Lord, and the 
 Bible reader by the Kildare Street Society, or any other 
 association established for similar purposes. Bible readers 
 were very numerous in 182-. Being for the most part il 
 literate men, they confined their labors almost exclusively 
 
54 SHANDY M GTJIKE, OK 
 
 to remote places, seldom appearing in towns, except on 
 business connected with their office. The Kildare Street 
 Society gave them twenty pounds a year as a salary, and 
 supplied them with Bibles and religious tracts for distribu 
 tion in immense quantities. The clergymen also in the 
 various localities recommended them strongly to the char 
 itable consideration of their hearers, so that, everything 
 considered, they might be called a very well-pro vided-for 
 class of teachers of the word. But we must not omit to 
 mention, that besides their stated salary, they had what 
 was usually called head-money, or two shillings and six 
 pence for every convert to the gospel that is, every one 
 who could answer some of the leading questions in their 
 approved catechism, and had attended Sunday school twice 
 at least within three months. They had also the privilege 
 of making converts ad libitum ; for instance, they could 
 recommend destitute Catholic children, or adults, as the 
 case might be, to the " Clothes Committee of the Parish," 
 and if they succeeded in obtaining the garments in lieu of 
 a promise to attend the Protestant church, their names 
 were despatched to Dublin as converts to the light of the 
 gospel, and a reward transmitted thence to the Bible read 
 er, for his pious advocacy of the cause. As to his personal 
 appearance, the Bible reader differed as much from the 
 members of the community in general, as the Brahmin 
 does from the laborer in Hindostan. He invariably 
 dressed in black, as became his calling not a white speck 
 was to be seen except the cravat, and that was perfectly 
 unique. It was composed of leather, like that of the 
 English soldier, and covered with white muslin, but worn 
 so high, stiff, and immovable, that one would imagine it 
 intended to keep the eyes of the wearer forever removed 
 from a sight of the sinful earth he inhabited. "When walk 
 ing, with his head thrown back, he gave a lively illustra 
 tion of the well-known Greek word anthropos. His hair 
 was forever cut as close to the skin as it was possible for 
 
TEICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 55 
 
 scissors to accomplish it. His hat was broad-brimmed, 
 made of common felt, and manufactured expresely for the 
 class, by a member of the Society of Friends in Wexford. 
 The bearing, gait, and air of the Bible reader were pecu 
 liar, solemn, and impressive. From the moment he was 
 called to go forth and preach, he was never known to smile 
 more not a beam of gladness ever lighted up his coun 
 tenance again ; and when he travelled, night or day, storm 
 or sunshine, the measured pace was never altered ; and the 
 lugubrious face never spoke but of mourning and sorrows 
 to the light-hearted peasantry as they passed him on the 
 roads. 
 
 To such a class of men, therefore, did the gentleman be 
 long, whose name has been already announced by the 
 servant, Mr. Ebenezer Goodsoul. If the reader be dis 
 posed to find fault with the want of individuality about 
 our reverend visitor if he thinks we have not been suf 
 ficiently explicit as to the stature, features, &c., he will 
 please to observe, once for all, that no one ever yet could 
 distinguish one Bible reader from another. Similar habits, 
 thoughts, manners, dress, and deportment had so far 
 assimilated and amalgamated the different individuals of 
 that section of the ministry since their first institution, that 
 all identity had vanished. He (the reader) has therefore 
 no choice left but to select an "ideal," and he may be 
 assured, if he be not very hard to please, he will certainly 
 find one at least to suit his fancy, between Thersites and 
 Apollo, or between Roebuck and Lord Brougham. 
 
 " Delighted to see you, Mr. Goodsoul," said the rector 
 " we have just been talking of the blessings of religion, a 
 subject so dear to your heart. No doubt you are come to 
 speak of to-morrow s meeting of the brethren in com 
 mittee. Sit down, dear Mr. Goodsoul, and make one of 
 the family circle. Oh, I wish how I do wish, that all 
 my people felt as deeply interested in the cause of our 
 holy religion as you, my friend ! " 
 
66 SHANDY M GIirRE, OR 
 
 " I am but a poor, sinful creature, your reverence, and 
 can do little good," was the reply. 
 
 " But your heart is in the great cause." 
 
 " Heart and soul have I dedicated myself to the holy 
 work," said the Bible reader. 
 
 " You have reason to rejoice and be glad, my friend." 
 
 " I am grateful, I trust, and thankful to our great Ruler 
 and Master, that he has vouchsafed to look upon me as 
 the humblest of his servants." 
 
 " You have apprized the different members of the com 
 mittee?" inquired the rector. 
 
 " Each and every one." 
 
 " Oh, very well," said the rector ; " so far all is right. 
 Laboring on your mission, as usual ? " 
 
 " To the extent of my poor abilities," replied the Bible 
 reader. 
 
 "Successfully,! hope?" 
 
 " As much so, your reverence, as it might be given to 
 expect, amidst so ungodfearing a people ; verily, the stiff 
 necks of the Jews are not so hard to bend as are those of 
 the deluded Catholics." 
 
 " We have yet strong hopes in the holy seed of the 
 word," observed the rector. 
 
 " The harvest is ripening," said the Bible reader. 
 
 " It will be fruitful tenfold in its season," said the rector. 
 
 " Yea, a hundredfold," said the Bible reader. 
 
 " Your reward shall be great and everlasting," said the 
 rector. 
 
 "And thine," said the Bible reader, "oh, thine, reverend 
 sir, shall be without measure, for thine holy ministration 
 of the gospel has been wonderfully powerful amongst the 
 people ; the seed which you have scattered hath already 
 produced much fruit (though it hath not yet ripened) ; 
 yea, even in the shadow of death for when you came to 
 minister to us, darkness had covered the land, and gross 
 darkness the people; but the light of the gospel hath 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 57 
 
 beamed out from thee, and shone afar off like unto the 
 pillar in the desert." 
 
 " No, no, my dear Goodsoul, say not so," observed the 
 minister, with a smile ; " no, we must not ascribe to our gifts 
 of nature the wonderful effects of the word amongst the 
 people. But have your labors been blessed with your 
 usual success ? " 
 
 " Far beyond my expectations," said the Bible reader 
 " within the last two weeks, sixteen souls have been res 
 cued from the Ammonites and their abominations." 
 
 " You hear that, my love," said the minister, addressing 
 his lady, " What a consolation sixteen souls within the 
 fortnight ! " 
 
 " And the priest," continued the rector, " have you met 
 with opposition from him, as usual ? " 
 
 " It hath not been so great as formerly," replied the 
 Bible reader, " yet he still revileth the servants of the Lord, 
 in the high place he hath built to Moloch, the abomination 
 of the children of Ammon." 
 
 " Have you spoken to himself of the evil of his ways?" 
 inquired the rector. 
 
 " I have spoken in charity, and he would not hearken to 
 me ; he called me a hypocrite, because I have been once 
 wicked, and turned my back upon my sins. But verily, 
 verily, I have never been a Moabite, nor bent my knee be 
 fore Baal. And I said unto him when he put me from his 
 house, Behold, thou hast labored like Nahash at Jabesh- 
 gilead to put out the eyes of thy Amalekite people, that 
 they might not see thy abominations. And when he 
 laughed at my rebuke, I waxed wrothful in spirit (for I am 
 yet weak), and said unto him, that another like our holy and 
 God-fearing Elizabeth would yet come, and would put to 
 death, even as Josiah did, the idolatrous priests that burned 
 incense unto Baal ; and, as it hath been commanded, I 
 shook the dust from my feet on the threshold of the un 
 believer." 
 
58 SHANDY M GUIRE, Oil 
 
 " You have clone well, ray dear Mr. Good soul," said the 
 lady of the house, speaking with peculiar emphasis, and 
 looking sidewise at her husband; "there should be no 
 peace with the unbeliever." 
 
 "And when may we expect to see these converts at 
 church ?" inquired Rebecca, "for that you know, my dear 
 Mr. Goodsoul, is the chief consideration." 
 
 "Their outward garments, lady," replied the Bible 
 reader, "are unseemly for such a presence they are but 
 indifferently clothed, and full of delicacy the pride of 
 life. I know, lady, the white robes of innocence are more 
 precious in His sight, yet we cannot fail to remember that 
 the Israelites were commanded to wash their very garments 
 before they approached even the foot of the mountain." 
 
 " Oh, assuredly," interposed Mrs. Cantwell, " attention to 
 dress is by no means incompatible with attention to the 
 inner man ; but are you satisfied, Mr. Goodsoul, they fail 
 not as hitherto in their attendance at church ? " 
 
 " Perfectly, madam, they will attend our prayer meet 
 ing, at which the Rev. Jejjediah Sweetsoul holds forth on 
 his return from Sligo." 
 
 " But why not come to my church," inquired the rector, 
 " where their conversion will be more publicly known, and 
 their little wants meet with a more prompt and liberal 
 attention ? " 
 
 " For the very reason you have mentioned, reverend sir," 
 replied the Bible reader. " They are not yet sufficiently 
 strengthened by the spirit, to acknowledge their errors in 
 so public a manner ; the false delicacy of the world, poor 
 carnal creatures as they are, holds them back a little, yet 
 a while they fear their enemies might say, if they went 
 first among your wealthy people, that they had a yearning 
 after carnal comforts, instead of the bread of life." 
 
 " Well, my dear Baxter," said his wife, compassionately, 
 " it s right to be sure they have their little feelings. Let 
 them go to the Methodist church." 
 
THICKS UPON TEAVELLEES. 59 
 
 " Well, dear, I am satisfied if you are," said her husband. 
 
 " Oh, yes, dear Baxter, why not ? " said bis wife. 
 
 " Very well, then," said the husband. 
 
 " Oh, certainly," said the wife, " what matters it, dear, 
 what church they attend, if they only abandon the super 
 stitions of popery." 
 
 " But they will not abandon them," said Archibald, 
 speaking for the first time. 
 
 " Why do you think so ? " asked his father. 
 
 " Oh, they are thoroughly convinced of their error," said 
 the Bible reader. 
 
 " So were all the converts, if we could believe them," 
 retorted the agent. 
 
 " But these are prepared to make a public profession, I 
 trust," enjoined the rector. 
 
 " Without doubt," answered the Bible reader. 
 
 " Yes," said the agent, " like all the former ones." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "Until they are clothed, sheer absolute necessity com 
 pels them. They can t help it. They can t be sincere in 
 their promises of conversion. They can t understand, or 
 rather they can t feel what Protestantism is. They can t 
 take the bare Bible for their religion. They can t enter 
 our churches and see them desolate, stripped of everything 
 that used to warm up their hearts in their own, without 
 sorrow and regret. They never can be converted by 
 ordinary means. Do you think a Catholic, who from his 
 infancy saw himself surrounded by the sacraments of his 
 church, and from which he received, or at least thought 
 he received so much consolation amid all his trials and 
 disappointments of life, will be content with a bare book 
 which he cannot understand ? Do you think he can 
 relinquish all the aids to salvation, so numerous in his 
 church that he can forget his confession, where the priest 
 was accustomed to direct and admonish him, even if, as 
 we think, he could do nothing more forget his comrnu- 
 
60 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 nion, which he believed to be the body of Christ, his last 
 sacrament, which he had depended so much on at the hour 
 of death and all this for what he was accustomed to look 
 upon as the mere skeleton of a religion, without form, sub 
 stance, or tangibility?" 
 
 " Nonsense, Archibald," exclaimed his mother, interrupt 
 ing him, " you talk very strangely." 
 
 "I talk the truth, mother, and you know it," replied 
 Archibald. 
 
 " I know it," said the lady, busying herself with her 
 work, and somewhat discomposed, "I know it, do I 
 perhaps so." 
 
 " Yes, indeed, mother, you know it, and we all know it 
 well, if we had candor enough to acknowledge it. I hate 
 popery, myself, as I do the d 1, and would exterminate 
 papists at the hazard of my life. But why should we belie 
 their religion, in order to deceive ourselves ? They never 
 will be converted. Within the last five years you have 
 lost many of your hearers, and whom have you gained ? 
 Three permanent converts; and who are they? Men 
 whom the priest thrust out of his church, for theft and 
 other crimes. Could they be called Catholics ? Certainly 
 not ; the priest would not recognize them as such." 
 
 "But they have reformed, by an attentive and pious 
 study of the Bible, a change which the influence of Catholic 
 doctrine never could have effected. And they have re 
 mained steady members of the church," added the rector. 
 
 "Steady, no doubt, father," replied Archibald; "and 
 why not ? what could they do what other resource 
 could they fly to? Their first duty on their return to the 
 Romish communion would have been restitution the very 
 thing which first drove them out of it. Make restitution, 
 and let their wives and children starve ! The thing is pre 
 posterous. They are constrained to remain steady where 
 they are, and where no minister s authority can reach their 
 consciences or their purse." 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 61 
 
 "The word of God will reach them," said the rector, 
 somewhat pettishly. 
 
 " The word of God to them is but a book it is a thing 
 without eyes, ears, tongue, or understanding," said Archi 
 bald. " It is but a dead monitor, the priest is a living one. 
 The Bible may convince the intellect ; but the heart, the 
 seat of the sensibilities, requires a far different action to 
 impel it. Suppose you changed your relative positions 
 give the Catholic church the advantages you possess 
 wealth, titles, authority, patronage; and the Protestant, 
 poverty and persecution how many hearers would you 
 have in twelve months? None. Do you think it would 
 be sufficient to hand them the Bible, and say, Here, read 
 that, and learn to suffer for conscience sake ? " 
 
 " You have given vour opinions unsolicited, Archibald," 
 said his father, " and with a very unnecessary earnestness. 
 May I ask what is your object in all this ? " 
 
 " Simply to prove to you, if you are not already con 
 vinced of it, that all your endeavors for the conversion of 
 Catholics is vain, and will be vain to the end. Well then, 
 when you cannot lead them drive them. When you 
 cannot reform them exterminate them, and by every 
 means in your power. Leave no means untried ; degrade 
 them, impoverish them, persecute them. Misery and beg 
 gary and destitution may convert them, but the Bible 
 never" 
 
 During the latter part of the foregoing dialogue between 
 father and son, the two ladies and Mr. Ebenezer Goodsoul 
 had retired to a distant corner of the drawing-room, to 
 have a little quiet conversation on the important subject 
 of clothing the converts. 
 
 "Now, my dear Mr. Goodsoul, tell me candidly," said 
 Mrs. Cantwell, " do you think these poor creatures are sin 
 cere ? " and she laid her hand familiarly on his shoulder. 
 
 " Yea, verily, madam, their conversion is truly sincere." 
 
 " And will they certainly attend your church ? Have 
 you any doubt of it?" 
 
62 SHANDY M GUIRE, OB 
 
 " None whatever, madam." 
 
 " Oh, it will be so delightful," exclaimed Miss Rebecca, 
 rubbing her hands. 
 
 " It will be a great victory, my dear Rebecca, after all 
 the taunts we have borne," said Mrs. Cantwell, smiling 
 benignantly. 
 
 " Oh, yes indeed," added Miss Rebecca, " it will be abso 
 lutely charming. We must take them under our own im 
 mediate protection, poor dear creatures they shall feel 
 so awkward, you know so confused, when they find 
 themselves all at once among respectable people." 
 
 "Well, but, dear Mr. Goodsoul, do not recommend 
 them if you be not absolutely satisfied of their attend 
 ance. You know how we have suffered already. It is 
 so very humiliating to behold these nasty creatures strut 
 ting by us to mass in the very garments we gave them 
 and some of which we made even with our own hands. 
 It is really insupportable." 
 
 "Fear not, my dear lady," said the Bible reader, "they 
 are now, I trust, children of grace ; their eyes are opened 
 and they see the light." 
 
 " And when do they come for the garments ? " said Mrs. 
 Cantwell ; " you know they are always ready." 
 
 " When you please, madam." 
 
 " Very well, then when the colonel comes. We ex 
 pect him daily ; he is now visiting at Colonel Percival s, 
 of Rockvale. He will be so gratified." 
 
 The little party then separated. Mr. Ebenezer Good- 
 soul approached the door of the apartment, and turning 
 round, bowed to every member of the family, according to 
 seniority. His body rose to a perpendicular and bent to a 
 right angle at each obeisance, and without a syllable of 
 accompaniment to lessen the solemnity of the action, he 
 quitted the room, his head thrown back as usual, and his 
 step as measured and steady as an undertaker s at a 
 funeral. 
 
TEICKS UPON TEAVELLEES. 63 
 
 When he reached the porter s lodge, he stopped and 
 mused for a moment, as if he had forgotten something. 
 He did not return, however, but stood there looking 
 towards the glebe-house. In a minute or two after, Arch 
 ibald, the agent, appeared with a hurried step, and said, 
 as he approached, 
 
 "Goodsoul?" 
 
 " The same." 
 
 " Ha ! well, what news ? " 
 
 " I have executed thy commands faithfully," said the 
 Bible reader. 
 
 " Did you find her at home ? " inquired the agent. 
 
 " No, sir, she was returning from the chapel, or the house 
 of abominations, where she had gone, with other maidens, 
 to worship their goddess Astaroth." 
 
 " Humph ! " said Cantwell, with evident dissatisfaction. 
 " I wish you had met her at a more favorable time. Did 
 she seem displeased at the overture ? " 
 
 " Very scornful," replied Goodsoul ; and then he added, 
 " Verily, she seemeth a goodly and well-favored maiden, 
 and " 
 
 " Well, well, sir," interrupted Cantwell, " I don t require 
 your opinion now on that point. But the answer what 
 was her answer ? " 
 
 " None, sir." 
 
 " Ha ! did you tell her how her father was in my power, 
 and would be ejected for arrears of rent if she continued 
 obstinate ? " said the agent. 
 
 " Yea, sir, and she chided me bitterly." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " She spoke of hypocrites in the garb of religion, and 
 affected to think me a vile man that I was leagued with 
 you in iniquity ; but, verily, verily, thy secrets are thine 
 own. I am but a poor, sinful creature, I admit, borne 
 down by the load of my infirmities; yet, nevertheless " 
 
 " Pah, sir ! " cried Cantwell, passionately, " a truce with 
 
64 SHANDY M GUIEE, OR 
 
 this mummery. We know each other, Mr. Goodsoul. I 
 know your value, and you, I believe, have already some 
 reason to know mine. Remember that " 
 
 Here steps were heard coming towards them, which 
 interrupted the conversation. The agent and his trusty 
 and pious confidant separated for the night. 
 
TEICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 65 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AN IRISH FAIR, WITH ITS PECULIARITIES; WHICH, BEING 
 NATIONAL, FOR THE MOST PART, ARE VERY UN-ENGLISH, 
 AND OF COURSE VERY ABSURD. 
 
 WHEN Dick had delivered the letter to Doogan, accord 
 ing to Shandy s instructions, he sauntered through the 
 village with a very self-satisfied air, and if we might 
 judge from the quantity of cakes he carried in his pockets, 
 into which his hand found its way occasionally with the 
 laudable determination of living like any other indepen 
 dent gentleman, while the resources lasted ; or, as Mrs. 
 Trollope would say, like any other Irishman. 
 
 The "fair" was unusually large, the day fine, and 
 business smart and stirring. It was now about six o clock 
 in the afternoon. All the principal parts of the town 
 particularly the Diamond were crowded with people 
 listening to ballad-singers, lottery men, and itinerant auc 
 tioneers. Having sold what they had brought to market, 
 or purchased their little necessaries, as the case might have 
 been, their thoughts were high and happy glad to see 
 their neighbors, and disposed for the time to forget all 
 their wrongs and sufferings, and to be on friendly terms 
 with the whole wide world. Almost every one having a 
 penny to spare was desirous of treating his neighbor .to 
 "something to dhrink ; " or, when his thoughts turned 
 homewards, of buying " the fairins for the childher, the 
 craythurs who d be expekin them." 
 
 "Here; Peggy, acushla, here s a testher," said an ill- 
 5 
 
66 SHANDY M GUIBE, OH 
 
 dressed but good-looking countryman to his wife, " maybe 
 ye want somethin to buy." 
 
 " Feen a hap worth ill buy the day, Barney," she re 
 plied. 
 
 " Well, well, ye ll want somethin , maybe ; here, woman, 
 take it." 
 
 " Barney, dear, you know we can t afford it ; it s fitther 
 we d lay it up for the haliday rent. Cantwell ill drive us 
 to the pound av we hav n t it ready for him." 
 
 " I know that, Peggy ; but sure God s good it s a long 
 while yet to that time, ye know, an the corn s up tuppence 
 a stone here, dear, take the thrifle, we ll niver miss it." 
 
 "A thrifle now an a thrifle again, Barney, id soon run 
 out the purse," observed the wife, smiling in her husband s 
 face ; " an you wantiii a new shuit, so ye do for in 
 truth am a most ashamed to luck at ye, yer so bare i 
 thothes." 
 
 "Hout! niver mind me these ould duds ill dome 
 well enough ; ye r more in need i somethin dacent yerself. 
 Here, take the testher, am sayin ." 
 
 " Well, sure, thanks be to God, Barney, we re not so 
 badly off we re stout an strong yet, both av us, an has 
 our hands to work for a livin ; I ll buy somethin with it 
 for the childher, they ll be at the lane waitin for us." 
 
 " Come, then," said her husband, " here s candies here 
 beyont, it ill plaze the craythurs best av any." 
 
 He led the way accordingly, jostling the crowd as he 
 passed along to where the candy-men were crying their 
 valuables at a corner of the Diamond, and where the pas 
 sage was narrow and densely thronged, some crushing in 
 to purchase, and others listening and laughing at the droll 
 expressions of the venders. In the centre of the crowd 
 were two men, carrying each a wooden waiter or square 
 board, on which the candies were placed, and supported 
 by cords running round their necks, and fastened to the 
 four corners. On this waiter might be seen arranged, ac- 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLEES. 67 
 
 cording to their several genus and species, all kinds of 
 beasts, birds, and fishes, made of sugar or molasses, as it 
 might suit the customer s purse or please his fancy. The 
 two candy merchants, as already said, met directly in the 
 middle of the throng, each passing in an opposite direc 
 tion, and vociferating the qualities and perfections of his 
 stock in trade, in tones capable of waking the very dead. 
 Neither would give way to the other. So that each stood 
 facing his antagonist, looking daggers, and endeavoring to 
 silence him by the strength of his lungs, as he cried, 
 
 " Here s the Rock the Rock (candy), the rale Indhin, 
 And peppermint Rock, goin for 
 Bits i brass for broken glass r r " 
 
 " Lave the road ! " shouted one, at length, impatient of 
 the delay ; " lave the road, an let yer betthers pass. Here s 
 the Rock, the Rock r " 
 
 " When I see them, my augenaugh" cried the other. 
 Here s the Rock r " 
 
 " Stop yer shoutin , or ill run my Jcetogue down yer 
 throat," again cried the first, and then in an under tone to 
 a new purchaser, "twopence, ma am, only twopence, it s 
 dead cheap ; that horse s as big as a common elephant 
 here s the Rock, the Rock r , yis, ma am, only a half 
 penny, one hal penny ; that cat s as large as a dacent sheep. 
 Stop, ye spalpeen," he continued, "stop," said he, at 
 the top of his voice, and shaking his fist at his competitor, 
 " stop this minit, or ill not lave a baste on your boord." 
 Here an incident occurred, however, which precipitated a 
 quarrel that would have evidently taken place, only per 
 haps a few minutes later. A tall, stalwart fellow, flourish 
 ing a blackthorn of no very slender proportions, shouldered 
 the last speaker against his antagonist breaking cows, 
 horses, seals, whales, elephants, and their keepers at one 
 rush. The candy-merchants, seeing their stock in trade 
 literally swept from their hands, and their prospects com- 
 
68 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 pletely ruined, perhaps for a whole month to come, turned 
 to revenge on each other the injury their own obstinacy 
 had occasioned. Being strangers, however, in that part 
 of the country, and generally of a character not likely to 
 create much interest in their favor, they were permitted to 
 adjust their differences as it pleased them best. In the 
 mean time, the man with the blackthorn was not idle : 
 treading, with the most magnanimous disregard for danger, 
 over tigers, lions, and various other savage animals, he 
 shouted, as he hurled the bystanders aside, 
 
 "Make room! make room here for the ballad-singer 
 let me see the policeman that dare touch him stand 
 rouri* him there, and keep yer shillelahs in yer fists. Frank 
 Devlin, can t ye drive that oul fella with the cape on his 
 coat out i that don t ye see he s crushin the ballad- 
 singer ?" 
 
 "Three cheers for the ballad-singer!" cried another; 
 " who dar say bum to the * white ribbons ? " 
 
 " Lift it now, my bonchal yer friends is roun ye," cried 
 a third, slapping the vocalist on the shoulder. " Hurroo ! 
 my boy, ye ve friends at yer back. Rise it, my lad, an 
 don t fear the bloody police." The ballad-singer, seeing 
 himself surrounded by a circle of strong, stout men, ready 
 to protect him, took courage, at length, and began in a 
 stentorian voice, 
 
 " Come all ye Roman Catholics, I pray ye now attind, 
 An listen with attention to those few lines I pinned; 
 It s av the bloody Orangemen, I mane for to relate, 
 That murthered Teady Houlahan, and did him masecrate. 
 
 " It was on the twelfth iv July, as that ye soon will hear, 
 That comin from Jim Donaher s, all in this present year, 
 They put a sword into his heart, an pinned him to the groun 
 The Lord have mercy on his soul, it s to himself be toul " (told). 
 
 The cry of " Police ! police ! " put a stop to the song, as 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 69 
 
 the ballad-singer had begun the third verse with increased 
 animation ; "They re corain , they re comin , an Trueblue 
 at their head." In another instant the police were in their 
 midst, and with bayonets on their carabines, drove the de 
 fenceless people before them, pricking them from side to 
 side as they dashed furiously along. Five or six mounted 
 police, with the officer in front, were particularly active ; 
 careless of all consequences, and reckless of human life, 
 they spurred their maddened horses over men and women, 
 young and old, shouting as the infuriated animals reared 
 and plunged under the spur, " Cut them down, the bloody 
 papists, hew them to the ground, the croppy rebels, we ll 
 teach them treason songs." The officer who had charge 
 of the party, having already cut and maimed all who op 
 posed his progress, came dashing up to where Barney and 
 his wife had taken refuge. As he approached the unoffend 
 ing man, he rose in his saddle, and made a desperate lunge, 
 but Barney evading the blow, the horse bolted forward, 
 throwing down his wife, and crushing her under his feet. 
 Hardly had she fallen, when a voice, clear, distinct, and 
 powerful, was heard high over the din of the multitude, 
 ringing as it passed along, " White ribbons to the rescue !" 
 and the next instant the officer received a blow on the 
 temple, and fell insensible to the ground. Then the riot be 
 came serious. The white ribbons rallied round the corner 
 of the Diamond from every part of the fair, and aided, as 
 they were, by friends and relations who had never joined, 
 and others who had already abandoned the society, made 
 a formidable force. The reins of the cavalry horses were 
 cut, and of course they became ungovernable, throwing off 
 their riders, and trampling on all before them. The in 
 fantry, on the other hand, had their bayonets broken in the 
 melee, and nothing to defend them but the unloaded cara 
 bines. In this perplexity the police cried to the Rev. Bax 
 ter Cantwell, J. P., to read the riot act, and the sergeant 
 taking command in the absence of his superior officer, or- 
 
70 SHANDY M GUIRE, OB 
 
 dered the men to load. Amid the noise and turmoil that 
 prevailed, the magistrate took the riot act from the clerk, 
 and read with considerable perturbation as far as the end 
 of the first paragraph, when a shout was heard behind him, 
 and a company of military came thundering along, with 
 their officer in, front, saying, as he approached the magis 
 trate, in a deep, authoritative voice, 
 
 " Stop, sir I take command here ! " 
 
 " What ! Captain O Brien," demanded the rector, " are 
 you justice of the peace?" 
 
 " I am, sir, when I choose to act ; and I choose it now. 
 Lieutenant Somers," he added, addressing his next in com 
 mand, " put the sergeant of police under arrest, and send 
 his men to their quarters. Mr. Cantwell, you have no 
 longer authority here I shall be responsible to the proper 
 authorities for this conduct of mine, when required," and 
 slightly bowing to the clergyman, he moved along in front 
 of his men. In another minute, all was as quiet and peace 
 able as if a loud word had not been spoken. The crowd 
 immediately broke up, each one talking of the scrimmage 
 to his neighbor, and laughing over the different accidents 
 that occurred, or recounting the deeds he had done in the 
 "battle." Whilst the scene above described was taking 
 place, others of a less exciting description were occurring 
 in different parts of the village. 
 
 At an open window of a very elegant mansion, remote 
 from the business localities of Donegal, sat two young 
 ladies, chatting pleasantly together, and enjoying the cool 
 air of the evening. The elder of the two was Emily John 
 ston, daughter of General Johnston, the owner of the es 
 tablishment, and then in England engaged on business 
 connected with his profession. The other was Ellen 
 O Donnell, the only remaining child of Edward O Donnell, 
 formerly of Larkfield Castle, in the county Leitrim, but 
 now a portrait painter in Florence, and but a few months 
 returned from Italy, where she had spent the last ten years 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 71 
 
 of Her life. General Johnston had formed an intimate ac 
 quaintance with her father, during his stay at Florence, 
 where he had gone some years before, at the request of 
 George IV., to purchase cartoons for the pavilion at 
 Brighton. It was in consequence of this acquaintance 
 tli at the general, on his return to Italy with his daughter 
 in 182-, again visited the city of painters, renewed his in 
 timacy with Edward O Donnell, and at the solicitation of 
 Emily, obtained permission for Ellen to accompany them 
 to England, and thence, after a short stay, to their country 
 seat in Donegal. 
 
 Edward O Donnell was the last lineal descendant of the 
 kings of that name. He had but one brother living, and 
 he was a Dominican friar, supposed to be in some part of 
 Southern Europe, but of whom he received no intelligence 
 for the last seven years. His children all died young but 
 Ellen, and she was now the only tie that bound him to life. 
 The Larkfield estate had remained in possession of the fam 
 ily ever since the reign of the old kings, and until some 
 time after the peace of Europe. It was their last refuge 
 amid all their trials and persecutions ; and they regarded 
 it always as a kingly residence, the birthplace and nursery 
 of a royal race. At length, however, it became so encum 
 bered by the interest of old debts long accumulating, that 
 it was finally put to the hammer, and Edward of Larkfield 
 was cast penniless on the world. Too far advanced in 
 years to enter the military service of Spain, where many 
 of his relatives were forced to seek their fortunes, and too 
 proud to remain in his native land as a beggar, where he 
 felt himself entitled to rule as a king, he resolved to emi 
 grate to Florence, where he hoped his pencil would earn 
 a competence for himself and his child. 
 
 Edward had already acquired considerable celebrity as 
 a painter. He had spent the last five years of his minority 
 in Florence, and was just beginning to take a respectable 
 rank among the artists of that famous city, when his father 
 
72 SHANDY M GUIBE, OR 
 
 died, and he was called home to take possession of his 
 estate. 
 
 Before his departure from Florence, he discovered that 
 a maternal relative, Hugh O Donnell, who lost his life at 
 Ravenna in 1512, had left a collection of paintings of con 
 siderable value, with Count Frioli, of Parma, in trust for 
 the rightful heir, should he ever claim them. These con 
 sisted of a " Sampson," (breaking the chains,) by Michael 
 Angelo ; a " Madonna," by Raphael, and a number of the 
 earlier productions of Titian and Giorgione, with all of 
 whom he had cultivated an acquaintance of the strictest 
 and friendliest intimacy, under the guardianship of Cardinal 
 Bibiano, afterwards secretary to Leo X. These splendid 
 bequests he succeeded in recovering, after much anxiety 
 and perseverance, and carried them with him, notwithstand 
 ing the difficulty and danger from the severe restrictions 
 of the Italian laws, home to his patrimony in Leitrim. 
 Surrounded by the works of the old masters, his whole 
 time and attention was now devoted to his easel, declining 
 all intercourse with the neighboring gentry, whom he ever 
 regarded more as serfs than as equals the usurpers of his 
 rights, rather than the lawful inheritors of the soil. When, 
 at length, he found himself, after many struggles and long- 
 enduring trials, driven from his residence, he sold all the 
 property he possessed in the world, personal and real, ex 
 cept his paintings, from which he never parted; and the 
 last of the O Donnells, with his wife and daughter, sought 
 a home in a foreign land. He chose Florence. 
 
 Ellen had now reached her nineteenth year. She was a 
 tall, graceful, and eminently beautiful girl. Her features 
 wore an expression of melancholy, that assorted well with 
 the sad reverses of her family fortunes, and chastened 
 rather than lessened the high aristocratic tone of feeling 
 that marked her countenance. Educated in the convents 
 of Italy, surrounded almost from her infancy by all that is 
 great and magnificent in Christian worship, and inheriting 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 73 
 
 the chivalrous Catholic spirit of her fathers, she was 
 enthusiastic in her attachment to the " old faith." Her 
 native country held the next place in her affections. On 
 both subjects she was haughty and inflexible ; on all others 
 of less interest, gay, cheerful, and entertaining. But we 
 must not anticipate. 
 
 The low window at which the two ladies were seated, 
 looked out, as already observed, on a quiet and remote 
 part of the village. A deep palisade before the house in 
 tercepted, in a great measure, the noise proceeding from 
 the business and bustle of the fair, and gave to the resi 
 dence a somewhat retired appearance. Notwithstanding, 
 however, the shouts and cheers of the populace made their 
 way thither from time to time, and elicited from the ladies 
 occasional conjectures as to what might be passing, or 
 more philosophical remarks, perhaps, on the impulsive and 
 excitable character of the people. 
 
 " What a savage people, Ellen," said Miss Johnston, on 
 hearing a loud shout from the further end of the town ; 
 " really, they act more like New Zealanders than as a civil 
 ized people if indeed they can be called civilized." 
 
 " Only giving you a proof," replied her companion, " how 
 happy they would be under a paternal government. A 
 light-hearted people, Emily, are easily satisfied." 
 
 "But look," said Emily, without attending to the reply, 
 "look how wretched they appear. See that group passing 
 the gate. How fortunate, Ellen, you have not to pass 
 your life amongst such beings ! " 
 
 " If fortune prove no kinder, Emily, I shall have little to 
 thank her for." 
 
 " Oh, you cannot be serious." 
 
 " Never more serious in my life." 
 
 " Well, I can t conceive, for the life of me," said Miss 
 Johnston, with affected surprise, " how you could exist in 
 the midst of such barbarism." 
 
 " I would give the wide world, Emily, to be once more 
 
74 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 amongst them, mistress of that old castle you see beyond 
 there, where my ancestors reigned before they were driven 
 to Larkfield. It is now in ruins but still dearer to me 
 than all the earth beside." 
 
 "But the people do you love them still as fondly as 
 ever?" 
 
 " Fonder than ever," said her companion ; " their mis 
 fortunes bind them every day nearer and closer to my 
 heart." 
 
 " Indeed, Ellen, you astonish me you, especially, who 
 have seen so much of the world so much courted during 
 our stay in London the admired in all the fashionable 
 circles of the great metropolis. Why, it s almost in 
 credible ! " 
 
 " It was there I learned best the sterling worth of my 
 poor countrymen," observed Ellen. 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " In contrasting the licentiousness and deception prac 
 tised there, with the pure morality, chivalrous honor, and 
 unbending integrity of the poor peasantry you see before 
 you" 
 
 "You are a happy girl, Ellen," said Miss Johnston; "I 
 wish I could feel as proud of my countrymen as you seem 
 to do." 
 
 "I feel," said her companion, with a promptness that 
 marked how sincerely she spoke, "I feel as every Irish 
 woman ought to feel proud of her fine old land, with all 
 its old memories around it. I am but a simple girl, my 
 dear Emily, and speak my thoughts without reserve. I 
 love my countrymen for their virtues virtues that have 
 ever clung to them bright and beautiful, amid the gloom 
 and horrors of a terrible destiny. Oh, they have never yet 
 deserted them." 
 
 " Such sentiments might do very well," said Miss John 
 ston, smiling somewhat equivocally, " three or four cen 
 turies ago ; but in this age, and in the society we live in, 
 they are perfectly inadmissible a complete outrage." 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 75 
 
 " Perhaps so ; but you don t reflect how little I prize 
 English society. I never can be taught to like society that 
 has nothing but its vices to recommend it." 
 
 " Vices ! oh, no, Ellen, you are too severe ; call them in 
 dulgences. And you know, without some indulgences, life 
 would be intolerable." 
 
 " I know of no indulgence, either rich or poor can claim, 
 at the expense of religion, or the interests of our fellow- 
 creatures. The law of God recognizes no distinction of 
 persons." 
 
 " Oh, of course," replied Miss Johnston ; " I don t dis 
 pute that ; but you know, if we followed that law in every 
 respect, we should all be nuns and anchorites." 
 
 "And therefore the better Christians," said Ellen; "did 
 we possess but half the charity they do, the poor mendi 
 cants at our door would not so often upbraid us with our 
 luxuries. But the law does not command us to be either 
 nuns or anchorites, but to perform our religious and social 
 duties in a Christain spirit. The wickedness of the world 
 has made more nuns and anchorites than the counsels of 
 the gospel. Had society been what God intended it to be, 
 there would have been no need of such seclusion." 
 
 " Pah ! Ellen dear, I hate moralizing it s so Methodis- 
 tical. Come, let us have some music. I m weary of this 
 monotony but look," she added, rising, "look here, who 
 is this gentleman opening the gate ? He- seems, by the 
 smile on his face, to be one of your acquaintances. Good 
 heavens, how hideous he is ! " 
 
 It was poor " Dick the Omedaun." He had recognized 
 his friend, and came to speak to her. 
 
 " God s blissin be on your purty face, Miss Ellen," said 
 Dick, smiling, as he looked at his favorite, leaning towards 
 him from the window ; " it diz one good to luck at ye, so 
 it diz ; won t ye shake hands with me. I like to be near 
 ye. But maybe ye forget me oh, no, Miss Ellen, ye 
 don t sure ye don t forget Dick ? " 
 
76 SHANDY M GUIKE, OK 
 
 " No, no, Dick," she replied, feelingly, " I never will for 
 get you. I should be very, very ungrateful, if I forgot 
 you, my poor fellow. You risked your life for me, Dick 
 I can never forget that." 
 
 " Oh, tare-un-ages, d ye mind it ! " ejaculated Dick. 
 "That was the wild night, wusn t it, Miss Ellen. You 
 niver got the money since?" 
 
 " No, Dick, I never expect to get it." 
 
 "Oh, maybe we might, Miss Ellen; twas a power i 
 money. Bad luck attend the villains. Don t ye mind 
 how I carried ye in my arms ? " 
 
 " Yes, and called me all the time yer lanna bought? 
 
 " Ha, ha ! ye don t forget God s blissin on ye an 
 you a most dead." 
 
 "But, look here, Dick," said Ellen, directing his atten 
 tion to her companion at her side, and of whose presence, 
 till that moment, he seemed to be completely unconscious, 
 so much was he interested in the person speaking to him 
 his hands resting on the window-sill, and his large eyes 
 fixed full on her face ; " look, how do you like this young 
 lady is she not very handsome ? " 
 
 " Phught ! " said Dick, turning his eyes towards the 
 lady for an instant, and then withdrawing them, " she s 
 only a sassenayh. Miss Ellen. I like yerself far betther. 
 That s the general s daughter I know her rightly." 
 
 "And what is a sassenagh ?" inquired Miss Johnston. 
 
 "Oh, I don t know," said Dick, scarcely heeding the 
 question. 
 
 Tell the lady, Dick." 
 
 "Oh, sure they re the people beyont the wather that 
 hates us bekase " 
 
 " Because what ? " demanded Emily. 
 
 " Bekase I don t know they say it s bekase we go to 
 mass, and haven t good clothes; that s what Shandy says, 
 and sure he knows. Don t be stay in with them, Miss 
 Ellen, don t, they ll be makin ye forget iz." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS . 77 
 
 " Stand out of the way ! " cried an angry voice to some 
 one obstructing the passage at the gate, " leave the side 
 walk, sir ; what business have you here ? " 
 
 " Oh ! that s him, that s him ! " muttered Dick, his voice 
 immediately falling to a stage whisper. 
 
 " Whom do you mean," inquired Ellen. 
 
 " Him that murdhered Mary Curran ; don t you know 
 him?" 
 
 Murdered ? " 
 
 " Ay, surely sure she s buried in the ould abbey." 
 
 "You forget yourself, Dick," said Ellen, reprovingly. 
 "I shall be displeased if jou talk so." 
 
 " Indeed, it s as thrue as yer there. They say he broke 
 her heart in two jist as ye d break a Jcippeen (little stick), 
 and then you know she died." 
 
 The two girls looked at each other, as if commiserating 
 the darkness of the poor fellow s intellect, and believing 
 this story to be some momentary creation of his wild and 
 restless fancy. They said nothing, however, but permitted 
 him to proceed. 
 
 " He s a bad man, Miss Ellen, to brak a poor girl s heart 
 that way, an her not doin any harm." He paused for a 
 moment to think, and then looking up again in Ellen s 
 face, said sternly, " Troth, if I had a gun, id shoot him ! " 
 
 " Shoot him ! " repeated Ellen, awed by the sullen de 
 cision with which he spoke. 
 
 " Well," said Dick, musingly, " I would, only for Father 
 Domnick he d surely fin it out. They say he knows 
 ivry thing." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " Father Domnick. But he wudn t let me go on my 
 knees to him like the rest." 
 
 "Why so, Dick?" 
 
 " Oh, I don t know he said I was an innocent creathur. 
 God bless him, he s very ould I believe. He ll soon be 
 goin there himself; but tell me, Miss Ellen, isn t it a quare 
 thing to see an ould man cryin ? " 
 
78 SHANDY M GUTRE, OB 
 
 "Who was crying, Dick?" 
 
 " Father Domnick twas at Mary s funeral. An sure, 
 I was cryin too. Troth was I I cudn,t help it, some 
 way. My mother says I niver cried afore since I was the 
 size i that. Well, I ll tell ye. Ye know all the people 
 cum in from ivry place ay, as much as id be in a market 
 
 an oh, what a gatherm i young girls. Mary Connor 
 was there too. D ye know Mary Connor ? no, ye don t 
 
 ould Jemmie s daughter that has the mill. My mother 
 said Mary was the queen i the whole i them. An then 
 you know when mass was over, up they gets an walks in 
 rows jest for all the world like sodgers. Oh, it was very 
 purty, Miss Ellen. I was thinkin av you then. I was 
 sayin to Mickey Durnin, if you were there ye d take the 
 shine out i them all. Whin we cum to th ould abbey, 
 who d be there but the minister, ridin on a big black 
 horse, jist at the gate. Sure, they say the ould place be 
 longed to iz long ago. I don t like it any way, it s bare 
 now a most as myself, " looking at his tattered garments 
 with a melancholy smile ; "troth, it is an them black 
 crows be s in it ivry night to scar people. Whusper, Miss 
 Ellen, sure I was afeerd the docthors id be goin to lift 
 Mary bad luck to them, they say they be goin about 
 the new graves. Well, sure, I slipt out when my mother 
 was asleep, an stole over to th ould place to sit awhile 
 beside the crathur, for fear, ye know. It was very dark 
 horrid dark, an rainin ye wudn t see yer finger afore ye 
 
 but norra bit I cared beside Mary. Her ghost wouldn t 
 do me any harm she was a good crathur, jist like yer- 
 self. Tell me, is that ould castle yours ? Shandy says it 
 is. Maybe ye d come an live in t ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes but you were talking of the abbey," said 
 Ellen, " you were not afraid to remain there at night ? " 
 
 " No, feen a bit av Mary I was afeerd, but them crows 
 was frightenin me ; they were black, ill-luckin things. 
 D ye know, Miss Ellen, I thought they ough n t to be com- 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 79 
 
 in about Mary s grave that way. Sure, the minister made 
 Father Domnick take aff the black ribbon that was on his 
 neck. He said he d pit him in jail if he didn t. I dinno 
 cud he, Miss Ellen ? " 
 
 " Certainly, Dick, so I m told but you said Father 
 Domnick was crying." 
 
 " Oh, ay, deed was he tell me, did ye ever see an 
 ould priest cryin ? Well, no one seen it but myself. He 
 cudn t spake right, some way ; he. was only whisperin ; 
 that s when the coffin was pit in, ye know. I was beside 
 him, jist as near as I m to you, an siz he, God be merciful 
 to ye, Mary Curran, an forgive them that tuck yer life. 
 Well, when he said that, I lucked up an saw the tears 
 runnin down his cheeks in sthrames. No one saw him 
 but me I was under him on my knees, an he kept his 
 han jist that way like a body that id be ashamed ; an 
 then siz I, on my knees, when I saw him cryin , I ll kill him 
 for that ; an I promised with my hands that way, by the 
 five crosses I wud. So I must do it, Miss Ellen." 
 
 " Oh, Dick, Dick ! " said Ellen, starting from her seat, 
 and shuddering at the solemnity with which he pronounced 
 the last words, "you must not do that that would be 
 murder, Dick. I must speak to Father Domnick about it; 
 indeed I shall." 
 
 " Well, if ye do," said Dick, " I ll niver care about ye 
 more ; ill niver call ye my lanna bought again." Dick 
 turned from the window and walked out slowly to the 
 road. He stood there for a moment, holding the handle 
 of the open gate, and looking wistfully at his favorite. At 
 length he closed the gate, shook his hand at Miss Ellen to 
 keep the secret from Father Domnick (for he feared not 
 all the world but him), and turned towards the fair. 
 
80 SHANDY M GUIEE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE SAME CONTINUED. ANOTHER LETTER OF SOME IM 
 PORTANCE. 
 
 IN the dusk of the evening the agent of Colonel Tera- 
 pleton (whom we shall call Cantwell simply for the future, 
 adding reverend as a distinction in his father s favor) had 
 been seen standing for upwards of an hour at the corner 
 of the Diamond, twirling his cane between his forefinger 
 and thumb, and bandying compliments with the country 
 girls as they passed. He was dressed in black, and wore 
 a white glove on his left hand. His right was uncovered, 
 but on its little finger was a ring apparently of some value. 
 The rays from a newly lighted lamp in the window of a 
 store behind him fell occasionally on the brilliant, as he 
 turned and twirled the cane, and gave to the wearer an 
 air of fashionable dandyism which, on a nearer approach, 
 contrasted strangely with his long, dark, sepulchral visage. 
 He was evidently waiting there for some one, for he looked 
 anxiously up and down the sidewalk when not engaged in 
 making his mock compliments to the passers-by. At 
 length he began to feel impatient, and instead of giving 
 the cane a circular motion, struck it now perpendicularly 
 on the ground very rapidly, and with considerable force. 
 While thus employed, Doogan the butcher made his ap 
 pearance. 
 
 "Humph!" said Cantwell, "you come when it suits 
 your convenience. Well, what of Devlin? did you do 
 that?" 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 81 
 
 " I wadna dout, yer honor," replied the butcher, " but 
 he s a Ribbonman a ready." 
 
 " Why do you think so ? " 
 
 " Why, I ken by his snickerin an laughin , when he met 
 them suspeckit cheels ye wur spakin o doun by there." 
 
 " Whom do you mean ? " 
 
 " Why, Shandy M Guire, as they ca him, an a wheen 
 ither birds i the same hatchin ." 
 
 " Did you put the paper on his person, as you promised ? " 
 again demanded Cantwell, speaking low, and looking round 
 about for an instant. 
 
 " He s spotted, yer honor," replied Doogan. " The deil s 
 na surer o his ain than yer honor is o him, gin ye like to 
 mak the grab," and he grinned, as he spoke, like the arch 
 fiend himself. 
 
 " And where is it to be found ? " inquired Cantwell, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " In his boot," was the reply ; " he maun wear buskins 
 now, like any ither^ young gentleman." 
 
 " Ha ! are you positive you put it there ; how did you 
 effect it?" 
 
 Why, whin them clevers o ballad singers began their 
 Ribbon sangs, I gaed down amang them, an seein Dev 
 lin, I squeezed mysel alangside o the lad. Sae whin the 
 scrimmage begun, and a were drivin helter-skelter on tap 
 o us, I fell down aside the cheel, jist as if ane had gaen 
 me a wallup o a cudgel, an pud the threws (trousers) 
 up and drapped in the bit paper. Hegh ! mun, I ne er in 
 a my life nabbed a cove sae cannie. Deil hae me, if they 
 wurna trampin ower me like an auld dead doag. Weel, 
 I ll no be mindin yer honor i the wee bit Ian ye prom 
 ised ; ye ll aye keep me in yer honor s thocghts, na dout." 
 Then, as his eye caught a glance of the brilliant on his 
 patron s finger, he exclaimed, " Hah ! that s the ring I 
 see ye like it it s a bra stane, yer honor. Did ye mak 
 oot the device, as ye ca d it ? " 
 6 
 
82 SHANDY M GUIKE, OB 
 
 " No, I can t read it, Doogan. You say you found it at 
 Ballycastle ? " 
 
 " Within a wheen miles o it, yer honor, jist peepin out 
 amang the dust on the road. But I wudna be ower gaen 
 to wear it in the fairs an markets, yer honor ; gin the 
 owner id see it, he might thraw my wizen for the bawble." 
 
 " Did you not tell me you found it ten years ago ? " 
 
 " Ou ay, but ye ken, it s no like goud or siller, it s no 
 easy to mistak it, and maybe the owner might be deil- 
 driven eneugh to say I rabbed him o t. It s a bra ring for 
 ane that it s fittin for but it s na worth a bodle to me. 
 Weel, I doutna yer honor ill no like me the waur o the 
 ring, when ye hae iccasion to befreen me in the bit farm." 
 
 " Is it not enough that I have promised ? " said Cant- 
 well, again striking the ground with the cane, in evident 
 vexation. 
 
 " Plenty, yer honor ; I d tak yer word for a thousan , 
 withoot scrap or witness." 
 
 " Very well, let it rest so. Go down, now," he contin 
 ued, laying his hand on the butcher s arm, and bending his 
 head a little closer to his ear ; " go down to the barrack, 
 and tell the policeman in charge (the sergeant was already 
 placed under arrest), tell him I wish Devlin to be taken to 
 the barrack forthwith to be strictly searched, and if any 
 Ribbon papers or other such evidence of conspiracy be 
 found on his person, to be detained a prisoner till further 
 orders." 
 
 Cantwell drew the glove over his right hand, turned up 
 the cane under his arm, and began to walk leisurely in a 
 homeward direction. He stalked along with the air of 
 one born to lord it over such serfs as surrounded him, 
 touching his hat occasionally to the better dressed, and 
 passing his humbler dependent without nod or recogni 
 tion. Conscious of the power he possessed as agent of 
 the great Templeton estate, aware of the awe he inspired 
 for his authority, and brought up from his childhood amidst 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 83 
 
 hatred and contempt for everything Irish, he looked, as he 
 turned his eye lazily from face to face, and strided past, to 
 be the living counterpart of Glenalvon, when he said to 
 the peasant Douglas, 
 
 " Dost thou not know Glenalvon, born to command 
 Ten thousand slaves like thee ? " 
 
 Whatever may have been his thoughts at that moment, 
 they were suddenly interrupted by a peculiar, or rather a 
 sort of confidential, plucking of the skirt of his coat. He 
 turned slowly round, without either surprise or displeasure, 
 as one does who understands the niceties to be observed 
 in secret intercourse, and found himself beside a little man, 
 blind of an eye, and wearing a tattered brown overcoat 
 that covered him from the neck to the ankles. 
 
 " Follow me," said the little man, in a low, suppressed 
 tone, and he turned down a lane leading to the old castle 
 which Ellen O Donnell alluded to when conversing in 
 the last chapter with her companion at the open window. 
 Cantwell obeyed without hesitation, convinced by the 
 stealthy manner of the stranger s request he had something 
 interesting to communicate. When they had got as far 
 as the ruins of the old building, the little man, facing his 
 companion somewhat abruptly, and lifting his hat till he 
 bared his forehead, said, while he labored under a painful 
 impediment of utterance, "Di ye know me, sir?" 
 
 " No," said Cantwell, after a pause, during which his eye 
 passed over the whole person of the stranger with a scru 
 tinizing gaze. " No, I can t remember just now to have 
 seen you before." 
 
 " That s quare enough," said the little man. 
 
 " Only that you have lost an eye, and your manner of 
 speaking is so very different, I would have taken you for 
 another," observed Cantwell, still examining the stranger s 
 person. 
 
 " An who is that ?" said the little man, scarcely able to 
 articulate the words. 
 
84 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 " A man they call Andy, or Shandy M Guire. Do you 
 know him ? " 
 
 " I do," replied the stranger ; " who disn t know Shandy ; 
 the greatest villain " 
 
 " Well, well," interrupted Cantwell ; " enough ! What 
 is your business with me ? " 
 
 " To warn you av danger." 
 
 " Danger ! humph ! in what shape is the danger to ap 
 pear?" 
 
 "I m but a poor man, yer honor," he replied, "an my 
 life s in japirdy too. Will ye gi me yer word, as a gintle- 
 man, that ye ont tell it ? " 
 
 " Pagh ! " ejaculated Cantwell ; " I did not come here to 
 be fooled with ; tell me your business at once, sir, or I shall 
 compel you to tell it." 
 
 "Maybe ye mightn t do that so aisy as ye think; well, 
 there s four or five men to murdher ye whin ye re goin 
 home th night. If they ketch ye out alone, ye ll not be 
 worth the liftin ." 
 
 "Ha ! that s the danger, is it; and who are you, pray?" 
 
 " Oh, no matter; it s enough that I was sent to warn ye; 
 so that s all I wus bid tell ye." 
 
 "And who sent you, my honest man, eh?" 
 
 " Oh, one that has a rigard for ye ; she toul me not to 
 minshin her name." 
 
 " Her name ! " repeated Cantwell ; humph ! "who is she? 
 I roust know her name." 
 
 " Oh, faith, I darn t," said the little man ; " she s mighty 
 onaisy about ye ; but am bound not to speak a word 
 honor bright, Mr. Cantwell." 
 
 " D n your honor, sir ; honor from you paugh ! who 
 is she, sir ? " 
 
 " I m a poor man," said the stranger again, " I cudn t." 
 
 " Here," said Cantwell, taking off his right-hand glove, 
 and handing the little man a guinea from his purse ; " here, 
 try will that open your mouth." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 85 
 
 " Open sesame ! " ejaculated the little man, pocketing 
 the gold ; that s a beauty av a ring an yer honor s finger." 
 
 " The name, sir the name ? " demanded Cantwell, con 
 siderably annoyed. 
 
 "Mary Connor, the miller s daughter," whispered the 
 stranger, almost in his ear. 
 
 Cantwell was taken completely by surprise. From the 
 failure of the overture made to the young girl through 
 Goodsoul, he feared he should have some trouble in bring 
 ing her to terms, and accordingly gave up all hopes of im 
 mediate success, resolving rather to go systematically to 
 work, by first getting rid of Frank Devlin, to whom she 
 was shortly to have been married, and then working on 
 her fears for her father s ejection from his little holding. 
 But now that affairs had taken so sudden a turn in his 
 favor he knew not well what to think ; he rejoiced at his 
 good fortune, and yet he feared there might be deception 
 practised upon him. Under this feeling of apprehension 
 he again examined the features of the stranger, as he 
 said, 
 
 "Mary Connor; humph! perhaps so but where s the 
 proof?" 
 
 "The proof s here," said the little man, touching the 
 pocket of his overcoat ; but there s one thing yet to do 
 afore I give the letter." 
 
 " The letter ! what is that one thing ? " earnestly in 
 quired Cantwell. 
 
 " That yer honor swears 
 
 "I swear nothing, not a word." 
 
 " Well, that ye ll give yer word an honor as a gintle- 
 man, that ye won t, while yer a brathin mortial man, iver 
 minshin her name, as ye did Mary Curran s." 
 
 " Agreed," said Cantwell ; " I pledge my honor ; that is, 
 if she don t deceive me." 
 
 " Then there s the letter," said the stranger. 
 
 Cantwell took from his hand something in the shape 
 
86 SHANDY M GUIEE, OR 
 
 of a letter. It was perfectly square, very much soiled, 
 and sealed with some substance like shoemakers wax, 
 stamped with a thimble. On the back of the missive 
 were written the words, " His honor, Mr. Archibal Cant- 
 well aistquire." As he opened the letter, a piece of paper 
 dropped on the ground, which the little man took up and 
 held until Cantwell had finished reading the epistle. 
 
 " Ha ! " muttered Cantwell, " ill be in danger, will If 
 humph ! well, what next to be at the Mill at 10 ; very 
 good capital excellent! Not for any harm. Oh, no, 
 not the least harm. Oh, of course not. Humph ! ye know 
 my father always paid his rint dacently, an? niver was back 
 a penny. Very true, to be sure. Sine this racet. Ha ! 
 ha ! she must have her terms ; well, that s all I wanted 
 agreed. Remimber^ dorit cum afther 10, they ll be all home 
 thin. Agreed again. Notebani. Oh, surely; why not? 
 If we re to be married, it ill hatf to be afore the wurl. Ha ! 
 ha ! by George that s capital ; married, no less. Well 
 ye may thrust the bearer into the sea, I suppose. A 
 beautiful epistle from my adored one capital ! " 
 
 When he had ended he took the blank receipt from the 
 little man s hand, and again looked steadily in his face. 
 
 " Be cautious how far you proceed in this affair, honest 
 friend," said he, " for if I am deceived, by h your life 
 shall pay the forfeit." 
 
 " An welkim," replied the little man. 
 
 " What is your name ? " demanded Cantwell. 
 
 " Hudy M Gettigan, yer honor, a son of ould Billy s of 
 Dumnasillach. Sure ye know my uncle Donahy Buoy 
 that lives " 
 
 " No, no," cried Cantwell, impatiently ; " I do not know ; 
 but no matter tell me, M Gettigan, are you fond of 
 gold?" 
 
 " Very," said the little man. 
 
 " Would you make yourself useful if I employed and 
 paid you well?" 
 
TEICKS UPON TRAVELLEKS. 87 
 
 " Fegs, I don t know ; sure, av coorse id do my best to 
 earn a penny in honesty. But, yer honor ill be a betther 
 jige afther th night. Ye ll aisy fin me, when am awant- 
 in . Hudy McGettigan s as well known as a bad half 
 penny, yer honor." 
 
 " Very likely, very likely it is not by any means dif 
 ficult to recognize that face and tongue the latter being, 
 in your case at least, a very unruly member ; " and Cant- 
 well laughed at the miserable pun. " However," he added, 
 " I shall now sign the receipt come, we must get pen 
 and ink." 
 
 " Here they are, yer honor," said the stranger, drawing 
 an ink-bottle from the depth of his capacious pocket, and 
 taking a pen from under the inner lining of his hat ; " here, 
 yer honor, here s the vaniency, and there s the crown i 
 my caubeen to write on." Cantwell filled and signed a 
 clear receipt. 
 
 As he handed the document to the little man, he re 
 marked a slight indication of a smile on his countenance ; 
 but attributing it very naturally to the pleasure he felt in 
 having concluded his business so satisfactorily, he said 
 nothing on that score, but observed, that for the safety of 
 all parties, there should be a password agreed upon. 
 
 " Cupid, I think," said Cantwell, " will be appropriate ; 
 tell her Cupid is the password do you understand ? " 
 
 " Arrah, will yer honor let iz alone," said the little man, 
 with a knowing wink of his lonely eye ; " is t Cupid, the 
 darlin himself, that ust to kill iz all entirely ? Pooh, yer 
 honor, jist lave it to me." 
 
 " Very well, I m satisfied ; but be cautious, and remem 
 ber your instructions." 
 
 " Jist trust me for this once ; never fear Hudy ; he 
 knows the cards. In troth, I ll give ye the queen i hearts 
 this night, yer honor, an no one the wiser. Och, may 
 showers i love attend ye anyway; but yer the dacent 
 liberal gintleman." 
 
88 SHANDY M GUIKE, on 
 
 The agent waited not to hear these encomiums, but hur 
 ried up the lane. The little man disappeared within the 
 walls of the old castle, and was observed to be in the act 
 of disencumbering himself of the brown overcoat, as he 
 became invisible amid the ruins. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 89 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 BEING A CHAPTER OF REFLECTIONS. 
 
 " IT must be admitted the Irish are a wonderful peo 
 ple," said the Duke, after the charge at Quatre-Bras. We 
 agree with him fully ; happy to think, even if it be only 
 once in our lives, we have the pleasure of coinciding in 
 opinion with so distinguished a personage. His reasons, 
 however, and ours, may be very different, though the con 
 clusion be the same. Very likely the Duke s wonder was 
 excited on seeing his Irish troops display so much valor 
 and desperate daring in a struggle from which they had 
 nothing to gain, but the consciousness of having drawn 
 the slave-chain still closer around them, by strengthening 
 the arm of a cruel, despotic, and anti-national government. 
 So far the commander-in-chief was perfectly right. In 
 deed, the whole world agrees with him on that point. But 
 our reasons are somewhat different, more numerous, and 
 equally conclusive. Besides, the Duke s then opinion of 
 the Irish people is of comparatively little consequence 
 now to the reader or the writer of these pages, since he 
 has long since thought proper to retract it. He has for 
 gotten, many a year ago, the veterans of the Douro and 
 Waterloo, and sat tamely by, whilst a half-bred alien 
 chancellor made his " alien " speech against their claims 
 to the rights of free-born subjects ; he sat when he should 
 have arisen, and in the words of the orator of the House 
 of Commons, have cried, " Hold, sir, I saw the aliens do 
 their duty." But who that has followed him in his extra- 
 
90 SHANDY M GTJIRE, OE- 
 
 ordinary career, from the time he used to lisp Ion-mots and 
 mumble sugar-plums in Regent s Park, till he found him 
 self the enthroned monarch in Apsly-house, can doubt for 
 a moment the influence court favor had in inducing him 
 to barter the rights of his native land, the honor, the in 
 tegrity of his once fair name, for the paltry glory with 
 which he is now surrounded a glory in which there is 
 not mingled one single blessing of his country or his race 
 to hallow it? How truly has the immortal bard antici 
 pated his future character, when he said, 
 
 " Wellington or Villainton for fame sounds 
 The heroic syllable both ways ! " 
 
 It cannot be denied, the Irish are a strange people. 
 They can boast of more contradictions and eccentricities 
 of character than any other nation on the face of the globe. 
 Well, and what then ? it is their genius every nation 
 has its genius ; to be sure it has ; but in the Irish nation 
 it s barbarism. 
 
 The Irish are democrats in their public meetings, and 
 aristocrats at home. They are forever shouting for equality 
 among men as their birthright, and despising their neigh 
 bors, at the same time, for the lowness of the family con 
 nections ; and this in republics is called a weakness ; in Ire 
 land, the birthplace of a thousand kings, it is but the result 
 of brutal ignorance. 
 
 They work like slaves, and hoard up like misers, while 
 left to the solitude of their farms ; but once that monotony 
 is interrupted by the bustle of the fair, and the hearty 
 laugh of their old acquaintances, all the necessities of the 
 present, and all dread of future poverty is forgotton in a 
 moment. Ask him then to lend his money, or to defend 
 your person at the risk of his life, and he hands you the 
 purse, or lifts the shillelah without a moment s hesitation. 
 This, in England, is genuine philanthropy in Ireland, 
 but the impulse of animal passion. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 91 
 
 He protects his little property at every hazard. He will 
 sue his neighbor for the slightest encroachment on his land 
 often when the damage would not amount to a shilling 
 in a thousand years. But go to his house, ask him to re 
 lieve you from pecuniary embarassment, and you see him 
 in an instant undergo an extraordinary change. He does 
 not speculate like the Scotchman on your usefulness as a 
 friend, nor like the Englishman, will he take time to con 
 sider by telling you to call again to-morrow; but ."Nancy 
 Asthore, bring up that ould stockin from the chist ; sure, 
 it s God sent it to us, to help ye, my poor fella , in yer 
 pinch." For this the Englishman would be called a bene 
 factor the Irishman a reckless spendthrift. 
 
 Pride is his ruling impulse. He labors to maintain the 
 credit of his little family not for the bare means of sub 
 sistence. He pays his rent, not exactly because he thinks 
 it an equivalent for the land he occupies, but through the 
 dread of being ejected from the homestead of his fathers, 
 associated as it is with all the little family honors. This 
 pride, even amid all his misfortunes, never deserts him. 
 He never loses a full consciousness of his native dignity. 
 If he be crushed down, it is but the body the spirit still 
 rises and swells out in the conflict. And when at last he 
 is driven from his home, he remains not in the vicinity to 
 beg from his friends and relatives, but covering up his face 
 from their gaze, he takes his wife and children by the hand, 
 and seeks his daily pittance from the strangers in some re 
 mote part of his native island ; or, if the means be still 
 left him, leaves it forever to gain a humble, but honorable 
 livelihood in free America. In England this would be 
 called misfortune ; but in Ireland it is only the result of 
 lazy, indolent habits. 
 
 It will be said (and who can doubt it ?) that mendi 
 cants are more numerous in Ireland than in any other equal 
 portion of the globe. And is there to be found any other 
 nation of the globe where the causes of beggary have been 
 
92 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 either more effective or more numerous than in Ireland ? 
 Absenteeism, exorbitant rents, want of tenure, want of 
 manufactures, church endowments each and every one 
 of these is sufficient of itself to pauperize Ireland ; what 
 therefore must be the effect of them all combined ? Yet 
 notwithstanding all these, the able-bodied paupers of Eng 
 land exceed those of Ireland in a ratio of twelve to four; 
 and of these four it will be found, on strict inquiry, that 
 more than a half have been, and now are, the offsprings 
 of mendicants having followed the profession, father and 
 son, mother and daughter, for centuries. Once the little 
 pride was lost, all shame and delicacy abandoned them, 
 and their children grew up careless and indifferent like 
 their parents ; their ambition never carrying them beyond 
 the mere wants and exigencies of the day. While the 
 manufactures of Ireland, before and for a very short time 
 after the passing of the legislative union, were in operation, 
 there were few mendicants to be found, and the people 
 were comparatively happy and prosperous. But as soon 
 as the capital was removed from the country, on the circu 
 lation of which a large portion of the laboring class de 
 pended chiefly for support, the people had no resource but 
 the land, and it was already divided and subdivided into 
 farms so small as to afford only a moderate return to the 
 immediate occupants. The dying father saw his sons en 
 tirely unprovided for they had neither trade nor profes 
 sion from which to derive their maintenance, and hence he 
 was obliged to divide his property equally among all. 
 Each received his quota of the inheritance, and on that 
 was to be placed his sole reliance ; for he had not even the 
 alternative of becoming a day laborer, his neighbor s little 
 spot of ground being equally small as his own, and in 
 capable of affording any extra employment. According 
 to a valuation in 1830, the average of farms under crop did 
 not exceed four acres and a half. Hence, then, the Irish 
 man was obliged to work on his little " holding," and if he 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 93 
 
 at length sank to beggary under the pressure of misfor 
 tunes, he either found his way to other countries, where 
 labor received a better remuneration, or he was thrown out 
 a mere mass of bones a cripple pauper, on the charity 
 of his fellow-creatures. 
 
 If pauperism, therefore, has increased in Ireland since 
 the union, England alone is the cause of the calamity. 
 But when the voice of the people of that unhappy country, 
 not her own sense of justice, had forced her to entertain 
 their application for employment, how did she attempt to 
 remedy the evil? Was it by a repeal of the laws under 
 which they were reduced to that condition ? ~No ; such a 
 course might trench, perhaps, too closely on the imperish 
 able rights and privileges of the aristocracy. Such a course, 
 however equitable, would harmonize too much the jarring 
 discords of the human family ; it would bring a wretched 
 people one degree higher up the scale of human happiness, 
 at the expense of the pensioned peers and placemen of the 
 realm. It could not be thought of for a moment. It would 
 lessen too much the distance that separated the master 
 and the slave. The idea of such an approximation might 
 do in a republic, but under an English monarchy, and an 
 English aristocracy, it was utterly alarming. The law of 
 primogeniture would soon tend to revolutionize the country, 
 instead of being the powerful arm of the oligarchy. Na 
 tional prosperity might create a confusion in rank and 
 family influence it might, in a word, enable the people 
 to examine too closely the relations between the landlord 
 and tenant, the noble and the peasant. No, no, the colo 
 nies were the remedy for the evil. They were the fittest 
 places for barbarians like the Irish. The colonies were 
 purchased with Irish blood and Irish gold, and who could 
 deserve them better as a reward for past services ? And 
 mark the care and wisdom of the project. Whilst four 
 millions of acres of reclaimable land lay waste in Ireland, 
 the government expatriates the hands by which they might 
 
94 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 have been made productive. Whilst this land, according 
 to the highest valuation, required but ten pounds an acre 
 to bring it to a state of proper cultivation, the government 
 pays out of the public treasury the sum of twenty-two 
 pounds per head for emigrants to New South Wales and 
 other colonies of the empire. And what is still worse, in 
 doing so, they ship the bone and sinew of the country, on 
 which the cultivation of the land depended (like cargoes 
 of nursery plants), to other climes, and leave the old de 
 cayed roots and trunks to rot on their own soil. And all 
 this, forsooth, was an act of pure benevolence ! When a 
 nobleman then and now high in office was remonstrated 
 with, on the lavish and unprofitable expenditure of the 
 public money (at Brook s, a few nights after he professed 
 his sympathy for the people of Ireland), he exclaimed, in 
 a fit of petulant pride and passion, " He wished to God 
 he could ship the whole nation, and consign them to the 
 d 1." 
 
 Shortly after the scheme of expatriation had been deter 
 mined on, a wealthy and benevolent gentleman (since 
 member for Kircudbright, Scotland) endeavored to form a 
 company having for its object the purchase of fee-simple 
 estates. These were to consist chiefly of mountain and 
 turbury lands that had never been reclaimed, to be given 
 to the cottier class of the Irish under leases of twenty-one 
 years for a nominal rent. For this term the tenant was to 
 pay but little to the landlord ; all his available means be^ 
 ing requisite for the reclaiming and cultivation of his farm 
 but at the expiration of the term, he was expected to 
 offer the proprietors a fair remuneration for their outlay of 
 capital. The design, therefore, was to give employment 
 to the people on their own soil, and at the same time to 
 develop the internal resources of the country. But the 
 project failed. He was invariably told, on making appli 
 cation for shares, that the object was decidedly benevolent 
 and encouraging to the enterprising capitalist, who pre- 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 95 
 
 pared himself to run all risks ; but owing to agrarian riots 
 and disturbances in the south, and party quarrels in the 
 north, it was the last country in the world a prudent man 
 would choose for the investment of his money. The de 
 sign was therefore abandoned. 
 
 In the following year, the subject was brought before 
 the government in a new form (giving Chancery the man 
 agement), but like the former, it fell through by the mis- 
 statements and false reports of the Irish executive. 
 
 The treasury paying enormous sums for the drafting off 
 a wretched heart-broken peasantry from their own fire 
 sides, where millions of acres lay beside them, inviting by 
 all their facilities for reclamation the exercise of industry 
 and labor, to foreign lands, where the revenues for half a 
 century to come could barely support the few regiments 
 of military left for their protection, is a picture of things 
 so anomalous, that we can hardly reconcile the fact with 
 the history of an age so enlightened, and of a country so 
 renowned for the wisdom of its statesmen, as the British 
 empire in the nineteenth century. 
 
 From 1809, and up to the peace of Europe, Ireland was 
 enabled by her agricultural produce to keep England from 
 starving. The Baltic was closed, America was up in arms, 
 and England had very little foreign supplies to depend on. 
 During these few years, a number of fortuitous causes con 
 curred to make Ireland a prosperous and contented coun 
 try. But when peace was proclaimed, and grain poured in 
 from the different foreign ports that had been sealed up 
 during the war, to almost inundate the home market with 
 a torrent of plenty, there was a disastrous change. Prices 
 of grain fell immediately the enormous rents with which 
 the Irish farmer was saddled were still kept up, and the 
 consequence was, the farmer saw himself reduced in a few 
 years. To remedy this, it was absolutely necessary either 
 to re-establish the manufactures, or reduce the rents in 
 some proportion to the fall of the markets. Neither of 
 
96 SHANDY M GUIEE, OK, 
 
 the two remedies was taken. Manufacture was entirely 
 out of the question, for two reasons first, because it 
 would be injurious to England, being itself a manufactur 
 ing country, having millions of operatives to employ, who 
 would be thrown out of employment by so near a com 
 petitor as Ireland. And secondly, because, as already 
 said, there was no security for the investment of capital. 
 But the reduction of rents was equally as impossible as 
 either of the two before mentioned. 
 
 The great land proprietors having followed the Irish par 
 liament to the English metropolis, felt obliged to support 
 more expensive establishments there than had been re 
 quired in the less fashionable metropolis of their own 
 country. They accordingly determined, when the produce 
 markets were high, to raise the rents in order to meet their 
 increased expenditure. The rents, however, for a time, 
 were willingly paid, for lands were valuable, and every 
 thing seemed to betoken a growing national prosperity. 
 But the change came soon and sudden. The landlords 
 were inexorable they had tasted of the luxuries of Lon 
 don life, and were resolved not to relinquish them ; never 
 to relax the hold they had once taken, nor descend one 
 step from the high position they assumed, to meet the ex 
 igencies of the times. The people were sacrificed. 
 
 Every year since the passing of the union, the social and 
 political condition of Ireland was gradually deteriorating ; 
 and if the short period from 1807 to 1815 gave hopes of 
 better times, it was only to render the disappointment and 
 reverses of after-years more afflicting and oppressive. 
 
 But if the old noblesse and aristocracy of Ireland had 
 found it necessary to graduate a degree higher up the scale 
 of English fashion, what shall we say of the union lords 
 and baronets the younglings the little unfledged ones 
 that day after day came chirping and waddling in upon 
 the theatre of fashionable life? Oh Sheridan poor lost 
 Sheridan had you lived till 1810, how many new and 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 97 
 
 improved editions of your inimitable Bob Acres could you 
 furnish, from the flocks of new-made Irish lords, baronets, 
 esquires, and gentlemen of that period ! What bustle 
 what shouldering up to the high places would you not 
 depict ! What equipages with English coachmen and 
 Parisian footmen what driving and smashing at the 
 Herald office what emblazonry of panels lions ram 
 pant, panthers couchant, sheafs of wheat, and bloody arms 
 what damning the ignorant Irish what cursing their 
 agents, after returning from the fashionable hells of Lon- 
 doD ! Unfortunate Sheridan! your race was short your 
 star was shorn of its beams in the very height of its splen 
 dor; when the world wanted you most, you had left it, 
 and none was found to fill your place. What a character 
 could you furnish from such an assemblage of raw nobility ! 
 Well might you look for higher applause than your in 
 comparable Rivals obtained, when you first brought it on 
 the stage at Coven t Garden. How truly could your "hero " 
 say, like Bob Acres, " Oh, Sir Lucius, I have had my an 
 cestors too, every one of them colonels and captains in the 
 militia, odds balls and barrels ! Say no more about that, 
 man. Odds blades! the villain has called me traitor to 
 my country, renegade, and upstart. I must be in a pas 
 sion, Sir Lucius, I must be in a rage ; yes, I shall fight 
 him ; sold my country for a bribe and a title ! Dear Sir 
 Lucius, let me be in a rage if you love me. Come, here s 
 pen and paper. How shall I begin ? Shall I begin with 
 an oath ? Do, Sir Lucius, let me begin with a damme, my 
 lord." With a countless herd of such spendthrift nobles and 
 aristocrats to support abroad, and an overgrown, bloated 
 church establishment to maintain at home, it might be 
 truly said in their own homely, but expressive language, 
 they were poor, broken-hearted creathurs. 
 
 The following copy of a letter, dropped by a union lord 
 in one of the hells of London, and afterwards published in 
 the Dublin Gazette, will give the reader some idea of the 
 7 
 
98 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 friendly relations then existing between landlords and 
 their Irish tenants. It was addressed to his agent in the 
 county Donegal : 
 
 * * * * "Confound them the ungrateful dogs my 
 tenants not relieve me from my embarrassments! Not 
 able ! how dare they have the audacity to say so ? Not 
 able, indeed! Well, let them live more economically 
 let them save the rent and pay it. I only ask them for 
 the rent a few months before it comes due, and they refuse. 
 Why do they not live on potatoes and salt, as the Irish do 
 in other parts of the country ? It s most excellent food 
 they should be thankful to have it. Curse them, do they 
 imagine I can live without money? There is still that 
 debt of honor unpaid to Lord Pillsbury. I cannot en 
 dure this trifling any longer. If the rent be not paid by 
 the 2d of November, I now direct, nay, command you, to 
 drive them (their cattle), eject them, grind them to the 
 dust. Am I to be disgraced my name dishonored on 
 their account? And who are they that I should hesitate 
 to screw from them the last farthing ? infamous papists, 
 savages, pagans, cross-worshippers were they not created 
 to be our slaves ? They should be grateful when we per 
 mit them to enjoy even the very breath of their nostrils 
 and yet some of them, you tell me, have been wondering 
 how we can spend so much money. Heavens ! what is 
 the world coming to, when our very tenants are beginning 
 to talk in this fashion. This is the effect of a free press, 
 and education of the masses. But why have we tenants 
 at all, if not to pay our debts, if we please to contract 
 them? If we choose to keep mistresses, and frequent 
 gambling-houses, what is that to them? There is Lord 
 Cunnin am, beside me down there. He has his mistress 
 to maintain, and his debts of honor to pay why do his 
 tenants not refuse to pay him even a whole half-year s 
 rent in advance ? Am I not a nobleman as well as he 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 99 
 
 a lord only of yesterday if you like but have I not owned 
 the estate before I obtained the title, and therefore are not 
 my rights of property the same ? He can afford to spend 
 more, perhaps, than I can. His mother was kind, and 
 George was liberal but that don t concern me. His 
 tenantry dare not whisper a syllable about his extrava 
 gance. Why should mine? Drive them drive them at 
 November eject them, leave them without house or 
 home, if they refuse to pay my rent." 
 
 The American reader will observe that we speak now 
 of the state of Ireland from the year 1816 to the story s 
 date always remembering, however, that it was every 
 year becoming worse. In 1822, by the failure of a single 
 crop, five eighths of the people were reduced to absolute 
 starvation. For six months in each of those two years the 
 towns and villages were crowded with people begging alms. 
 They seldom appeared till after sunset, that the blush of 
 shame might not be seen on their pallid faces, as they 
 stretched out their hands to ask relief for their suffering 
 children in the name of the God of charity. The writer of 
 these pages remembers well to have seen the long, white, 
 downy hair of hunger covering the cheeks of boys and girls 
 of tender age, as they came, in the dusk of the evening, to 
 seek relief. He remembers to have seen young men, 
 accompanied by their wives, with ragged cloaks muffled 
 closely round their faces to avoid recognition, and leaning 
 against the walls of houses in the villages for support, as 
 they slowly and stealthily staggered rather than walked in 
 pursuit of a morsel of food. But, reader, this is not all 
 let us cap the climax. 
 
 When England had robbed unfortunate Ireland of all 
 the little capital she accumulated during her years of 
 prosperity ; when in succeeding years she robbed her even 
 of her daily food, and left her starving; when the bread 
 that made the heart light and the arm daring, had been 
 
100 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 turned to stone, it was then, ay, then, reader, she permitted 
 a prince of the royal blood to let loose his Orange myrmi 
 dons on the people of Ireland, to bind in cords the prostrate 
 bodies of their victims. In the passing of the infamous 
 union, she had drawn away the very heart s blood of Ire 
 land her parliament was her seat of life, her principle 
 of vitality, from which the veins diverged and radiated, 
 carrying life, and health, and strength to the nation. But 
 that was not enough ; it was not sufficient that Ireland 
 fell weak and powerless at her feet, the object of her hate, 
 and the victim of her vengeance. No ; she had another 
 outrage to add to the category. When she saw her 
 bruised and bleeding victim at her feet, suing for mercy, 
 she struck her like a craven coward she struck her. It 
 was then she permitted the Orangemen of Ireland to sally 
 out under their august leader, the Duke of Cumberland, 
 like the Saracens on the plains of Palestine, after the battle 
 was ended, and tear the cross, the emblem of their religion, 
 from the nerveless arms that had so long guarded it from 
 insult. Yet the hoary-headed miscreant had loftier de 
 signs than the subjection of an idolatrous people. His 
 ambition was high and daring, and chivalrous, like that of 
 the rest of the royal family. To be sure : high, because it 
 was despotic daring, because it grasped at the necks of 
 millions and chivalrous, because treason to the empire 
 and barbarity to its subjects, were to have marked its prog 
 ress. Thus are the hereditary virtues of his race to be 
 explained in order to be estimated. This royal duke, we 
 are told, once contemplated the erection of a throne on the 
 banks of the Ganges, or the Hoogley, but the idea of a 
 Hindoo aristocracy scared him from the project. He next 
 raised his eyes to the throne of Britain, and found the 
 object exceeding agreeable and fascinating. But there 
 was caution to be used in laying his plans of operation. 
 There was vigilance necessary, to watch the spirit of the 
 times, and great care to be observed in influencing public 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 101 
 
 opinion in his favor. He accordingly organized a society 
 of Orangemen, at the head of which he placed himself 
 under the title of " Grand Master of the Orangemen of 
 Great Britain and Ireland." He declared himself the 
 royal champion of Protestantism, and proclaimed eternal 
 hostility to the Catholic people of Ireland. Not only the 
 lower order of Irish Protestants, but a great majority of 
 the land-owners and wealthy proprietors, were enrolled in 
 his ranks. Then, after a few years, the military became 
 gradually initiated in the mysteries of the compact ; regi 
 ment after regiment gave in their adhesion, till almost half 
 the standing army, and all the militia, were at his beck. 
 In fact, the country was on the eve of an insurrection ; 
 Ernest of Hanover would inevitably have placed, with his 
 own hands, the British crown upon his head, perhaps in a 
 few months more, had not the government suspected his 
 design, and despatched an order through the "Horse- 
 guards," suppressing Orange societies in the army. This 
 timely countermand saved the nation from the horrors of 
 a civil war, but did not entirely destroy the hopes of the 
 royal duke ; he still believed, if he succeeded in extin 
 guishing the Catholic religion in Ireland, he would yet be 
 come the idol of the empire, and thus mount up to the 
 throne on the shoulders of the English people. 
 
 The Orangemen of Ireland had bound themselves by 
 oath to follow wherever he chose to lead them. They 
 were united not only to him, but to each other, by solemn 
 oath and covenant of blood in a common bond of hatred 
 to everything even approaching to Catholicity. They 
 cared little, perhaps, for the duke s ambitious projects, 
 even if they had been made aware of them ; it was suffi 
 cient for them that, in forwarding his schemes, they were 
 permitted to indulge their undying revenge against the 
 Catholics of Ireland. The duke felt all this, and resolved 
 to act accordingly. He saw himself at the head of a pow 
 erful body of men (amounting, in 1822, to 125,000), and 
 
102 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 having no immediate occasion for their united services, he 
 pointed to the Papists of the North, as playthings to 
 amuse them in their hours of idleness ; or rather, as tar 
 gets on which they might practise, so that when the hour 
 should arrive for more serious encounters they would be 
 found a well-disciplined and highly accomplished army of 
 cavaliers. Thus the Catholics were completely in the 
 power of their enemies, without leaders, arms, money, or 
 other means to maintain an opposition. They found them 
 selves destitute of every succor a beggared race, a 
 starving people. They had submitted too long ; they had 
 bartered away their rights and liberties for reforms prom 
 ised, but never realized. They found themselves at last in 
 .the same position as the unfortunate Swiss, who made 
 every sacrifice to please France, and at the end were de 
 prived of their independence by that very nation the 
 nation whose friendship and protection they had so long 
 labored and suffered to secure. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 103 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE IRISHWOMAN AS SHE OUGHT TO BE. 
 
 ELLEN O DONNELL stood before the window, pensive 
 and melancholy, for some time after Dick had passed the 
 gate. She observed the solemnity of expression and de 
 termined look with which the Omedaun accompanied his 
 last words, and was probably thinking over the possibility 
 of his carrying his terrible resolution into effect. She 
 turned to communicate her fears to her companion, but 
 Miss Johnston had left the room. 
 
 The shades of evening were now coming rapidly over 
 the different objects in the apartment, as she sat down 
 near the window, resting her cheek upon her hand. The 
 gloom that deepened around seemed to be in accordance 
 with her thoughts. Doubtless she was then musing over 
 the fate of her unhappy country, for after a long silence, 
 during which her eyes were fixed unconsciously upon the 
 table against which she reclined, her hand sought her bo 
 som, and drew thence a small gold crucifix, of very curious 
 and antique workmanship ; and as her eyes fell upon the 
 figure of the Saviour crucified, she said in a tone of sorrow 
 ful satisfaction, " Emblem of the faith of our fathers, image 
 of truth and love divine, amid all our miseries we have 
 never deserted thee. I thank thee, my God," she con 
 tinued, raising her moistening eyes towards heaven, " I 
 thank thee, that amid the wreck of all our hopes and for 
 tunes, we have clung to thee still that if we have lost 
 our nationality, we have still preserved the faith." 
 
104 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 The heart of the beautiful girl had been saddened by 
 the affecting story of Mary Curran, related in his own 
 simple style by poor Dick. The name called up many 
 images of the past ; it led her back to the time when an 
 other gentle heart was crushed and broken, far away 
 "from her own loved island of sorrow." Her memory 
 wandered through that dark and dreary vista of years, and 
 not one single ray of sunshine could she find to dispel the 
 gloom. 
 
 But melancholy in a little time gave place to far differ 
 ent feelings. The enthusiasm of her country and her race, 
 unsubdued by all the stoicism and sophisticated manners 
 of the age, again resumed its dominion over her proud 
 spirit. She arose and placed herself before the harp, her 
 favorite instrument. She had carried it with her from the 
 shores of Italy, to wake its echoes once more in her na 
 tive land. 
 
 The memory of her fathers now rose up before her 
 the red spot on her neck, the " Baldearag " of the O Don- 
 nells, glowed and smarted as if conscious of the indignant 
 thoughts that burned within the blood mantled on her 
 cheeks, and the dark eye flashed, as throwing off the braid 
 that bound her throbbing temples, and gazing from the 
 window on the fading outline of her ancestral castle, now 
 in ruins before her, she swept the strings and sang in all 
 the wild luxury of her impassioned soul, the well-known 
 stanzas of her immortal fellow-countryman : 
 
 " Oh, for the swords of former time ! 
 Oh, for the men who bore them ! 
 When armed for right they stood sublime, 
 And tyrants crouched before them ! 
 
 " Oh, for the kings who flourished then ! 
 
 Oh, for the pomp that crowned them ! 
 When the hearts and the hands of free-born men 
 Were all the ramparts round them." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 105 
 
 She was suddenly interrupted as she commenced the 
 accompaniment to the next stanza. The door opened, and 
 a tall personage made his appearance. Ellen could not 
 recognize his features in the deep gloom of the apartment. 
 She arose quickly from before the instrument, and stood 
 for a moment like one who had been disturbed in some 
 rapturous reverie her fine form a little reclining against 
 the piano behind her the cross swinging for an instant 
 from side to side, and then resting on her bosom her 
 long, loose, dark tresses flowing gracefully over her shoul 
 ders, and her cheeks flushed to very crimson, like a sibyl 
 under the influence of her inspiring deity. Ellen was no 
 longer the gentle bashful girl ; she stood haughtily before 
 her unknown visitor, and looked like a pythoness gazing 
 on the man who dared thus without ceremony to check 
 the current of her sacred memories. 
 
 " Pardon a thousand pardons, Miss O Donnell, for 
 this interruption ; let me entreat you to continue pray 
 do not " 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Cantwell, I believe ! " ejaculated Ellen, and 
 her voice trembled as she spoke. The warm blood fled 
 rapidly from her cheeks, and her face became pale as mar 
 ble, as the voice made her conscious in whose presence 
 she stood. She determined, however, to suppress her in 
 dignation, and receive him as a visitor of the family. 
 
 " Pray be seated, Mr. Cantwell," she continued, sinking 
 as she spoke on &fauteuil at her side, " you have found me 
 quite unprepared for the honor of this visit." 
 
 " I regret, exceedingly, madam, that my entrance could 
 interrupt your pleasures for an instant. Indeed, when the 
 servant announced me, I was about to withdraw till the 
 end of the piece ; for I observed, notwithstanding he 
 spoke in a loud voice, you were still unconscious of my 
 presence absorbed, perhaps, by the sentiment of the 
 song is it not one of Moore s ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; one of his national melodies. Do you ad 
 mire his songs ? " 
 
106 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 Here a servant entered with lights. 
 
 " Oh, delighted with them ; all his songs and lyrics are 
 beautiful. Some of them, I think, inimitable ; but do you 
 not sometimes feel as if the spirit of nationality which per 
 vades them were too exclusive, too irrespective, if I may 
 say so, of English feeling and taste ? " 
 
 " On the contrary," replied Ellen, " I think he has in 
 jured himself seriously by the little respect he has shown, 
 in a few of his pieces, for English national and religious 
 prejudices. He should never have stooped to notice them 
 at all." ^ 
 
 And do you think it wrong to conciliate the English 
 people in favor of your country and its interests ? " 
 
 "Conciliate why, Mr. Cantwell, we have nothing to 
 do with conciliation. England has made us her enemies 
 by her tyranny and misrule ; it is her duty to conciliate 
 not ours." 
 
 " But would not conciliation, on your part, think you," 
 said Cantwell, smiling, " tend to better the social and po 
 litical condition of the country ? Would not the English 
 people be brought, by such a course, to entertain, for in 
 stance, a more favorable opinion of your religion, and 
 place it, perhaps, on a more equitable and surer footing?" 
 
 " Not at all; I believe conciliation would be useless and 
 unprofitable ; besides, if we are permitted the free exer 
 cise of our religion, we care not what opinion English or 
 Irish Protestants, be they in power or otherwise, may 
 form of us. That is of no moment whatever to us." 
 
 " Might it not have the effect of inducing Protestants 
 to join your church ? Would that not be a great advan 
 tage ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said Ellen, " an advantage ; but it would 
 be all theirs ; we could derive no advantage from their 
 conversion. The Catholic Church regards neither your 
 conversion as an honor nor your obstinacy in teaching 
 false doctrine as a matter for sorrow or regret, only mas- 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 107 
 
 much as your own eternal happiness is concerned. She 
 would not purchase the conversion of the King of Eng 
 land and all his court, by the obliteration of a single rubric 
 of her ritual." 
 
 Cant well felt considerably annoyed by the calm, com 
 posed, and somewhat careless manner in which Ellen 
 uttered the last sentence. She seemed to him, also, from 
 the tone of her voice, the slight curl of her lip as she ad 
 dressed him, and the indifference with which she exposed 
 the cross that hung suspended by a small gold chain from 
 her neck, to treat him with more contempt than she ever 
 did before. 
 
 " And you, would you not," he said at length, " con 
 sider it a great advantage to have such a convert as King 
 George, of England ? I think the Pope might cheerfully 
 give all the jewels in his tiara, and all the rubrics in his 
 ceremonial, to boot, to purchase such a convert." 
 
 " The Church of Rome would not abate a single genu 
 flection, to purchase all the heretical kings of the earth. 
 If they wish to become reconciled if they promise to be 
 come obedient children, instead of rebels to her authority, 
 she is willing and anxious to receive them : if not, she will 
 have none of them. She must receive them as children 
 as babes who ask instruction, not as masters who give it. 
 She will permit neither king nor beggar to make con 
 ditions for their allegiance to her sovereignty." 
 
 " Such an assumption of absolute control," observed 
 Cantwell, now smarting under Ellen s undisguised con 
 tempt for the paltry opinions he had been taught to en 
 tertain of the Catholic Church, " I was about to say such 
 despotism in religion, may do very well in Italy and other 
 Catholic countries of Europe, but it won t do here. The 
 light of truth has at length shone brightly on these 
 islands, after a long night of darkness. We sleep no 
 more." 
 
 " Sleep," reiterated Ellen, with evident emotion ; " yes, 
 
108 SHANDY M GUIRE, OK 
 
 you have slept the sleep you shall never know again ; you 
 have slept placidly in the bosom of a mother who loved 
 you as mother never loved before ; a mother that guarded 
 you from danger ; that watched over you amid your sor 
 rows and afflictions ; that nursed you, when a child, with 
 the sweetmeats of holy love, and would have attended you 
 to your grave with the same unfailing devotion. She was 
 a mother who was first to bless you as you entered the 
 world, and the last to leave you as you departed from it. 
 It was in her bosom you slept. All the return she asked 
 for this kindness, was obedience to her parental instruc 
 tions. Call you that despotism ? No, sir ; it w r as the un 
 restrained impetuous tide of human passions that carried 
 you away from her." Then, after a pause, she said, " And 
 after all, why should not religion be despotic, if you 
 love the term 5 are not all religions but the Protestant 
 despotic ? " 
 
 " Not as the Catholic religion is." 
 
 " Infinitely more ; was there ever a religion more des 
 potic than the Jewish ? the high-priest was the sole 
 authority in faith and discipline ; no one, even the most 
 learned, dare refuse obedience to his injunctions. Was 
 there ever anything more despotic than to oblige the Jews 
 to come from beyond the mountains of Judea, to worship 
 once a year in the temple of Jerusalem ? Is not Mahome- 
 tanism despotic ? Is not the religion of the Fakirs, the 
 Hindoos, the Bassas, despotic?" 
 
 " Granted," said Cantwell, smiling at the folly of intro 
 ducing pagan worship, as a proof of despotism in revealed 
 religion ; " but you will remember that you speak now of 
 infidels, not of Christians." 
 
 "Yes, I adduce them as examples, to prove to you how 
 necessary even they believed absolute authority to be, in 
 order to preserve a unity of belief and practice. Their 
 very instinct if I may so call it seems to be superior 
 to your sophisticated doctrine of liberty in religion. Lib- 
 
THICKS UPON TBAVELLERS. 109 
 
 erty in religion, Mr. Cantwell, is only another name for 
 Protestant infidelity." 
 
 " I regret, madam, your opinion of Protestantism is so 
 very unfavorable," said Cantwell, affecting at the same 
 time an indifferent air, and smiling as he spoke ; " I m 
 afraid we shall never agree on that subject." 
 
 " Whether or not, Mr. Cantwell, it s a matter of but lit 
 tle consequence to the Church or to society ; they know 
 little and care less, perhaps, what our opinions of religion 
 may be. But you have so often introduced subjects con 
 nected one way or other with religion, that I must now 
 candidly tell you, I am not at all fond of controversy, and 
 would rather decline conversing on such topics. Besides, 
 if I were desirous of discussing such important matters, it 
 would be only with those who endeavor to practise what 
 they profess ; for then, Mr. Cantwell, I would at least have 
 the satisfaction of knowing I was met neither by hypoc 
 risy nor dissimulation." 
 
 Cantwell s brow darkened for an instant, as he observed 
 the equivocal smile that played on the countenance of the 
 young lady, as she uttered these last words. He felt, in a 
 moment, she had discovered the cold-hearted villany he 
 practised on Mary Curran. But he was not the man to 
 appear crestfallen or confused in woman s presence. 
 
 "True, very true, Miss O Donnell," he replied, with a 
 little hesitation, "but men are mortals, you know; we are 
 not impeccable our faults and imperfections are beyond 
 number." 
 
 "Imperfections!" repeated Ellen, glancing at the agent ; 
 " oh, we have all our imperfections I did not mean that. 
 But, be it so," she added, " charity to the poor will atone 
 for many of these imperfections you charge yourself with. 
 Why do you not practise it more extensively?" 
 
 " If you mean corporal works of mercy," said Cantwell, 
 u we have done so to a very large extent." 
 
 " In this neighborhood ? " 
 
110 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 "Even so; but we meet with so much ingratitude, late 
 ly, that really we are becoming quite tired of the business. 
 The objects of charity are, for the most part, Catholics, 
 and they are so difficult of " 
 
 " Of conversion," added Ellen, laughing. 
 
 " No, not exactly ; but so untractable, that we can make 
 nothing of them." 
 
 " Oh, I understand you, Mr. Cantwell. But you have a 
 remedy, Catholics will be always untractable in your 
 hands. Get the priest to manage them. Give him the 
 distribution of your charity funds. He knows best the 
 dispositious and wants of his people." 
 
 " The priest ! " repeated Cantwell, with an affectation of 
 surprise : " oh, no, Miss O Donnell, you could not suppose 
 we would co-operate with a priest." 
 
 " And why not, sir ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don t know, exactly. Why, to be candid with 
 you, they are, in general, I believe, very uneducated men ; 
 and then " 
 
 " Uneducated ! and pray, Mr. Cantwell, how does that 
 happen? the Catholic Church expends more in educating 
 her clergy, than all the other churches of the world put 
 together. Her libraries are the most valuable in the uni 
 verse the nations under the spiritual guidance of her 
 pastors are the most polished and most learned on the 
 face of the globe. How then can her priests be illiter 
 ate ? " 
 
 " With such advantages, it would be difficult to tell," 
 said Cantwell, sneeringly. 
 
 "No, no," replied Ellen, now completely alive to the 
 interest of the subject; "no, it is very easy to tell why, 
 with all these advantages, you look upon priests as igno 
 rant men. They are ignorant, because they have not 
 learned to follow the fashions of the world like the minis 
 ters of the Anglican Church because, like your Single 
 tons and Cowpers of Belgrave Square, they have not 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. Ill 
 
 learned to pick up ladies fans, and talk fashionable scan 
 dal in drawing-rooms because they have not learned 
 to keep race-horses, powdered valets, and wear quizzing- 
 glasses. Of all these priests are ignorant ; and so far are 
 they unfit for the society of the age. But in so much, also, 
 are they superior in character to all other clergymen." 
 
 "I have been taught to form a very low estimate of the 
 character of Catholic priests ; but I am happy," added he, 
 bowing with an ill-concealed feeling of resentment, " I am 
 happy to find they have found in you, Miss O Donnell, so 
 able and accomplished an advocate." 
 
 Ellen failed not to perceive the bitterness with which 
 the words were accompanied, but she affected not to notice 
 it. From the beginning she was resolved to use no pre 
 caution to avoid irritating him. She even permitted her 
 self a latitude in expressing her opinions, which she might 
 regard perhaps as over bold in another. She was well 
 aware of the disregard he often expressed for her among 
 the circles of his acquaintance ; and that it arose not so 
 much from his hatred to her creed, as from a conviction 
 that her high and haughty spirit placed her far above the 
 reach of his artifice. In accordance, therefore, with these 
 thoughts passing rapidly through her mind, she affected 
 not to remark the sneer with which he acknowledged her 
 advocacy, but pursued the subject still further in the same 
 tone and manner. 
 
 "You say you have been taught to form but a low esti 
 mate of the character of Catholic priests and I know it. 
 But why do you not travel,* in order to judge for yourself 
 not depend on the interested stories of your ministers. 
 You should travel, sir, to see and feel the world around 
 you." 
 
 " And return," said Cantwell, laughing, " with my opin 
 ions still more confirmed." 
 
 " No; but return after having left all your coarse preju 
 dices behind you. Stay but three months in Italy, and 
 
112 SHANDY M GTJIRE, OR 
 
 when you return you will wonder, as many others have 
 done, that such a thing as Protestantism could ever have 
 existed. Then, as regards the Catholic clergy, you will be 
 astonished to find how vastly superior they are to the min 
 isters of the English Church." 
 
 " In what particular, may I ask, is this superiority so 
 manifest ? " 
 
 " Oh, in many in every respect, but perhaps in none so 
 remarkably as in their knowledge of revealed truths, and 
 their uniform practice of the duties of Christian charity. 
 But why should I go abroad for examples in this latter 
 respect? You will find Christian charity equally practised 
 at home. You have only to look around, and see the Cath 
 olic clergy of Ireland resigning all earthly comforts, the 
 better to promote the spiritual and even temporal welfare 
 of their poor people." 
 
 "Perhaps so but if we can judge from the evidence 
 of a most distinguished Catholic gentleman, given not long 
 ago before a high commission, these same priests, notwith 
 standing their spirit of abnegation, would gladly accept a 
 government pension." 
 
 "But you cannot judge from his evidence; he gave his 
 own opinion-, not their sentiments, and since then he has 
 been severely and justly reprimanded for his temerity. Oh, 
 no," continued Ellen, with more animation than she had 
 shown hitherto; " no, never, sir, I trust, will you see the 
 day when the Irish Catholic clergy will accept a state pen 
 sion from an English Protestant government." 
 
 " Ha ! " said Cantwell ; " and is it possible you can be 
 averse to such a measure ? " 
 
 "Decidedly so I abhor it ; for it is not a pension, but 
 a bribe you offer them." 
 
 " Really, Miss O Donnell, you appear to take an extraor 
 dinary interest in the affairs of Ireland and the Catholic 
 priests. You, who have made your home in foreign lands, 
 might well have forgotten these things; but I must not 
 quarrel with your patriotism." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 113 
 
 " I forget! " repeated Ellen, her eye moistening, and her 
 lip quivering with emotion as she spoke ; " oh, no, I can 
 never forget. My residence, it is true, is in another land, 
 but this, sir, is my home. I am still an Irish girl ay, 
 every feeling of ray heart is Irish. I am but an orphan, 
 too, the last of my race, thrown like a beggar on the 
 world s charity. Yes, rny ancestors have transmitted to 
 me only their misfortunes as my dowry ; but, thank God, 
 they have left me also some of the old family pride, to 
 bear them as it becomes my name and my rank a name 
 that I should ever regard as dishonored in my person if I 
 could for one moment forget the people and priests of 
 Ireland." 
 
 "Oh, I beg pardon," said Cantwell, in a supplicating 
 tone "excuse me: family recollections are sacred I 
 did not mean " 
 
 " Far too sacred indeed," replied Ellen, " for such a pres 
 ence. I speak not, sir, as the descendant of a kingly race. 
 I speak only and feel as every Irishwoman ought to feel. 
 And who have preserved and kept together the wretched 
 remnants of. the liberty of this once proud land ? The 
 priests of Ireland. When day after day you have been 
 driving the people to sedition, that you might have a 
 pretext for treading out the last spark of freedom that 
 remained, who stood between them and the danger, 
 who but the Catholic priests of Ireland ? " 
 
 " I cannot understand, Miss O Donnell ; you are really " 
 
 " Understand ! Mr. Cantwell," repeated the enthusiastic 
 girl. " You cannot understand how the clergy kept the 
 people from sedition ? Then I will tell you. It was by 
 teaching them obedience in the confessional^ when you 
 made it treason to preach it in the pulpit. It was by main 
 taining an influence over their flocks, for holy and peaceful 
 purposes. And that influence they acquired, sir, not by 
 gold or the sword, but by ministering to their wants of 
 both soul and body, by watching at the patient s bed 
 
114 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 amidst poverty and disease, by offering the consolations 
 of religion when often the poison of contagion was not 
 ing in their own veins, by journeying on foot, mid the 
 snows and storms of winter, to their wretched hovels, 
 by kneeling on the cold, damp floor beside the dying Chris 
 tian, whispering in his ear the words of comfort and hope ; 
 and when he had done the last office of his ministry - 
 nay, when he had closed the poor man s eyes in death 
 by sharing with the widow and the orphans his own miser 
 able pittance. Oh ! sir, it is through the power and influence 
 these self-sacrificing ministers of God have so dearly and 
 nobly earned, that we have yet some shadow of liberty 
 left. That, sir, is the Catholic religion, pure and uncon- 
 taminated by earthly thought as the God that gave it. 
 That, sir, is my religion the religion of the heart (and 
 she rose as she spoke), not cold, dreamy, and philosophical, 
 but warm, and full of life bubbling up from the fountain 
 of Divine love within. Yes, sir, that is my religion. I 
 learned it here on this soil, and care not what name you 
 give it." 
 
 Ellen rang the bell. When the servant entered, she de 
 sired he would request Miss Johnston to honor her with 
 her presence. 
 
 " You have been unusually animated this evening, mad 
 am," said Cantwell, not regarding the interruption, and 
 speaking in a low, subdued voice ; " and I admire your ad 
 vocacy in such a cause. But you will permit me to observe, 
 that in the warmth of your zeal you have quite overlooked 
 the extensive charity practised by the Protestant gentry 
 of this neighborhood. We have clothed and fed the poor 
 of this parish for the last two years, at a very considerable 
 expense." 
 
 " Oh, to be sure, sir," said Ellen, relapsing again into her 
 usually careless mood, and searching for something on the 
 mantel. " Certainly, you have dealt with the poor as you 
 would with the priests." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 115 
 
 " As we would with the priests ? " 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " I don t understand, Miss O Donnell." 
 
 " Oh, don t you ? Why, your wits are a wool-gathering 
 to-night. Well, then, I must enlighten you, Mr. Cantwell. 
 I meant that, as you clothed the poor as an inducement to 
 make them abandon the faith of their fathers, so would you 
 pension the priests as a bribe to make them desert the in 
 terests of their country. Eh, Mr. Cantwell, is it not so ? " 
 
 Cantwell was about to speak, but Ellen interrupted him. 
 
 "No, no, sir, I shall not ask your opinion on that 
 point ; I have already heard it sufficiently discussed at 
 Alton Towers. The old earl is a consummate statesman, 
 you know, and almost as stanch a Catholic as myself." 
 
 " I know nothing of him," said Cantwell, doggedly. 
 
 " Oh, of course not ; but Colonel Templeton does." 
 
 " Very likely," muttered Cantwell, suspecting at once 
 what she alluded to, but affecting to be totally unconcerned. 
 
 " Why, you surely must have heard of the caricatures? 
 she said, laughing. " The whole world has heard of the 
 colonel passing the river." 
 
 The door opened ^and Miss Johnston entered. 
 
 "Ellen, what have you been saying to Mr. Cantwell?" 
 asked the lady as she approached. " Why, he looks like a 
 rejected lover, so pensive and woe-begone ; and you you. 
 like a Belvidera, with your loose, dark tresses. What has 
 happened ? " 
 
 Oh, nothing," said Ellen, playfully. " I was in one of 
 my fits when he came in ; so, you know, he was obliged to 
 suffer as usual till it passed over." 
 
 " Oh, is that it ? " laughed her companion. " Don t mind 
 the mad, wild creature, Mr. Cantwell ; the poetry of Italy 
 and her own native enthusiasm together, have almost 
 made her crazy. We must tame her spirit in this colder 
 climate." 
 
 " Now, Mr. Cantwell, I shall leave Emily to entertain 
 
116 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 you," said Ellen. " You will find her, no doubt, a more 
 agreeable companion." And bowing lightly and gracefully, 
 she quitted the drawing-room. 
 
 Having passed through the spacious entrance-hall of the 
 mansion, and about to ascend the stairs to her boudoir, a 
 voice immediately behind whispered, " Signora." 
 
 She turned, and found her confidential servant, Mad- 
 delena, whom she brought with her from Florence, at her 
 side. 
 
 " Signora," whispered the Italian, " come, there is one in 
 that little room beyond who wishes very much to speak 
 with you." 
 
 " Is it a message from Captain O Brien ? " inquired Ellen, 
 following the servant across the hall. 
 
 " Oh, no," replied Maddelena, " I think it must be from 
 Father Domnick." 
 
 The room, at the door of which Ellen stopped for a 
 moment, was dark. 
 
 " Why are there no lights here, Maddelena ? " she in 
 quired. 
 
 But before the maid could reply, a voice from the centre 
 of the apartment said in a well-known accent, 
 
 " Whisht, whisht, Miss Ellen, come in an close the 
 doore afther ye." 
 
 . She entered without further hesitation, and found her 
 self in the presence of Shandy M Griiire. 
 
 It is unnecessary now to relate to the reader the con 
 versation that took place ; suffice it, for the present, that 
 after having been closeted for the space of ten or fifteen 
 minutes, both again appeared within the open door of the 
 dark room, and Shandy said, as he was about to steal out, 
 
 " Now, Miss Ellen, don t for yer life and sowl give him 
 the laste hint av it." 
 
 " Oh, trust me, Shandy, I shall take every precaution 
 but as to the ring, why that s utterly incredible. Villain 
 as he is, he surely could not " 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 117 
 
 " Well, well," said Shandy, interrupting her, " sure ye ll 
 jidge for yerself ; but don t tell a livin creather about it, 
 barrin the captain an Father Domnick ; an now God be 
 with ye, Miss Ellen, for I must hurry on to Tubbernasig- 
 gart." Shandy disappeared. 
 
 Ellen hastened to her boudoir, and having adjusted her 
 dishevelled hair as quickly as possible, returned to the 
 drawing-room, and found Cantwell preparing to take his 
 leave. 
 
 "Going so soon, Mr. Cantwell?" said Ellen, tripping 
 lightly across the room, and leaning her arm on Miss John 
 ston s shoulder : " to the Orange Lodge, perhaps ; is there 
 not to be a meeting of the committee there to-night ? " 
 
 " So I m informed," replied Cantwell ; " but I can t at 
 tend. I have some urgent business to manage before ten 
 o clock." 
 
 " To-night ! " inquired Ellen, with feigned surprise. 
 
 "This very night the business is both urgent and im 
 portant. I assure you, ladies (and he spoke with the seri 
 ous air of the official ), I assure you, the duties which we 
 agents have to perform are often very disagreeable very, 
 indeed ; think of being obliged to ride eight or ten miles 
 such a dark night." 
 
 Ellen fixed her eyes for an instant on the cold, dark, 
 hypocritical face of the agent. It was a look that at once 
 spoke unutterable contempt for the man, and a perfect 
 knowledge of his infamous designs. He raised his right 
 hand, and ran his fingers through his hair, but Ellen could 
 see no ring upon it. 
 
 " You will be caught in a storm, if you ride out to-night," 
 said Ellen, carelessly. 
 
 " Storm ! " ejaculated Cantwell. 
 
 " I really think so ; I may possibly be mistaken ; but it 
 would seem to me the storm is about to break over your 
 head." 
 
 " Why, Ellen, you cannot be serious," said Miss Johnston. 
 
118 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 " Time will tell ; I have just been looking out, and the 
 clouds are dark and lowering. But to-morrow will decide," 
 she added, playfully ; " then you will see whether I have 
 entirely forgotten the signs of approaching storm in my 
 native skies. If it do fall upon you, Mr. Cantwell, re 
 member the warning." 
 
 The gentleman took his leave, and returned to the 
 " Moor." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 119 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CONTAINING AN IRISH RECEIPT FOR COOLING THE BLOOD. 
 
 WE shall not stop now to inform the reader when Mr. 
 Cantwell left the Moor, but at once proceed with our story, 
 and that gentleman, to the humble homestead of old Jem- 
 mie Connor, of Tubbernasiggart. 
 
 Since his interview with the little blind man in the brown 
 overcoat, Cantwell turned over in his mind very often the 
 circumstances attending that meeting. But now, as he 
 rode quietly along in the silence of the night, and on the 
 most unfrequented road leading from the village, he had 
 more leisure to review them. There was, certainly, some 
 thing about the affair which a prudent, cautious man would 
 call suspicious sufficiently so, at least, to require care 
 and circumspection. But the truth is, Cantwell s grosser 
 passions carried him frequently beyond his prudence. If 
 he ever paused to consider the danger or the difficulties 
 into which his vicious inclinations led him, it was not with 
 the intention of avoiding them, but rather to fortify him 
 self with the consciousness of possessing means sufficient 
 to obviate them in any emergency. Like many others in 
 his sphere of life, he had, notwithstanding his apparent 
 disregard of public censure, a great dread of detection and 
 exposure, if he happened to be unsuccessful in his in 
 trigues ; but let him once gain his point, no matter at what 
 sacrifice of virtue or of honor, and he gloried in his victory, 
 like Courtall in the Belle s Stratagem. 
 
 In his convivial hours with his intimates, he spared no 
 
120 SHANDY M GUIBE, OR 
 
 woman s reputation high or low, rich or poor, innocent 
 or guilty, they were all alike in his estimation. Female 
 chastity, as he often expressed it, was a beautiful idea; 
 but then it was only an idea it had no actual existence. 
 Every mortal, according to him, was but the creature of 
 circumstances governed by impulses, weak or strong, as 
 nature happened to bestow them, and which it was a folly 
 or an impossibility to resist. Innate love of virtue was 
 but a deception. Conventional forms and manners of so 
 ciety gave it an existence only in the fancy. Man was 
 created for pleasure not for self-denial. To subjugate 
 his passions was an outrage against himself; but still, as 
 the decencies of social life deserved respect, it became a 
 matter of prudence and discretion to confine them within 
 certain limits, merely for the preservation of order in the 
 community, but with no higher aim. Certain acts were 
 called vicious, others virtuous, merely because the present 
 order of society required such a doctrine to be taught ; 
 but if chance had organized society in another form, it 
 might have happened that virtue and vice would have 
 changed their correlative significations. If, therefore, he 
 sinned against public morals and was detected, let the 
 public punish him for a breach of its rules, or its etiquette ; 
 but why should conscience, or whatever else it might be 
 called, be suffered to reproach him for his conduct ? 
 
 Religion, too, had certain duties, and he endeavored to 
 perform them to what he considered a reasonable extent. 
 Religion he thought a very excellent thing in its own way. 
 Without a due respect for its precepts, society would soon 
 be disorganized, and that would be a serious evil. It was 
 a powerful auxiliary to the laws. Without its" sanction, 
 laws would be ineffective of their aims and objects, and 
 his own authority incompetent to the discharge of his 
 office. Besides, to spend an hour or so at church on a 
 Sunday, was a very agreeable manner of whiling away 
 the time ; it was a kind of recreation a sort of relief 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 121 
 
 after the toil and trouble of the week. Nor had he the 
 least difficulty in finding a form of religion that suited him. 
 He had it at his hand. High-church Protestantism, in 
 which he was born, was quite sufficient for all practical 
 purposes. Stripped of the little asceticism that lingered 
 about it till the Revolution, it was now a pleasant religion 
 to profess. It had none of the acerbities of the Noncon 
 formists, or the self-denial of the Catholics, to scare him 
 from its adoption or its practice. As a dominant law- 
 religion, it gave him power to persecute its opponents. 
 Professing to hold a less rigorous code of morals, it re 
 quired him to restrain but few of his vicious propensities. 
 As a creed, it flattered him in the high estimate he had 
 formed of his intellectual powers ; it encouraged him in 
 the belief that he was at perfect liberty to choose any 
 doctrine of faith or rule of conduct, provided he could 
 squeeze out of the wide range of revelation a pretext for 
 its adoption. A religion like this presented, neither to his 
 mind nor his senses, a single difficulty. It required no 
 submission from the one, nor denial of gratification from 
 the other. Unencumbered by burden and unfettered by 
 restraint, he could travel at his own pace, fast or slow, up 
 and down the hill of life, just as fancy led him or impulse 
 drove him on. 
 
 Such, reader, was the doctrine, and such the sentiments 
 and feelings that actuated Mr. Archibald Cant well. He 
 was not alone, however, in his views of religion or his esti 
 mate of the human virtues. By no means. If he were, 
 we never should have dreamt of giving him a place in 
 your thoughts. No ; he was only one out of two thirds 
 of the English Protestants of Great Britain and Ireland, 
 from his own rank upwards. This is no exaggeration it 
 is fact a terrible, deplorable fact. It is the result of 
 men s pride in claiming a freedom in judging for them 
 selves in the important affair of religion. It is the natural 
 result of Protestantism. It is, in a word, the result of a 
 
122 SHANDY M GUIEE, OR 
 
 system of ethics conceived and developed under the influ 
 ence of the human passions. He who becomes acquainted 
 with life in London will readily acknowledge the truth of 
 all this. In the upper ranks he will discover a total disre 
 gard for religion and its most sacred ordinances hidden 
 under the veil of a prudent reserve or an ostentatious 
 charity. He will see the elegant and accomplished count 
 ess, after a night s dissipation, perhaps after having lost or 
 won a moderate fortune at the card-table, driving in a 
 splendid equipage to a religious society meeting, and 
 thence to the Virginia courts, Ded ham-place or St. Giles- 
 alleys to distribute consolation in the shape of tracts and 
 Bibles to the destitute, starving poor. He will find her 
 husband driving from Burlington Arcade with rich pres 
 ents to his dear friend in Hanover-square, and after spend 
 ing an hour in infamous dalliance, proceed to Lincolns- 
 Inn-Fields, and contribute his monthly donation to the 
 funds for the support of the Magdalen asylums. He will 
 see the infidel the scoffer of Christianity in Belgrave- 
 square become the champion of religion in Westmin 
 ster. In short, there is nothing there to be seen but a 
 continual endeavor to maintain an outward show of re 
 spect for the law of God, without a single feeling of re 
 morse for its secret violation. Still it may be said, that 
 low vice is as common in Catholic as in Protestant cities. 
 But it is not the fact, if we except the city of Paris alone. 
 Perhaps all the other Catholic cities of Europe put to 
 gether could not produce, as London does, the enormous 
 aggregate of 75,000 prostitutes and 60,000 street-robbers, 
 not to speak of any other item of its vices. And why 
 should Paris be an exception, only from its contiguity to 
 London ? The extraordinary disproportion that exists 
 between Paris and the other cities of Catholic Europe, in 
 their calendars of crime (allowing even for its excess of 
 population) is a sufficient proof that its proximity to Lon 
 don has been the cause of its immorality. Besides, in 
 
TEICKS UPON TKAVELLERS. 123 
 
 Catholic cities immorality is never the result of doubts 
 about the faith or precepts of God or of the church ; in 
 Protestant cities, if they be not the impelling, they are at 
 least the predisposing cause. A true Catholic can never 
 doubt, without losing the spirit of his religion ; a Protes 
 tant may and does, because it is his right and his privilege 
 to do so. A Catholic perseveres in crime through a feel 
 ing of reckless despair ; a Protestant through a hope of 
 selfjustification. If a Catholic remain a sinner after his 
 fall, it is because he has abused the holy sacraments of his 
 religion, and fears he can never make sufficient reparation ; 
 but the Protestant, who has no holy things to abuse, can 
 feel comparatively easy he has no horrors of conscience 
 to annoy him. Every step the Catholic takes through life, 
 God is about and around him : he sees him, face to face, 
 in all the mysteries and sacraments of his religion. The 
 Protestant sees him only at a distance, under the vague, 
 undefined shadows of revelation. Hence it is evident, 
 from this simple view of the general features of the Prot 
 estant and Catholic religions, that the former leads to 
 rationalism and infidelity, as a matter of course ; while 
 the latter takes an opposite direction as a matter of neces 
 sity, induced by the very nature of its conservative doc 
 trine and uniform practice. 
 
 But to return. Why was Cantwell not satisfied with 
 simply adhering to his own standard of religion? Why 
 did he suffer his religious opinions to influence his conduct 
 as a public man ? Why did he persecute others for their 
 religious opinions or practices ? The answer is very easy : 
 because, simply, they did believe and practise a severer 
 religion than his own. Precisely so. Was it not intoler 
 able to be obliged to hold intercourse with a people whose 
 lives were devoted to the performance of the most austere 
 duties of self-denial, so prominently enjoined in that very 
 Book which he chose as his guide ? Was it not mortify 
 ing to see himself surrounded by a people whose high 
 
124 SHANDY M GUIBE, OR 
 
 estimate of religion, and particularly of the social and 
 domestic virtues, was a continual reproach on the latitu- 
 dinarianism he had practised by a people whose horror 
 of immorality was a perpetual check on the impetuosity 
 of his passions ? Rather might it be said, why should he 
 not persecute such a people ? why not make every effort 
 to blot out the hateful contrast between vice in himself 
 and virtue in others, by lowering down every higher stan 
 dard of morality to a level with his own ? How else can 
 we account for persecution at his hands, and the millions 
 of others whom he represents, who care nothing for reli 
 gion of any kind Protestant more than Catholic only 
 in as much as the former is pleasanter to practise, and 
 more aristocratic to profess. The greater glory of God, 
 in whose existence they scarcely believe, or man s salva 
 tion, which they regard as a phantom, could be no object 
 of solicitude to them. Envy of a purer morality, not 
 hatred of false doctrine, is the impelling cause of Prot 
 estant persecution, at least in nine cases out of ten. Is it 
 not from a similar feeling that the detractor endeavors to 
 tarnish the reputation of his neighbor, and the murderer 
 on the scaffold becomes the accuser of his accomplice ? 
 
 By such sentiments were the mind and senses of Arch 
 ibald Cantwell influenced in his rounds of official and 
 social duties. Yet in the politer circles of life in which he 
 sometimes found himself, he knew well how to keep his 
 passions under restraint ; there he was the man of the 
 world; that is, in other words, neither a sinner nor a 
 saint, but one who assumed a reasonable share of both 
 qualities. He found this character the easiest to sustain 
 nothing could be more convenient. He could drop the 
 sinner and assume the saint, or vice versa, as circumstances 
 might require. But we have digressed. 
 
 Cantwell rode on in the direction of Tubbernasiggart, 
 at a moderate pace, for it wanted some twenty minutes of 
 the appointed hour, and he was now within a short dis- 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 125 
 
 tance of the mill. He dreaded detection, should he be 
 compelled to await long the appearance of Mary Connor, 
 and resolved, therefore, not to anticipate a single moment 
 of the time agreed upon. Again and again he thought 
 over the interview at the old castle. " Hudy M Gettigan," 
 he muttered to himself, " Hudy M Gettigan humph ! I 
 never heard of the man particularly. There are M Getti- 
 gans, I believe, on the other estate, but I don t know 
 them. Well, well he is easy found if he played me 
 false. And yet he was devilish like that scoundrel Shandy 
 M Guire, only for the impediment in his speech, and the 
 loss of the eye. But such a love-letter ha, ha ! such a 
 letter ! shoemaker s wax and a thimble devil a less. It 
 should be sent to the Dublin Museum, and kept with the 
 Queen Anne farthings, in the cabinet of curiosities. Oh ! 
 it would be such a lasting evidence of Irish female virtue. 
 Ill be at the mill at 10, not for any harm. Oh, not at 
 all no, no, of course not. Irish chastity excellent! 
 What a laugh I shall have when I meet Goodsoul, and tell 
 him what a fool she made of him, after all his cleverness 
 at intrigue. When I get among my own set, and pro 
 duce this letter of assignation, by George! they never will 
 survive the reading of it if we re to be married, if II be 
 afore the wurl. Capital ! But the priest will forgive her, 
 to be sure. She can afford now to pay him for absolution 
 for twelve months to come. That receipt is worth all the 
 papist chastity in the parish. Ha, ha, ha ! the father s 
 danger soon brought the daughter s honor to the market. 
 Honor ! oh, confound the less it is now, the devil s in 
 their impudence honor ! And there s Miss O Donnell 
 paugh ! her national pride sickens me she s as poor as 
 Job, and as proud as Lucifer. Her father, driven from the 
 country a beggar, goes over to Florence, becomes a 
 painter, and sends her back to us again, after a few years, 
 with all the family pride, from Ned of Larkfield up to 
 Hugh Roe, stuck in her gizzard ; and the haughty dame 
 
126 SHANDY M GULRE, OB, 
 
 frowned on me when I interrupted her music this evening, 
 as a sultana would on her slave. Never mind, I ll find 
 some means of taming her pride. Ha ! a storm would 
 burst over my head, she feared. How very solicitous about 
 me very, indeed." 
 
 Here his soliloquy was interrupted by a flash of light, 
 at apparently but a little distance before him. " Humph ! " 
 said he, drawing up the reins of the bridle, " that s a sig 
 nal, by George it is and from the mill too." He ac 
 cordingly dismounted and tied the horse in the corner of 
 a field at some distance from the road. 
 
 The night was now pitchy dark, and so still that not a 
 withered leaf rustled on the trees beside him. The light 
 again appeared for an instant. He saw it, and crept up 
 as stealthily as an assassin to the spot, muttering as he 
 went, " Ay, that s the signal now s the time, and here s 
 the man." 
 
 When he had reached within a few yards of the build 
 ing, he saw the light again appear in a female s hand, 
 through the aperture in the gable of the mill, where the 
 axle connects the inner with the outer wheel (the wheels 
 were removed to undergo some repair), and creeping 
 up sufficiently near to be heard, he said in a low, stealthy 
 voice, 
 
 " Mary, is it you ? " 
 
 " The password ! what s the password ? " whispered a 
 voice from within. 
 
 " Cupid," was the reply. 
 
 " Misther Archibal ? " 
 
 " Your own Archy." 
 
 " Oh, I m dyin for fear," said Mary. 
 
 " Fear nothing," said Cantwell, encouragingly. 
 
 " Oh ! am thrimblin , Mr. Archibal, am thrimblin with 
 fear." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " said Cantwell. " Can I get into the 
 mill?" 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 127 
 
 " Oh ! no, no," whispered Mary with earnestness. " No, 
 yet a minit. Stop, whisht ! there s some one comin . 6lo 
 back go back, Mr. Archibal, or we ll be ketched. Go 
 back there to the corner." 
 
 " Where ? " 
 
 " Behind where the wheel was." 
 
 " It s wet, but I ll try. Now see, is there any one com 
 ing?" 
 
 " Whisht ! I ll steal out an listen. Don t stir from that 
 for yer life," said Mary, as she stepped noiselessly back 
 into the building. 
 
 Cantwell had retreated from the aperture till his back 
 rested against the breastwork of the dam, and he stood 
 now bolt upright, like a soldier on drill. He had not, 
 however, been fixed in that position more than a few min 
 utes, shivering with cold (for the water in which he stood 
 was running ovej* his ankles), and equally as much with 
 fear, perhaps, at the danger of discovery, when he heard 
 Mary Connor again repeat the password directly above 
 where he stood. 
 
 "Cupid!" 
 
 Angel ! " 
 
 "Keep close, am afeerd some one ill see ye. Keep 
 close, for yer life." 
 
 " Never fear," said Cantwell, "my feet are cold and wet 
 but no matter." 
 
 " Whusper, Mr. Archibal." 
 
 What, my angel ? " 
 
 " Sure, ye ll niver spake i* this ?" 
 
 " Never never ! " 
 
 "Well, remimber ye promised." 
 
 " I would sooner die than speak of it." 
 
 " But you tould of Mary Curran, Mr. Archibal." 
 
 " Oh, Mary Curran ! but you know what she was." 
 
 " Well, well, Misther Archibal, I always thought she was 
 an innacint creathur, so I did, an that ye d clear her afore 
 the wurl." 
 
128 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 w I couldn t perjure myself, Mary, dear." 
 
 "An whusper, Mister Archibal. Didn t she die inna- 
 cint? every one says she did now tell me the thruth." 
 
 " Oh, I must not tell secrets, Mary ; you would hate me 
 if I did." 
 
 " She was a cousin i mine, Mr. Archibal, and I d lake 
 to be sure I d lake to hear it from yer own lips. Was 
 she innacint or guilty ? say, Mr. Archibal." 
 
 " Guilty," said the defamer of the dead. 
 
 "Lyin dog of a Sassenagh!" cried the high-spirited 
 girl. " She d scorn the deed, an now am here to avenge 
 her." 
 
 The first words had scarcely broken from her lips, when 
 she drew up the gate of the sluice, and the water rushed 
 down, sweeping the unfortunate Cantwell, with the im 
 petuosity of an Alpine torrent, tumbling and tossing into 
 the river below. An instant before the .sluice opened, he 
 felt he was betrayed, and attempted to leap on the rocks 
 above the water-course ; but it was too late. Then a wild, 
 deafening cheer rose from behind the mill, that almost 
 drowned the noise of the rushing water, accompanied by 
 a sudden glare of torch-light that revealed to half a dozen 
 of laughing faces on the river s brink, the gallant of the 
 night, the accomplished and aristocratic Archibald Cant- 
 well, holding on with the grasp of death to an arm of an old 
 tree that lay across the breast of the foaming flood. He 
 rose and sank as the branch yielded to his desperate efforts 
 to gain the opposite shore, his hat rolling down in the 
 stream, and his long, glossy, black hair floating on the 
 surface to and fro, like a mermaid s on her native ele 
 ment. 
 
 " Hould on ! hould on, my darling Cupid ! " shouted a 
 well-known voice ; " hould on mavourneen asthore. Shure 
 it s on beds of rosees ye ought to lie, instid i the cowld 
 wather." 
 
 " Oh ! for the love of heaven relieve me," cried Cant- 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 129 
 
 well, in an agony of despair. " Don t let me die in this 
 way. Oh oh ! " he ejaculated, as the water rushed, and 
 the branch bent with his efforts. 
 
 " Och, now, yer honor, Misther Archy, dear, don t be on- 
 aisy; shure here I am, yer own Hudy M Gettigan, an 
 Mary Connor, an ivery one that loves ye for a good, lib 
 eral, modest creathur, and a frien to the poor Catholics, 
 lake yer own father afore ye don t be onaisy, acushla, 
 don t asthore." 
 
 " Are ye Christians ? " shouted Cantwell ; " have ye no 
 mercy ? " 
 
 " Christians ! Oh, bad luck to the one dear ; we re all 
 only papishes, iver mother s son av us." 
 
 " Save my life ! save my life, for mercy s sake ! " ejacu 
 lated Cantwell, almost suffocated with the foam that had 
 gathered around his head. " Save me, for God s sake 
 I m sinking ! " 
 
 "Yer honor was right; ye wur sayin ye d want me 
 again so ye wur," continued Hudy, in the same impertur 
 bable tone of withering sarcasm; "and shure here I am, 
 yer own poor Hudy, as well known as a bad halfpenny. 
 But och, och, ochone ! isn t it myself has the sore, sore 
 heart this blissed night, seein ye there cowld an wet, an 
 can t be as much as the laste taste av sarvice to you, an 
 poor Mary Curran s ghost och, only jist think av that, 
 yer honor pray in to us this minit, I ll warrint, to help 
 ye in the amplish that yer in." 
 
 " Heave him a rope ! " thundered a commanding voice 
 from behind ; and instantly the tramp of men and the 
 clang of fire-arms were heard ringing on the bank beside 
 the laughing group. 
 
 "Captain O Brien! Captain O Brien! Put out the 
 lights and fly ! " was now heard on all sides. 
 
 " Men, guard the prisoners let not a light be extin 
 guished let none escape on your lives I command it ! " 
 9 
 
130 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 cried the young officer, considerably excited. " Bring a 
 rope a rope, or he s lost." 
 
 But the order was unnecessary. Mary Connor, whose 
 gentle heart could no longer entertain a feeling of revenge 
 against her enemy, now so signally punished, came running 
 breathless, carrying a line, and exclaiming as she ap 
 proached, 
 
 " Here here, take this one av ye take this and save 
 him. God may change his heart he may repent. But 
 what s this ? " continued the affrighted girl, suddenly chan 
 ging her voice when she perceived the officer and his men, 
 whose arms and breastplates shone brightly in the torch 
 light. " Oh, hierna ! it s the sodgers." And the timid 
 creature shrunk back fearful and ashamed in the presence 
 of the strangers. 
 
 " A girl, by Jove ! " said O Brien ; " there s mischief 
 here and Shandy too by all that s mischievous it is. 
 What, sir," he demanded, stepping over to the pretended 
 Hudy, now engaged in hauling Cantwell across the stream, 
 and laying his hand roughly on the collar of his coat. 
 " Why are you here, sir ? What s the meaning of this 
 outrage?" 
 
 " Outrage ! " repeated Shandy, lifting his hat to the 
 officer with one hand, while he held the line with the 
 other. " Ough no, captain ! it s not that bad ; it s only a 
 raceipt for coolin the blood." 
 
 " But what s the meaning of this villany ? answer me, 
 sir," again demanded O Brien. 
 
 " Ough ! nothin out i the way, yer honor ; only a thrifle 
 av sport it s a way we have down here." 
 
 " But who is he ? speak, villain ! " 
 
 "Begorra, myself disn t know yit," persisted Shandy, 
 without betraying the least visible emotion, and pulling 
 with as much unconcern as if a log of timber were attached 
 to the line. " Begorra, myself disn t know yit, till we land 
 him, whether he s a salmon or a yub-dugh (black trout). 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 131 
 
 Ned," continued he, addressing a comrade; "Ned avic, 
 give the captain a gaff, till he helps to land the creathur 
 dacently." And Cantwell at length was drawn ashore in 
 sensible. 
 
 "Will we rowl the wather out iv him, yer honor?" in 
 quired Shandy, looking up in the face of the officer with a 
 countenance as grave and solemn as Sir Robert Inglis, 
 before the University. 
 
 "Hold!" cried O Brien, stooping over the exhausted 
 Cantwell, now stretched at his full length in the centre of a 
 circle of grinning faces, and turning his head to a horizon 
 tal position. " Hold ! bring the light nearer. Who is he ? 
 What powers of earth ! it s Cantwell ! Cantwell, 
 by all that s horrible! How is this, sir? answer me, 
 M Guire villain ! answer me directly." 
 
 " Tare-an-ages, yer honor shure it was fishin he came, 
 an fell in." 
 
 " Fishing ! ye scoundrel." 
 
 "Deil a hap orth else, captain; begorra ill take my oath 
 av it." . 
 
 " Angling, ye villain, at night, and such a dark nteht as 
 this?" 
 
 " To be sure ; faith, the fish he wants ketches best in the 
 dark." 
 
 The captain collared him, enraged at not receiving a 
 direct answer to his oft-repeated question ; but Shandy s 
 tone and manner were still the same. 
 
 " Bad scran to the word lie am tellin ye, captain," he 
 continued. "It was fishin he was, an the throut tuck the 
 bait unknownst to him some way, an pulled him in ; may 
 I be Lord Chancellor, if it isn t as thrue as am-teHm it. 
 The throut pulled him in while ye d wink. The throuts 
 hereabouts have the quarest ways with them they re the 
 divilishest throuts that iver " 
 
 " Silence, you villain ! " shouted O Brien, driving the im 
 perturbable Shandy out of the circle with a violence that 
 
132 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 threatened to immerse him also in the river. "It s hanged 
 you ll be yet for your damnable tricks you re never out 
 of mischief." 
 
 "Hanged! "repeated Shandy, returning again and mixing 
 with the excited group. "Hanged ! oh, feen a bit fear av it, 
 captain dear; the M Guires niver were given to them high 
 airs : it disn t shute them these hard times. But listen to 
 me whusper a minit, Mr. O Brien." And he took the 
 officer aside, and communicated, in as few words as possi 
 ble, the cause of the unlucky adventure. When the officer 
 found how matters stood, he burst into an uncontrollable 
 fit of laughter. 
 
 " Sergeant," said he, " release the prisoners, and move 
 homewards I shall follow you in a moment." 
 
 When Cantwell recovered his senses, he raised himself 
 to a sitting posture, rubbed his eyes like one just starting 
 from a sound sleep, and looked about him in extreme be 
 wilderment. But there was no one to be seen all was 
 still as death not a sound came to break the lonely si 
 lence: even the sluice had ceased to send forth its noisy 
 tide. He started to his feet, raised his hand to feel for his 
 hat ; but it was gone. As he stood erect for an instant 
 within the circle formed by the torches dying embers, the 
 sickly lurid lights seemed to concentrate their feeble rays 
 upon the face of the libertine, as if to give his hidden 
 spectators a view of his demoniac countenance, now work 
 ing under the influence of rage and revengeful passions. 
 
 " Damnation ! " he muttered at length, grinding his teeth 
 as he hurried from the place. 
 
 " Saxon dogs ! " said a deep-toned voice, almost in his 
 very ear as he passed on. " Begone, and remember the 
 lesson the Irish peasant-girl has taught you." 
 
 Cantwell stopped for an instant, listened as if he wished 
 to discover the speaker, then dashed forward, and was 
 soon out of sight. 
 
 But misfortunes never come single, they say. His horse, 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 133 
 
 disposed to await the return of his master with patience and 
 resignation, had bent his head like a sensible, well-behaved 
 animal, and began picking the long grass about the roots of 
 the tree to which he was fastened. All of a sudden, how 
 ever, his quiet thoughts were disturbed, and his patience 
 put to a far severer trial than ever it was exposed to before. 
 Indeed, the shouts, the cheers, the rush of water, and the 
 rapid moving of the blazing torches, would have startled 
 animals of far higher pretensions to calmness of temper 
 than his had ever been. So he broke the reins of the 
 bridle, and galloped homewards. His master, therefore, 
 was obliged to follow him in the best manner he could, 
 reconciled to his loss, no doubt, by the salutary reflection, 
 that wet garments were both injurious to health and very 
 disagreeable on horseback. 
 
134 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE OKANGE LODGE. 
 
 WHILE the incidents related in the last chapter were 
 occurring in the country, matters of no less interest were 
 taking place in the town of Donegal. 
 
 The committee of Orange Lodge No. 516 and district 
 143 met, according to previous arrangements, in the afore 
 said town, on the fair-night, being the 26th day of Octo 
 ber, 182-. The object of the meeting was to take into 
 consideration the propriety of sending petitions to parlia 
 ment, signed by the Orangemen of Ulster, praying that no 
 further concessions be made to Roman Catholics ; that the 
 annual grant of .8,900 to the College of Maynooth be 
 discontinued, agreeably to motion made in preceding ses 
 sion by the honorable member for the University of Ox 
 ford; and finally, that the oaths of supremacy and abjura 
 tion be extended to all persons holding responsible offices 
 under corporate bodies, when the salary of said offices 
 should amount to the sum of thirty pounds sterling. Also 
 to prepare resolutions condemnatory of the conduct of cer 
 tain brethren in Belfast and Portadown, who had treach 
 erously given their support, at the recent general election, 
 to reform candidates, and declaring such brethren unde 
 serving of confidence. 
 
 The Rev. Baxter Cantwell, district-master and chaplain 
 of the lodge, having transacted the more important busi 
 ness of the meeting, and after solemn prayer, closed the 
 minute-book for the night, led the way to the festive- 
 board, and took his usual place as chairman. 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 135 
 
 On the right of the chairman sat Mr. Thomas Liscaden, 
 a very pious, church-going, pert, curt, fat, middle-aged gen 
 tleman, presenting a snub nose, and a very apoplectic 
 appearance. He was senior churchwarden, and treasurer 
 of the Sabbath penny collections for the destitute poor, a 
 teacher in the Sunday-schools, and an invererate enemy of 
 Catholics, especially of the Pope. 
 
 On his left sat Robert Snodgrass, Esq., apothecary and 
 surgeon of the village. He was a very elegant, ladylike 
 personage, or what is commonly understood to be a " nice 
 young man." His fair hair was kept always in perfect order 
 brushed flat down, and sleek as an otter s not a single 
 hair but had its proper location, from which it was never 
 permitted to stray. He was tall, very delicately pro 
 portioned, and as modest as a girl of sixteen. Whether 
 sitting or standing, he was ever prim, stiff, bolt upright as 
 a portrait of the reign of Elizabeth. Snodgrass, in very 
 deed, was an exquisite both in mind and person ; he could 
 spend hours drawing pansies and butterflies for the ladies, 
 sang " Love among the Roses," wore an eyeglass, lisped 
 compliments, and talked, and leered, and sighed divinely. 
 
 The third and last member of that respectable com 
 mittee, to whom the reader requires an introduction, was 
 the gentleman who sat next Mr. Snodgrass, on the left of 
 the chairman. He was a gentleman whom it would be 
 criminal and ungrateful in the writer of this veracious 
 story to pass over in silence. The deeds of daring he per 
 formed in these troublous times, his devotion to the 
 sacred cause, the sacrifices he made to maintain the 
 glory of Protestant ascendency, should not easily be for 
 gotten, least of all by one who spent so many pleasant 
 hours in his society, listening to his stormy bursts of elo 
 quent denunciation, gazing on his proud, indignant brow 
 as it looked thunder, and his flaring eye as it spoke light 
 ning, on the villanous papists and Ribbon conspirators of 
 that period. This gentleman s name was Dowser, com- 
 
136 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 monly called " Dumpy Dowser, or Dowser the Dumplin," 
 perhaps from a fancied likeness his enemies (every one has 
 his enemies) said he bore to that substantial article of 
 food, as it appears engraved in Mrs. Hall s Domestic 
 Economy. His limbs were unusually large, very short, and 
 cumbrous his knees, whilst he stood, scarcely appearing 
 in the background, but when he sat down, they shot out 
 like rule-joints, connecting the upper man immediately 
 with the nether limbs, and presenting to the fancy a 
 figure of two short Gothic columns supporting an idol of 
 Juggernaut. 
 
 Poor Dowser, not many years previous to this meeting, 
 was a quiet, sober, peaceable man, as ever carried a Bible 
 to church, or sang psalms to the measures of Lord Teign- 
 mouth or Dr. Porteus ; and in all probability would have 
 remained so, moving leisurely and piously through the 
 vicissitudes of life, never dreaming, like Arthur Welles- 
 ley, that his country would yet be proud to do him rever 
 ence. Simple-hearted man ! he might have drooped his 
 head and died, like the bashful, unassuming little buttercup 
 on his own native soil, instead of the streets of Bristol, 
 fighting for the royal cause, had chance not called him to 
 see with his own eyes, and hear with his own ears, the 
 champions of Protestantism in the London Tavern. Oh, 
 William III. ! Oh, Burnet, Swartz, Tennison ! ye origina 
 tors and abettors of the charter of 1701, for spiritualizing 
 the gross and morbid feelings of the human race! how 
 elevating to the soul of Dumpy Dowser to hear your pane 
 gyrics breaking from the eloquent and impassioned lips of 
 a Hughs and a Thomas and in that hall, too, consecrated 
 to the genius of religious liberty ! In that hall Dowser 
 had once the good fortune to find himself on a memorable 
 occasion, when Verner occupied the tribune and Hawkes- 
 bury the chair. That once was enough : Dowser returned 
 home a changed man and oh, what a change ! Mrs. 
 Dowser, poor soul, had been long and anxiously expecting 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 137 
 
 him, for never had he been away so long before. But 
 when he did at length arrive, what was her surprise and 
 disappointment when, on the following morning, instead 
 of the silks and brocades, the jewels and embroidery so 
 confidently looked for as the gifts of a loving husband, she 
 found nothing in the great travelling-trunk but swords and 
 pistols, Orange-flags and scarfs, pictures of King William, 
 controversial tracts, bullet-moulds, and duodecimo Bibles ! 
 The writer fancies he still sees that amiable lady sitting 
 in her easy-chair, knitting her stocking, and musing, as she 
 plied her needles, over the many ills of wedded life, when 
 he called to congratulate her on her husband s safe return. 
 
 O 
 
 How care-worn she looked when describing the awful 
 change in Mr. Dowser! how she seemed to mourn "the 
 hopes that left her," so long centred in him ! " Alas ! " 
 she said, " the happy smile is gone from his sweet counte 
 nance, and the cheering sympathy from his loving heart. 
 Instead of taking his tea hot, as he used to do, with his 
 nicely-buttered toast, he leaves it there to cool, and marches 
 through the room, brandishing his new sword, and cutting 
 holes with it in our new carpet, and shouting -v oh ! dear 
 friend shouting like one demented, No surrender! 
 down with the bloody papists! to the naughty place 
 with the Pope ! and and a thousand other terrible 
 things. But look here," she continued, " see that old fam 
 ily painting, it is one of my ancestors, unfortunately a 
 Catholic, and observe, he has riddled it with pistol-bul 
 lets. Oh! I m a broken-hearted woman but see there 
 the pieces of slate lying scattered on the hearth ; it was 
 little John s slate; and because the child was making 
 crosses on it, playing * fox and geese with his sister this 
 morning, he broke it in a hundred pieces; and look here 
 he says I must wear this Orange-scarf every Sabbath to 
 church, and have the green paint on the walls covered 
 over with blue. Oh ! if he had never gone to London, I 
 would still be happy. He would not be making mad 
 
138 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 speeches, as he does now, after dinner, and no creature to 
 listen to him but his wife and his two little children mad 
 speeches about King William, and drinking, in every 
 spoonful of his punch, the glorious, pious, and immortal 
 memory. " But to resume. 
 
 The Rev. Baxter did the honors with a very pleased, 
 self-satisfied air. He drank wine with every member of 
 the committee, and gave the charter-toast at least a dozen 
 times that night amidst raptures of applause. 
 
 " It s a glorious night," said Dowser, after finishing his 
 sixth tumbler of poteen punch (he never tasted wine 
 he despised it). "It s a glorious night; but what is it to 
 a night in London ! Oh, thundher ! if yer reverence was 
 there." And he spoke like a voice proceeding from an 
 empty barrel, hoarse and hollow, and in very short, pithy 
 sentences, being, as the reader may have already supposed, 
 short-winded. 
 
 " Clever men noble fellows ! " observed the chairman, 
 approvingly. 
 
 " Clever noble ! " ejaculated Dowser. " Look here, yer 
 reverence. See, they put a new soul in me I trembled 
 when I heard them I did I felt a kind of dinling all 
 over me my courage riz in me oh, thunder-an-turf ! 
 to hear Colonel Verner, and see Boyton lifting his tre 
 mendous fist, and shaking it at the bloody papists. Hilloa 
 there below!" he added, "send up the decanter one 
 bumper more to Verner. Hip, hip, hurrah ! Verner 
 forever ! " 
 
 It was now approaching ten o clock, the usual hour for 
 the chairman s leave-taking ; he therefore begged his con 
 vives to fill again, and gave in glowing terms the health 
 and happiness of their worthy brother, Doctor Snodgrass. 
 Doctor Snodgrass arose to return thanks; not, however, 
 till he ran his hand leisurely over his hair, and found all 
 his fair locks in their proper places, pulled up his shirt- 
 collar, and wiped his lips with a snow-white handkerchief. 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 139 
 
 He smiled as he raised his delicate body to the perpen 
 dicular, looked around with complacency, and began his 
 address. 
 
 "Mr. Chairman and gentlemen brethren mine," said 
 he. " (Hem) J return you my best (heni) my most 
 heartfelt thanks (laying his hand on his heart). I have 
 never, gentlemen (hem) unaccustomed as I am (hem) 
 that is, gentlemen, I mean I have never been in the 
 company of gentlemen (hem) " 
 
 " Ton my conscience, that s no lie, any way," muttered 
 Dowser, in a stage-whisper ; for he hated and despised the 
 speaker most cordially. 
 
 Snodgrass affected not to hear the words, but neverthe 
 less got so embarrassed that he felt he could not utter 
 another syllable. "Gentlemen," said he, endeavoring to 
 make an honorable retreat from his disagreeable position, 
 " as I cannot do justice to my feelings in a speech, I will 
 try what I can do in the musical way ; I ll substitute a 
 song with your favor." And saying this, he resumed his 
 seat amidst cries of " Song ! song ! Mr. Snodgrass s 
 song ! " in true bacchanalian uproariousness. 
 
 As soon as silence was obtained, the doctor leaned back 
 in his chair, clasped his hands before him, resting them on 
 the edge of the table ; and fixing his eyes in melting soft 
 ness on the ceiling above, he sang, with all the languishing, 
 melancholy tone and manner of Tilburina in the Critic, 
 
 Oh ye pansies, and ye roses, and ye daffodils so fair, 
 
 How I love t inhale the perfume of your odors breathing there ! 
 
 But oh, my love my Josephi-i-ine, (shake.) 
 
 " Augh! bad luck to yer Josephine and your daffodils!" 
 roared Dowser, no longer able to restrain himself. " We 
 didn t come here to be sickened with your perfumes 
 damn it, man, perfume us with punch, if ye like, and give 
 us a no-surrender song ! the curse i the crows light on 
 yer roses and pansies." 
 
140 6HANDY M GTJIRE, OR 
 
 "Mr. Dowser Mr. Dowser! what means this?" said 
 the chairman, reprovingly. 
 
 "My dear reverend sir," entreated Snodgrass, with a 
 meagre attempt at a smile, and looking beseechingly at 
 the rector, "do not oh, pray do not interfere you 
 know what he is ! " 
 
 " Know what I am ! " repeated Dowser, stung to mad 
 ness at what he believed to be an insult, and starting to 
 his feet as he spoke. " Know what I am ! " he reiterated, 
 looking swords and daggers at his victim. " Yes, sir, I 
 know what I am, and whom I came from what many a 
 one that carries that carries a high head, sir, doesn t 
 know. Yes, sir I m a gentleman, sir and what s more, 
 sir I have property, sir I have a stake here, sir (strik 
 ing his ponderous thigh with his open hand), I have a 
 stake in the country, sir, what you haven t." Here the 
 laugh became so loud and long, that Dowser, after re 
 peated attempts to obtain a hearing, sat down completely 
 exhausted. . 
 
 Snodgrass, amid the noise and confusion, kept his hand 
 kerchief pressed to his mouth, his eyes cast down, and his 
 person immovable as if he had been riveted to the chair. 
 He was brooding over the melancholy fate of his favorite 
 ditty, and making sturdy resolutions never more to sit in 
 the same house, much less at the same board with Dumpy 
 Dowser. But Snodgrass had often made similar resolu 
 tions, which he was induced, by the advice of the Rev. 
 Baxter, as often to abandon. The truth is, he frequently 
 experienced the hatred and contempt of his noisy brother 
 very sensibly, because he had not the spirit to resent an 
 insult, or perhaps valued his reputation too high to com 
 mit himself with such an antagonist. Dowser knew this, 
 and took advantage of his pusillanimity on every possible 
 occasion to act the bully. " He deemed it reproachful," as 
 he often said, " to the Orangemen of the Donegal lodge, 
 to have such a creature acknowledged as a loyal brother, 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 141 
 
 and personally insulting to himself besides, to have such a 
 fellow take precedence in their assemblies ; indeed, he felt 
 himself compelled, as a man of nice sensibilities, to pro 
 tect his own honor by showing, on every opportunity that 
 presented itself, how very far he was above submitting to 
 be regarded as an inferior, or even as the equal, of Mr. Sur 
 geon Apothecary Snodgrass." So much was the latter 
 harassed by these continual attacks, that, of late days, his 
 dread of Dowser became excessively annoying ; in fact, he 
 began to entertain serious fears that his enemy might end, 
 some time or other, when his blood was up, by an attempt 
 on his person, perhaps his life. It remains to be seen 
 whether he had any reason to think this apprehension un 
 founded. 
 
 " I have now," said the chairman, when the noise had 
 somewhat subsided, " I have now, gentlemen, the pleasure 
 
 the high gratification of giving you Mr. Dowser s health 
 
 a man ever foremost in the good cause, ready at all 
 times to sacrifice his fortune, yea, and his life if needed, to 
 advance the interests of our holy confederation, and main 
 tain the rights we have so nobly earned by our glorious 
 revolution. I give you, gentlemen, without further pref 
 ace, the health and happiness of our worthy and respected 
 brother, Mr. W. Dowser, and long may he live amongst us." 
 
 Then were heard the shouts of " Dowser forever ! our 
 brave Dowser ! long live Dowser ! " The empty glasses 
 leaped and danced quadrilles on the table, spoons flew 
 from their tumblers in ecstasies, and the very windows of 
 the apartment jingled their applause. 
 
 "Mr. Chairman and gentlemen," said the lion of the 
 night (the muscles of his face quivering with emotion, and 
 his cheeks swelling like Eolus preparing for a storm). 
 " Gentlemen, I am a man who can thank you. And why ? 
 because I have a heart to do it (here he struck the ta 
 ble with his ponderous fist), because, gentlemen, I have 
 a soul in me yes, a soul that fears no man a soul, 
 
142 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 gentlemen, that s ready to die for the cause, and for the 
 whole of you. Oh ! when I look at that at that glori 
 ous flag over his reverence s head when I look at the 
 orange and blue that we wear when I look at them, 
 your reverence when I do, I m not myself I m not, 
 
 I m a Sampson I m a Goliah (tremendous cheering). 
 When I look at them, and think of them, I could sweep 
 
 sweep the heads of all the papist Ribbonmen " Here 
 the orator became altogether uncontrollable ; and suiting 
 the action to the word, he swept not the heads of his 
 enemies but the contents of a steaming pitcher that lay 
 peaceably on the table, right on the person of the unfor 
 tunate Snodgrass, moody and melancholy at his side. 
 
 The discharge of a whole galvanic battery into a dead 
 rabbit could not produce a more instantaneous effect. 
 With the elasticity of an India-rubber ball, he bounced 
 from his seat, emitting an awful scream, and fell back upon 
 the floor. 
 
 " Stand back ! " cried the chairman. " He s ruined for 
 ever ! " 
 
 " Oh oh ! " cried Snodgrass. " I knew he d murder 
 me. I m burned to death I m burned to death !" 
 
 " Thunder thunder ! " roared Dowser. " What s this ? 
 
 I didn t think I m very sorry where s the cold 
 water? push it over here, Wilson." And taking an 
 other pitcher of that cooling liniment in both hands 
 (thinking it, in the confusion of his ideas, to be at that 
 moment the best and speediest relief), he turned to heave 
 it on the scalded man, when the chair tripped him, assisted 
 no doubt by six or eight tumblers of stout Innishowen, 
 and he fell, pitcher and man, on the prostrate body of the 
 unfortunate doctor. 
 
 When Snodgrass received the shock, or rather the thud, 
 from the avalanche of human flesh, he groaned like a 
 man in his last agony, as much as to say, " It s all over 
 my time has come at last ; " but in a moment after, 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 143 
 
 feeling a consciousness of life within him still, and making 
 an instinctive effort to preserve it, he caught Dowser by 
 the gorge, and struggled, twisting as an eel does to escape 
 from under a rock, till he finally crept up on the huge body 
 of his antagonist, with the determination, doubtless, of 
 strangling him, now that he lay so completely at his mer 
 cy. A lucky incident, however, saved his life, and gave 
 quite a new interest to the scene. 
 
 Scarcely had Dowser fallen, when the door of the apart 
 ment opened violently, and a stranger entered crying, 
 " The Ribbonmen ! the Ribbonmen ! they re comin ! 
 they re comin ! the sodgers are gone, an we re all mur- 
 dhered!" 
 
 The reverend chairman and the other disengaged mem 
 bers of the committee profited by the warning by rushing 
 precipitously from the room, resolved to save their own 
 lives at all events, and let fortune decide the fate of the 
 mortal combatants. This will account in some measure 
 for the somewhat protracted embraces of the brethren on 
 the floor. 
 
 As Snodgrass gained the summit of the Dumplin, and 
 had inserted his long wiry fingers in the folds of his cravat, 
 the cry was again repeated, and Dowser was saved. Snod- 
 grass unloosed his hold, started to his feet, and ran with 
 the speed of a greyhound. 
 
 Dowser, also, after much puffing and blowing, got on his 
 pedestals, upsetting the table in his desperate efforts ; and 
 with his arras stretched out before him, his eyes starting 
 from their sockets in his eagerness to escape, waddled and 
 staggered furiously from the room. When he reached the 
 bottom of the stairs he called lustily for his gray horse, 
 King William. The animal was in the gateway of the 
 hotel, ready for his master to mount, and thither he direct 
 ed his course, driving the bystanders from side to side, and 
 forcing a passage for his immense body with the impetuos 
 ity of a tornado. 
 
144 SHANDY M^GUIRE, OR 
 
 " That s right, my boys," he endeavored to articulate, his 
 breath almost exhausted. "That s right hold the horse 
 steady now help me to mount now, ye scoundrels, 
 help me the villanous papists the cut-throats they 
 came to murder us are they coming ? look ! are they 
 coming ? now give me the reins ha ! I ll soon be out 
 of their power." 
 
 Hardly had Dowser rode ten paces from the gateway 
 when a man vaulted on King William s back behind him, 
 took the reins from his hands, and turned the horse down 
 a back lane, heading at a full gallop directly for the country. 
 
 " Not a word," said the same voice that scattered the 
 revellers from their orgies in the lodge. " Keep quate an 
 easy, or I ll fling ye on the pavement. It s only the loan 
 av ye we re takin till we see young Frank Devlin again." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 145 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE SICK-CALL. 
 
 "!T S a wondher," said Mary Connor (after the little 
 party had returned from the mill, and were seating them 
 selves round the kitchen fire), " it s a great wondher what s 
 keepin Frank ; he ought to be here afore this." 
 
 "Niver fret, woman dear," replied Shandy. "Maybe 
 it s glad ye d be he niver came, afore yer a year married. 
 Get us Jamie s pipe, till we take a draw afther that trifle i 
 bisness ; " and he seated himself snugly on the creepie. 
 
 "Well, Shandy," observed old Jamie, "I m doubtin we ll 
 be after payin dear for this night s sport yit." 
 
 " Hooh, man ! niver buy yer coffin till yer ready for t. 
 The young gentleman ill keep clear av ye, I ll warrint 
 troth will he, Jamie : he s above makin a parish talk av 
 sich a thrifle." 
 
 The company, consisting of Jamie, Ned, Mary, Shandy, 
 and a few other neighbors, determined now to remain till 
 Frank s return. The pipe and glass circulated freely, 
 eliciting many a witty remark and pleasant joke at the 
 expense of the unfortunate Cantwell. 
 
 " Did I niver tell yees, boys," said Shandy, in evident 
 good humor, " about the night I was goin to be shot, about 
 a fortnight ago ? " 
 
 The answer, of course, was in the negative ; then a gen 
 eral movement of the chairs and stools still closer round 
 the cheerful turf-fire, and a unanimous wish expressed to 
 hear the story. 
 
 10 
 
146 SHANDY M GUIEE, OR 
 
 Shandy wiped the shank of his pipe in the sleeve of his 
 coat, handed it to his next neighbor, and then folding his 
 arms on his breast, and leaning back against the hab-stone, 
 with his legs across, began the tale. 
 
 " Well, boys, as I was sayin , it s jist a fortnight this very 
 night. Father Domnick went down the glen to Dennis 
 Sheeran s, where he was to have a * station nixt day, an 
 av coorse, myself was there too. Darby Gallaher, th ould 
 dark, was pittin out the catechism as uswal on the chil- 
 dher, an his reverence reading his offick in the wee room 
 aif the kitchen. Well, lo an behowld ye, it was drawin 
 close on this time i night, iz all gathered roun the spunk 
 i fire, some thinkin i bed, an ithers lisnen t ould Darby 
 an the childher, whin who comes in but a son iv Pether 
 Hanagans, an him as drukeit as a duck in April, an , siz 
 he, comin forrit, 
 
 " * Save ye, genteels this is a stormy kine av a night/ 
 
 " Thrue for ye, Pether, siz I, * an is that yerself, man ? 
 Why, ye re a most drowned come into the fire, an dry 
 yer duds. 
 
 " I haven t the laste iccasion, siz he, * am all in a leather 
 i sweat, as I im. I was sent for the priest is he here ? 
 
 " c Well, he is, siz I, av he s not gone to bed but who s 
 sick, that yer in sich a hurry ? 
 
 " * Brine Horisky, av the Cairn, siz he, t an his wife 
 they re not expected, an they sent me, hammer-an -tongs, 
 afther his reverence, for he ll not overtake them alive. 
 
 " Dear be about us, siz Darby, * and what s the com- 
 plent ? 
 
 " c Yalla faver, am tould, siz Pether ; but it s a fam- 
 ishin to face out, an the young priest not to the fore 
 aither. Am a most afeerd to thry ould Father Domnick ; 
 but, any way, he made bowld, an up he goes to the doore 
 and knocks. 
 
 " c Who athat? siz the priest. (Now, boys, you know 
 I can t put the tweel on the English lake his reverence 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 147 
 
 that divlish Haybrew pit a sort av a slippaugh on my 
 tongue that ill niver get rid av.) c Who s that ? siz he ; 
 don t be disturbin me am goin to bed. 
 
 " * It s me, siz Pether. 
 
 " Is it indeed ? siz the priest. c Well, an wid ye be 
 plazed to give yer name ? mighty snappish-lake. 
 
 " It s a sick-call, siz Pether. * Brine Horisky an his 
 wife, up the Cairn. 
 
 " What ails them ? siz he. 
 
 " Och ! they re very bad intirely, yer reverence, ye ll 
 not overtake them. 
 
 " Begone out i that, siz the ould man, openin the 
 doore, an makin a wallup i the stick at him. Begone ! 
 is this any time to come for a priest, an me goin to bed ! 
 
 " Well, yer reverence, siz Pether, sure they re callin 
 for ye all mornin maybe they re dead be this time. 
 
 " And why didn t they send since mornin ? 
 
 " Bekase they cudn t get a sowl to come, siz Pether; 
 they re very dissolit creathurs, for ivry one s afeerd i the 
 yalla faver. 
 
 " Well, be off, siz the priest, an don t come near me 
 till mornin . So with that he closed the doore. 
 
 " Now, siz Pether, luckin at me, an scratchin his head, 
 I tould ye what I d get; but it s murdher, any way, to 
 think av bringin th ould man out sich a night. 
 
 " Niver mind, siz I, * the first s the worst av him ; he has 
 a kine av a frownin way, ye know, but he ll go ; ill go bail 
 for him. 
 
 " We all gathered roun the fire, speckin to see him 
 come up from the room ivry other minit ; but a deuce a up 
 or up he come. So I wint over, an clapt my eye to the 
 keyhole, an begorra, there he was in bed as snug as a flea 
 in a blanket. 
 
 " Well, siz I, turnin to Pether, if that s not quare 
 enough, gahun to the bit if it isn t the first time I ever 
 knew him to do the lake afore ; so am thinkin ye may go 
 home, Pether, for he ont go the night. 
 
148 SHANDY M GUIRE, OB - 
 
 "Aff went Pether, an we all got undher the clothes, an 
 fell asleep. We cudn t be more nor sound Paddy Kelly 
 an me in the same bed, as snug an warm as two kittins 
 thegither when what wid ye have av it, dear, somebody 
 got a hoult i my nose, an pucked it jist as if it didn t be 
 long to me ! 
 
 " Git up out i that, siz some one, an quet yer snorin ; 
 it s corked yer nose ought to be. Git up, siz he again. 
 
 " Who ir ye ? siz I, wakin in a minit. Who ir ye 
 that s makin sich freedoms ? less i yer thricks, my good 
 fella, till yer betther aquent. Cork yer own nose, siz I, 
 av it disn t plaze ye. 
 
 " Git up, man ; shure Father Domnick s waitin , siz 
 Brine Sheeran, for I knew his voice now. He cudn t 
 make out where yer bed was, an I had to rise to waken 
 ye. Make haste, and don t keep him waitin . 
 
 " Well, up I bounced, and there sure enough was the 
 oulcl priest ready for the start. 
 
 " Orra, mai i mai, Father Domnick dear, siz I ; shure 
 yer not dhreamin 7 iv goin out sich a night ? (knowin I d 
 have to go with him). 
 
 " I must go, siz he ; I can t sleep, so I may as well 
 take the hills for t. 
 
 " But isn t Pether gone, siz I, not expeckin ye d 
 budge till mornin ? Hout ! ye can t go, yer reverence; 
 it s downright murdher. 
 
 " Well, well, siz the priest, ye know the road as well 
 as Pether arn t ye bound to visit the sick, arn t ye? 
 
 " Visit the sick ! oh, av coorse, siz I, sartintly, it s one 
 i the seven corporals ; but feen a word the Chrisen doc- 
 thrin says about goin out sich an onraisonable night as 
 this. Begorra, siz I (pittin on my shoes), the Bible says 
 there s a time to go to bed and a time to rise, an now yer 
 reverence is goin as clane against it, as av ye wur a down 
 right Protestin . 
 
 " But it was all no use. So, to make a long story short, 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 149 
 
 I gathered my duds about me as well as I cud, and tied a 
 kidug over the priest s hat, an under his chin. 
 
 " We ll have to walk the whole skutch, siz I (trying 
 him again), an it s well on to the feck i six miles to the 
 house : am afeerd, in throth I am, Father Domnick, it ill 
 kill yer reverence an you not so rugged as ye list to be ; 
 it s powerin lake a waterspout. 
 
 " Nonsense, siz he ; sure am not made i suggar, that 
 I d melt. 
 
 " Well, but ye know ye done enough in yer time, siz 
 I : yer ould now. 
 
 " Niver mind that, siz he again, strikin the ground 
 with his batta-more. Niver you mind, Shandy (smilin 
 in my face) ; am not to ould to attend a sick-call yet, God 
 be thankit. 
 
 " May the blessin i the same be about ye then, and 
 keep ye long so, priest dear, siz I ; for, in throth, boys, my 
 self was proud to see the sperit he had in him. 
 
 "Well, weans, it was as dark as pitch ye dudn t see 
 yer linger afore ye an it rainin lake the end av the 
 wurl ; but we got on middlin well till we came to Drim- 
 nasillach, an then, sure enough, we had to take the soft 
 bog for t. Feen a sich sputterin an tumblin as we had 
 ever ye seen since the creation i cats in a one hole, an 
 out i the ither, jist for all the wurl lake a pair i frogs in 
 ditch-shugh. Well, whin we got up as far as th ould walls 
 that Cantwell racked an burned to the ground, it got mor- 
 tial cowld, and rainin still lake the eave of a house. 
 
 " Yer reverence, siz I, it s a tarrible night intirely, so 
 it is ; it s the onraisonablest night, siz I, I ever pit me fut 
 out am afeerd we ll not be able to stan it. 
 
 " Thrust in God, siz the ould man ; he s able to help 
 us it s his work we re doin , shure an he ont forsake us. 
 Go you on afore me, siz he, an ill hould ye by the skirt. 
 
 " On we trudged, him houldin by the skirt i my coat, 
 an me gropiri my way with a stick ; for my eyes might as 
 
150 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 well be in my pocket : bad win to the stime I could see 
 more nor the pothooks there. 
 
 " Whisht ! siz Father Domnick ; < was that a voice I 
 heard afore us there ? 
 
 " Ugh, no, siz I ; it was only a peeweet ; so on we 
 wint again about the three lengths av a tether, not spakin 
 a word, with our heads down facin the rain ; when jist 
 while ye d say trapsticks, down I tumbled, head over heels 
 in a turf-bink, as I thought but what was it, av yees 
 plaze, but Patchy Keshidy s still-house the priest lettin 
 go my skirt, an stappin above. I knew in a minit where 
 I was, feelin the smell i the potale an grains that I was 
 rowlin in, lake an ell in a mud-hole. Well, begorra, I d 
 scarcely been right in the hole, when two i the chaps runs 
 out, cryin , Police ! police ! an one i them got hoult i 
 me by the neck lake a wild-cat. 
 
 " Let go me neck! siz I; for ony sake let me go 
 am a smotherin . 
 
 " Fire the still ! shouted Patchy (for I knew his voice 
 in a minit). Blow it up, siz he, on the rascally police 
 the stave-brakin villains. 
 
 " < Stap ! stap ! siz I. for the love i God, or ye ll kill the 
 priest. Stand back, Father Domnick, siz I, or they ll 
 blow ye to dhuggins. 
 
 " Don t fire it ! roared Patchy ; stap who ir ye at 
 all ? siz he, still guzzlin me by the throat. 
 
 " Shandy M Guire, siz I. Who else id I be ? 
 
 " Well, begorra, the word wasn t well out i my mouth, 
 whin bang went the still, an tuck the roof i the craw 
 alang with it ; but, iv coorse, it was only scraws was on it. 
 
 " The priest ! the priest ! siz I (an me a most dead 
 myself; ) he s murdhered ! Father Domnick, ir ye living 
 at all? 
 
 " To be sure I am, siz he ; take care av yerselves. 
 An with that he jumped down on the bossag beside us, as 
 light as a bumbee on a benweed. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 151 
 
 " Well, there s no use in talkin if we wurn t in a purty 
 mess I wish ye d jist see us. May I niver, if the brack 
 iv Anghrim cud houl the cannel to it. But bad scran to 
 the hair we cared about ourselves only thinkin av his 
 reverence, for we wur sure an sartin he was kilt; an when 
 we saw him safe, we got as proud an uplifted as Joice the 
 gauger himself 
 
 " Well, as I was sayin , we soon got to our scrapers 
 again, an afther condolin with Patchy about the rimmigin 
 an rackin we made, I scrambled up some i the ould splin 
 ters i the still-house ; indeed, they wur scarce enough, but 
 ony way, as big Jarmy ust to say, between rooks an 
 jackdaws, we got as much as made a torch, an affwe set 
 once more to the Cairn. It wusn t very long, ye may be 
 shure, till we got to the place, seein we had the light, and 
 cud step on ithout gropin . 
 
 " So when we came to the doore, an lucked in, in troth 
 it was tryin enough. There was poor Brine an the wife 
 (God be good to them both, they re past throuble now, the 
 creathurs !) there they wur lyin thegither, in a wee out- 
 shot bed aside the fire, an not a livin sowl near them but 
 themselves, barrin the cat, that was washin her face cosily 
 on the hab-stone. 
 
 " It s a poor sight, Father Domnick, siz I, as I peeped 
 in av the broken windy. < It s a distressin sight for a body 
 to luck at, an not a brathin mortial to see afther them. 
 
 " Poor enough, siz th ould man, shakin his head, an 
 the wather runnin aff his hat lake a beescap in a shower 
 i rain, but God is good to them ; shure they re livin any 
 way, an that s one blessin : they ll not die without the 
 blissed sacramints. Go up, Shandy, siz he, to the nixt 
 house there, an bring me a cannel, if they have any. 
 
 " Up I runs to Mickey Melly s, and glad they wur to see 
 me, when I tould them the priest was cum. 
 
 " Irn t ye afeerd, siz Mickey, av the yalla faver, that 
 yer goiii in so bowld with the cannel ? 
 
152 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 u * There isn t a feerdher creathur brathin breath, siz I ; 
 4 ill only lave it at the doore, an come back while he s 
 purparin them. So down myself goes with the cannel, 
 an siz I, here it is, yer reverence ; am afeerd to ventur. 
 
 " Come in, Shandy, siz he ; come in there s no fear 
 God s good an he spoke thick, lake one d be out i 
 breath. 
 
 " O, begorra, siz I ; 1 darn t the M Guires is greatly 
 given to the faver. 
 
 " Come in, siz he again, an help me ill not keep ye 
 a minit. 
 
 " Well, with that I ventured to peep in, an may I niver 
 do harm, weans dear, if I knew whether I was sittin or 
 stanin when I saw it. * Bah ! siz I to myself, it s only 
 ravin I am it can t be. So I winked three times, and 
 lucked in again ; but it was true enough : there was th ould 
 priest sittin lake on the bed-stock, with Brine s arms roun 
 his neck, an his own roun the dyin creathur, jist that 
 way, here Shandy described the posture, supportin 
 him, an strivin to rise with him on his back, but cudn t, 
 for he was ould now, an far waker nor he ust to be. So, 
 siz I, goin forrit a step or two, not knowin what he was 
 about, 
 
 " For the love i Heaven ! siz I, < Father Domnick, dear, 
 what in the wurl d ye mane ? 
 
 " Whisht yer bawlin , siz he, an don t bring the town 
 about us. 
 
 " An goodness be near us ! siz I. 4 What ir ye doin 
 at all ? ye must be asthray ! 
 
 " I want to get him over on the straw there in the 
 corner, to hear .his confession. 
 
 " To hear his confession ! siz I. 
 
 " Yes, siz he ; shure the wife s here in the bed, an 
 she d be listenin to us. 
 
 " Well, boys, I knew then at wanst what his manin 
 was ; an surely when I sees th ould priest, with his white 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 153 
 
 head bent clown, tryin to lift the sick man, an not able, 
 an him so delakit to ax anybody to help him, for fear 
 they d ketch the disase, I got all throughother an ashamed 
 i myself. The fear left me all at once, when I saw the 
 amplish he was in ; and, begorra, over I runs, an gets a 
 hoult i Brine. 
 
 " Let his reverence go, siz I ; I ll kerry ye in God s 
 name, siz I, if I was to take the complent an die the- 
 morrow. So I tuck him over, an laid him down on the 
 wisp i straw fornenst the fire. 
 
 " < Ye have God s blessin an an ould man s for that, any 
 way, Shandy, siz he. Take up this big coat an dry it 
 for me if I want ye again, I ll call ye. 
 
 " When I gets up to Mickey s, there was a brave, 
 rousin fire on ; so I sits down, and siz I to Mickey, Am 
 thinkin Brine an the wife ont put this over tliim. 
 
 " It ll be nick-an -go with them, siz Mickey ; an 
 more s the pity, for Brine an Kitty were dacent, civil, 
 honest neighbors. 
 
 " Thrue for ye, Mickey, siz I. It ought to be in 
 them any way ; for if they tuck it from the ould stock, 
 there never was onything but dacency left at their doore. 
 But shure, siz I again, I thought Brine was betther aff. 
 
 " An so he was, siz Mickey, clane an comfortable till 
 misfortin overtuck him but I suppose ye heerd it afore. 
 
 " * Not a word, siz I. I live a good stretch from this 
 he might be dead an buried for me. 
 
 " Well, siz Mickey, it s asy toul . He had two sons 
 an a girl last year in deed an word, as good, well- 
 lookin childher as ony poor man might wish to see about 
 his fireside. One iv the boys was goin on twenty, an a 
 brave help he was on the bit i land, an the ither was 
 risin sixteen ; the girl was but a wee girsah, runriin about 
 the house, an herdin the cows an sheep. Well, it was 
 jist drawin on this time last year that a poor woman, 
 luckin for her bit an her bed, came to his door, an axed 
 
154 SHANDY M 4 GUIKE, OR 
 
 for a night s lodgin . AY coorse she was welkim d to the 
 run i the kitchen, an a shake-down in the corner, as ivry 
 creathur that s goin the road has a right to. Nixt morn- 
 in , lo and behowld ye ! she wasn t able to rise com- 
 plainin of her head an rackin pains in her back ; but 
 Brine an the wife thought nothin av it for two or three 
 days, till ould Shelah-wore come in, an tould them plump 
 it was the faver. Well, ye may be sartin the creathurs 
 were tarrible frikened about the disase, in swithers whither 
 to keep the sick woman, or bring her to the town, and let 
 the Rector take care av her out i the poor-money ; for she 
 was some sort av a Protestan, any way, seein there was 
 nather cross or bades about her, nor niver minshind the 
 priest. 
 
 " Am afeerd, honest woman, siz Brine to her one day 
 afther she got very bad intirely, * am afeerd ye r not think- 
 in i yer sowl as ye ought to do. Maybe it s betther for 
 me to go for the priest, av ye lake to have him ill be 
 passin that way to the docthor s for the dhrugs ; so it s no 
 throuble at all, av ye be onaisy to see him in yer difiquilty. 
 
 " Am not av his way i thinkin , siz she ; but if ye d 
 get me the Recthor, I d be behowlden to ye I want to 
 see him very much. 
 
 " Ough ! siz Brine, * in regard i that, siz he, * we 
 needn t be at the bother ; sure wee Peggy here can read 
 the Bible to ye, if it s that ye want. Ony way, he wudii t 
 come sure it s the faver ye have. 
 
 " I have somethin to tell him, siz she, afore I die 
 bring him to me, for God s sake. He ll come if ye tell 
 him it s a Protestan woman that s in it, an can t die till 
 she sees him that she wants to speak to him about 
 somethin that lies heavy on her conscience. 
 
 " It s the first time I heerd av it, siz Brine, t that a 
 Protestan minister cud be av any sarvice to ye in that 
 line ; but as ye axed me for God s sake I ll not refuse ye. 
 
 " So aff Brine went to the Moor, an whin he got there 
 he tould the sarvint he wanted to see the Recthor. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 155 
 
 " What d ye want with him ? siz the sarvint, mighty 
 proud. 
 
 " There s a sick Protestan woman, siz Brine, dying on 
 the Cairn, at my house, an she wants to see him very bad. 
 
 " Well, ye may go about yer bisness, siz the sarvant : 
 he can t lave the company they re at cards now, and 
 won t be disturbed so be off. 
 
 " Bad luck to yer ugly face, siz Brine, seem the impe- 
 rance i the spalpeen ; d ye think am a dog, that ye d 
 ordher me that way ? spakin loud, an goin in i the door 
 in spite av him. The powdered fellow boned Brine, an 
 was goin to malavouge him, when the misthress herself 
 cum down, an axed the rason i the ruction. 
 
 " * It s a sick woman, yer ladyship, siz Brine, that s not 
 expected any time ; she s at my house, an sint me down 
 to the Recthor 
 
 " Oh, to be sure, siz the misthress ; * poor creathur, why 
 wudn t she get somethin ? Ye did right, honest man, 
 to force yer way on an arrand i charity. Take care, 
 James, siz she, terrible sharp to the sarvuat, how ye thrate 
 people that s comin on sich bisness, or av ye don t, ye ll 
 get yer walkin papers. Go up now, siz she, an get me a 
 ticket for the spensary (dispensary) ; I ll write to the 
 docthor s man to sen her some medicin. 
 
 " Yer ladyship, siz Brine, maybe ye d send Docthor 
 Snodgrass himself she s mortial bad. Shelah-wore 
 thinks she has her death on her. 
 
 " Oh, no; am sorry, siz she, he can t go he s here 
 now with a power iv company, an can t lave us ; but the 
 medicin 11 jist do as well. 
 
 An what ill I say to her about the Recthor ? she 
 wants him, too. She tould me she had somethin to say 
 to his reverence that lay heavy on her sowl, and cudn t 
 die till she d spake to him. 
 
 " The Recthor ! siz she again ; oh, that s impossible ! 
 he cudn t lave the company the-night, but maybe he 
 
156 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 might go the-morrow. An who is she, siz the Recthor s 
 wife, 4 that she s so onaisy to see him ? 
 
 " She s a poor woman, siz Brine, luckin for her morsel 
 to eat, an the roof to cover her, an one i yerselves into 
 the bargain. 
 
 " An how arn t you a Catholic? how did she hap 
 pen to come to your place, av she s one av us ? 
 
 " Why, siz Brine, whin she axed me for a night s 
 lodgin I didn t wait to fin out what she wus I let her 
 in for God Almighty s sake ; an I d do the same av she 
 wus a Turk or a hathen ; but it was only nixt mornin we 
 found she was qnwell, an now JShelah-wore says it s the 
 black faver 
 
 " Black faver ! siz the rninisther s wife, jist like one d 
 see a ghost, and steppin back from Brine, mighty bewild- 
 ered-lookin . Why, ye villain, siz she, didn t ye tell me 
 that afore ? Begone out i the house, siz she, this minit. 
 Want my husban to visit a vagabond woman, maybe 
 and bring the faver home on his back to his family ! Be 
 gone, siz she, or.ye ll smit me ye have it on yer clothes 
 put him out, siz she to the sarvints, an let him wait 
 there till I write the ordher to the spensary. 
 
 " Well, dear, out poor Brine was shouldhered into the 
 yard, an there he stud waitin for the docthor s line. He 
 wusn t long there till the same augenach that spoke to 
 him first comes with a book an a piece i paper in his 
 hand, an siz he, Take these an go roun to the parlor 
 windy the masther wants to see ye. 
 
 " So when he got roun , the Recthor throws up the 
 windy, an siz he, Take that piece of paper to the docthor s 
 man, an he ll send some nice medicin for the sick woman, 
 an tell ye how to give it to her. An that book there s a 
 small Bible. Tell her to read it piously and devoutly ; an 
 if she can t read, let her get some one that can ; an tell 
 her to thrust in Christ, an she ll get a change av heart, set 
 in case she s a sinner. I marked the place where she ll 
 
THICKS UPON TKAVELLEKS. 157 
 
 get comfort out iv it s a chapter in the book av Job 
 it 11 tach her patience. 
 
 " So yer reverence on t come ? siz Brine. 
 
 " Oh, I can t, siz the Recthor I have company, an 
 my wife s tarrible feerd av the faver ; but shure am sendin 
 the blissed Word to her the happy tidins. 
 
 " We have that a ready, siz Brine, I ve a Bible at 
 home, so I needn t be kerryin this one, an Brine left the 
 book on the windy-stool c more betoken, siz he, l it s small 
 prent, an not so aisy to read as our own ; an regardin 
 this piece av paper, siz he, I ll lave it too, for God be 
 thankit, I ve a testher in my pocket that ill jist answer 
 the same. 
 
 " c What ! siz the Recthor, mighty angry. D ye despise 
 the word o God, ye papist villain ? 
 
 " God forbid, siz Brine, back to him again ; but I de 
 spise the man that gives it. It s poor charity, that, to a 
 woman that s dyin a stranger undher a stranger s roof 
 ithout a relation to luck afther her. She s a Protestan 
 too, an her own ministher forsakes her bekase his wife s 
 afraid i the faver. Av that be religion, siz Brine, it s a 
 wondherful cowld one. But God that s above us all ill 
 reward ye accordin to yer desarvin ; for yer a bad minis 
 ter for the poor, whativer ye may be fer the rich. So with 
 that he came away. 
 
 " Afther gittin a wheen hap orths i drugs in the town, 
 Brine cum home, and tould the woman all that happened. 
 
 " Well, says the creathur, Vit s hard to die this way, 
 ithout some clargy. You may as well get me the priest, 
 for I must see some one I can thrust. 
 
 " Off Brine wint, and you may be sure it wusn t long 
 till Father Domnick was here, an prepared her as well as 
 he cud in the short time he had. When he was jist step- 
 pin out i the doore, goin home again, the woman tould 
 him she had some papers to lave with him ; an takin out 
 her thrash-bag from undher her head, she give them to 
 
158 SHANDY M GUIRE, OB 
 
 him, tellin us all that she wished him to read them, an 
 keep them. 
 
 "Well, as I wus sayin , the woman died, and was 
 buried in Tarranilly graveyard. So that fared well, till 
 about a week afther, Brine s ouldest stockaugh (boy) got 
 sick i the faver, an died; in a fortnight more the nixt one, 
 and the wee girsah is lyin in the room there below with 
 the rest i the weans. We tuck her up, the creathur, 
 when the mother got sick, and ould Shelah cum to take 
 care av her. 
 
 " When Brine s last boy died, .afther payin docthors, 
 an wakin him, an spendin his time runnin here an 
 there, he hadn t a four-footed baste in the wurl but one 
 cow, an more than that, not a seed-pratee in the groun 
 nor one to pit in it. So we all jined our shoulders the- 
 gither, an give him a wee help some ploughed a day, 
 ithers give him a spade s settin i pratees, an more a lock 
 i barley or oats : that was all right, an ivery one was 
 shure he d soon be on his legs again, when the bailie came 
 an give him notish to quet for arrairs i rint. Well, May 
 day cum on, the rint wusn t paid, nather the ould one, nor 
 the runnin half-year ; an then poor Brine foun out at last 
 that it was the onluckiest day av his life when he left the 
 Bible on the windy-stool. Cantwell, his bailie, an the 
 police were here early on the mornin i the second i May, 
 turned him out av house an home, seized the growin crop 
 for the rint, tuck ivry pinsworth in the place, as much as to 
 the spoon on the dresser, and tore down the roof an the 
 roof-tree, till there s now nothin to be seen, where he 
 once lived dacent and comfortable, but the bare walls. 
 Brine was a beggar. The rest is aisy tould ; he had no 
 place to put his head in ; an for the sake av the God that 
 give me the means, an seein it was for charity to the 
 stranger he suffered, I tould him to take the barn ye see 
 him in, to thry an live in it, an while Providence d send 
 me a share iv his bounty, I d give him his part. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 159 
 
 "When Father Domnick was done preparin Brine an 
 the wife for death, he cum up to Mickey s, washed his 
 hands and face, an afther pitten on his big-coat it was 
 now as dhry as powdher, seein he staid a most two hours 
 with the sick creathurs was ready for the tramp again. 
 Feen a bit but tired as I was myself, I d rather be on the 
 road than so convanient to the faver; an as the rain was 
 over, and the moon shinin as bright as a new thirteen^ aff* 
 we started for Donegal, in place av Dennis Sheeran s ; for 
 the priest wanted to see Father John the curate, who was 
 onwell, an ony way, it was only two short miles, instead 
 av six, with a warm bed at the ind av it. 
 
 " When we got as far as the Moor, siz I to Father Dom 
 nick, * Am thinkin it s betther take the near-cut through 
 the Recthor s place here it ill save iz more nor half a 
 mile. 
 
 "<Och, no, siz he; I don t lake to meddle or make 
 with him. Maybe some one d see us ; they re afeerd av 
 the Ribbonmen comin about the house, am tould, an 
 might be watchinV 
 
 " Pugh-hugh ! si^ I, mighty onaisy to get to bed. 
 4 Shure it s four o clock now, yer reverence ; there s not a 
 movin bein but s asleep this time i night. Give us yer 
 han , siz I, an don t be scared. So I got up on the ditch, 
 an helped him over. 
 
 " Well, when we got into the wee grove i bushes, ahint 
 the glebe-house, I thought I saw somethin movin along, 
 and siz I, * What s that, yer reverence ? siz I, beginning 
 to feel a kind of fluttherin about my heart. c Isn t that 
 some one above there? siz I, again. Feen a word or 
 word he said ; and then I turned my head to see was he 
 ahint to me ; but, begorra, the priest saw it afore me, am 
 thinkin , for he was gone as clane as yisterday. So I 
 moved on a couple i steps more, an lucked again, an there 
 was the villain eyin me straight in the face, with a gun in 
 his fist. I knew if I d run, it id be into my coffin. Up 
 
160 SHANDY M GOTKE, OB 
 
 he makes to myself in a giffy, with his finger on the thrig- 
 ger ready to blaze av I d budge. 
 
 " Stand ! siz he, < or I ll blow the sowl out i ye. 
 
 " Well, ye may consider weans, I was makin buttons 
 when I hard that sartin he was an Orangeman, an 
 maybe takin me for a Ribbonman, or a papish at laste. Ye 
 may be shure I was in swithers what to do with meself 
 the cowld sweat powrin aff me lake hailstones. * Am 
 shot, siz I, * av I run, an am thransported av I don t. So 
 getherin up all the stray courage I cud convaniently mas- 
 ther, I boulted on. 
 
 " Hugh ! siz I ; I suppose ye heerd the news, honest 
 man, or ye wudn t be so early a-fut. Is the masther at 
 home ? 
 
 " What news, ye scoundrel ? siz he. 
 
 " Scoundrel ! siz I again, luckin mighty surpraised at 
 him. < Well, in troth, dear, it s little dacency yer mother 
 tached ye, siz I, * or ye wudn t spake sich oncivil langidge, 
 so ye wudn t, my bonchal. 
 
 " All blow yer brains out, ye papish villin, siz he, 
 mighty angry, an raisin the gun. 
 
 " Shure there s no one hindrin , siz I. 
 
 " An what s yer business here, ye croppy rascal ? siz 
 he, as cross an sharp as a tow-hackle. 
 
 " Murdher , siz I, < s my business will that plaze ye ? 
 
 " Murdher ! siz he again, afeerd-lake. 
 
 " Yes, siz I, lucking mighty bowld at him, an risin my 
 voice ; murdher an robbery an house-burnin s my busi 
 ness, since I see ye didn t hear it afore : it s fitther ye d be 
 where ye r more awantin than skulkin here. 
 
 " Where? siz he. 
 
 " In Coolbeg, siz I ; 4 but I must see the masther this 
 minit, I tell ye, an don t dar to stap me on an arrind av 
 life an death. Isn t Oliver Wilson s, an Wully Beaty s, 
 an all that s in them burnt to the groun burnt to cin- 
 dhers not as much left as ye d light yer pipe with ? 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 161 
 
 " My cousins, siz he, starin at me as white as a sheet, 
 an drappin the gun. 
 
 " l Deil a less, siz I, * av they were yer grandfathers 
 is there a sowl in the country but s out ? 
 
 " Luck was in my side, boys ; for may I niver do harm, 
 if myself knew him from inortial Adam. An siz I, goin 
 on a step or two 
 
 " * I must see his reverence, siz I ; < that s my ordhers. 
 
 Stop! siz he. 
 
 " Well, I turned roun , av course, an there I sees my 
 gentleman standin with his back to a tree, jist as dum- 
 foundherd-luckin as av he goin to mount the gallis. 
 
 " * Hout, man ! siz I, * nonsense niver let a thrifle cow 
 ye that way. 
 
 " Oh, my cousins ! my cousins ! murdhered in cowld 
 blood, siz he, clappin his hands, an keenein lake an ould 
 crone at a berial. 
 
 " It s av murdherin the papishes, siz I, * ye ought to 
 be thinkin , an not ravin there the villins take up 
 yer gun, siz I, stoopin an takin her up myself; take up 
 yer gun, and pepper the idolather vagabonds. Come 
 along, siz I ; an I led him up by the breast av his coat, 
 till we wur passin the big house, goin down to the por- 
 ther s gate, whin he stapped. 
 
 " c Where ir ye goin ? siz he, blubberin an cryin . 
 
 Shure there s the house. 
 
 " Well, I know, siz I ; { but as his honor s sleepin , am 
 lazy to disturb him. 
 
 " Disturb him ! siz he, brakin from me lake a tiger ; 
 
 * an my two cousins kilt an massacrated ! Let me go, 
 
 siz he ; 4 by the H we ll not lave a bloody papish alive 
 
 in the three parishes the murdherin , house-burnin cut 
 throats. We ll send them where they ll get burnin 
 enough. 
 
 " Aisy aisy, avourneen, siz I ; as yer goin to send 
 all the papishes in the three parishes down there, ill go 
 11 
 
162 SHANDY M GUIRE, OB 
 
 bail ye l be sendin me among the rest ; an as it s not jist 
 convanient for me to go so soon, I ll throuble ye, siz I, 
 liftin the gun, to keep a spenchal on yer tongue for a 
 while, an walk on afore me quate an aisy, or av ye don t, 
 all be temped to send ye to the low countries yerself first, 
 to carry the news. 
 
 " Well, I needn t tell ye, he saw in a crack it was on the 
 wrong side of the pillion he got ; so bad cess to the word 
 or word come out iv his mouth till we got over the steps 
 at the gate, an down in this side i Billy M Dade s the 
 blacksmith. 
 
 " c Stap now, siz I, when we cum to the holla in the 
 road. c Stap, an on yer knees with ye. 
 
 " < OiTah ! what for ? siz lie. 
 
 " Why it s the quatest place we ll get, siz I. 
 
 " * What for ? says he again, as pale as a parsnip. 
 
 " To say yer prayers, an make yer sowl, av coorse, 
 siz I. 
 
 " l An what d ye mane ? siz he. Shure yer not goin 
 to murdher me. 
 
 " I can t help it, siz I. 
 
 " Och ! siz he, < yer only frightenin me. 
 
 " * Deil a help I can do it, siz I ; an in troth and con 
 science, it goes against my grain to kill ye in this lonely 
 way it s not lake a scrimmage in a fair or market ; but 
 what s the use iv talking ? it was afore me, it seems 
 it was my luck to meet ye, I suppose. 
 
 " Och ! och! don t say that, siz he, trimblin and shak- 
 in like the happer av a mill. 
 
 " * Oh, begorra, siz I, the priest left it on me for pen 
 ance not a lie in it more nor s in yer Bible. I have six 
 murdhers yit to do afther this one. If ^had ketched the 
 Recthor instid av you, I d be free, seein he d be aqual to 
 seven common heretics himself. But down with ye, siz I ; 
 I haven t time to wait down with ye, an say a mouth 
 ful i prayers. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 163 
 
 " Oh, for the sake iv yer own sowl, don t murdher me, 
 siz he. 
 
 " Faith, dear, it s for the sake i that same, siz I, am 
 doin it to keep it as long out i purgathory as I can 
 down with ye, an don t delay me. 
 
 " But think i my wife an weans, siz he, * that s behint 
 me. 
 
 " Think you av Teddy Houlahan s ghost, siz I, that 
 ye s murdhered the other day, an that can t rest till there s 
 seven i your kind killed fornenst it. 
 
 " * I ll give ye all the money I have in the wurl, siz he, 
 av ye spare my life. Here s ten poun I ve to pay the hal- 
 iday rint, an ill .bless yer bones in the clay. Oh, for the 
 sake av my poor wife an childher, spare me this time, an 
 I ll niver wear an orange-ribbon while I live. 
 
 " * Well, go down on yer knees, any way, siz I ; * an 
 now, what s yer name ? 
 
 " c Andy Dinsmoor, siz he ; am the father i five help 
 less childher. 
 
 " Well, then, siz I, Andy Dinsmoor, take yer purse 
 with ye, an yer poor cowardly life along with it, for I d 
 scorn to touch them ; an when ye hear yer ministher 
 prachin av papishes killin an butcherin heretics as a duty 
 av their religion, remember this night, siz I, c an me afore 
 ye with a gun in my fist ; an when ye get a poor Catholic 
 in yer power, don t massacrate him as ye did Teddy Hou- 
 lahan. An whin yer Recthor s prachin chanty, tell him 
 to go and visit the poor, lake the heart-broken priest that 
 come along with me the night him that ye d have shot 
 av ye had seen him a while ago. Tell him to go, lake 
 him, over the mountains on fut to the poor av his parish, 
 an not to be ashamed nor afeerd . to go into the dissolit 
 cabins where the poverty an the faver is ; an av he can 
 do their sowls no good, let him give them somethin aside 
 the bare, cowld Bible let him give them the bit an the 
 sup for the poor body ; an tell him that I said it, siz I : 
 
164 SHANDY M GUIKE, OB 
 
 4 tell him whin God Almighty calls him up to give in his 
 account, that it ill be a poor excuse to say his wife was 
 afeerd i .the faver, an wudn t let him go to God s own 
 creathurs when they wur dyin , an wanted to see him in 
 their last diffiquilty. Tell him that his wife ill be a mill 
 stone roun his neck, an that he ll find the weight of it 
 whin him, an Brine Horisky, an the poor woman that he 
 sint the spensary-ticket an the Bible to, meets some day 
 or other. Tell him that] siz I ; an now rise up, Andy 
 Dinsmoor, an be aff about yer bisness I ll lave the gun 
 where ye ll get it safe an soun ; but if iver I see ye wear- 
 in an orange-ribbon or watching papishes again, I ll shoot 
 ye as sure as there s a heart in yer body.! " 
 
 Shandy ceased, and stretched over his hand for the pipe. 
 
 " And what happened Father Domnick ? " asked Ned, 
 handing the tongs and the pipe across the hearth. 
 
 Why, he slept at Father John s that night, an held 
 the station at Dennis Sheeran s nixt day, av coorse." 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 165 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 SHOWING HOW THE DEVOUT BEADING OF THE BIBLE CON 
 TROLS AND CALMS THE PASSIONS. 
 
 THE reader will have the goodness to remember that 
 " Dick the Oniedaun," agreeably to the injunctions of our 
 hero, handed a letter to Doogan, which he said his mother 
 directed him to return as soon as possible, and for which 
 civility he received, instead of the threatened punishment, 
 that worthy man s grateful acknowledgment in the shape 
 of a silver sixpence. 
 
 Now it happened that Doogan, unfortunately for him 
 self, never thought of the possibility of being overreached, 
 and without hesitation proceeded with the missive to the 
 quarters of the revenue-police. He handed the letter to 
 the barrack-guard, and requesting it might be given to the 
 lieutenant of the party with as little delay as possible, 
 returned to execute, as we have already described, his de 
 signs against the person of Frank Devlin. 
 
 When Joice read the contents of the letter, he arose 
 from his chair, folded his arms on his breast, and paced 
 the room in solemn strides, meditating as he went, like 
 one over whose fate some terrible danger impended, and 
 to evade which it required him to bring all his ingenuity 
 and prudence to the trial. 
 
 "Why," muttered he at length, "this is most vexatious 
 absolutely horrible to search the house for smuggled 
 goods, where I have received so much kindness and a 
 brother Orangeman s too that brother a magistrate, a 
 minister and himself the greatest enemy the smuggler 
 
166 SHANDY M GUIKE, OE- 
 
 ever met upon the bench. If I proceed to the search, I 
 may leave the country at once the Orangemen of the 
 neighborhood may take my life in revenge for the insult 
 offered their master and chaplain ; and if I don t, I lose 
 my commission worse still. There s Miss Cantwell, too 
 
 she will never survive it. Archibald says she is ever 
 speaking of me. I know it her attentions to me are 
 unmistakable. I never gave her cause but what then ? 
 
 that don t alter the case ; and to bring up a party of 
 revenue-police to search her brother s house for contraband 
 liquor ay, that s the devil of it. Well," said he again, 
 after a short interval of silence, during which he stood 
 still, his eyes fixed on the floor of the apartment " Well, 
 I ll ring for the sergeant he s a brother, and a member 
 of the lodge ; perhaps he may devise some plan, for I 
 can t." 
 
 He accordingly rang the bell, and the sergeant ap 
 peared. 
 
 "Read that," said Joice, pointing to the letter on the 
 table, " and let me hear what you think of it." 
 
 " Very disagreeable," said the sergeant, laying it down 
 again upon the table. 
 
 " Very," replied the lieutenant, emphatically. 
 
 " But it might be worse, sir," observed the sergeant. 
 
 " Worse ! how so ? " 
 
 " Why, if it were seized! for then, very likely, the magis 
 trate would be superseded, and the glorious cause suffer ; 
 you wouldn t wish that, sir ? " 
 
 "No: well " 
 
 " Well, then, give him the wink just a hint that you 
 might happen to go that way about ten o clock to-night." 
 
 " Very good ; and then " 
 
 " Then discharge your duty, sir, fearlessly, as the laws 
 of the service require." 
 
 " Right," said Joice ; " excellent, sergeant ; we have 
 both hit on the same expedient. It requires secrecy and 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. - 167 
 
 caution, however, to manage it properly, and knowing you 
 to be a prudent fellow, and one of ourselves besides, I 
 resolved to consult you. Now, you had better go your 
 self to the Moor this evening, see Miss Cantwell (the 
 Rector and Agent will both be at the lodge), and break 
 the matter to her as cautiously and respectfully as possi 
 ble. Observe me, if the liquor be in the house, she will 
 at once take the hint ; if it be not, she may get offended 
 at our officiousness ; so let the circumstances best direct 
 you how to act. When night falls, go up as secretly as 
 possible say I shall be there at ten o clock precisely. 
 Go now, and act judiciously." The sergeant quitted the 
 room. 
 
 Rebecca Cantwell, during all that afternoon, appeared 
 abstracted and melancholy. She sat silent and alone at 
 the window of her boudoir, looking down on the park- 
 entrance below with a fixity of gaze that denoted any 
 thing but attention to the busy scenes that were passing 
 on the road. She sat there, within that high window, 
 pale, tall, and erect as a statue, and so thin that one could 
 imagine she had now lost all of earthly mould that once 
 filled up the jarring and angular vacuities of her frame. 
 Indeed she would seem, to one who beheld her there for 
 the first time, to have worn that fragile and attenuated 
 covering of clay, more as a temple .for the spirit within to 
 dwell yet for a little time, than as an assemblage of ele 
 ments mixed up to form a mortal body, or to be the me 
 dium of human sensibilities. But it was only seeming: 
 there was nothing real in the picture. Within that light 
 and fragile body beat a heart as susceptible of pleasurable 
 emotions, as when the blush of happy sixteen had mantled 
 her cheek. 
 
 "Now past the meridian of life, she was sliding down far 
 away from the stars she once attracted around her, but 
 never could absorb ; and as she neared the termination of 
 her course, her rays became cold and cheerless. Rebecca 
 
168 SHANDY M GTJIRE, OB 
 
 felt this, and like the sun, taking a last look of the earth 
 he had illumed and warmed by his beams, and which he 
 sorrows yet to leave, as that heavenly orb sends out its 
 greatest flood of glory at its setting, so did the heavenly 
 orbs of the languishing Miss Cantwell shed their beams 
 with treble effulgence on the heart of the daring and gal 
 lant officer of revenue-police. Yes, indeed, reader, the 
 lady had hopes hopes that rose up before her in her day 
 dreams, bright and cheering from amid the gloom and 
 sorrows of her unhappy maiden destiny. Yes, indeed, 
 and alas for her pious, holy, and gentle heart! she placed 
 her fondest affections her sweetest, dearest, last hope 
 on Joice. It was but the night before he appeared to her 
 in a vision, and beckoned her to come away, and be happy 
 with him forever. She had been dreaming of her young 
 days, her happier hours, when, light and joyous as a sun 
 beam on the rippling waters, she had danced and laughed 
 merrily through her reckless girlhood; then she dreamt 
 of the time when the rejection of a suitor for her fair 
 hand was an affair of trifling moment of every-day 
 occurrence a thing she used only to regard as a subject 
 for joke and merriment; by degrees, however, the dream 
 became less pleasing and illusive; she even felt a con 
 sciousness, which her slumbers heightened rather than 
 lessened, that she had acted unwisely that she had per 
 mitted opportunities to pass by, which a wiser and less 
 ambitious maiden would have embraced with gladness. 
 Still the dream proceeded, and carried her farther and 
 farther down the pathway of life ; each moment her 
 fading memory became less and less distinct. Queen 
 Mab, assiduous at her loom, wove her web closer and 
 darker round the innocent sleeper, till nothing at length 
 was to be seen but the future dreary and dispiriting as 
 the gloom of an eternal prison. Despair came at length 
 like the ghoul from his dark caverns, and scowled horribly 
 upon her ; the faces of her rejected suitors appeared one 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 169 
 
 after another from behind the dark curtain, and laughed 
 tauntingly at her deplorable situation. She was just in 
 the depth of her misery, about to say to death, " Come, 
 thou last resource of the wretched ! come, thou pain 
 killer ! dissolve this mortal fabric, and let the soul fly out 
 from its prison-vault ; " but just at that moment she fancied 
 she heard a voice, sweet and silvery as an angel, exclaim, 
 " Rebecca ! Rebecca ! come, fly with me ;" and looking 
 up, she saw the clouds break asunder, and a countenance 
 peeping out from behind, joyous and happy as a seraph s, 
 fixing its smile upon her. The voice was that of love, 
 and the lovely face that of Mr. Christopher Joice. " Kit 
 
 Kit my own Kit!" she cried, stretching out her 
 arms to the beautiful vision ; "come, and bring me away 
 from this terrible place oh! I am thine thine for 
 ever." 
 
 "What is the meaning of this, Rebecca?" said her 
 sister-in-law, Mrs. Baxter Cantwell, shaking her by the 
 arm, for she had just entered the young lady s room to 
 inquire her reason for retiring so early. " What nonsense, 
 Rebecca wake up, and tell me who is this Kit you 
 invoke?" 
 
 " Yes, dear Kit, I know it is you my own Kit thine 
 
 thine forever !" 
 
 " Pray cease this folly, Rebecca wake up, and tell me 
 whom you speak of." And Mrs. Cantwell shook the 
 dreamer still more roughly. Rebecca at length opened 
 her eyes, and looking for a moment vacantly in the face 
 of her sister, exclaimed, 
 
 "Oh, is it only you? Why did you disturb me? I 
 thought it was I thought " And turning on her side, 
 she was again asleep in an instant. 
 
 " Very good," muttered the lady of the house ; " very 
 good, my pious, saintly maiden. I suspect who this Mr. 
 Kit is very well we shall see." And taking up the 
 light, she returned to the parlor. 
 
170 SHANDY M GUIBE, OR 
 
 Next morning, when Rebecca woke, her heart was full 
 of pleasing anticipations : something whispered her, that 
 the vision of the night would yet be realized. She fan 
 cied, too, that some one came athwart her delightful 
 vision, and dispelled it somewhat suddenly ; but what it 
 was she could not recollect. 
 
 It was in the afternoon of that same day (the one succeed 
 ing her dream), Miss Cantwell had been sitting, as the 
 reader is already aware, in her boudoir, looking out on the 
 pleasure-grounds below. For the last half-hour she had 
 been apostrophizing the leaves, as they fell off one by one 
 from the trees in the avenue, and lay scattered here and 
 there on the whitening sward. " Such has been my fate, 
 also," she continued, turning her thoughts in upon herself. 
 " Once I was young and fresh like you ; but now in a 
 little time, and it seems very, very short now I am 
 faded." And she moved round to look in the mirror. 
 "Yes, thou at least tellest no falsehoods thou reflectest 
 but an image, and yet that image is a stern reality ay, 
 stern and terrible no, not terrible, no, that is too strong 
 an expression but somewhat changed for the worse 
 the worse ! well, I don t know that depends on men s 
 taste. Some like the young, and some prefer the the 
 lady a little more experienced than the romping girl of 
 twenty-five. 
 
 Before Decay s effacing fingers 
 Have swept the lines where beauty lingers, 
 
 is an age young enough, I should imagine. A wife should 
 be a serious matron, not a wayward, giddy child. The 
 pretensions of young flirts nowadays are really intolera 
 ble. Marriage at sixteen ! it s absolutely frightful a 
 disgrace to the morality of the age we live in. Generally 
 speaking, men are fools ; and as the world grows older, 
 the number increases. Kit, however, is not among that 
 number ; he has too much good sense to be running after 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 171 
 
 gilded butterflies. Worth solid worth is his choice 
 yes, I have always thought so and last night s dream 
 confirms me in the belief; for my dreams are ever true as 
 the waking reality." 
 
 In such a vein did the lady s thoughts run on, till the 
 shades of night fell upon the landscape before her; and 
 so deep and absorbing were her contemplations, that she 
 might have remained for hours in the same position, 
 regardless of the darkness, had not her waiting-maid dis 
 turbed her reveries by suddenly entering the apartment, 
 and announcing a message from Lieutenant Joice. 
 
 "What is that the girl says ? " inquired Mrs. Can twell, 
 passing the waiting-maid at the room-door. 
 
 " Some message," replied Rebecca, carelessly. " Noth 
 ing important, I suppose." 
 
 " I thought I heard her mention Mr. Joice s name," ob 
 served Mrs. Cantwell. " I trust, Rebecca," she added, with 
 a calm severity in her tone, " you will be cautious how you 
 receive any private message from that gentleman. It is 
 very well to be polite and even condescending to the 
 young man, since he happens to be a convert to our holy 
 religion ; but anything more no, I cannot, I will not 
 imagine such a thing " 
 
 " Really, my dear sister," interrupted the maiden, " I 
 must not permit you to speak in this fashion. Surely, as 
 you have already said surely, you cannot imagine a lady 
 of my age and religious dispositions could for a moment 
 entertain a serious thought of such a man!" 
 
 " Good heavens ! " exclaimed Mrs. Cantwell, as if sud 
 denly awaking to the awfulness of the case. " Just think, 
 Rebecca if Baxter suspected such an intimacy ! " 
 
 " Ah, do now," entreated Rebecca, imploringly, "do, my 
 dear sister do cease to tease me. Oh ! you make me 
 so wretched, to think you could suspect me of such 
 foolish things." 
 
 " Suspect ! " repeated Mrs. Cantwell : " and is that so 
 
172 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 very wonderful ? Why, you are forever speaking of him, 
 Rebecca, and when he is here, you seem to have neither 
 eyes nor ears for any one else : perhaps sleeping, as well 
 as waking, you are thinking of him, if the truth were 
 told." 
 
 " Oh, shame ! shame, sister ! - cease this folly. I am not 
 at all in a jesting mood." 
 
 Mrs. CantwelPs lip curled slightly at the lady s evasive 
 reply to what she intended for a direct charge ; and she 
 was about to speak out her thoughts, when a better feeling 
 came to soften down the asperity of her temper. 
 
 " Well, Rebecca, all I shall say now is, that your man 
 ner towards Mr. Joice is very remarkable." 
 
 "Perhaps so," responded the maiden, somewhat quick 
 ly ; for she thought the best proof of her innocence was to 
 show how heartily she repudiated the insinuation. " Per 
 haps so ; and if I feel a lively interest in the young gentle 
 man as a convert to Protestantism, why should you be 
 so unkind so uncharitable, I should rather have said 
 as to attribute that interest to other motives ? I assure 
 you, Mrs. Cantwell, I shall not tolerate such unreasonable 
 language." And saying this, the maiden quitted the 
 room in manifest displeasure. 
 
 Having descended the stairs, she found the sergeant of 
 revenue-police awaiting her presence in the hall. 
 
 "Madam," said he, taking off his cap and bowing obse 
 quiously, " I am the bearer of a message to you from 
 Lieutenant Joice." 
 
 The tall lady smiled as much as she thought necessary 
 to show how little displeasure she felt at the announce 
 ment ; and then raising her handkerchief to cover an 
 incipient shadow of a blush, said, very modestly, 
 
 " Oh, indeed from Mr. Joice ? " 
 
 " Yes, madam ; he requests me to say he intends calling 
 here to-night at ten o clock, precisely, and hopes nothing 
 will be in the way. You understand me, madam ? I 
 cannot be more particular." 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 173 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " said Rebecca, quite nervously, for she saw 
 in an instant her dream was about to be realized " Oh, 
 dear ! you quite frighten me what a strange message ! " 
 
 " He will come very privately no one may be the 
 wiser, you know. He hopes all difficulties may be re 
 moved you understand, madam it s unnecessary to 
 be more explicit." 
 
 The lady nodded and smiled. 
 
 " He can t help it, madam no, indeed. He s a victim 
 to his feelins he is indeed." 
 
 "Poor fellow!" murmured the lady. 
 
 " Oh, indeed, madam, if you knew the state of his feelins, 
 you d pity him." 
 
 " I do pity him," replied the lady. 
 
 " To-night, madam, remember, at ten o clock let all 
 be right when he comes." 
 
 Rebecca permitted her head to fall on her bosom, and 
 covering her face with her hands, murmured out between 
 her fingers, 
 
 " Oh, dear ! it will become so public what will the 
 world say of it ? " 
 
 "Not at all, madam not at all," said the sergeant, 
 soothingly. " It will be all hushed up don t be terrified, 
 madam it has happened to the best families in the king 
 dom it has, indeed." 
 
 " Oh, but think think how the world will speak of it 
 it will be all in the newspnpers, too. Oh, dear ! we must 
 leave the country forever tell him that we must fly 
 forever. Oh, dear ! how the thought terrifies me ! " and 
 the nervous maiden leaned against a table for support. 
 
 " Upon my I beg your pardon, madam but faith, I 
 can t see why you take on so for such a trifle ; sure you 
 know, madam, if you manage right and you- have 
 plenty of time to put all to rights before ten o clock you 
 may defy the world ; and then " 
 
 Here the voice of Mrs. Cantwell, approaching the head 
 
174 SHANDY M GUIKE, OK 
 
 of the stairway, interrupted the conversation at a most 
 critical moment. 
 
 Rebecca suddenly placed a piece of gold in the ser 
 geant s willing palm, whispered him to be cautious and 
 faithful, motioned him to leave, and then hurried back to 
 her boudoir. 
 
 How Rebecca was employed during the two hours that 
 elapsed between the receipt of the message and the time 
 appointed for the interview, is not given us to declare. 
 Within the sanctuary of her own room, her thoughts and 
 actions were inviolable ; even if, in the invisible and 
 ubiquitous character of Fortunatus, we placed our imper 
 tinent eye at the keyhole, and fancied fancy often plays 
 us scurvy tricks we saw her packing up different arti 
 cles of dress, costly ornaments, "jewels rare," and rich 
 embroidery, in a portable valise, the secret should forever 
 be confined within the recess of our own bosom. Yes, 
 reader, the historian should have something besides his 
 veracity to boast of. He should have a delicacy, as sensi 
 tive as the apple of his eye, never chronicle a single 
 event that had not taken place before the eyes of men. 
 He will always find sufficient material in the public acts 
 of men, and women too, without skulking, like a spy, to 
 peep through every hole and crevice in a lady s boudoir or 
 a gentleman s cabinet. For our own part, we have ever 
 shown our utter detestation and horror of such outrages 
 on the decencies and civilities of private life. If, for in 
 stance, we had the coarse indelicacy to assert we saw, with 
 our own eyes, the amiable and sylph-like Rebecca Cant- 
 well, after locking her room-door, throw herself on a sofa 
 and sigh, that we saw her rise again, after a short inter 
 val of solemn thought, as if from a conflict between strong 
 affection for the man she loved, and the foolish fears the 
 scandal-mongers of a base world had created within her ; 
 had we asserted that we saw her unlock her wardrobe, 
 take out a bridal dress, listen for an instant as if, like the 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 175 
 
 timid fawn, she heard footsteps approaching, examine it 
 carefully, that there might be no bar to its immediate use, 
 
 sigh as she thought of the many, many weary years 
 that passed since that dress first saw the light of a young 
 existence, then smile as if some happier ray shot across 
 the gloom, and lit up before her mental vision bright and 
 sunny vistas in her future pathway through life ; if we 
 dared to trample the delicate secrets of the sex under our 
 leet, and declare we saw her placing sparkling gems and 
 bridal wreaths in her hair, that we saw her twist and 
 turn before her mirror, like an Italian opera-dancer before an 
 enraptured audience, smile, and turn, and twist again, 
 
 and then, with a resignation to her fate so beautiful, so 
 Christian-like, because so painful to a maiden of her trifling 
 experience of the world s ways, begin her packing-up 
 perhaps for a far foreign land perhaps for some sunny 
 spot for aught she cared, poor thing in the Grecian 
 archipelago, or among the half-discovered islets of the 
 Pacific ; if we dared thus, we again repeat, to shake off" 
 our native delicacy from which even story-telling, with 
 all its reckless indifference to private feelings, hath not yet 
 weaned us and exposed to the cold sneer of the world 
 the secrets of Miss Cantwell s boudoir, we should cover 
 our face with the hand that wrote the libel on her fair 
 fame, and retire forever from the presence of the sex to 
 whom we had offered so unmerited an outrage. 
 
 A few minutes before the time appointed for the impor 
 tant interview, Rebecca descended to the drawing-room, 
 made the usual domestic arrangements with her sister for 
 the ensuing day, expressed a wish to retire earlier than 
 usual, because of a certain degree of fatigue and lassitude 
 she felt, regretted she could not await her brother and 
 nephew s return to join in the evening devotions of the 
 family, and withdrew for the night. 
 
 When the maiden again entered her chamber, her eye 
 sought the timepiece on the mantel. It wanted yet five 
 
176 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 minutes of ten. How strange, she thought, her lover 
 would appoint that hour! Why, it was the very time her 
 reverend brother and his son were expected to return 
 from the lodge. But, then, lovers are never prudent. No 
 prudence is too cold for love. Yet if she happened to 
 be surprised in the act, how terrible the consequences ! 
 Well, but there is danger in every adventure of course 
 that was naturally to be anticipated : besides, danger gave 
 a more lively interest to the thing. And moreover, what 
 of danger? was not her heart young, and daring, and 
 resolute in such a cause the cause of her " Kit " and 
 liberty ? Glorious thought ! There was her little canary, 
 poor thing ! sleeping on its perch, with its little head 
 under its wing. It had been caged up, like herself, for 
 years. It bore its imprisonment too, like her, with resig 
 nation no, not resignation with patience, because 
 there was no alternative. Well, if the dear bird found the 
 door of its cage opened by some good angel, would it not 
 fly away and- be free ? Nay, more if it only thought of 
 
 it would the poor creature not crush its little body 
 
 through the wires, even at the risk of its life ? To be 
 sure it would yes, and she must give it liberty too : it 
 had a perfect right to range over this free earth like her 
 self. At the moment her own long-looked-for happiness 
 was about to be realized, she ought not to be niggardly 
 of her favors! No! two hearts should beat happily on 
 the morrow her own and her little canary s; and ac 
 tuated by this benevolent feeling, she opened the door of 
 the cage, and the window of the room, saying, " Now, my 
 pretty darling now you are asleep, little dreaming, per 
 haps, of the joy that awaits you! When the day breaks, 
 your confinement ends your kind mistress will then be 
 far away gone forever and I would not leave you, 
 my pretty pet, to be tended by less gentle hands no; 
 fly away fly to the green woods fly like your mistress, 
 and be happy ! " 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 177 
 
 The house-clock struck ten. Rebecca thought she never 
 heard it strike so loud before it went to her very heart. 
 The ringing noise that followed the last blow of the ham 
 mer, caused a corresponding thrill to pass through her 
 nerves, vibrating as it went. She put a small duodecimo 
 Bible in her reticule, saying, "There I must not forget 
 my religion no ; I shall carry it in that bag it will be 
 a great comfort I shall read it for my dear * Kit as we 
 journey along : his thoughts and feelings require to be a 
 little more spiritualized." Then suspending the reticule 
 from her delicate arm, she took up the valise, approached 
 the door, and listened attentively ; but no sound came to 
 disturb the silence. Having opened the door, and locked 
 it cautiously on the outside, she felt her way along the 
 dark passages, and trod as lightly as if her limbs had been 
 formed of the pith of elder. When she reached the great 
 entrance-hall, and was crossing over to the side opposite 
 the stairway, Mrs. Cantwell issued suddenly from a room, 
 within a few paces of her, carrying a light in her hand. 
 Rebecca stopped horror-stricken, as if some dreadful ap 
 parition had arisen before her. Her heart beat violently, 
 and her tender frame trembled as if an electric shock had 
 passed through the system ; but the lady of the mansion 
 passed on, and Rebecca breathed more freely. Again she 
 took courage, moved resolutely forward, entered the room 
 she had chosen for the interview, placed the valise on the 
 floor, closed the door noiselessly, and sat down before the 
 window, wrapped in her night-cloak, to await the result. 
 
 Hardly had she been seated, when her waiting-maid, 
 accompanied by Lieutenant Joice, stealthily approached 
 the open casement. The maid hurried away directly 
 she had performed her task, and left the happy pair to 
 gether. 
 
 " Oh ! my dear Miss Cantwell," said Joice, pressing the 
 lady s extended hand affectionately; "can you say 
 can you pardon this " 
 12 
 
ITS -N\ MWIRK, OR 
 
 Oh ! dear, dear ! ** ejaculated Rebecca. I fear I shall 
 never be able to * 
 
 Don t be terrified, Miss Cantwell be composed it s 
 quite a common thing. 9 
 
 * Oh, I know that* my dear Kit ; but I am naturally so 
 Ijtn > $o excitable,** 
 
 * There is no cause, I assure you, Miss Cantwell, for this 
 excitement,** 
 
 Oh, what will the world say? 1 * sobbed the maiden. 
 
 The world! what has the world to do with it?* 
 
 Oh, think of the newspapers, and the scandal-mon- 
 gvr> 
 
 "Met* lolly, my dear Miss Cant well. You agitate your 
 self quite too much for such a trifle. Be calm do, now 
 it will be all over in a few minutes,** 
 
 I am perfectly resigned,"* said Rebecca, with a beauti 
 ful Christian calmness in her tone. 
 
 * Trust all to me," said the officer, encouragingly, 
 
 * Perhaps I am too confiding my dear Kit I feel I 
 have not done right in meeting you here. But fate should 
 have it so our destiny is not in our own hands. 9 
 
 Why, my dear Miss Cantwell, 1 * observed Joiee, after a 
 pause ; * I fear I cannot well understand the cause, of your 
 apprehensions. Have you had everything arranged, as the 
 sergeant intimated. 9 
 
 Everything^" murmured Rebecca. 
 
 There is nothing to dread is there?** 
 
 What a question!** thought Rebecca. tt X<y she re 
 ified ; nothing, I believe,** *" 
 
 Well, and why do you appear so terrified ?** 
 
 Don*t know woman s heart is fearful the weak 
 ness of our sei, perhaps. It is such a dreadful step to take, 
 you know.* 
 
 Dreadful step!" muttered Joke, to whom the truth 
 beginning to reveal iteel 
 
 You men think little of it, perhaps but is all 
 
TRICKS tfPCW TRAVELLERS. 1 7^ 
 
 ready?" said the maiden, changing her tone somewhat 
 abmptly, for *be fete seriously disappointed at the delay, 
 and the Apathy of her lorer at so eritieal a moment* 
 "Hare 7011 brought any one to assist? I mean, to " 
 
 "To assist! 9 repeated Joiee; "yes the men are in 
 watting beyond there among the trees.* 
 
 "Well, then," said the lady, taking up the valise, and 
 setting it on die window-sin, "call one of them, and hare 
 him take this to the carriage. I intrust my fife and my honor 
 to yon, Kit. I hare nerer concealed my lore from yoo 
 never; and oh! remember, * Kit remember in after 
 years the sacrifices I hare made for yon this night : that I 
 am leaving all that i* near and dear to me in this world 
 home, friends, kindred, and country, perhaps to be 
 thine thine forever. But what s that?" interrupted 
 the lady, startled by a noise proceeding from the front of 
 the house "knocking at the hall-door? Kit! Kh! that s 
 my brother s knock. Oh! let us fly fly while there is 
 yet time." 
 
 Fly!" said Joiee, now in utter amazement. What 
 yon must hare mistaken " 
 
 "Mistaken!" repeated the lady, scarcely able to articu 
 late the word. "Mr. Joice, yon sorely yon came here 
 to" 
 
 "To make a seizure," added Joice. 
 
 Rebecca started back, gave one wild, agonizing shriek 
 of despair, as she felt the last plank so suddenly swept 
 from under her feet, and fefl insensible on the floor. 
 
 Joice paused not an instant to reflect, but vaulted into 
 the room throng^ the open casement, an 
 
 ing form in his arms. Hardly had he laid her on a son, 
 and untied the dose Mack bonnet that almost covered her 
 lace, and prevented the cool air from reviving her, when 
 the door was violently broken open, a light entered, and 
 ere he could torn round to ask for ssiiliiiint, he received 
 a Wow across the temple that feifc 
 
180 SHANDY M GUIRE, OB 
 
 "Villain!" roared the infuriate clergyman (for it was 
 the Rev. Baxter himself just returned from the Orange 
 Lodge). " Villain ! " he vociferated, flourishing the handle 
 of a sweeping-brush over the body of the prostrate officer: 
 " what means this outrage ? " 
 
 " It s all a mistake," cried Joice, raising his arm to pro 
 tect his head from a repetition of the blow. 
 
 " Mistake ! " screamed the lady of the house. " Wretch ! 
 miscreant! is that the evidence of a mistake?" and she 
 pointed to the valise that had rolled in from off the win 
 dow-sill, and now lay on the floor beside her. 
 
 " Low, mean, unprincipled, vile wretch ! " cried the min 
 ister, again rushing at Joice, who had now scrambled to his 
 feet, while the blood streamed from his forehead. " Is this 
 the reward you offer us for all our kindness ? " 
 
 " Take her from the room ! " screamed Mrs. Cantwell, 
 addressing the servants, who had now assembled round 
 the prostrate maiden, and were chafing her temples. 
 "Take her away she desecrates the apartment. But, 
 stop what s this dangling at her arm? a bag hah! 
 and a Bible in it. Good heavens ! what a hypocrite she is! 
 She would carry her religion with her take her away 
 away with her ! " 
 
 " It s only a mistake I swear it," cried Joice. " I 
 wished to save you the disgrace of a public exposure ; but 
 now," added he, stepping back against the wall, and hold 
 ing up a handkerchief to stanch the wound with one hand, 
 whilst with the other he raised a small silver whistle to 
 his lips, and blew a shrill blast : " now," said he, smarting 
 from the blow, " I shall treat you with as little civility as 
 your conduct deserves." 
 
 " Merciful powers ! what does all this mean ? " exclaimed 
 the Rector, as the policemen tumbled in precipitously 
 through the open window. " Is my house to be polluted 
 by this fellow and his men ? Villain ! do you dare me to 
 my face do you? Are you resolved to carry her off by 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 181 
 
 brute force are you ? " And his voice cracked with pas 
 sion. 
 
 " I come to carry off your smuggled liquor not your 
 sister," said the officer; " and only that I respect your call 
 ing more than you yourself have done to-night, I should 
 arrest you for obstructing me, a king s officer, in the dis 
 charge of my duty. Sergeant," he added, "proceed to 
 the cellar, and make the seizure." 
 
 " Hold hold ! " vociferated Archibald, who had just 
 then returned from Tubbernasiggart, his garments drip 
 ping, his bosom torn open, and his locks tossed in wild con 
 fusion. " Hold ! " he cried ; " countermand the order, or by 
 all the powers of h 11, I ll lay you dead at my feet ! " 
 
 "I shall do my duty," said the officer, resolutely. 
 
 " Countermand the order ! " again shouted the agent, 
 raising a loaded blunderbuss he had snatched from the hall 
 as he ran in, to a level with the officer s heart, and placing 
 his fore-finger on the trigger ; " or by " 
 
 The blasphemy was interrupted by a sharp, quick blow 
 on the arm from a policeman s firelock. The arm fell par 
 alyzed ; but the blunderbuss, exploding as it struck the 
 floor, shattered the furniture in the opposite side of the 
 apartment. 
 
 "Men, guard the room," said the officer; "these two 
 gentlemen are your prisoners at least, till I return from 
 the cellar." 
 
 After a few minutes absence, he again entered the room 
 with half a dozen of his men carrying two kegs. 
 
 " Now, gentlemen," said the officer, " you are at liberty. 
 Should I hereafter think it necessary to prosecute you for 
 obstruction, you can be easily found. I have received a 
 written information of two casks or kegs of un permitted 
 liquor having been deposited in your cellar, reverend sir, 
 by one James Gallinach of Longh Devnish, and accord 
 ingly, have seized these two casks, believing them to be 
 the same, and shall detain them till such time as my in- 
 
182 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 spector may call upon you, sir, in open court, to show cause 
 why you may not be fined in the penalty of one hundred 
 pounds sterling for attempting to defraud his majesty s 
 revenue. I came here, reverend sir, to discharge my duty ; 
 and however painful it may have been to me, under the 
 circumstances, yet was I bound to execute it faithfully, or 
 lose my commission. Miss Cantwell will doubtless explain 
 to you, when she recovers from the effects of this very 
 disagreeable mistake, how friendly were my intentions in 
 this unlucky affair. As to the violence offered myself per 
 sonally, I pardon it ; for the rest, the law must take its 
 course. Take up the liquor," he continued, turning to 
 his men, " and proceed to your quarters." 
 
 During this somewhat prosy speech, which Joice thought 
 necessary to deliver, for certain weighty reasons, in pres 
 ence of his men, and which he enunciated in the style of 
 a conqueror addressing the inhabitants of a conquered city, 
 the reverend Baxter and his son stood facing each other 
 in the centre of the room, with their eyes cast down, their 
 arms folded on their breasts, and their heads bent in utter 
 desolation of spirit. Neither seemed to move the smallest 
 muscle of his body, till they found themselves completely 
 alone ; and then the son, raising his eyes leisurely and fur 
 tively till they rested on his father s half-concealed face, 
 said, in a coarse, hollow voice, 
 
 " Well, sir, this is a devilish pretty pickle the Rector s 
 family has got into, eh isn t it ? " 
 
 " It s painful to flesh and blood, my son," replied the 
 minister ; " but religion will teach us to bear it with pa 
 tience and resignation." 
 
 " You thought my aunt was an angel, because she read 
 the Bible, dressed in black, sang psalms, and attended the 
 Sunday-school, eh didn t you?" 
 
 " All flesh is grass, and the grass withereth," observed 
 the Rector. 
 
 "Very good, sir; and will you continue to commit 
 smugglers to jail after this night ? " 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 183 
 
 " You speak bitterly, Archibald," replied the Rector ; 
 "you require the aid of religion to sustain you in these 
 trials of the spirit." 
 
 "Ha, ha ! " laughed the agent, in a tone of deep derision? 
 as he walked towards the door. "You re at the old tricks 
 again ha, ha ! religion hypocrisy you mean." And the 
 last word was barely audible as the young gentleman dis 
 appeared. 
 
184 SHANDY M GUIRE, OB 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A PIOUS LANDLORD DIRECTING HIS AGENT HOW HE MAY 
 BEST ADVANCE THE SPIRITUAL AND TEMPORAL INTER 
 ESTS OF HIS TENANTS. 
 
 IN an arm-chair, near a window of his agent s office at 
 the Moor, early in the forenoon of the Thursday of the 
 week following the October fair, sat Colonel Templeton. 
 He was engaged perusing various papers which his agent 
 handed him very respectfully from time to time, and 
 seemed, by his approving nods as he laid them down 
 again upon the table, to be well pleased with their con 
 tents. 
 
 Colonel Terapleton, as he now appears before the reader, 
 sitting opposite his worthy agent, was about forty-five 
 years of age, of the middle size, a little inclined to corpu 
 lency, of florid complexion, bald forehead, fair hair, gray 
 eyes, and beardless as a boy of fifteen. Colonel Tem 
 pleton was a high Conservative in politics, a Transcen- 
 dentalist in religion (we borrow the word from the dic 
 tionary of religions for the year 1847), an Orangeman by 
 public profession, a member of the Carlton Club, a whipper- 
 in of the Tories, a retailer of Irish murders and riots in 
 the House of Commons, and an avowed and declared 
 enemy of the Catholics of Ireland. 
 
 His tenants were for the most part members of the 
 Catholic church, and his habits of life, while he remained 
 during the parliamentary recesses at his splendid country 
 seat of Packenam Hall, led him to visit them very often. 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 185 
 
 Indeed, his time and attention were almost exclusively 
 devoted to the conversion of his poor misguided people. 
 He provided tracts for them on every possible subject of 
 religious controversy, and distributed them himself per 
 sonally. He made it a rule to let no day pass without 
 giving them spiritual instruction in some shape or form. 
 During this intercourse with his tenantry, he often met 
 Father Domnick going or returning from a sick-call or a 
 station, and as often received the good man s " Good-morn 
 ing, colonel pleasant weather hope you find your 
 tenantry comfortable and happy." This mode of address 
 gave the colonel considerable annoyance ; he would much 
 rather pass the priest without a word of recognition than 
 hear him speak with such nonchalance such manifest 
 indifference. 
 
 Father Domnick had studied long and well the charac 
 ter of Colonel Templeton : he observed closely all his 
 actions, made strict inquiries as to what he said and did 
 during his daily visits amongst his people, obtained 
 information the earliest and surest on every matter of 
 importance, and was thus enabled to thwart him in every 
 attempt he made to tamper with the religious convictions 
 of his hearers. 
 
 Colonel Templeton was perfectly sensible of the supe 
 rior advantages the priest enjoyed, in possessing the 
 unbounded confidence of his flock, arid of the eagerness 
 with which every little incident was carried to his ears ; 
 yet he hoped to make his station in society, his wealth as 
 a benefactor, and his influence as a landlord, achieve what 
 his teaching could not effect. With an income of 24,000 
 a year, what could he not accomplish ? So thought the 
 pious colonel ; and so he persevered day after day, with 
 might and main, to break down the ramparts within which 
 old Babylon had ensconced herself; but all in vain. Fa 
 ther Domnick, never asleep at his post, always peeped out 
 from the watch-tower above just at the most critical mo- 
 
186 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 ment, and scared the besieger from the walls, by alarming 
 the unconscious inhabitants. 
 
 The colonel found, after all the kindness he had shown 
 his Catholic tenantry, all the Bibles and tracts, all the 
 ploughs and harrows, meal and blankets he had distributed 
 amongst the starving poor, as bribes to induce them to 
 abandon their old faith, that he had scarcely advanced 
 a single step in the work of conversion. The everlasting 
 reply to all his soul-saving entreaties was, 
 
 " Yes, yer honor, sartinly we ll ax his reverence, an if 
 he lets us, we ll go to church in a thousan welkims ; shure 
 we ll do our best, yer honor." 
 
 " His reverence ! " he would often reply, when his pa 
 tience was completely worn out. " Why should you ask 
 his reverence, when a higher power calls you ? Will you 
 forever suffer yourselves to be trampled on by priests? 
 Have you no eyes, nor tongue, nor will, nor intellect of 
 your own to use, but as he wills it ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, yer honor," the poor terrified creature would 
 exclaim ; " indeed, it s true what yer honor says, for sure 
 I often tell the wife there the same thing, when she scowlds 
 me about not goin to my duty. * Maybe, siz I, Betty, 
 it s long afore the priest d gie me a plough or a pair i 
 blankets for goin to the chapel, not all as one as his honor 
 the colonel for goin to church. " 
 
 " Well, sir, and why do you not come to church, if it 
 were only to show your gratitude for the kindness ?" 
 
 " Oh, begorra, yer honor, I d lake to ax Father Dom- 
 nick s leave first." 
 
 "Merciful powers above! Father Domnick s leave to 
 save your soul ! " 
 
 " Sartinly, yer honor, I know that, av coorse ; but then 
 it s not lucky to fall out with the clargy, ony way throth 
 that s past denyin , yer honor : shure there s Murtagh Din- 
 wartaugh down there, a son av ould Shemashen Dinwar- 
 taugh-more, and " 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 187 
 
 " Stop, stop ! go away, away I ll hear none of your 
 superstitions. Good heavens ! what a miserable and de 
 graded people." And the good colonel, baffled and vexed 
 beyond expression, would hasten out of the house, beyond 
 the reach of Dinwartaugh s melancholy story. 
 
 Whilst the stranger, perhaps, could see nothing in this 
 willing and profound submission to church authority but 
 the effects of a slavish dread of a despotic and tyrannical 
 system of ecclesiastical government, deriving its only force 
 from the ignorance and superstition of its subjects, the 
 colonel whose long intimacy with the Irish Catholics 
 had made him a more accurate estimator of their feelings, 
 their dispositions, their habits, and their thoughts saw 
 an unswerving faith founded on the promises of God, a 
 warm and holy attachment to their pastors, originating in 
 their reverence for their sacred character, increased by the 
 remembrance of their constancy under centuries of perse 
 cution, and perpetuated by the continual administration 
 of a multiplicity of sacraments, all hidden under the 
 appearance of a total abandonment to the will of their 
 superiors. He never hoped, like the charlatans of the 
 present day, to succeed in his scheme of proselytism by 
 merely rousing the people to a sense of the degradation in 
 which their priests had kept them no; such a course 
 might, he believed, be perhaps auxiliary, but his great de 
 pendence was on his wealth, and his power to bribe the 
 pliant and persecute the stubborn. 
 
 Notwithstanding these darker features in the character 
 of Colonel Templeton, he was nevertheless possessed of 
 not a few redeeming qualities. On the bench he was an 
 honest and upright magistrate, never permitting his feel 
 ings as a religious bigot, or a political partisan, to influence 
 his decisions. Nor was he ever known to eject a tenant 
 from his farm without at least some legal cause trifling, 
 perhaps, it might often be but still a legal cause. 
 
 And now to our story again. 
 
188 SHANDY M GUIRE, OB 
 
 " And this ejectment, No. 27, is this to be proceeded 
 with?" inquired the colonel. 
 
 " As you may be pleased to direct, sir," responded Cant- 
 well, submissively. 
 
 "The arrears are of long standing seven years, I 
 believe why did you not endeavor to recover them 
 before ? " 
 
 " I really cannot say I think in fact, I believe I 
 quite overlooked the affair." 
 
 " The man has paid his rent, I perceive, very punctually 
 up to, and ever since that time is it not so ? " 
 
 "Very much so, indeed, sir. I regret exceedingly he 
 has become so rebellious of late as not to merit our for 
 bearance : otherwise I should hesitate to proceed against 
 him without your direct commands." 
 
 " Rebellious ! how so ? " 
 
 " Why, he has been keeping a Ribbon lodge at his 
 house for the last two years, I m informed by very respect 
 able authority." 
 
 "Ribbon lodge strange James Connor of Tubberna- 
 siggart is an old man, is he not ? got sons, perhaps, who 
 manage the business eh ? " 
 
 "No, sir, I m not aware that he has. There is a man in 
 that neighborhood, however, who spends his time chiefly 
 at Connor s, and is a captain of Ribbonmen perhaps he 
 is chief-manager." 
 
 " Very likely can you tell his name ? " 
 
 " Yes ; he is called Andy, or Shandy M Guire." 
 
 " Shandy M Guire ! " repeated the colonel ; " I have 
 heard that name very often before, I fancy. Was he not 
 in the habit of maltreating the Bible Readers of this dis 
 trict when he found them out in the mountains I think 
 eh ? " 
 
 "The same," replied the agent. "You may remember 
 he was accused of making the Bible Reader drunk, and 
 then leaving him in that state, at this hall-door, during 
 your last visit." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 189 
 
 "Yes, yes; I distinctly recollect ha, that s a danger 
 ous fellow. He should be seen to, Mr. Cantwell. Well 
 but as 1 was just going to remark if we turn out 
 this James Connor, there may be some difficulty and delay 
 in finding a successor : there are already a number of 
 small farms on the estate unoccupied, and few Protestants 
 willing to take them even at a reduced rent. We must 
 be cautious, Mr. Cantwell ; land is too valuable to be left 
 waste." 
 
 " These farms will be all occupied, I assure you, colonel, 
 in the course of the ensuing spring. The Catholics who 
 held them have, to be sure, been threatening a few Prot 
 estant applicants with house-burning, if they attempted to 
 take possession ; but that feeling of revenge is rapidly 
 subsiding. No, no, colonel there is no fear whatever ; 
 we shall easily find a successor for Jemmy Connor." 
 
 " A Protestant, of course ? " inquired the landlord. 
 
 " Oh, certainly of course," replied the agent. 
 
 "Have there been any applications since you served him 
 with the process?" again inquired the colonel; "if not, 
 you should be less urgent in bringing the action before 
 the court." 
 
 " Why, yes ; there was an application, I believe I think 
 (Cantwell turned over a page or two of a memorandum- 
 book) yes, I m right ; here is an application from one 
 Daniel Doogan, a butcher, from near Letterkenny, and a 
 man of good character, I understand." 
 
 " A Protestant ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir, and a convert. He can be well recommended, 
 he says." 
 
 " Very good very good," observed the colonel ; " well, 
 you will manage the affair as prudently as possible. Of 
 course, you understand these matters best ; but take care, 
 Mr. Cantwell, very particular care, that you have, in all 
 cases, legal cause for proceeding, as property-agent, against 
 these unfortunate people." 
 
190 SHANDY M GUIRE, OK 
 
 " Colonel Templeton," replied his agent, with much 
 apparent sincerity, " I trust I shall always endeavor, to the 
 extent of my poor abilities, to study your interests as a 
 landed proprietor ; while, at the same time, I shall scrupu 
 lously guard and protect your reputation as a munificent 
 benefactor of the deserving poor of your estate. I hope, 
 colonel, I shall ever feel as sensibly alive as I now do, to 
 the awful responsibility you had confidence enough to 
 place in me." 
 
 " Why, yes, Mr. Cantwell, it is indeed, no doubt, a great 
 responsibility very great responsibility. Of course, I 
 had confidence in you very great confidence. I knew 
 your father well., I knew he instilled into your young 
 mind the precepts of our holy religion, taught you the 
 great morality of the Gospel, and the faith that should 
 create and preserve it in your heart through life. Yes, 
 sir why should I not have confidence in you? why 
 not?" 
 
 The agent bowed low, and then was preparing to ex 
 press his gratitude still more, when a servant entered, and 
 handed him a slip of paper with pencil-marks on it. 
 
 "Let him wait," said Cantwell, after looking for an in 
 stant at the paper, and then at the colonel, as if he 
 doubted what to say. " Let him wait I m engaged at 
 present." 
 
 " No, no see him directly, Mr. Cantwell ; it may be 
 some matter of importance. Business should never be 
 put off. I shall await your return." 
 
 In the entrance-hall stood the sergeant of revenue-police. 
 
 " Come in here to this room, sergeant," said Cantwell ; 
 "it s more private. And now what s your business? 
 Quick as possible the colonel s waiting in the office." 
 
 " Lieutenant Joice sent me up to tell you, sir, that little 
 affair is hushed up all settled." 
 
 " Which affair the seizure ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; it s all over." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 191 
 
 " Possible ! Ha ! how was it effected ? " 
 
 " Why, you see, sir, being brethren of the same lodge, 
 Mr. Joice thought it his duty to forget the hard usage he 
 received on the night of the seizure." 
 
 " Well, well I expected as much ; but what of the fine 
 and the trial ? " 
 
 "All right, sir. He wrote to a ganger of excise in Deny 
 a friend of his, and induced him to sign a permit in 
 your father s favor for two casks of malt spirits. Here it 
 is, sir you see it s antedated : so all s right again. The 
 Rector can send the permit to the inspector, and say he 
 did so rather than satisfy Mr. Joice by giving it to him. 
 So all s over, and no trial. As for Miss Cantwell, the men 
 don t know, and of course never shall from us, the part she 
 had in the transaction." 
 
 " Excellent ! " exclaimed the agent, while his long, thin, 
 sallow face lighted up with joy. 
 
 " Isn t it, though ? " half whispered the smiling police 
 man. 
 
 " By the royal blood of King William ! it s well and 
 handsomely done, sergeant. Ever since that unlucky night, 
 I felt excessively uneasy. If the case had gone to trial, we 
 might leave the country. My father, the Rector of the 
 parish, and the magistrate so notorious for his hostility to 
 smuggling, he to be arraigned himself for the same of 
 fence, and before an open court too ! why, he never 
 would survive it." 
 
 "It s sometimes a fortunate thing to have a brother 
 Orangeman between one and danger," observed the po 
 liceman, with a significant leer. 
 
 " I believe you, sergeant." And the agent laughed and 
 chuckled in his turn also. 
 
 "Certainly, sir; aren t we sworn to defend one another? 
 Of course we re sworn also to protect the revenue ; but 
 then, you know, we can t always keep both." 
 
 "Decidedly not," replied the agent. " The government 
 
192 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 does not expect it. Why, my dear fellow, it is the wish 
 of the government that smuggling be carried on." 
 " Faith, I sometimes think so, from the way it acts." 
 " Not a doubt of it. Don t you see the smuggler is ever 
 and always able to undersell the large distiller by one and 
 often two shillings per gallon. Well, if the government 
 reduced the duty from three shillings, as it is now, to one, 
 the smuggler would be left completely idle. I tell you, 
 brother, it never was the real object of the government 
 entirely to suppress illicit distillation never. The pre 
 ventive force was organized for two very different pur 
 poses. The first was to give employment in the service to 
 young men whose friends had peculiar claims on the gov 
 ernment ; the second was, that it might be a force ready 
 at hand, and prepared at any moment to assist the mil 
 itary, in the event of outbreak or sedition amongst the 
 people." 
 
 " To be sure," said the policeman ; " and why not ? " 
 "And then again," continued Cantwell, "it has been 
 proved before a government commission, by six most re 
 spectable gentlemen of Cork and Derry, that treble the 
 quantity of liquor has been distilled during the course of 
 the last three years, in these two cities, than the malt on 
 which duty was paid could possibly yield. And why? 
 Because the lawful distiller can purchase the liquor, already 
 manufactured, from the smuggler two shillings less than he 
 himself can afford to sell it for, and thus defraud the rev 
 enue in the very teeth of the surveyor of excise. Well, 
 now," added Cantwell, " I mention these facts merely to 
 convince you that government does not look upon the 
 buying of unpermitted liquors as a fraud, particularly by 
 gentlemen like my father, for instance, who purchase it for 
 their own private use. Besides, it is only a penal law, that 
 is, escape if you can if not, pay the fine; but remember, 
 there is no moral guilt attached to the act no, no ; I 
 would be sorry, sergeant, you could suspect my father for 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 193 
 
 one moment of a morally bad act. I know you would 
 not no, of course not." 
 
 "And isn t it surprising, sir, that, holding these opinions, 
 your father could think of punishing the smuggler with so 
 much severity ? " 
 
 " Simply because they sell it make a trade of it 
 don t you see ? " 
 
 " Well, I don t see that so clear," replied the policeman, 
 " but I suppose you re right, sir ; at all events, there s noth 
 ing like keeping the people s nose to the grindstone." 
 
 " Nothing, sergeant ; these damned Irish must be beg 
 gared before they are tamed. Yes ; that, after all, is the 
 great secret. Beggary and starvation is the best recipe 
 for taming a stubborn people. But I must go now the 
 colonel expects me. Good by, sergeant. Give my com 
 pliments to Mr. Joice say I m exceedingly obliged. But 
 stay a moment tell me, do you know the informer ? " 
 
 The policeman shook his head. 
 
 " Oh, I can keep a secret, you know ; besides, there should 
 be none between brother Orangemen." And Cantwell, 
 as he spoke, laid his hand familiarly on his companion s 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Better you wouldn t know," observed the policeman. 
 
 " Nonsense, sergeant do you doubt me ? " 
 
 " Not by any means ; but I m sworn not to reveal the 
 secrets of the service." 
 
 "Pah ! we should have no secrets but our own of the 
 lodge. Come, now I m anxious to know you ll oblige 
 me." 
 
 " Well, I ll trust you. Daniel Doogan s the informer." 
 
 " Doogan the butcher ! " exclaimed Cantwell, in evident 
 astonishment. 
 
 " The same." 
 
 " You may be mistaken." 
 
 " Impossible." 
 
 Why not ? " 
 
 13 
 
194 SHANDY M GUIEE, OR 
 
 " The officer in charge of the Straunlar-party obtained 
 the information from Doogan ; but as the smuggled goods 
 were deposited within Mr. Joice s district, he wrote the 
 information as dictated by Doogan, and gave it him to 
 hand Mr. Joice. Doogan, in passing the barrack on the 
 fair-day, slipped it privately into the hands of the guard." 
 
 " There must be a mistake I cannot believe Doogan 
 to be such a villain." 
 
 " Why, sir, I tell you I myself read the letter, in which 
 Doogan s name Daniel Doogan, the butcher was given 
 as the informer." 
 
 Cantwell s brow gradually darkened, as he reflected how 
 deeply he had admitted the informer to his confidence, and 
 that but a few minutes ago he had recommended him ns 
 the successor of James Connor of Tubbernasiggart. He 
 bent his head, and bit the nail of his little finger violently. 
 
 "No matter," said he ; "very well I ll see to it. no 
 matter now." 
 
 " Take care, sir," said the policeman, observing the in 
 ward struggle the agent maintained with his passion ; 
 "take care you don t reveal the secret. If you do, I 
 may be dismissed the service." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I ll take care," muttered Cantwell, while his 
 face became livid with suppressed rage. " I ll be very cau 
 tious. Good by, sergeant I must wait on the colonel." 
 
 " Where is this Captain O Brien now removed yet ? " 
 inquired Colonel Templeton, as his agent took his place 
 before him, apparently as calm and tranquil as if nothing 
 had occurred to disturb his equanimity. 
 
 "No, sir; he is here still, but superseded in the com 
 mission of the peace, thanks to your influence with the 
 Chancellor." 
 
 " The Viceroy, you mean I don t know the Chancel 
 lor. By the by, ever since the Test and Corporation Acts 
 were amended, the conservative interest is sinking every 
 day. Formerly, you had only to say to a friend in the 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 195 
 
 ministry, if you only met him in the streets, There is a 
 troublesome Irish fellow in the peace, I wish you could 
 have him dismissed, and the thing was done ; but now you 
 must obtain an interview, and give your reasons. The 
 death of the Duke of York was a terrible blow to the high 
 conservatives, I fear we never will recover from it, 
 and now the Hero Duke, himself, after all our expecta 
 tions, beaten, I may say, in his very first effort. Why, Mr. 
 Cantwell, the times are greatly changed." 
 
 " And what if Canning had been able to maintain office 
 for another year ? why, colonel, the country might now 
 be on the verge of insurrection." 
 
 "Decidedly witness the result of his policy in the tone 
 these Catholic associations are assuming. It s positively 
 frightful." 
 
 "And then this French and American republicanism, 
 creeping in day by day through the press, is quite unset 
 tling the people s ideas of allegiance and submission to the 
 laws." 
 
 " Not a doubt of it. This free exercise of their religion, 
 which Congress has guaranteed to the Irish in America, 
 has not only weakened the power of the Protestant church 
 establishment in England, but will eventually lead to the 
 formation of such a liberal course of policy towards Ire 
 land as may yet end in revolt against the power and influ 
 ence of the aristocracy of the land." 
 
 " I fear it very much," replied the agent. " Only last 
 month one of your tenants told me he should sell out, and 
 leave a country where his children were being brutalized- 
 for want of education, and beggars for want of food, and 
 emigrate to America where both are abundant, where 
 there is no bloated aristocracy to feed on the hearts-blood 
 of the poor, nor despots to make laws for enslaving an 
 ignorant people." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! Mr. Cantwell, he had the boldness to say so, 
 eh ? What would this nation be, if it were capable of 
 
196 SHANDY M GUIBE, OR 
 
 drawing a parallel between its own social condition and 
 that of the United States? What if we educated the 
 masses, and then recognized their right to be consulted in 
 legislative affairs as they do in America ? Why, sir, we 
 should have none but democrats and revolutionists. Our 
 property would be torn from our hands, and ourselves sent 
 beggars on the world. No, no, sir ; if we educate the 
 Irish we can never rule them." 
 
 " I am quite of your opinion, colonel." 
 
 Here the conversation was interrupted for a moment by 
 a servant entering with a request from Mrs. Dowser, that 
 Colonel Templeton would please do her the favor of see 
 ing her for a few minutes in the next room at his earliest 
 convenience. 
 
 " Well," resumed the colonel, after the messenger had 
 retired, " you have said that O Brien is still here." 
 
 " Yes, sir, he is still here ; but my father had a letter 
 
 yesterday from Dr. B n, who, you know, is all-in-all at 
 
 the Castle, and he says O Brien is to be removed imme 
 diately, and sent on foreign service East Indies, I think. 
 It is fortunate, too, that some three or four officers of the 
 same regiment stationed in Clare have lately given the 
 government considerable annoyance about Mr. Vasey Fitz- 
 geral s affairs ; so the thing can be done quietly, without 
 creating any useless or vexatious inquiries." 
 
 The colonel nodded assent, and then added, 
 
 "Irish officers never should be sent here should be 
 sent to England, or on foreign service. The country would 
 be much easier managed by English and Scotch officers, 
 than these hot-blooded patriots, half-bred Protestants, as 
 they are. Where is the advantage of having a detachment 
 of soldiers here for preserving the peace, if they are to be 
 commanded by such men as this O Brien a man who 
 dares stop the reading of a riot-act, when but a moment 
 before an officer of constabulary is felled from his horse ?" 
 
 " Since he came here, things are daily growing worse 
 
TEICKS UPON TEAVELLEES. 197 
 
 and worse," observed Cantwell, with an affectation of sor 
 row that he was obliged to confess it. 
 
 " Humph ! I suppose so," muttered the colonel. 
 
 "You have heard of the narrow escape I had last week? 
 of course you did." 
 
 "No, not a word. Ha! waylaying attempt to mur 
 dereh?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I was set upon by five or six ruffians, who 
 attempted to drown me." 
 
 " Merciful heavens ! " ejaculated the pious man, looking 
 up in astonishment as he spoke. " Drown you ! " 
 
 " Yes, sir drown me. A fellow named Hudy M Getti- 
 gan laid the plot. He induced me, by a promise of im 
 parting certain interesting secrets, to meet him three or 
 four miles from the village. The moment I reached there 
 I was flung into the river, and remember nothing more, 
 than when my senses were leaving me, I got hold of a 
 line or rope, and clung to it. When I awoke to conscious 
 ness on the bank of the river, I found myself in the centre 
 of a circle of dying embers as if a dance of devils had been 
 about my corpse." 
 
 " Heaven protect us ! " said the colonel, devoutly ; " these 
 are perilous times oh, dear ! " 
 
 "Very much so, indeed," responded the agent; "and 
 yet," he added, " when you assured the House of Commons 
 a few weeks ago, that to travel through the remote parts 
 of this district without a posse comitatus of police, was 
 putting your life in danger, you would hardly be credited." 
 
 Colonel Templeton made no reply to the latter observa 
 tion ; he felt that ground was too delicate to tread over 
 again. So affecting to be entirely preoccupied with the 
 case immediately before him, he inquired if Mr. Cantwell 
 had yet discovered the villains engaged in the plot.* 
 
 * It may be well here to remark, that Colonel Templeton, in a 
 speech delivered in the House of Commons at this period, made a very 
 remarkable declaration, to wit, " that even in the north of Ireland, 
 
198 SHANDY M GUIKE, OB 
 
 " None out this Hudy M Gettigan, and he the wretch 
 is prepared, he says, to prove an alibi. Ha, ha!" 
 laughed Cantwell; "he swears he never spoke a word to 
 me on the subject in his life. But the priest will forgive 
 him whatever he swears that s one comfort at least." 
 
 " Of course," replied the colonel ; " and the more readily 
 as the prosecutor happens to be a heretic ha, ha!" 
 And both gentlemen laughed socially together. 
 
 "But how did you ascertain the fellow s name?" in 
 quired the colonel. 
 
 " He told me himself." 
 
 " How when at your first meeting ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and that circumstance, I must confess, staggered 
 me at first a good deal. It struck me he might have 
 assumed a name for the occasion ; but when the fellow was 
 
 particularly in the county Donegal, no Protestant gentleman could 
 safely travel through the remote districts without an escort of police ; 
 so that the noble lord who had preceded him would find himself 
 grievously mistaken, if he thought that agrarian outrages were con 
 fined to one or two counties of the south." Shortly after this sur 
 prising declaration had been bruited about through the newspapers, 
 the colonel returned to visit his estate. Having directed his agent 
 some time before to cut a road through a certain mountainous part 
 of his property, and hearing it was now open to the public, he set out 
 after dinner accompanied by a single servant, in an open conveyance, 
 to examine it himself. Owing to the roughness of the new road, his 
 travelling was necessarily slow, so that before he had reached the 
 extremity of the line, the sun had set, and night was falling fast. He 
 therefore determined to proceed to Killybegs, a small town but a few 
 miles distant, and remain at the hotel for the night, rather than re 
 turn at so late an hour by so coarse and unpleasant a road ; but just 
 as he had reached a most dreary and desolate spot in the mountains, 
 lie found, to his utter astonishment, that he had only reached a broken 
 bridge swept away by the rains of the preceding week. The good 
 colonel was, no doubt, for some time exceedingly puzzled how to 
 extricate himself from this untoward position. Seeing a country 
 man, however, crossing the river below the bridge on horseback, he 
 resolved, as a last resource, to ask a passage behind him, and send 
 the servant with the carriage round by the next bridge, about six 
 
THICKS UPON TKAVELLERS. 199 
 
 brought before me, all my doubts were dispelled in an 
 instant. He was the same man who met me on the fair- 
 evening : the same thread-bare coat same sightless orb 
 same impediment of utterance. Oh, yes, I could identi 
 fy him in the South Sea Islands ! " 
 
 " Perhaps so. But he must be an idiot to tell you his 
 real name, coming, as he did, on such an errand." 
 
 " The only manner of accounting for this apparent want 
 of caution seems to be that he looked upon me as a dead 
 man, and therefore had little dread of detection. Besides, 
 he was so remarkable a man, that he might have suspected 
 I knew him when he made the appointment, and therefore 
 gave his real name to throw me off my guard." 
 
 " Very likely very likely. But you said you had him 
 committed for the conspiracy ? " 
 
 miles back on the road he had just travelled. The colonel mounted 
 accordingly behind the countryman, and had reached halfway across 
 the stream, holding on for life and death, his arms wound round the 
 man s body, while his heels were jerked up on the horse s flanks to 
 keep them dry, when two gentlemen came dashing down at full trot 
 to the broken bridge. One was Alexander Murray, Esq., of Kelly 
 castle, commonly called Broughton Murray, then spending a few 
 days on his Donegal estate, and the other his law-agent, Mr. Edward 
 Murray of Letterkenny. " Hilloa, my man," shouted the first-named 
 gentleman, "who is that behind you?" "It s Colonel Tempi " 
 " Silence, you villain," muttered the colonel. " I don t know," said 
 the man. " We shall soon know," cried the other, riding up as the 
 colonel slid down from the horse, on the river s bank. " What," 
 cried he, "Colonel Templeton ! " "What," repeated his com 
 panion, "Colonel Templeton! why, colonel, is it possible you 
 here at this hour and place ! what ! without a posse comitatus ! I 
 suspected it was your servant I saw on the opposite bank ; why, my 
 dear colonel, I m surprised you expose yourself in this way it s 
 monstrous ! " We shall not protract the scene ; suffice it that Colo 
 nel Templeton made the interview as short as possible, and the two 
 other gentlemen enjoyed his chagrin exceedingly. When Colonel 
 Templeton again returned to London, he found himself sitting on 
 the back of an old horse, behind a tattered Irishman, in the window 
 of every print-shop in the metropolis. Ed. 
 
200 SHANDY M GUIBE, OK, 
 
 " No, not exactly for that ; for I could hardly prove it, 
 not having seen him at the place appointed. But we had 
 him committed for having Ribbon-papers and bullet-moulds 
 concealed in his house. It will answer the same purpose." 
 
 " Pah ! Mr. Cantwell," exclaimed the colonel, in a half 
 angry tone ; " it will not answer the same purpose. If you 
 convict him of waylaying and attempt to murder a land- 
 agent, don t you see what a case I could make of it in the 
 House, when the social state of Ireland comes up in de 
 bate, and it certainly will next session, as a set-off to 
 emancipation petitions ? " 
 
 " Very true, sir ; I didn t think of that. And would you 
 wish me to indict him for both offences? I fear I really 
 think we cannot succeed in both, but if you wish " 
 
 " Oh, remember," interrupted the colonel hastily, raising 
 his fore-finger to make his words the more emphatic, " re 
 member, Mr. Cantwell, I do not wish you, by any means, 
 to proceed against him or any one else (no, religion forbids 
 us to be revengeful even when we punish), except on legal 
 grounds and respectable evidence. No, no ; all I say, is, if 
 possible, I should prefer having him indicted for both ; that 
 is, remember, if possible and right? 
 
 The colonel rose to take his leave. " As for this Captain 
 O Brien," he added, " we shall see to his removal imme 
 diately." 
 
 " By-the-by, colonel, people talk of his marrying a certain 
 young lady in town here." 
 
 " Ha ! Miss Johnston, perhaps ? " 
 
 "No, no, quite another person. Miss O Donnel, the 
 painter s daughter : you saw her, I think she s staying at 
 General Johnston s." 
 
 " You surprise me she s a Catholic, is she not ? " 
 
 " And a very rigid one. She boasts of her faith most 
 provokingly; and says it s absolutely presumptuous in us 
 to practise Protestantism at all in this land ; that she 
 wonders the skeletons of its martyred dead don t rise up 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 201 
 
 from their graves and scourge us back to England again ! 
 ha, ha, ha!" 
 
 "But will her faith be no obstacle in the captain s way?" 
 
 " No ; he s prepared to make himself quite agreeable." 
 
 " What ! get married by the priest ? " 
 
 So I m informed." 
 
 " Very exacting, is she not ? " 
 
 " Why, colonel, if I m not much mistaken, she would not 
 marry George of England otherwise than according to 
 the rites of the Catholic Church. She absolutely laughs 
 at Protestantism, as a country bumpkin laughs at a clown 
 in a comedy. She is the most provoking woman I ever 
 met." 
 
 " Humph ! well, we cannot tolerate such a marriage, 
 Mr. Cantwell, certainly not. Marriage of Protestant and 
 Catholic by a priest is a serious misdemeanor, punishable 
 by fine of 500, or imprisonment in the common jail for 
 a period of five years. It s a most salutary enactment, and 
 in these times very requisite for the maintenance of Protes 
 tant ascendency. If the priest violate the law, he should 
 suffer the penalty and he shall, Mr. Cantwell. Ye.s, sir, 
 it is our duty our conscientious duty, as loyal subjects, 
 to enforce the enactment." 
 
 " Certainly, colonel, it must be seen to." 
 
 " Very well, Mr. Cantwell, good morning. I must see 
 this Mrs. Dowser, and then make my usual visit to my 
 tenants before dinner. Good morning, sir." 
 
 Cantwell had hardly taken his seat again before the 
 desk, when Coulson, the bailiff, entered, and throwing him 
 self on a chair with the air of a man whose services give 
 him a right to be familiar with his employer, said, in a 
 husky, angry tone, 
 
 "Curse that rascal, M Gettigan, he denies everything 
 you re completely at his mercy." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed the agent, with a look of disap 
 pointment, "will he not return Connor s receipt?" 
 
202 SHANDY M GUIBE, OR 
 
 " He swears he never got a receipt from you." 
 
 " Did he never meet me at the old castle ? " 
 
 " No, never." 
 
 " Never gave me a letter from Mary Connor ? " 
 
 " Never. He says it s all a mistake that he wasn t 
 the man at all that he was in Glasgow at the time." 
 
 " Did you tell him the jailer had instructions to let him 
 escape, if he returned the receipt ? Did you say so ? " 
 
 " Yes, and every other thing I could think of, as an in 
 ducement, but to no purpose. He only laughed at me, and 
 said it was all a mistake." 
 
 "And what s to be done?" demanded Cantwell, rising 
 from the desk, and pacing the office in great perplexity. 
 " What s to be done now ? Connor s case must go on ; 
 the colonel is already in possession of the whole affair; I 
 told him of Connor s keeping a Ribbon lodge in his house. 
 We can t drop it it must go on. If that receipt appear 
 on the trial, the mystery of the fair-night will be exposed, 
 and I dismissed. What s to be done, Coulson ? " 
 
 " Can t say," replied the bailiff. 
 
 " Are you positive Jemmy Connor never got the receipt 
 from M Gettigan ? " 
 
 " As positive as that I see that sky above us." 
 
 " Then M Gettigan has it still. Well, if the fear of trans 
 portation for these papers and bullet-moulds don t oblige 
 him to return the receipt, I know of no other means to 
 adopt. I have acted very imprudently in submitting Con 
 nor s ejectment process to the colonel before your return 
 from the jail ; but now the time for caution is past we 
 must proceed. Perhaps, after all, the receipt is lost. I 
 wish to heaven it may be so. Leave me now, Coulson ; I 
 wish to be alone." 
 
 When the bailiff closed the door behind him, Cantwell 
 folded his arms, and continued to pace the office as before. 
 
 " Perdition ! " he muttered, clenching his teeth and 
 stamping on the floor, "to think I could be overreached 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 203 
 
 in this way ! Heaven and earth ! to think how that girl 
 has fooled me ! nay, treated me like the dog she called me 
 ha! and yet she may escape through my fingers. But 
 
 no, by (and he swore a fearful oath), no even should 
 
 her father still hold possession should I even lose the 
 colonel s agency, I shall repay her for her favors of the fair- 
 night. Yes, that very Sassenach dog will leave the marks 
 of his teeth upon her yet. I shall yet blast her reputation 
 as effectually as I did that of Mary Curran ; " and a ghastly 
 smile came over his countenance as he anticipated the suc 
 cess of his hellish design. 
 
 As we intend, at the close of this chapter, to bid adieu 
 to Mr. Archibald Cantwell for a few days, we shall now 
 relate a little incident that occurred, by way of episode to 
 the preceding very important official secrets, and then leave 
 him to manage, as best he may, his own private affairs. 
 
 It happened that Mr. Archibald Cantwell thought it 
 necessary to consult with his bailiff again that night or 
 rather late in the evening, for it was not yet completely 
 dark on some of his official duties; and for that purpose 
 had taken a near cut to the bailiff s house by the back en 
 trance to the demesne. He had opened a wicket, and was 
 turning round to close it again, when some one started 
 from out the shadow of the gate pillar, and, with the elas 
 ticity of a tiger, sprung upon him, fastening his fingers in 
 his cravat, and dragging him with irresistible force down 
 into the deep ditch. 
 
 " Ha, ha ! I swore it I swore it by the five crosses," 
 cried his assailant. " I swore I d kill ye. Ha, ha ! deil s 
 cure to ye deil s cure to ye." 
 
 " Villain ! villain ! let me go," muttered Cantwell, half 
 strangled under the grasp of his enemy. 
 
 " Ha ! I swore it at Mary Curran s grave. You mur- 
 dhered Mary Curran, and made the tears fall from the ould 
 man s eyes. Ha ! you made an ould priest cry. Ha, ha ! 
 I swore I d kill ye." 
 
204 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 Cantwell struggled in vain to throw off his antagonist. 
 Every instant his strength was failing, his voice becoming 
 weaker and weaker, and in all likelihood never would have 
 used it again, had not a horseman riding past been attracted 
 by the high breathing and half-suffocated sounds proceed 
 ing from the deep ditch. 
 
 " Hilloa ! " said the rider, suddenly reining in his horse ; 
 " what noise is that ? " 
 
 The assailant raised his head to listen, keeping his fingers 
 still twisted in Cantwell s cravat. 
 
 " What s the meaning of this ? " repeated the horseman, 
 approaching nearer, and preparing to alight. 
 
 The assailant sprung instantly upon the road, muttering 
 to himself, " Oh, by the powers, it s Father Domnick it s 
 Father Domnick ! " and clearing the wall on the opposite 
 side at a single bound, became invisible among the bushes. 
 
 We need not inform the reader that Cantwell s assailant 
 was " Dick the Omedaun," and his rescuer Father Dom 
 nick, just then returning from a station. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 205 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 BEING THE SHORTEST CHAPTER IN THE BOOK. 
 
 COLONEL TEMPLETON found Mrs. Dowser in the recep 
 tion-room alone, anxiously awaiting his coming, and bathed 
 in tears. 
 
 "I am really very sorry, Mrs. Dowser," said the colonel, 
 feelingly "very sorry to find you in tears. Well, but 
 religion should teach you to bear these little crosses and 
 troubles of life with more patience and resignation ; " and 
 he quoted a passage from the Holy Scripture. 
 
 " Oh, sir," replied the lady, " I fear I shall never see him 
 again." 
 
 "Don t be so dejected, Mrs. Dowser; you certainly shall 
 see him again." 
 
 " But he may be starved by this time, sir." And the lady 
 sobbed bitterly. 
 
 " Starved ! " ejaculated the colonel. 
 
 "Yes, sir; I fear it very much. Just have the goodness 
 to read that letter." And the lady placed the document in 
 his hand. 
 
 The colonel sat down, and read as follows : 
 
 "DEAR KATE, MY BELOVED WIFE, 
 
 " I m a dead man, or as near it as possible. You might 
 say that if you saw me ; but you won t, till I m a corpse, 
 nor then either, perhaps. Not that I m to say heart-sick ; 
 no, but wasting away by the pure dint of starvation. Not 
 a morsel of food-kind ever entered my lips since I came 
 
206 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 here, but lumpers (potatoes) and poteen not a morsel ! 
 Not even a drop of milk, but a kind of buttermilk that 
 you used to give the pigs, and that only once a day, as a 
 sort of dainty. I asked them for a grain of sugar to punch 
 my liquor ; but not a taste would they give. Yesterday, 
 after much begging and praying, they sent four or five 
 miles after a looking-glass, that I might see myself in it ; 
 and in troth, Kate, I m not to say better yet of the shock 
 I got by that same. Ten days ago I was some odds of 
 eighteen stone weight, and now you might blow a spittle 
 through me. I m certain I m not as heavy as Tommy 
 Reed, the dancing-master. And that reminds me of an 
 other misery I endure I mean in regard of the same 
 dancing. Every night since I came, there s what they call 
 the Roscess batther, a sort of dance, or rather a welting 
 of the floor as hard and quick as a tuck-mill could pound 
 it. Well, I must join them, too, av coorse. I know well 
 it s kill me they re strivin to do, but I daren t refuse ; if I 
 did, maybe it s to the crows they d give me. When I beg 
 of them for God s sake to let me rest awhile, it s laugh at 
 me they do, make me drink another egg-shell of whiskey 
 (for there s no other measure to be had), and then drag 
 me up and to it again. I had to curse King William and 
 all his generation, drink the Pope s health, and Repale of 
 the Union, about a thousand times this week, and you 
 know, Kate, I must be in a poor way when I d do that ; 
 but I daren t refuse. There s a fellow here they call 
 * Shandy something ; and if there s a devil on earth, he s 
 one. Remember, if I die before I see you again, I leave 
 my death on him. 
 
 "Now, Kate dear, if you have any of the old regard 
 remaining for the poor skeleton that s writing this, go to 
 the Rector, or the colonel if he s come yet, and tell them 
 the deplorable state I m in ; tell them a loyal brother is 
 dyin by inches, or rather, wastin away at the rate of a 
 hundred a week, and can t, according to any reasonable 
 
TRICKS UPON TKAVELLERS. 207 
 
 calculation, last longer than eight or ten days more ; tell 
 them I have nothing under the canopy of heaven to live 
 on but lumpers and poteen, and they ll surely let that 
 scoundrel Devlin go. As long as he s in jail, I ll be the 
 sufferer. Kate, dear, I used to be cross sometimes, when 
 you d happen to vex me; but I m a changed man now. 
 You ll never have reason to complain of me again. Have 
 mercy on me now, in my wretched condition, and do all 
 you can to get me out of this. They promise to let me go 
 as soon as Devlin is liberated. Make haste make haste, 
 dear Kate, or my bones will be through my skin before 
 any help can reach me. 
 
 " Your starved but loving husband, 
 
 W. DOWSER." 
 
 " P. S. As I don t know where I am, being carried here 
 blindfolded, so I don t know where to date my letter from, 
 or what day of the week it is, since they niver let me be 
 sober an hour together since I came. I got leave to write 
 this, as you see, on the back of a letter I had in my pocket; 
 but they won t let me seal it till they read it, and that same 
 can t be done till Shandy comes in the evening. Don t 
 forget me, Kate. Farewell." 
 
 " Rather unpleasant, I must confess, Mrs. Dowser," said 
 the colonel, refolding the letter. " Have you any suspicion 
 of where he may be ? " 
 
 " Not the least, colonel," replied Mrs. Dowser ; " if I 
 had, I would travel, if it were a hundred miles, night and 
 day on my bare feet, to see him once more." 
 
 " He was carried off on horseback was he not ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir; and King William was found at his own 
 stable-door next morning, covered with foam, and almost 
 worried to death. He must have been taken to a great 
 distance, for the poor brute was very tired." 
 
 " Humph ! very likely. It was a bold thing of these 
 Ribbonrnen to break up the lodge as they did, and then 
 
208 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 carry off Mr. Dowser on his own horse too as a hos 
 tage for the safety of this Devlin." 
 
 " Oh, sir, if you would only liberate Devlin, my husband 
 would return, and all would be right again," said Mrs. 
 Dowser, imploringly. 
 
 " But do you not see, madam, what a victory these Rib- 
 bonmen would obtain if Devlin were liberated ? and 
 besides, it would encourage the rebels in the commission 
 of crime. It s an awkward case, Mrs. Dowser." 
 
 " Oh, sir, but remember he s a loyal brother a faithful 
 member of our holy church," rejoined the lady, raising 
 her hands in earnest supplication. 
 
 "Of his loyalty, my dear madam, you can judge best 
 from this letter. His malediction of the great and good 
 King William, is but a poor passport to our sympathy." 
 
 "Oh, but think of the danger, sir; his life was in their 
 hands only for that " 
 
 " He should have sacrificed it in the sacred cause," 
 replied the colonel, with the solemn emphasis of a Cove 
 nanter. " However," he added, rising from the chair, " the 
 police of the district are now in search of Mr. Dowser ; 
 should they not succeed in finding him, call upon me on 
 Monday next. We may then make some arrangements 
 for effecting his liberation." The colonel quitted the 
 room ; and Mrs. Dowser, after wiping away the traces of 
 her tears, returned home in somewhat better spirits, and 
 yet not a little surprised to find Colonel Templeton so 
 apathetic in the cause of the martyred lion of Lodge 516. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 209 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE CROSS AND BEADS. KATHLEEN KENNEDY. 
 
 COLONEL TEMPLETON, after his short interview with 
 Mrs. Dowser, stepped into his gig, and rode out as usual, 
 to pay a morning visit to his tenants, and commune with 
 them on the saving truths of the Gospel. 
 
 In the box of the vehicle were deposited sundry copies 
 of the Old and New Testaments, bearing the words " Kil- 
 dare-street Society " stamped on their covers ; and by their 
 side a number of controversial tracts, under different titles, 
 viz., " Antichrist Exposed," " Romanism Defeated," "The 
 Man of Sin cloven down by Five Blows of the Holy Bible," 
 "Popish Idolatry," "Daisies of Piety," "Primroses of De 
 votion," " Dahlias of Faith," &c., &c., all written in a sim 
 ple, easy style, to suit the humblest capacities. 
 
 The good man, as he rode along, felt very happy. He 
 was laboring on a great mission journeying, like another 
 Barnabas (the difference being only perceptible in his 
 estate and mode of travelling), to convert the Gentiles to 
 the faith. It was a happy, blissful reflection ; and then, 
 if his thoughts turned back for a moment to the busy me 
 tropolis he had so lately quitted, why, it was only to con 
 gratulate himself the more, in having exchanged the 
 haunts of vice and infamy the vortex of aristocratic 
 corruption for the quiet, retired little vineyard of souls 
 intrusted to his care. " The Bible," he whispered to him 
 self, complacently, " might be regarded as the seed, and 
 the pamphlets the little watering-pots of religion." And 
 he drove on the faster for the thought. 
 14 
 
210 .SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 In the fields, on either side of the road as he passed 
 along, he saw his tenants busily employed at the harvest 
 some reaping, others housing or stacking their grain. 
 Children of tender age were to be seen here and there, 
 gleaning the few ears of corn that lay on the field after 
 the reapers; and others still younger, seated in groups 
 round small peat fires, roasting in the hot ashes their little 
 feasts of new potatoes. These hardy children had no 
 foolish trumpery of dress, like their proud little brethren 
 of England, to cover the extremities of their persons 
 no ; they had been taught from their cradles, like the free 
 Indians of North America, to look upon freedom from 
 such embarrassments as a privilege of their race. How- 
 very pleasant it was for Colonel Templeton to reflect, that 
 all these children he saw in groups around him, might, in 
 a certain sense, be considered his own property ! Certain 
 ly. Was not the soil his own and did he not propagate 
 them on it ? Did he not force them, as we might say, on 
 that nutritious esculent, the potato ? Could not the po 
 tato be regarded as a sort of manure for the growth of 
 human flesh f 
 
 And then he had another cause for self-gratulation ; for 
 what was his object in raising them ? not the lust of 
 riches, not the sordid motives that influence the Hack 
 slave-owner, no, it was the glory of God and of Eng 
 land. They were destined to glorify their Creator, under 
 his guidance, by walking in the pure light of a reformed 
 gospel, and a retrenched and purified faith, and to glorify 
 England by contributing a portion of their labor to the 
 support of the most magnificent oligarchical government 
 in the world, and a portion of their blood to fight the 
 battles of an empire, the proudest and most powerful the 
 sun ever shone upon. Surely such reflections were enough 
 to make any man s heart glad ; so the colonel raised his 
 head higher, and trotted on at an accelerated pace. 
 
 When about three miles from the village of Donegal, 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 211 
 
 he came in view of a small hut, or hovel, built on the road 
 side, on a barren moor, and of very wretched appearance. 
 This hut was scarcely ten feet square, very low so low 
 that a boy of sixteen could not enter without stooping, 
 built of round rough rocks, and covered with green sods. 
 An aperture cut in the roof served for a chimney ; the 
 door was made of willow twigs, platted close together in 
 the style of a wicker basket, having its interstices filled 
 with mud to keep out the cold, and the window was a 
 round opening, from which a stone was taken in the side 
 wall, and through which the bottom f an old hat was 
 visible. It was the habitation of Kathleen Kennedy, one 
 of Mr. Ebenezer Goodsoul s converts. Whether that gen 
 tleman was correct in placing her as he did to his account 
 with the Kildare-street Society, is yet to be seen, but cer 
 tain it is, she was poor enough to be converted. The 
 colonel alighted, fastened the reins of the bridle to a 
 stunted tree on the road-side, and approached the house. 
 
 Against the gable of the hut, four or five children (the 
 eldest of whom could not be more than seven years) were 
 busily engaged building a little stack of half-saved turf, 
 that lay scattered about the premises. The two eldest 
 had apparently taken charge of the strncture, for while 
 they prepared and laid on the material, the younger ones 
 were hurrying to and fro in the capacity of servers or at 
 tendants. It was no matter of surprise to Colonel Tem- 
 pleton, to observe how cheerfully they performed their 
 work, notwithstanding the inconvenience they must have 
 felt from the long, pointed tatters of their dress, that now, 
 saturated with the bog-water through which they passed 
 occasionally, flapped heavily against their legs and sides. 
 No, it was the proof of a hardy race, and of a patient, 
 enduring people. It was refreshing to think how inured 
 to privations these children would be in after years, when 
 their country called them away to fight its battles amid 
 the snows of the Cariadas, or under the broiling sun of the 
 
212 SHANDY M GTJIRE, OR 
 
 Indies. With what pride could England point to the 
 future heroism and fortitude of these children, and with 
 what pride would their own hearts be hereafter filled, 
 when, returning perhaps from Canada, or Aifghanistan, 
 they received a smile from their sovereign, and three 
 pence half-penny a day from their country, as an acknowl 
 edgment of their services ! Happy children of the white 
 slaves of the north! fortunate starvelings of a beggared 
 race ! innocent progeny of brutalized, dust-kissing, 
 scorned, and branded helots ! ye little knew what a 
 glorious influence you might yet exercise over the des 
 tinies of the British empire ! 
 
 Within the threshold of the hut, and on the floor, sat 
 an infant mumbling a potato. Opposite the child, and but 
 a few yards beyond the hovel, its mother was busy wash 
 ing in a stream that ran murmuring and rippling by the 
 wayside. The child had now eaten as much of the po 
 tato as satisfied his present cravings of hunger, and began 
 to throw it on the ground and catch it up again in the 
 wantonness of a playful .spirit, laughing merrily at the 
 sport. Beside the door lay a little lean dog, watching the 
 child intently, and licking his lips, as the precious mor 
 sel rolled over close to where he squatted. At length, 
 the child s excitement increasing, it threw the potato on 
 the ground with more violence than usual, causing it to 
 roll over within the dog s paws. The little starved animal, 
 no longer able to withstand the temptation, caught up the 
 potato, and ran away round the house with its long tail be 
 tween its legs, evincing by its cowardly and precipitate 
 flight the consciousness of having done a very dishonest, 
 as well as disreputable act. The child, robbed of its play 
 thing so suddenly, screamed, and cried bitterly to its moth 
 er, as if in appeal against the daring injustice. The poor 
 woman ran over immediately to pacify the infant, and 
 taking it up in her arms, said, as she rocked it to and 
 fro, 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 213 
 
 "Hush, alanna ! hush, asthore machreel shure I ll 
 get another for ye, dear; hush now, an I ll bate that nasty 
 Piper." 
 
 " Well, honest woman," began Colonel Templeton, who 
 had followed her to the- door unobserved, and whose voice 
 so near and sudden seemed to startle her not a little 
 " how long has this been standing here ? " 
 
 Kathleen courtesied humbly and respectfully, as turning 
 round, her eye rested on the richly-dressed gentleman be 
 fore her ; but she remained silent, being somewhat con 
 fused at the question. 
 
 " When was this cabin built ? " he again demanded. 
 
 " It s up about three weeks after last Candlemas, sir. 
 (Hush, hush, asthore ! " she added, in an undertone 
 " here, Bridget hush alanna boght here, take the wean 
 till I spake to the gentleman.) Indeed, then, sir, it was the 
 good neighbors, God reward them, gathered up here and 
 pit it thegither for us, awhile afther Candlemas last." 
 
 " And where did you live before that time ? " 
 
 " Down there in Minadreen, sir, av ye iver wur in it." 
 
 " And who was your landlord ? " 
 
 " One Colonel Templeton, iv ye iver heerd tell av him ; 
 but I ll warrant did ye, barrin ye re a stranger in these 
 parts." 
 
 The colonel nodded. 
 
 " An indeed, sir, a snug dacent bit av Ian . we had, till 
 misfortin overtuck us ; but shure it s thankful we d ought 
 to be whativer comes : maybe it s our desarvin , maybe it s 
 all for the best." 
 
 " And where is your husband is he living ? " 
 
 " He s livin yet, m tould, Goodness be praised for his 
 marcies ; but am afeerd it ill not be long." Her voice 
 trembled slightly as she spoke. 
 
 " Is he sick ? " 
 
 " Sick enough, sir; they say the docthor s giv him up." 
 
 " Ha ! then he s not at home ? " 
 
214 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 " Noa, noafareer, sir, he s Dot. Poor fella ! he s far away 
 from us with the cowld strangers, that cares little about 
 him, maybe." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " In jail, sir," replied Kathleen, Raising to her eyes a cor 
 ner of the tattered handkerchief that covered her shoulders. 
 " Go into the house, Bridget go in, dear, an bring the 
 childher along with ye. Go in, an don t be gapin at the 
 gentleman, without a totther to cover ye." 
 
 " And why is he in jail, my good woman, eh? Ribbon- 
 ism, I suspect." 
 
 " Noa, indeed then, sir, he niver meddled or made with 
 it, since the priest spoke agin it not say in but many s 
 the time, sir, he was provoked hard enough to join them." 
 
 Ha! well?" 
 
 " Well, sir, I ll tell ye then, as ye axed me it wus for 
 rint an tithe he was pit in. It wus June last wus a two- 
 years, he went with a great gatherin iv the tenants, to give 
 the Recthor a rfwy-day s cuttin i turf; for ye know, sir, 
 the Recthor i the parish is the Agent s father, Mr. Cantwell, 
 an iv coorse, the Recthor has only to call on the colonel s 
 tenants when he wants them. Well, sir, as I was sayin , 
 Ned Kennedy wusn t jist at himself that day, bein only 
 risin out iv a plorisy the week afore; but feen a bit ex 
 cuse the bailie, Mr. Coulson, d take. So aff he had to go 
 with the rest i the neighbors ; an as the day was tarrible 
 warm intirely, Ned, atween the work an the wakeness, got 
 very druthy, an tuck a drink i the bog-wather ; for not a 
 hap orth else he had convanient, barrin he d go to the well 
 that was half a mile or so from the place, an he was 
 ashamed to go there, as he tould me himself afther, for fear 
 the bailie id say it was tired or schemin he was. So, sir, 
 to make a long story short, afther that drink, feen a day s 
 good he iver done since one day up an anither day 
 down, till the bit i Ian wint to rack on us intirely for want 
 i labor, himself a cripple, I may say, an me havin plenty 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 215 
 
 to do to take care i the weans. So last year we wurn t 
 able to pay the rent, an av coorse, we had to lave the 
 place." 
 
 " Did you make your difficulties known to the Agent ? " 
 inquired the colonel. 
 
 " Indeed, then, I did sir ; myself an them four childher 
 ye see there (the little one in the girsah s arms wusn t born 
 then) went up to the Moor, an them an me on our bended 
 knees at his hall-door, begged him for God s sake not take 
 the roof from above my sick husban an my childher, but to 
 give us sparence for another year, an then we d lave it 
 ithout a word. Well, sir, it s hard to forget the answer I 
 got." Kathleen turned her face from her inquisitor, to 
 hide the emotion she endeavored in vain to suppress. 
 
 " Well," said the colonel, " and what reply did he 
 make ? " 
 
 " He tould me," replied Kathleen, in a low voice, broken 
 and husky "he tould me to go to h 11 with my papish 
 brats from about his doore, or he d hunt the dogs on me." 
 
 Both parties were silent for a moment : Kathleen en 
 deavoring to conquer a weakness she wished not to show 
 in the stranger s presence ; the colonel twisting the lash of 
 his whip round his fore-finger, and wondering how sensi 
 tive the low Irish were ! " Well, at all events," thought 
 he, " my Agent is somewhat to blame. He might be suf 
 ficiently zealous in the holy cause, without this open osten 
 tatious severity." 
 
 " But, my good woman, you have not told me all this 
 time why your husband is in jail." 
 
 " I ll tell you that, sir, too. It was afore we left the 
 place. The Recthor an Procthor an I ll warrint a score or 
 more iv pelice, cum up to the house one raornin to lift the 
 tithe. Ned, av coorse, up an tould the Kecthor he cudn t 
 pay it, seein he didn t do a hand s turn for a twelmonth 
 afore, an hadn t a livin cleet iv a baste kine about the 
 house but the goat, that we kept out i the rack av all we 
 
216 SHANDY M GUIRE, OB 
 
 had, to give the drap i nourishin to the childher. The 
 Recthor tould him plurap an plain it wudn t do he d 
 have his tithe wherever it cum from. Faith, an if ye do, 
 siz Ned up to him again, * ye ll get what ye niver give 
 value for, seem I niver entered yer church doore, nor one 
 i my breed, let alone me. * The church is there for ye, 
 my fine fella, siz the Recthor, av ye choose to go. Faith, 
 an siz Ned to him back again, Ye ought to keep up the 
 ould rule, as ye drink, ye pay ; an as I niver made a part 
 i the company or sat at the table, am shure an sartin I ve 
 no right to pay a part i the reckeninV So, sir, one word 
 borrowed another, till the Recthor ordhered the pelice to 
 go in an saize whatever they d get, as a pledge for the 
 tithe. In they cum, sir, an Ned seem it was iv no use to 
 think iv preventin them, stud with his back to the wall, 
 luckin on at the rummagin they made, and niver openin 
 his lips more nor the child there, till the Procthor opened 
 the room doore, an cum down to where myself was lying 
 in with that wean ye see in the girsah s arms, and begun 
 to tear the blankets aff the bed I was streeched on. Don t 
 do that, sir, siz Ned, follyin the Procthor to the room. 
 Silence, ye papish villain, siz the Procthor, or I ll have ye 
 gagged and handcuffed. Oh, sir, for the love i heaven, 
 siz Ned, don t strip the creathur, an her lyin in the state 
 she s in. Begone, ye scoundrel, siz the Procthor; I ll 
 have the tithe if she hadn t the straw to cover her ; let her 
 go into the stable among the rushes, and have her brat av 
 she likes. So with that, sir, the Procthor begins to haul 
 the blanket, and me houldin agin him. Let go the 
 blanket, siz the Procthor. For God s sake, siz I, let me 
 have it for a minit or two, till I get somethin else to cover 
 me. Well, sir, when Ned heerd me screechin for marcy, 
 he cudn t thole it any longer, so liftin a spade-shaft that 
 lay beside the bed, he struck the Procthor over the skull, 
 and levelled him on the floore. Then the Recthor himself, 
 hearin the ruction in the room, run down, an ye may be 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 217 
 
 sure got in a mighty wondherful passion, when he sees the 
 Procthor bleedin . So he ordhered the pelice to take Ned 
 prisoner, an affthey marched him that same minit to Don 
 egal. Nixt mornin Ned was brought handcuffed afore the 
 bench i jistice, and as the Recthor himself was the only 
 magistrate in court, he sentenced him to Lifford jail, where 
 he s lyin since." 
 
 " I doubt very much, my good neighbor," observed the 
 colonel, after Kathleen had finished her somewhat tedious 
 story, " I doubt there s more feeling than truth in this tale." 
 
 Kathleen looked at the stranger (for the colonel was a 
 perfect stranger to her), as if to learn from the expression 
 of his countenance, whether he sympathized in her mis 
 fortunes ; and seeing the incredulous smile upon his face 
 correspond with the words he had just uttered, said, with 
 much unaffected simplicity, 
 
 " A poor body s word s always doubted, sir ; an slmre I 
 can t blame ye for that, for our blissed Saviour himself 
 wusn t bleved, becase he was poor. God help us to bear 
 our trials as he did." 
 
 " But did the Proctor really and actually take the blanket 
 from above you ? " 
 
 " As God is my jidge," exclaimed Kathleen, clasping 
 her hands together, and raising her eyes in appeal to the 
 bright heaven above her, " am tellin ye, sir, the honest 
 truth." * 
 
 "Well very well, my good woman; but do you not 
 see that the law of the land entitled the Recto i* to his tithe ? 
 You may think the treatment you received very harsh, no 
 doubt, but if the church be not supported by the strong 
 arm of the law in asserting its rights and claims, why 
 then you perceive then, ah yes, things would go on 
 very differently. As to your husband s conduct, it was 
 very reprehensible a grievous violation of the law." 
 
 * We state the facts as given in evidence before the court. 
 
218 SHANDY M GUIRE, OK 
 
 "True enough, sir," replied Kathleen, "but maybe if 
 your wife (I ax yer pardon for comparin her to me) was 
 in the same state, ye cud n t help it." 
 
 The colonel smiled at the idea the simple words con 
 veyed. 
 
 " If the Procthor had went up to the kitchen as I wanted 
 him, till I d get my duds about me, poor Ned wudn t lift a 
 hand to him; but he wudn t; he said the rushes was good 
 enough for me. Well, sir, as I was sayin , after Ned was 
 pit in jail, the Agent went through with the jectment he 
 sarved us afore ; sowld all the bits i pleneshin we had, 
 and driv iz out on the wide world, myself an these help 
 less childher. But we oughtn t to complain, sir ; God s 
 good. Shure if we suffer now, maybe our suiferin s ill be 
 less when the long day comes, when there ill be no differ 
 ence atween the rich and the poor. Only for thinkin i 
 that, sir, our hearts id brake long ago. An shure, sir, God 
 niver forgets us, maybe when we re not thinkin av him at 
 all ; wusn t it him (glory be to his holy name !) pit the 
 charity in our neighbors hearts to build up this wee craw 
 here for iz in our diffiquilty ? But am tould, sir," she 
 added, looking inquisitively at her companion, " am tould 
 the colonel himself s come ; maybe he might do somethin 
 for me, if I axed him, av it was only in regard i the 
 childher." 
 
 " Have you ever seen Colonel Templeton ?" 
 
 " Niver, sir ; but I know he s very rich, and wudn t miss 
 a trifle to a poor body." 
 
 "Perhaps not, if the poor body were deserving." 
 
 " As to that, sir, I don t know ; but iv poverty makes us 
 desarvin av charity, marcy knows we have enough av it 
 here. If Providence disn t send us some help afore many 
 days, we ll have to beg our bit an our sup through the 
 county, lake the rest i the poor creathurs that s goin . 
 But there s some hope afore us yet, sir; we musn t despair 
 till the last. I wus tould, whin the colonel id come he d 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 219 
 
 bring me somethin to relieve me in my distress. God 
 grant it. Many s the prayer I prayed in the dead i the 
 night, when the childher id be sleepin about me, for that 
 hour to soon reach us." 
 
 " If you long to see Colonel Templeton, he is now be 
 fore you." 
 
 " You, sir ? " ejaculated Kathleen. 
 
 The colonel bowed, and smiled patronizingly. 
 
 " Oh, hierna ! " exclaimed the poor woman, terrified at 
 the thought of having spoken so long and so familiarly in 
 such a presence. " I beg yer honor s pardon," she added, 
 while her voice trembled with agitation "I beg yer 
 honor s pardon for bein so bowld as to " 
 
 " As to what ? " inquired the colonel, observing her 
 hesitation. 
 
 " As to spake to yer honor in regard i the Agent an 
 the Procthor." 
 
 " But you have told nothing but the truth have you?" 
 
 " Noa, indeed, yer honor, more nor if the book was in 
 my han ." 
 
 " Who told you of my corning here to comfort you in 
 your misfortunes?" 
 
 The Bible Reader, sir." 
 
 " Which of them Mr. Goodsoul ? " 
 
 " Yes, yer honor." 
 
 " Ah! your name is Catharine Kennedy?" 
 
 " Yes, yer honor." 
 
 " All these children are yours are they ? " 
 
 " Yes, yer honor, an two more that died when eight days 
 ould." 
 
 "Mr. Goodsoul was right, my good woman; I have 
 brought you a present a very valuable present indeed." 
 The colonel stepped over to the gig. 
 
 Kathleen raised her eyes to heaven, and crossed her 
 hands upon her bosom. She could not speak ; but the big 
 tears rushed out, and trickled down her palec heeks. They 
 
220 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 were the tears of unspeakable gratitude a far sweeter and 
 holier tribute than the lips of angels could offer. "Go in 
 
 go in, Bridget dear, ahasky? she muttered at length, as 
 she wiped the drops from her eyes; "go in, an bring the 
 childher with ye that s the colonel himself, asthore ; and 
 God be praised, he has somethin with him to relieve us. 
 Go in, an I ll let ye see it all when he goes away." 
 
 The good man having taken a parcel of considerable size 
 from the vehicle, carried it in his arms carefully, and stoop 
 ing low, entered the hut. 
 
 Having placed his goodly person on something resem 
 bling a chair, he requested Kathleen to approach him. 
 
 With joy beaming. in her care-worn but still handsome 
 face (for Kathleen Kennedy was once the beauty of her 
 native village), her heart beating rapidly in anticipation 
 of the bounty that God sent her in the hour of distress, 
 and surrounded by her children, each holding a portion of 
 her tattered garments, and gazing anxiously in the face of 
 the well-dressed stranger, she stood there, gentle reader 
 the traces of recent tears still visible on her faded cheeks 
 
 she stood there, the living epitome of her country be 
 fore the mercy-seat of England! 
 
 Kathleen s eyes were riveted on the parcel. She saw, 
 in an instant, her children clothed with the garments it 
 contained, their hearts bounding happily as they con 
 templated their new holiday-dresses, herself in a new 
 gown and buskins, cheerily setting out on her long jour 
 ney to visit poor Ned in Lifford jail. As the colonel slow 
 ly untied the bundle, there was a pause of painful suspense 
 
 pain not arising from doubt, but an absorbing anxiety 
 
 and, except the rustle of the paper that wrapped the 
 parcel, no sound was to be heard, not even a breath, from 
 the members of that ragged group. 
 
 Reader, the gentleman who occupied the chair had an 
 income of twenty-four thousand pounds sterling per an 
 num the woman before him, one bushel of potatoes for 
 herself and her little ones ! 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 221 
 
 At length the valuable present was drawn forth, and 
 placed in the woman s hand. 
 
 " There," said the colonel, looking up compassionately 
 in Kathleen s face ; " there blessed are they that mourn, 
 for they shall be comforted." 
 
 Kathleen in an instant recognized the gift (it was a 
 small duodecimo Bible Goodsoul had once before pre 
 sented it to her), and as she did, the warm blood which 
 the excitement of hope had called up for an instant to her 
 pallid cheek, rushed back rapidly on her heart, sickening 
 and freezing as it went. It was a moment of bitter an 
 guish. Full of the long-cherished hope that for days and 
 weeks before had enabled her to battle with adversity, 
 now at last about to reap the reward of her patience and 
 long-suffering, now about to witness with her own eyes 
 an immediate alleviation of the corporal wants of herself 
 and her destitute children, she was prepared to kneel 
 before the instrument of Divine mercy, and shed tears of 
 gratitude at his feet. But it was not to be. No. It was 
 the price of the soul that should clothe the body. 
 
 Kathleen returned the book, but made no reply in words : 
 it was the heart that spoke. She turned up her eyes in a 
 mute appeal to the burning bosom of her Redeemer, from 
 the cold charity of man. 
 
 The children still holding on by her dress, and perceiv 
 ing her endeavors to repress her rising emotion, as she 
 refused to accept the present, burst out into tears, and 
 strove to drag her away from the stranger. 
 
 " This, my poor woman, is the Holy Bible," resumed the 
 colonel. " It is sent you by the Almighty refuse it not, 
 for it is the bearer of glad tidings. It will cheer you in 
 your solitude, and comfort you in your afflictions." 
 
 "It s av no use to me, yer honor not the laste," she 
 replied, whilst the words seemed half choked in the utter 
 ance. " Whist ! asthore, don t cry don t, dear." 
 
 " No use the Bible no use ! " 
 
222 SHANDY M GUIKE, OK 
 
 " Shure, feen a word myself can read, yer honor." 
 
 "What, refuse the bread of life ! the " 
 
 " Am not refusiu it, yer honor. I know it s good ; but I 
 thought yer honor had somethin to give me for the childher 
 if it was only a rag to cover their naked bodies, I d be 
 thankful. I was thinkin yer honor might give myself the 
 price av a pair i shoes to carry me to Lifford to see Ned 
 afore he dies. Ochone, ochone, sir, I thought when I d 
 once see yer honor, I d be soon on my journey to the father 
 i my helpless childher ; but it seems it wusn t afore me. 
 An there s five spengle i yarn I was keepin to buy some- 
 thin to norish him when I d go there, if I had only a da- 
 cent rag to kerry me to the strange place " 
 
 "But listen to me." 
 
 " An the good, kindly neighbors may the Almighty 
 in heaven reward them for it ! was to keep the childher 
 for me till I d come back again. An shure I was dhramin 
 last night atself, that I was sittin aside Ned where he was 
 brakin stones in the jail, an him askin me about the crea- 
 thurs at home, an me tellin him all." 
 
 " Woman," exclaimed the colonel, " will you not permit 
 rne to speak ? " 
 
 " I beg yer honor s pardon." 
 
 "Well, listen to me attentively." 
 
 " I will, yer honor." 
 
 " Do you know what the Bible is ? " 
 
 "Yes, yer honor; it s the Word i God." 
 
 " True ; and this holy book is put into your hands by the 
 owner of this estate, by your landlord, the proprietor 
 of the site on which this house is built, and built, too, 
 without permission either of myself or my agent. Do 
 you understand me?" 
 
 " Yes, yer honor." 
 
 " Well, you refuse to accept the Word of God from one, 
 without whose permission this house would not remain 
 standing twenty-four hours longer." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 223 
 
 "I know that, yer honor; but shure you wudn t turn us 
 out again on the wide world, sir ! Oh, my God ! my God ! 
 you wudn t do that." 
 
 " Listen, woman." 
 
 " Am listenin , yer honor." 
 
 " This hut is an eyesore on the estate ; it should not 
 have been built in this public place you understand me ? 
 Well, will you receive the Holy Bible ? " 
 
 " Shure I can t read a blissed word, yer honor ; I niver 
 learned to read in that way at all, sir." 
 
 " In what way do you mean ? " 
 
 " Why, out of a book, sir, seein I niver got any school- 
 in ." 
 
 "And how else can you read, pray?" 
 
 " It s little I can read any way, yer honor am a poor 
 ignorant creathur." 
 
 " Little ! can you read at all, woman eh ? " 
 
 " Not a much, yer honor." 
 
 "And what is that much, may I ask you eh, what 
 is it?" 
 
 " Only the cross, yer honor," replied Kathleen, looking 
 towards a miserable bed in the opposite corner, at the foot 
 of which a brass crucifix was suspended. 
 
 "Read the cross," repeated Colonel Templeton ; "why, 
 such an expression I surely never heard before." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; the priest makes us larn to read it when we re 
 young." 
 
 " When you re young ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir; iz that niver got any schoolinV 
 
 " Ah ! And what do you mean by reading the cross ? " 
 
 " Why, it s goin over in our own minds all our blissed 
 Lord done for us." 
 
 "All he did for you?" 
 
 " Yes, yer honor ; we see it all there plain afore us," and 
 Kathleen pointed to the image. 
 
 "On the crucifix?" 
 
224 SHANDY M GUIRE, OB 
 
 "Yes, sir: we can read a most everything there." 
 
 " Can you, indeed ? how so, pray ? " 
 
 " Why, yer honor, if we begin at the soles av his feet, 
 an go up to the crown av his head, we ll see all he suffered 
 an how well he loved us, all at onst, yer honor ; far sooner 
 nor we cud read it in a book. The weans there can read 
 it now, all but the two youug ones." 
 
 "And what benefit, my good woman, do you derive 
 from reading the cross, as you term it ? " 
 
 " Oh, bedad, yer honor, only for that, iz poor creathurs 
 cudn t live at all ; so we cudn t. Why, when we luck at 
 him there, we see our blissed Saviour, stripped a most 
 naked lake ourselves; whin we luck at the crown i thorns 
 on the head, we see the Jews mockin him, jist the same 
 as some people mock ourselves for our religion ; whin 
 we luck at his eyes, we see they wor niver dry, like our own ; 
 whin we luck at the wound in his side, why, we think less av 
 our own wounds an bruises, we get ithin an ithout, every 
 day av our lives. An then, yer honor, seein we re jist like 
 our blissed Lord, why, it comforts us, it makes us some way 
 thankful, that our lives is like his own. Oh, indeed, yer 
 honor, only for that we wudn t do at all; maybe it s 
 tempted to murdher, an rob, an steal, we d be, when the 
 hunger bites us. An then, in regard i tachin the child her, 
 it s far easier, if I hear one i them cursin , or takin His 
 holy name in vain, to point up to the Saviour s lips, on the 
 cross there, nor to be luckin out for t in the Bible, even set 
 in case I cud read." 
 
 " Unfortunate woman," said the colonel, solemnly ; " you 
 depend for salvation on dead works, and you want the 
 faith by which alone you can deserve it." 
 
 "Maybe so, yer honor," replied Kathleen, not under 
 standing the colonel s observation. 
 
 "I mean," repeated the colonel, "you want faith that 
 is, you do not believe on Christ." 
 
 " Believe on Christ, yer honor ? " 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 225 
 
 " Yes ; you do not put your whole faith on him you 
 don t depend sufficiently on the merits of the great atone 
 ment. You want faith to regenerate you." 
 
 " Oh, masha indeed, yer honor, I ll warrint that s true 
 enough ; I strive to do all I can for my poor sowl, but 
 shure when we do our best it s only jist the name iv it we 
 do after all. Its doin penance for our sins we d be all our 
 lifetime, if we only jist thought what sufferins we cost our 
 blissed Saviour himself." 
 
 " You don t understand me, woman," interrupted the 
 colonel. 
 
 "Don t I, yer honor?" 
 
 " No. Do you know what spiritual regeneration is ? " 
 
 " Feen a know I do, yer honor." 
 
 "Poor woman you are greatly to be pitied." 
 
 " True for you, sir, an them five helpless childher at my 
 feet, and my husband in jail dying " 
 
 " Stop, woman, I did not allude to your corporal, but to 
 your spiritual wants." 
 
 No, sir." 
 
 " Well, do you understand what is meant by justifica 
 tion by faith?" 
 
 " Feen a know I do, yer honor." 
 
 " Nor what gospel light is ? " 
 
 " Not a word, yer honor." 
 
 "And what do you know of religion nothing?" 
 
 " Not a hap orth, yer honor, barrin my cross an my 
 beads." 
 
 " Woman woman, this is downright idolatry. What 
 benefit is that piece of brass to you ? " 
 
 "Why, yer honor?" 
 
 " Why, it can neither speak, hear, nor understand you." 
 
 " An shure the Bible can t either, beggin yer honor s 
 pardon." 
 
 " It can teach you to save your soul." 
 
 " Bedad, I think the cross teaches me better ; it spakes 
 15 
 
226 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 to me far plainer, so it does. Maybe, as yer honor says, 
 if one cud read the Bible it d be best ; but sure iz poor 
 ignorant creathurs that can t read, our cross an our beads 
 is all the comfort we have." 
 
 " "Wretched woman ! " exclaimed the colonel, shaking 
 his head solemnly, and laying his hand upon the Bible, " if 
 you could get some pious Christian to read this holy book 
 for you, the cross and the beads would soon be aban 
 doned." 
 
 " Is it give them up entirely, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes, forever." 
 
 " Oh, bedad," said Kathleen, smiling at the colonel s 
 loose notions of her religious prepossessions ; " we cudn t 
 do that at all, sir." 
 
 " You speak as a child does of its playthings your 
 religion is all in the fancy." 
 
 " An what id we do night or mornin , when we hadn t 
 the cross an beads to say our padareen partauch our 
 prayers I mean, yer honor ? Oh, fegs indeed yer honor, 
 we cudn t part with them at all, at all." 
 
 Here occurred a very sudden interruption to the collo 
 quy, that quite disturbed the good gentleman s equanimity. 
 
 Bridget, in the simplicity of her heart, suspected from 
 the latter part of the conversation between her mother 
 and the colonel, that the stranger came to take away the 
 cross and beads, and in order to prevent what she believed 
 to be an act of the most sacrilegious impiety, had stealthily 
 removed them to a place of concealment. Whilst doing 
 so, she communicated her suspicions to her younger 
 brother. The child, disregarding the great man s author 
 ity, stole over quietly behind where he sat, and lifting. a 
 long pole, called in Irish parlance a wattle, let it fall with 
 all its momentum on the bare bald head of the unconscious 
 colonel. 
 
 " Oh, heavens ! " roared the good man, starting from his 
 seat, "what s that?" 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 227 
 
 " Put him out, mammy, put him out ! " cried the child ; 
 "he wants to take away the cross and beads. Oh, 
 mammy dear, don t let him take them don t, mammy." 
 
 Kathleen whipped the child, as a matter of course, and 
 then turned to implore her landlord s forgiveness. 
 
 Colonel Templeton kept rubbing his head for a minute 
 or two, muttering at the same time sundry very equivocal 
 blessings on the violator of his sacred person, and then 
 bending down, requested Kathleen to see if there was not 
 a severe contusion. 
 
 " What are you doing, Kathleen Kennedy ? " said a 
 voice almost at her very ear. 
 
 Kathleen looked up. " Why, goodness be near us ! 
 Father Domnick dear, is that you ? " 
 
 " Father Domnick," repeated the colonel, turning round 
 quickly, and staring at the priest. 
 
 " I was riding by, colonel," said the priest, bowing low, 
 and endeavoring to suppress a smile " and happened to 
 look in just as the blow fell." 
 
 " But a mere trifle, sir," observed the colonel. 
 
 "I stepped from the road to make you my respects, sir, 
 and offer my assistance, if necessary. I assure you, 
 colonel, it should be seen to it must have been a severe 
 blow." 
 
 " I thank you, sir ; it s of no consequence." 
 
 " Kathleen," said the priest, " is there any extravasa 
 I mean any appearance of blood about the part, or any 
 swelling what ? " 
 
 " Oh, bedad, yer reverence," replied Kathleen, " it s 
 a most as big as an egg a ready." 
 
 " How unfortunate ! I would recommend cold lotions, 
 colonel, for the present ; and when you reach home, a little 
 burnt brandy and Chili vinegar will be the best liniment 
 you can apply : be careful, however, not to expose the 
 contused part to the cold. Good morning, colonel. Am 
 happy to find the accident is, after all, but trifling. Good 
 morning." 
 
228 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 As Father Domnick was turning his horse s head from 
 the door, he stooped and whispered a word or two in 
 Kathleen s ear. 
 
 " Very well, my honest woman," resumed Colonel Tem- 
 pleton, tying up the parcel ; " I cannot tarry any longer. 
 You have spurned the Gospel from your door it s time 
 the messenger should leave also. Remember, however, 
 this hut must be thrown down immediately perhaps to 
 morrow. It cannot remain standing here, a disgrace to 
 the whole estate." 
 
 " Oh, for marcy s sake, yer honor, don t drive me an my 
 childher out again on the cowld world." 
 
 " A wretch who rejects the word of God," retorted the 
 colonel, "deserves no commiseration." 
 
 " Don t put me out, yer honor, till Ned s time is up in 
 jail, an then we ll lave it in a thousan welkims." 
 
 " Peace, woman you deserve no pity." 
 
 " Don t leave me in anger," entreated Kathleen, follow 
 ing her landlord to the road. " Maybe if I d take the 
 Bible, ye d do somethin for poor Ned ? " 
 
 "If you accept the Holy Bible," replied the colonel, in 
 a kinder tone, and " conform to the doctrine it teaches, I 
 shall feel a pleasure, as well as consider it a duty, to re 
 lieve you from your present afflictions." 
 
 " But shure it ont be any harm, yer honor," innocently 
 inquired Kathleen, " to say my prayers on the beads? " 
 
 " Beads ! you must abandon all such superstitious habits, 
 attend church regularly, and learn the higher, nobler doc 
 trine of justification by faith. In one word, my honest 
 woman, you must be a Protestant to obtain my pat 
 ronage." 
 
 " Wudn t it do, yer honor, to go to church for two or 
 three Sundays, like the rest i the converts ? " 
 
 "Woman," exclaimed the colonel in an angry tone, 
 " your language is offensive." 
 
 " I humbly ax yer honor s pardon ; I didn t mane to vex 
 you, sir." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 229 
 
 " Well, will you conform to the Protestant faith ? " 
 
 " I ll do anything yer honor wants me, for the sake i 
 poor Ned an the childher." 
 
 "Miserable, deluded being! it must not be for your 
 husband s, nor your children s, but for your soul s sake." 
 
 " Yes sir, sartintly ; I ll do anything to plase yer honor." 
 
 " Not to please me, woman, but your Creator. Human 
 respect, nor worldly interest, can have part in your con 
 version." 
 
 " No, sir; I ll do whativer you tell me, yer honor." 
 
 " Here, then, is the sacred book. Have it read for your 
 spiritual instruction as often as possible. You will find it 
 a true friend amid all the troubles of life. Try to obtain 
 the indwelling of the Spirit" 
 
 " Av coorse, yer honor sartintly." 
 
 " When I see Mr. Goodsoul, I ll ask him to call occasion 
 ally ; he will be happy to afford you all the spiritual aid 
 he can." 
 
 " I d rather have some ither one, yer honor." 
 
 " Some other why so, pray ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don t know, sir," replied Kathleen, blushing 
 slightly. 
 
 "Speak out, woman what objection can you have to 
 Mr. Goodsoul?" 
 
 " Feen a much, yer honor ; only I don t lake him some 
 way. He was here aften afore, and he s always spakin , so 
 he does, av me niver seem my husban again, an ither 
 quare things that makes me hate him." 
 
 " Hut-tut, poor woman, you don t understand him," said 
 the colonel, smiling at Kathleen s simplicity ; " he was 
 offering you consolation in your distress, and you attrib 
 uted it, perhaps, to another motive. Oh, no Mr. Good- 
 soul is a very pious, God-fearing Levite." 
 
 Kathleen looked up at the colonel, but said nothing. 
 
 "And now, Catharine, I shall expect you to come to 
 the Moor, for garments for yourself and your little cliil- 
 
230 SHANDY M GUIRE. 
 
 dren, to-morrow evening, and to appear next evening at 
 the Methodist meeting. Mr. Sweetsoul preaches on the 
 occasion." The colonel entered his gig. 
 
 " Thank yer honor," said Kathleen, making a humble 
 courtesy ; " and afther that, maybe yer honor id do some- 
 thin for Ned." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I ll think of that," responded the landlord, 
 cracking his whip. " Good morning, Catherine, and don t 
 forget your Bible." 
 
 Kathleen returned to her miserable cabin. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 231 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 CONTAINING SOME SECEETS THAT MAY PKOVE VERY IN 
 TERESTING TO " RELIGIOUS TEA-PARTIES," DEN s THE 
 OLOGY LECTURERS, OLD MAIDENS, AND NURSERY-GIRLS. 
 
 COLONEL TEMPLETON had hardly passed out of view of 
 Kathleen Kennedy s cabin, on his return to the Moor (for, 
 owing to a nervous affection of the head, he felt somewhat 
 indisposed to continue his ride any farther that morning), 
 when he overtook an old man hobbling along the road, and 
 apparently making his way to the village. 
 
 " Yer honor s humble sarvint," said the man, taking off 
 his hat, and bowing profoundly to the colonel, as the latter 
 reined in his horse to a slower pace. 
 
 " Going to town, eh ? Put on your hat, honest man 
 put on your hat." 
 
 " Yes, yer honor, am strivin to go that far." 
 " You re lame, I perceive what s the matter ? " 
 "Masha, indeed then, yer honor, it s the rheumatis I 
 have these four years past ; am a most racked to death s 
 doore with them. Mony a disase th ould age brings, yer 
 honor. But shure, af we think av what Job suffered, we d 
 oughtn t to complain." 
 
 " Humph ! I see you read the Bible sometimes." 
 "Well, indeed then, sir, it s maybe little i that same 
 troubles me, so it is, strivin night an day to see to the 
 childher, the creathurs ; for crippled as I am, it s but a 
 poor livin they d have ithout me. But av coorse, I read 
 a chapter or so for them ivry night, an maybe spen an 
 hour or so on the Sabbath." 
 
232 SHANDY M GTJIRE, OR 
 
 " Ha ! very well very well, indeed ; I m delighted to 
 hear it." 
 
 " Well, yer honor, I saw the time when it s little I cared 
 for the Bible, thinkin more maybe av murtherin Orange 
 men an scrim magin at fairs an markets than av savin the 
 sowl ; but dear be thankit, them times is over, yer honor. 
 Och, och, sir; when the ould age comes, it brings the deep 
 thoughts alang with it." 
 
 " Very true, honest man ; and what is your name, may 
 I ask?" 
 
 " I m one Crawmshaugh, yer honor." 
 
 Oawpshy ? " 
 
 "Yis, yer honor; my name s Neal, but the neighbors 
 call me Nealashin a Crawmshaugh, that is, in English, wee 
 Neal, seein there s a big Neal a Crawmshaugh down there 
 in Gurtnamonaugh." 
 
 " Are you a Roman Catholic ? " 
 
 "Well, yer honor," replied the little man, leering up at 
 his inquisitor, who was now regarding him with increased 
 interest, " I can t say but I wus one onst in my days ; but 
 the priest says I m none now maybe he s not far asthray." 
 
 " Come into the gig, poor man," said the colonel, assum 
 ing the Samaritan in a" moment (the effects of charity are 
 often astonishing). " Come in ; I shall carry you to town." 
 
 The old man remonstrated very much against the excess 
 of the colonel s benevolence. It was out of all reason to 
 take such a ragged creature as he was into such a carriage, 
 and beside such a richly-dressed gentleman. But the good 
 man would take no excuse. 
 
 " Come in," he repeated, in a more authoritative tone. 
 And, taking the old man by the hand, he helped him to a 
 seat beside him in the silk-velvet cushioned vehicle. 
 
 " So the priest says you re no longer a Catholic ? " re 
 sumed the colonel. 
 
 " Bedad, maybe yer honor s a Catholic yerself^ if it wudn t 
 be too bowld to ax ye ? I d lake to know, for fraid I d say 
 too much." 
 
TRICKS UPON TEAVELLEES. 233 
 
 " What, do you not know Colonel Templeton ? " 
 
 " You, sir ! " exclaimed his companion, in surprise, tak 
 ing off his hat a second time. 
 
 " Yes, I am Colonel Templeton ; but be not astonished, 
 poor man (observing the terror his companion seemed to 
 feel) compose yourself I am happy to have an oppor 
 tunity of conversing with you. What reason had the 
 priest to disclaim you ? " 
 
 " Why, the instigashin av it wus, yer honor, bekase I ust 
 to read the Bible for the wife an the weans av a Sabbath 
 evenin ." 
 
 " Did he tell you so ? " demanded the colonel, turning 
 an inquisitive look on his companion ; u eh ! did he say that 
 was the reason ? " 
 
 " As shure as my name s Crawmshaugh, yer honor ; d ye 
 think I d " 
 
 "Well, well, but can you prove it? can you swear to 
 the fact ? " 
 
 " Be all the " 
 
 " Stop, stop ! " cried the colonel ; " no swearing here 
 I don t mean that; but are you prepared to make a solemn 
 declaration before " 
 
 "Afore jidge an jury," interrupted Crawmshaugh, with 
 considerable animation. 
 
 " But how did the priest happen to know you read the 
 Bible?" 
 
 " Faith, I tould him, yer honor." 
 
 " How at confession ? " 
 
 "Av coorse, yer honor, I had to tell that Liang with the 
 rest." 
 
 " What rest do you mean ? " 
 
 " Why, the rest i my sins, yer honor." 
 
 " Gracious powers ! " exclaimed the colonel, raising his 
 eyes in supplication for pity on the ignorance of men; 
 " and you believed it a sin to read the Holy Bible ? " 
 
 " Och, och ! that s but little av it, yer honor." 
 
234 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 " I suppose so no doubt. "Well, but did the priest ab 
 solve you from that sin, as he calls it ? " 
 
 " Oh, feen a bit a fear av him," responded the little man, 
 shaking his head. " I hadn t the means to pay him." 
 
 " What a horrible traffic in immortal souls this religion 
 must afford," said the colonel, with much feeling. "Oh, 
 how it makes the heart sicken." 
 
 " Well," he again resumed, " and what does he charge 
 for absolution ? " 
 
 " Oh, different prices, sir." 
 
 "Ah ! indeed, I was quite ignorant of his * tariff. And 
 how does he regulate the price ? " 
 
 " Why, accordin to the weight, yer honor." 
 
 " The weight ! does the price of absolution vary as the 
 weight ? " 
 
 " Sartintly, sir some more an some less. Thirty shil- 
 lins is the highest am toul." 
 
 " Humph ! and what are these sins he charges so high 
 for?" 
 
 " Why," answered Crawmshaugh, counting them slowly 
 on his fingers, "there s murdher that s one; there s 
 house-burnin that s two ; there s readin the Bible 
 that s three " 
 
 " What ! you must be mistaken." 
 
 " Fegs, I ll warrint I am, yer honor what way, sir ?" 
 
 " Why, you place murder and reading the Bible in the 
 same category. I mean, you said he charged as much for 
 reading the Bible as he did for murder." 
 
 "Ah shure, so he diz, yer honor." 
 
 " Are you serious ? " 
 
 " Serious ! " repeated Crawmshaugh. " Oh, yer honor s 
 only jokin me ; feen a hate else yer doin . Yer honor 
 knows more about the priests than I do myself, so ye do 
 yer only purtendin , jist to hear what I say, that ye 
 may tell it all again whin ye get nmang the quality lake 
 yerself. Bad scran to the hap orth else yer doin , yer 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 235 
 
 honor." And the old man looked up inquisitively in the 
 colonel s face. 
 
 " I assure you, my honest man," observed the colonel, 
 seriously, "I m very far from joking. On the contrary, I 
 am horrified to think what you say may be true. I have 
 heard a great many things said of the confessional ; but 
 up to this moment, I had no idea of its being so awfully 
 corrupt." 
 
 " Ochone ! ochone, yer honor ! colonel, av ye only knew 
 but the half iv it." 
 
 "And you say murder and reading the Bible are for 
 given at the same price ? " 
 
 " The very same, yer honor, barrin it s the murdher av 
 a heretic." * 
 
 "Ha! is that cheaper?" 
 
 " Av coorse, yer honor. Oh, that s only a thrifle. It 
 ust to be only half a crown a head ; but now, since the hard 
 times come, it s down to a shillin , am toul." 
 
 " Good heavens ! " exclaimed the colonel ; " what a bar 
 barous people ! " 
 
 " Begorra, yer honor, it s changed times with the clargy 
 atself, so it is. A man nowadays can murdher a score or 
 two av heretics, an niver feel his pocket the lighter a 
 sack av oats, or a two-year-ould heifer, ill clear the whole 
 rackenin . But bedad, sir, it wusn t so when I was a breen 
 ouge, an that same s a good feck i years ago ; many s the 
 good pound the priests got from us then, when the ruc 
 tions was plenty, and the money lake sklate-stones. There s 
 Shemashin Kelly, that lived up in them ould walls yer 
 honor sees there on the hill above a son av ould Step- 
 ghaun More Nanannog they ust to call him for a byword. 
 Well, Shemashin ust to make his bargain beforehan with 
 the priest for all he d murdher in the twalmonth ; and fegs, 
 
 * The priests were then charged with conniving at the murder of 
 heretics. 
 
236 SHANDY M GUIEE, OR 
 
 it wusn t his tenpennys or halfcrowns either he d be afther 
 givin , but his dacent meldher i meal, an his half a score i 
 lambs he d have to drive afore him but stop, stop, yer 
 honor, an let me down let me down, sir, for any sake," 
 entreated Crawmshaugh, suddenly interrupting himself in 
 his tale of horrors. " I know them people comin up, sir, 
 and if they see me with you, they d have me massacrated. 
 Oh, stop, yer honor, an let me down." 
 
 "What, are you afraid of them who are they?" 
 
 " Oh, that s Miss O Donnell, yer honor, that s dashing 
 up to the stone wall, an that s Captain O Brien afther her. 
 Look her horse baulks. Let me go, yer honor; I might 
 buy my coffin if she d see me here." 
 
 "Be quiet, man you must remain. Am I not power 
 ful enough to protect you ? " 
 
 " Look, sir see, she heads him to the wall again. Oh, 
 tare-an-ages, how she whips him ha ! she ll tache him the 
 haybrew look now ha ! she s over, by all that s gran 
 she is ; and there s the captain at her side. Murdher, see 
 how she sits her horse begorra, she s like a young queen. 
 By the table i war, isn t it a pity she s a papish ? But 
 there they go again across the fields, hoppin over the 
 ditches, an laughin jist as if it was on the level stran 
 they wur." 
 
 The speaker seemed to take an extraordinary interest in 
 the chase. His whole manner underwent an instantaneous 
 change: his voice becoming more firm and energetic, his 
 limbs less feeble, and his eyes so dull before sparkling 
 and animated. Indeed, so unconscious was he of the posi 
 tion he occupied, that when the young lady turned her 
 horse again to the leap, he started to his feet, laid hold of 
 the colonel s collar, and held it as firmly as if his fingers 
 had been a vice. The colonel, unused to such familiarity, 
 had endeavored to shake himself free of the rough, un- 
 gentlemanly grip of his excited companion ; but he might 
 as well have wrestled and remonstrated with a pillar of 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 237 
 
 Hercules. It was not, therefore, till after the riders had 
 galloped out of sight, that the colonel could make himself 
 heard. 
 
 " Oawpshy, I say, will you not let go my collar ? " 
 
 " Your collar, sir ? " 
 
 " Why, you stupid fool, do you not see you have got 
 hold of my collar?" 
 
 Poor Crawmshaugh loosed his hold instantly, and seemed 
 greatly terrified at the thought of being guilty, even un 
 consciously, of so sacrilegious an act. He offered a most 
 humble apology, and assured the colonel it was out of his 
 power to control himself when he saw a chase, being bred 
 to it in his youth. "Indeed," he added, "it s my wake- 
 ness, yer honor, an am afeerd it ill stick to me while 
 th ould bones hould thegither." 
 
 "Well, well," said the colonel, "I suppose I must be sat 
 isfied with your apology ; but how is it you fear that young 
 lady so much?" 
 
 " Why, yer honor, av she seen me ridin in the carriage 
 with you, she d say I turned Protestan out-an-out, and 
 then it id be only who d give me the first blow. Oh, be- 
 gorra, it id be no child s play, yer honor." 
 
 "But I was under the impression all the time you were 
 a Protestant. Did you not tell me so ? " 
 
 " Sartintly, yer honor, an I ll niver go back in my word ; 
 but I didn t tell you I wint to church." 
 
 " No ; but why not go to church ? Is it fear prevents 
 you ? " 
 
 " Av coorse, yer honor; what else id it be?" 
 
 " Suppose I both supported and protected you, would 
 you go ? " 
 
 " Oh, bedad, it s I that wud, yer honor, an be glad i the 
 offer." 
 
 "Would you publicly declare, what you have already 
 told me of confession, and its secrets ? " 
 
 " Afore the world, yer honor, an welcome." 
 
238 SHANDY M GUIBE, OB 
 
 "Before a congregation ?" 
 
 " Afore a congregation." 
 
 " Will you come to the Methodist meeting on Thursday 
 night, and rnake the same revelations you have just now 
 made?" 
 
 " I will, yer honor, av ye promise to take myself an the 
 wife an weans out i this place, to where we ll have some 
 pace an quateness ; for afther turnin an spakin i them 
 things, my life wudn t be worth a scallion while I d remain 
 here. So on them conditions I will, av you agree to 
 them." 
 
 "I agree willingly. But observe, if you deceive me, I 
 shall have you sent farther away than you might desire to 
 go, perhaps." 
 
 " It s aizy findin Neal Crawmshaugh, yer honor ; there s 
 not a sowl ithin the walls i the parish but knows him. 
 Well, av he disn t come when you send for him, why, there s 
 no harm done, an nobody the wiser. Av he desaves ye, 
 luck, an ye ll fine a year s arrears due on the book; so jist 
 treat him then as he desarves. Will that plase yer 
 honor?" 
 
 " Very good ; but how and when are you to come ?" 
 
 "I must go the meetin -house in a covered carriage I 
 wudn t trust myself in anything else and stay in the 
 carriage till the minit am awantin . You know am not 
 able to walk, yer honor; so jist send the sarvint an coach 
 to Gortnotragh in the evenin as if yer honor s self was in 
 it takin an airin . I ll be on the watch, an step in ithout 
 a creathur seein me." 
 
 " You promise me faithfully to come ? " 
 
 "As shure as am to meet jidgment I will, yer honor; 
 am longin as much to expose the matther as yer honor 
 can be. So now let me down : we ll be meetin people 
 comin out i the village that might have my life afore you d 
 have my secrets. An luck, yer honor av iver ye min- 
 tion my name to brathin mortial till the time comes, ye v ll 
 
TEICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 239 
 
 niver ^ee my face again. Will ye promise me that, yer 
 honor ? " 
 
 " I promise you." 
 
 "Well, good mornin , yer honor, till we meet again. 
 Am ablidged to yer honor for demanin yerself so much as 
 to put me aside ye." 
 
 " Stop for a moment " (the colonel took his tablets) ; 
 "I must not mistake the name. Neala I don t re 
 member " 
 
 " Neal a shin, yer honor." 
 
 "Crawm shaugh, yer honor. There s another Neal, 
 I tould you, in Gortnamonagh, but ye ll write Gortno- 
 tragh." 
 
 Gort what?" 
 
 " Gort no tragh, yer honor." 
 
 " Very well, Crawpshy, that will do. Good morning." 
 
 " Good mornin to yer honor, an I wish ye safe home." 
 
 The old man s rheumatis departed with the colonel. 
 He flung his batta-more over the ditch, raised his shoulders, 
 turned the rig lit side of his coat out, adjusted his cravat, 
 stepped out as sprightly as a Parisian dancing-master, and 
 in a few minutes reached the village, where Shandy 
 M Guire had always a hearty welcome. 
 
 The good colonel arrived safely at the Moor, ate a sump 
 tuous dinner, sipped half a bottle of port, and drank a 
 tumbler of claret, then lay down to take a short siesta, 
 endeavored to estimate, in a general way, the benefits 
 which the Church of England was likely to derive from 
 his labors of the day; then fell into a sound sleep, and 
 dreamt of Kathleen Kennedy, Father Domnick, Chili 
 vinegar, and burnt brandy. 
 
240 SHANDY M GUIBE, OB 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ELLEN O DONNELL AND SHANDY M GUIRE APPEAR AS TWO 
 VERY DIFFERENT CHARACTERS IN THE DRAMA OF 
 IRISH .LIFE. 
 
 THE clock in the corner of Father Domnick s little en 
 trance-hall had struck eleven. The housekeeper and her 
 assistant had long before retired to rest. The night was 
 calm and clear. The young moon, like a virgin bride, had 
 thrown off her veil, and came forth with her hosts of bril 
 liant attendants dancing and sparkling around her. How 
 beautiful is the clear, calm, starry night ! How lovely is 
 the pale silvery moon so placid yet so bright, so brilliant 
 and yet so passionless ! We sometimes fancy, as we gaze 
 upon it, that the eye of God may be like that serene, pure, 
 stainless orb, looking down on his regenerated earth to see 
 if all things be well regulated there ; and those falling 
 stars, like angels whom he sends down laden with bless 
 ings and glad tidings for his children. 
 
 Darby Gallaugher, Father Domnick s old clerk, was 
 alone in the kitchen, kneeling before a crucifix. His beads 
 were suspended from his left hand, whilst his right rested 
 on the head of his staff. The lamp was extinguished, and 
 the embers in the fireplace nearly burnt out, so that it was 
 only by the moonbeams struggling with difficulty through 
 the thick curtains of the window, the form of the old man 
 could be distinguished from the surrounding darkness. 
 He was praying in silence, for no voice, not even a whis 
 per, could be heard he was praying from the heart, like 
 Anna, the mother of Samuel, but his lips moved not. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 241 
 
 It is now many a long year since I first saw Darby Gal- 
 laugher, the priest s clerk. Many a pleasant hour have I 
 sat at ray uncle s kitchen fire, listening to his stories of the 
 old times. I can yet remember well the venerable and 
 respectable face of the old man, as it made its appearance 
 almost every Sunday evening about sunset at the humble 
 
 residence of my uncle, Jemmy C , of Killymard. 
 
 Darby was even then advanced in years, yet still hale and 
 healthy. His open, simple, good-natured countenance 
 forever wore the expression of peace and contentment 
 with himself and all mankind. He came and w^ent, just 
 as he pleased, without question or apology. When he 
 entered, it was " God s blissin on ye all here, young an 
 ould i yees ; " and when he left on the Monday following, 
 he would first pause for an instant on the threshold (his 
 ivory-headed cane under his arm), while he drew on his 
 woollen mittens, and then stepping out, would invariably 
 leave the good word behind him, " God be with ye, Peggy, 
 and the rest i yees, till I see ye again. Make the childher 
 be larnin the Christian doctrine till I come back, for they 
 are big enough now to go to the priest, an av they larn 
 hard I ll pass them the nixt time he comes round on the 
 station ; ay, don t forget that, Peggy." On these occasions 
 I always accompanied Darby down the green lane to the 
 high road, and never failed to obtain a blessing for myself 
 specially, and a promise that he would surely call again on 
 Sunday. How delighted I used to feel when the old man 
 would return the night before the station to " put out the 
 catechism ! " I thought then the highest blessing I could 
 obtain on earth was a ticket for my first confession ; and 
 long did I labor to earn it. Many a long night did I spend 
 at my uncle s turf fire, with a rushlight burning dimly be 
 fore me in the wooden candlestick, peering into Reilly s 
 abridgment of Catholic doctrine, and slimming over the 
 hard words as they occasionally turned up with a most 
 magnanimous disregard for all rules of orthoepy. When 
 16 
 
242 SHANDY M GUIRE, OE, 
 
 I received my admission-ticket from old Darby, I remem 
 ber well how carefully I concealed it in my bosom, and 
 refused to let my playmates see it, even in my own hand, 
 lest some evil should befall the precious gift ; and when I 
 returned from the tribunal of confession, how I ran to 
 my aunt and told her what Father Domnick directed me 
 to do. 
 
 " Hush," she would say, " hush asthore, you must niver 
 tell what the priest said to ye in confession." 
 
 " Well, but, aunty, dear, ye know the fippenny I foun 
 last week ? " 
 
 "Well, dear?" 
 
 " Shure he told me to give it to the poor ; so you must 
 get it for me to give to poor Shelah, the creathur ; she ll 
 be here at mass, an I ll give it to her to buy the tabakky." 
 
 I often wonder how these old " memories " still live on, 
 bright and cheering amid all the changes that are daily 
 passing over the theatre of life. How pleasant are the 
 thoughts called up by reminiscences like these ! Like 
 evening stars, pale, chaste, and cheerful, they beam out 
 again over the eventide of life, and light up the darkness 
 of years with a ray of hope, imparting to the melancholy 
 picture of human sorrows a brightening and gladdening 
 influence. How beautiful is the springtime of religion in 
 the soul, when it begins to live and move within, softening 
 down the little asperities of nature, and bringing out into 
 life and sunshine the sympathies and tender sensibilities 
 of the heart! Reader, have you ever remarked the change 
 that takes place in the human countenance when the soul 
 engaged in prayer becomes for the first time conscious of 
 the presence of its Creator, and of the relations that rea 
 son teaches it must exist between its Creator and itself? 
 There is such a moment. Remember how you observed 
 the words of prayer, issuing from the lips of the youthful 
 worshipper, to be emphasized and solemn, that before were 
 monotonous and insipid ; the eye become serious, steady, 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 243 
 
 and supplicant, that before was light, restless, and un 
 meaning; how, in a word, the whole countenance glowed 
 with life and emotion, that before was cold, reckless, and 
 indifferent ; and tell me, with such a picture of the power 
 of innate faith before us the picture of a soul offering 
 itself to God bright and beautiful in its virginity is it 
 not strange that the infidelity of this age can find so many 
 advocates? But I must not wander. No; I was speak 
 ing of old Darby the very thought of him makes me 
 feel better something like what I used to be. When I 
 look back through the long vista of years, and behold" far 
 away the old man with his long white hair falling in thin 
 locks over his shoulders, his venerable face radiant from 
 interior peace and happiness, his left hand leaning on his 
 ivory-headed staff, whilst his right is pressing the head of 
 each boy and girl successively, as they stand round him in 
 a circle to be questioned on the little catechism, I think I 
 feel changed from what I usually am. These first impres 
 sions, like the bright happy faces that gladdened our young 
 days, come back again, after a long absence, to renew once 
 more the springtime of religion in the soul. But I must 
 not digress. No ; digressions are seldom read. I was 
 only thinking over the old times, long ago, when we were 
 wont to assemble round the little altar, round the altar 
 in the mountains, Irish reader, raised on the damp earthen 
 floor, and under the dripping thatched roof of our fathers 
 cabins, of the time when kneeling before it we forgot 
 all but the victim- that was offered thereon ; when our 
 hearts, full to bursting, sought comfort and hope only in 
 the excess of His love, when the tears of repentance shed 
 on that humble floor unseen by any eye but that of the 
 all-seeing God, fell silently as on the feet of your Re 
 deemer, like drops of balm on the wounds of the crucified. 
 Oh ! give me back, give me back these young days again ; 
 give me back the thatched cabin and the damp floor; give 
 me back the old priest with his patched vestments and his 
 
244 SHANDY M GUIRE, OK 
 
 old worn-out plaited chalice ; give me back the religion of 
 the mountains, far dearer to me still than all the grandeur 
 and magnificence of the cathedral, where worshippers 
 kneel before the jewelled altar, without hearts or tears to 
 oifer the victim. Reader, have you ever blushed with 
 shame when you were reminded of those bygone days ? 
 did you ever silence your old acquaintance, when, with his 
 wonted familiarity, he ventured to speak of the humble 
 priest, in his homely language instructing his little congre 
 gation under the humble roof where you were born and 
 baptized in the faith ? If you did, then pass over this 
 chapter, for it has no interest for you. 
 
 Father Domnick was sitting in an arm-chair at a table 
 placed in the centre of his study. This apartment was 
 about fifteen feet square, and served both for study and 
 dining-room. The wall behind where he sat was shelved 
 from corner to corner, and the shelves filled with books 
 from the floor to the ceiling. The ponderous appearance 
 of the volumes on the lower shelves, and the parchment 
 bindings of those on the upper, at once told their charac 
 ter, and the countries whence they came. Against the 
 opposite wall, between the windows, and supported by a 
 wooden pedestal, was a bust of Leo X. by Michael Angelo, 
 and above the mantel an Infant Jesus by Rubens, said to 
 have been painted by that eminent artist when at Madrid 
 on the mission intrusted to him by the Infanta Isabella. 
 The rest of the furniture of the room was of the common 
 est kind, the few chairs and tables it contained being made 
 chiefly of pine or ash, and the floor without carpet, if we 
 except a coarse rug of four or five feet square, that lay 
 spread under the table at which the priest was sitting. 
 On the table lay open a folio volume of Pichler, and be 
 side it a Roman Breviary, covered with black cloth to 
 preserve the binding. His arms were resting on the table, 
 supporting his body in his usual reading posture. The 
 candle had now burned down, and was flickering in the 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 245 
 
 socket ; the old man s spectacles had fallen off, and lay on 
 the open book before him. Father Dornnick was asleep. 
 
 When Darby had concluded his night-prayer, he arose, 
 and taking a lamp in his hand, lighted it, and silently pro 
 ceeded to the private door opening from the dwelling- 
 house into the old church. It was his habit, for nearly 
 half a century, to examine the interior of the building, 
 with its windows and doors, every night before he retired 
 to rest. As he stepped over the threshold, and looked up 
 towards the altar, he was surprised to see a light in that 
 direction. He paused for an instant to shade the lamp 
 with the skirt of his coat, that he might see more distinctly 
 what it was. On the altar, and immediately before the 
 door of the tabernacle, a light was burning, and prostrate 
 on the platform, a female wrapped in a night-cloak. Darby 
 drew back in astonishment; he never remembered to have 
 seen a stranger, at such an hour^ within the sanctuary, 
 and before the blessed sacrament. Retracing his steps, he 
 hastened, with as little noise as possible, to Father Dom- 
 nick s room, and waking him from his slumbers, acquainted 
 him with what he had seen. The priest arose, and fol 
 lowed his old clerk to the door of the chapel. 
 
 "Hush," whispered the priest, pressing Darby s arm; 
 " let us not disturb her." 
 
 " But who can she be," said Darby, " that comes to visit 
 the blissed sacrament at this late hour ? " 
 
 " Be silent," said the priest. 
 
 "Look, sir isn t that some other body standin ahint 
 the pillar ? see there, don t you see the shadow on 
 the floor beyont it ? " 
 
 The speakers were concealed by a curtain drawn around 
 the vestibule of the private entrance. 
 
 " Hush," said the priest again ; " she s rising." 
 
 The female slowly raised herself to an erect attitude, 
 her hands still joined in humble supplication. The cloak, 
 which till that moment wrapped the whole person, now fell 
 
246 SHANDY M GUIRE. 
 
 off, and rolled back unheeded on the steps of the sanc 
 tuary ; the little silver lamp on the altar shed its rays full 
 on her face, and revealed to the astonished beholders the 
 beautiful features of Ellen O Donnell. 
 
 Her eyes fixed steadily on the door of the tabernacle, 
 within which the body of her Redeemer lay, were beam 
 ing with intense love a love so profound, mysterious, 
 and absorbing, that Titian would have taken her at the 
 moment for a model of Mary Magdalen at the sepulchre of 
 the Saviour. Her cheeks, usually so pale, were now suf 
 fused with a blush, which, heightened by the rays from 
 the little silver lamp, gave a glow of seraphic radiance to 
 her countenance : it was the blush, not of conscious guilt 
 before infinite sanctity, but of maiden modesty before the 
 footstool of her Sovereign. And, gentle reader, you will 
 ask, " Is this the girl whom you saw but a short time ago 
 bounding wildly as an Arab maid over the rugged wall 
 and the dangerous precipice ? Is this the proud beauty 
 who, with the dignity of a Roman matron, contemptuous 
 ly spurned the sympathy the Saxon Cantwell affected to 
 feel for her religion and her country ? " Yes, reader the 
 same. Meek, humble, supplicant as a child before the 
 altar, she was yet too honest to parade a mawkish sancti 
 mony before the eyes of men. She worshipped God, not 
 with the funereal dress, the stealthy step, the demure face, 
 the puritanic phraseology, or the saintly bearing of the 
 hypocrite ; but with her whole heart, in sincerity and 
 truth. She felt too great a reverence made too lordly 
 an estimate of the sublime religion she professed to 
 stoop to the tricks and jugglery of the sects to advance its 
 interests ; or as we have already seen when the 
 rights and claims of her unhappy country came up for dis 
 cussion, she did not think it more consonant with true 
 piety and humble trustfulness in Providence, to whimper, 
 and whine, and wait for the moment of mercy at the 
 tyrant s feet, than boldly to advance to the throne, and 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 247 
 
 demand a settlement of the account. In a word, reader, 
 as a Catholic, she was gay, cheerful, and happy ; as an 
 Irishwoman, impulsive and enthusiastic ; as both together, 
 inheriting as she did the oldest faith in Christendom, and 
 the oldest royal blood in the universe, she was what you 
 see her a proud worshipper at a humble altar. Oh, that 
 the present hour would give us men filled with hearts and 
 souls like hers, that we might see the young men of this 
 land rise from the feet of the Saviour inflamed with zeal 
 and devotion to their old faith and their old country, to do 
 battle, not with the fire or the sword, but with the manly 
 daring of proud indignant hearts united in the bonds of 
 Spartan brotherhood ! Oh, that we might see the young 
 men of Ireland give a new voice, and tone, and energy to 
 the sinking spirit of the land, that they were bold enough 
 to think, and speak, and act like free-born men, that we 
 could see them collar the " gluttonous despot," and hold 
 her down by the neck till she snuffed and sickened over 
 the blood she spilt on their soil, and that now steams up 
 in the face of heaven like the incense of ten thousand 
 hecatombs ! But no, and alas ! patience, patience, is still 
 the cry patience is still the only sound that issues from 
 the tribune and the pulpit. The selfish demagogue and 
 the pious ecclesiastic have so long wailed their " patience 
 chant " over desolate shrines and beggared worshippers, 
 that even now, when the worshippers are rotting, and the 
 shrines are plague-pits, they cannot stop the tune, but cry 
 on, till men are forced to put their fingers in their ears to 
 keep out the sickening drone. And these are the patriots, 
 the benefactors, the saviours of the nation ! They are the 
 evangelizers of heaven-born peace. They come with the 
 voices of angels to soothe down the indignant heart, to 
 teach men to die of famine for the love of God and the in 
 terests of their country, to hush them into silence and 
 resignation to their fate, when they appeal to them in the 
 name of a merciful God, for succor and counsel in their 
 
248 SHANDY M GUIRE, OK 
 
 hour of distress. They teach them to die with the grace 
 fulness of a Christian, " to place themselves before the 
 mirror, and make the stream of agony to flow decorously 
 down their foreheads, to writhe with grace and groan 
 with melody." And this is patriotism ! Out upon it ! 
 No honest man should speak it ; it sounds like traitor to 
 the heart, when the tongue gives it utterance. In after 
 years, when history " damns a man to everlasting fame," 
 it shall not call him sycophant, hypocrite, slave, and 
 traitor; but summing up all in one word, shall write 
 him down Patriot ! 
 
 " Listen," said the priest ; " she s praying listen." 
 " And now, oh my God," said Ellen, after a long silence, 
 and in a low whispering voice, yet plain and distinct in 
 the solemn stillness of the calm night, in the lonely, deso 
 late old church " now," she said, crossing her hands 
 upon her breast, " I have opened before you the inmost 
 recesses of my heart. I have stolen out in this dead hour 
 of night, that no eye might see me but thine, to unbosom 
 before you all my thoughts, sentiments, and affections. I 
 have even presumed to come within the sanctuary, that I 
 might be nearer to catch the breath of thy love and the 
 odor of thy sanctity. He has asked me to give him this 
 hand and heart ay, even by thy love has he invoked 
 me. And I love him, oh my God ! I love him with an 
 affection only inferior to my love of thee. He has prom 
 ised to embrace our holy religion, and guard the interests 
 of this wretched land. Pie is noble and generous, like the 
 ancient race from which he descends ; and requires but 
 thy light and grace to bring him back to thy banner, to 
 battle for the ancient faith, and the rights of thy suffering 
 but still faithful people. Lord, thou knowest best his 
 heart ; speak, then, to mine, and tell me, will he perform 
 his promise ? Tell me, Lord, is he prepared to sacrifice 
 his life for my religion and my country ? If not, I shall 
 never see him more never should these heart-strings 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 249 
 
 break in the parting. Rather would I feel this heart 
 within me wither day by day, in the darkest dungeon of 
 this old ruin beside me, through the longest span of human 
 life, than bestow it on the enemy of my creed or my race. 
 Be thou in this, as in all else, my director and my guide ; 
 leave me not to be governed by the impulse of a weak and 
 wayward spirit. Thou knowest I am but an orphan here 
 a stranger on my own native soil the last green twig 
 in the garden ; all the rest are cut down and withered. 
 If it be thy will it should flourish, oh ! let it bring forth 
 the flowers and fruit that so long graced the parent stock ; 
 or let it fall barren and sapless, like the broken reed. 
 Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth ; speak to my heart, 
 and tell me, will he fulfil his promise ? " 
 
 "In the face of death," said a voice, deep, mellow, and 
 distinct, from a remote corner of the church, and the next 
 instant Captain O Brien appeared walking up with a firm 
 and steady step towards the altar, his arms crossed on his 
 breast, and his sword clanking on the stone pavement as 
 he went. 
 
 Ellen uttered a scream of surprise not unmixed with 
 fear ; but turning to look in the direction whence the 
 voice proceeded, she recognized O Brien. 
 
 " Captain O Brien," she said, rising and stepping with 
 out the railing of the sanctuary, " I did not expect this 
 from you ; it is ungenerous, and " 
 
 " Peace, Ellen," said another voice, issuing from the lit 
 tle vestibule. 
 
 " Ellen," she repeated ; " who with such familiarity calls 
 me Ellen?" 
 
 " One who claims a right to do so," and Father Dom- 
 nick, accompanied by his old clerk, approached the altar. 
 
 At that moment the front door of the church was burst 
 open, and an officer of police, with a party of eight or ten 
 men, rushed in. Father Domnick took Ellen by the hand 
 and led her hastily to the private door ; hardly had she 
 
250 SHANDY M GUERE, OB 
 
 passed in and secured it by the bolt as he directed her, 
 when the officer was at his side, and demanded admission 
 in the king s name. 
 
 "None shall I give you," replied the priest; "this is 
 God s house, and I recognize here no authority but His." 
 
 " The house of the devil," said the man ; " open, or I 
 shall order my men to break it." 
 
 " Back, back, cowardly villain ! " cried O Brien, collar 
 ing the officer, who had then raised his sword to drive the 
 priest from the entrance, and flinging him with terrible 
 force against a pillar behind him ; " back, coward, and in 
 sult not an old man." 
 
 O Brien then turned his back to the little door, leaning 
 upon his naked sword, and apparently as much at ease as 
 if he had been giving orders to his own troop on parade. 
 The police stood round in a circle, with bayonets on their 
 carabines, ready to execute the orders of their superior, 
 and keeping their eyes steadily fixed on the two prisoners. 
 
 When the officer recovered from the effects of the stun 
 ning fall against the pillar, he ordered his men to handcuff 
 the priest and O Brien, at all hazards, and then force the 
 door to find the lady. 
 
 "For God s sake!" cried the priest, "spill no blood 
 here to desecrate the temple ; we have violated no law." 
 
 " It s false," interrupted the officer ; " you have married 
 that mongrel Protestant beside you to the Papist girl who 
 escaped." 
 
 " I take God to witness," said the old man, " I am guilt 
 less of the charge." 
 
 " Hear me," said O Brien ; " I love not the spilling of 
 blood under any pretence, not even that of an honorable 
 man and in honorable fight, much less surely that of a spy, 
 an assassin, and a coward, and least of all in the temple of 
 the God of peace and charity. Nevertheless, I shall not 
 leave this entrance unguarded, while I have strength to 
 stand and use this blade. The lady within I shall protect 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 251 
 
 with my life. We have violated no law ; even if we did, 
 you know the parties, and can easily find them on the 
 morrow." 
 
 While O Brien spoke, a thundering knock was heard at 
 the front door of the priest s house, and the officer de. 
 spatched one of his men to inquire the cause. The mes 
 senger did not return. 
 
 In the mean time the police officer directed the rest of 
 his men to close with O Brien, and they accordingly pre 
 sented their bayonets to his breast, and would probably 
 have ended in taking his life, but the bolt was suddenly 
 drawn back, and the door flew open. Then an arm was 
 stretched out from the doorway, and Father Domnick was 
 pulled into the dark entrance. 
 
 " Fall back, captain," said a well-known voice within. 
 
 " Shandy M ," ejaculated the priest. 
 
 " Hush, Father Domnick, not a word more ; get in here 
 and speak to the young lady." 
 
 Captain O Brien retreated till he reached the door of 
 the priest s study, when it opened again, and he found 
 himself locked in, and the presence of Ellen and the 
 priest. 
 
 " Lights, lights, men ! " vociferated the officer ; " strike a 
 light, some of you ; we can see nothing here." 
 
 "Hilloa," cried another of the party, "bring in that lamp 
 on the altar; one of you at the door there behind d ye 
 hear?" 
 
 Some one turned to execute the order, but the door was 
 locked and bolted. " Break it open, instantly," shouted 
 the officer ; " don t leave a board of it unbroken." " Aisy, 
 aisy avourneen," said a voice in reply; "don t be in sich a 
 passion for a thrifle." Ere the officer could turn round, the 
 speaker had gagged him and pinioned his arms behind 
 his back. " There, now, avourneen," he continued, whisper 
 ing the words in his ear, " don t be spoilin yer purty 
 voice spakin so loud ; this handkerchief 11 keep the 
 
252 SHANDY M GUIRE, OK 
 
 cowld air from giving ye a hoarseness in the throat; 
 too much i that same spakin s good for naither sowl nor 
 body." 
 
 Whilst the officer was being quieted in the manner de 
 scribed, the men who had turned to break the door, found 
 the bayonets were removed from their carabines, and 
 placed so disagreeably close to their breasts, that a for 
 ward motion of their bodies would bring them nearer 
 death s door than the church s. So they turned round in 
 the opposite direction, acquainting their officer of the state 
 of the case, but were much surprised to find how calmly 
 and silently he received the intelligence. We must look 
 after Shandy. 
 
 The reader will remember that our hero, after parting 
 with Colonel Templeton, made his way to the village, where 
 he resolved to spend the night. His object was to consult 
 his friends and acquaintances as to the best and speediest 
 means of liberating Frank Devlin. There was little time 
 to be lost, for on that very morning he ascertained from a 
 sure source, that Coulson, the bailiff, had discovered the 
 whereabouts of Dowser, and probably ere another day had 
 passed, would rescue him, and perhaps capture the party 
 who had him in keeping; then Devlin would certainly 
 be committed to Lifford jail, and be kept there till the 
 following September assizes ; for, as the reader is already 
 aware, it was only through the dread of the murder of 
 Dowser by the friends of young Devlin, that he had not 
 been sent to Lifford immediately after his arrest. 
 
 Shandy, with some half score of his trusty brethren, 
 were seated round a fire, smoking their pipes, and devis 
 ing their plans; some advising an assault on the prison, 
 others, more cautious, recommending easier and surer 
 schemes to overreach the keeper, who happened for the 
 time to be the sergeant of police. Shandy spoke little and 
 thought less of what his companions were submitting for 
 consideration to his superior genius and experience. In- 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 253 
 
 deed he never dreamt of taking any advice but his own, 
 and when he called his council around him, it was not to 
 hear their opinions, but to make some necessary inquiries 
 about the strength and accessibility of the prison, the char 
 acter and disposition of the keeper and his men, and then 
 deliver his ukase without ever imagining the possibility 
 of dissent. But on this occasion, and after all his inquiries, 
 Shandy found his talent for intrigue put to a very severe 
 trial ; so much so that he was about to make the most 
 humiliating avowal of his life, namely, that the matter was 
 too difficult for even him to accomplish, when Darby Gal- 
 laugher, the priest s clerk, was heard at the door shouting 
 for admittance. 
 
 "Run, run, Neddy Harly," cried the old man, almost 
 breathless from haste and the weight of years, as the door 
 opened ; " run to the sogers barrack, an tell them the cap 
 tain, an the priest, an Miss O Donnell, an every one of us 
 ill be kilt by the police av they don t hurry down ; run for 
 yer life, or they s be murthered." 
 
 " Aisy, Darby, an don t be in sich a pucker," said Shandy, 
 starting to his feet and taking the clerk by the arm ; " let 
 us hear all about it, man, an then we ll be a better jidge 
 of what s to be done. Stop, Neddy, till we hear the 
 story." ^ 
 
 Darby, with many expressions of anger and impatience 
 at the strange indifference Shandy M Guire manifested to 
 the danger in which Father Domnick was placed, never 
 theless gave a very correct, though brief statement of the 
 case. 
 
 " Very well, Darby, I see now how the matter stands," 
 replied Shandy ; " ye needn t mind the sodgers, Neddy," 
 he added ; " we ll sarve this turn ourselves. Come, boys, 
 to the chapel with ye;" and our hero, putting his pipe in 
 his waistcoat pocket, hurried on before them, and arrived 
 at the place just as Captain O Brien had taken his position 
 before the private door, to bar the pursuit of Ellen O Don 
 nell. 
 
254 SHANDY M GUIEE, OK 
 
 When the sergeant ran out to ascertain the cause of the 
 knocking at Father Domnick s hall door, Shandy was still 
 thundering away at a furious rate, his companions stand 
 ing about him and impatient for admittance. 
 
 " Hilloa," vociferated the sergeant, " here s a mob at 
 the door ; " and turning back, he attempted to regain 
 the church, in order to obtain a re-enforcement from 
 within, but Shandy s quick eye caught the tinsel stripes 
 on his arm, just then glittering in the clear moonlight, 
 and rapid as thought a new plan was arranged in his 
 mind. 
 
 "Ketch him, boys ketch him," he cried; " hould him 
 fast for yer lives." In another minute the sergeant was a 
 prisoner. 
 
 " Here, now, two av ye," he continued, in an under-tone 
 " pit a spenchel * on his tongue, an anither on his arms, 
 jist to keep them from waggin about in that oncivil fash 
 ion. We must tache him the haybrew" 
 
 The sergeant struggled hard, but the orders, notwith 
 standing, were executed in an incredibly short time. A 
 handkerchief was then tied over his eyes. 
 
 When the prisoner was secured, Shandy looked round 
 the group that encircled the prostrate sergeant (and by 
 which not a syllable was uttered during the struggle), as if 
 in search of a choice spirit among them, to aid him in the 
 accomplishment of his design. 
 
 " Come here, Pether Hanagan," said he at length, ad 
 dressing a stalwart young fellow, who was pinning up his 
 shirt collar, after having stripped it of the cravat to blind 
 fold the prisoner. " Come here," said he, speaking in an 
 under-tone; "yer a stranger, and yer face is not so well 
 known as this one V mine jist try now af the sergeant 
 has iver a key to spare in his pockets." 
 
 Hanagan took a large key from the breast-pocket of 
 
 * A fetter to prevent cows or horses from leaping fences. 
 
THICKS UPON TEAVELLEKS. 255 
 
 the sergeant s well-buttoned jacket, and handed it to 
 Shandy. 
 
 Shandy examined the key for an instant, turning it up 
 and down, that he might catch the reflection of the moon 
 upon it. 
 
 " That s it," he said at length ; " I know it av ould 
 it s not the-day nor yisterday we become acquent. Here, 
 Pether, there s not a sowl in the barracks, or this piece 
 av iron wudn t be had so aisy ; take it, an run as fast 
 as av yer neck was on the race. Open the front doore 
 i the prison, turn into the sergeant s room on the left, 
 an ye ll get the key av Frank s cell on the nail ahint 
 the doore ; then folli on the hall through an through, ti 
 ye come to the end av it. Rap there, an if Frank s 
 livin , he ll hear an answer ye. Open, and tell him, av 
 he s not afeerd i takin the rheumatis this cowld night, 
 that we d lake to spake to him a thrifle. Run, now, for 
 yer life." 
 
 "An will I let out Hudy M Gettigan too ? " demanded 
 Hanagan. 
 
 " Away, man," reiterated Shandy, pushing the messenger 
 before him, "and do only what yer bid. Hudy s safe enough 
 never mind him away, and make haste back again." 
 He then turned to give further directions to his compan 
 ions. 
 
 The time occupied in securing the sergeant could not 
 have exceeded two minutes, though it requires double the 
 number to relate the circumstance ; for Darby had merely 
 time to raise the kitchen window, creep in, and open the 
 door from the inside, when Shandy, having dismissed Han 
 agan, and placed a sentinel over the sergeant, entered the 
 priest s house, and began to act "his part as we have al 
 ready described. His design was to detain the police, at 
 every risk to himself and his party, until the messenger 
 returned with Devlin ; and his quick perception at once 
 showed him how easy that was to manage, if he could 
 
256 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 but draw them into the dark passage. The retreat of 
 Captain O Brien, as we have seen, answered that purpose 
 admirably. 
 
 The imprisonment of the police had lasted scarcely ten 
 minutes (during which there was little to be heard but 
 curses and imprecations of all possible shades of intensity, 
 on papists and Ribbonmen, priests and priestcraft, with a 
 few screams intermingled from time to time, as the bayo 
 nets scraped too intimate an acquaintance with the sides 
 of their owners), when a knock loud and rapid was heard 
 on the outside, accompanied by a cheer. Then the doors 
 flew open, and the rescuing party, who had taken care to oc 
 cupy the two extremities of the hall, rushed out simultane 
 ously in both directions, the bayonets still gleaming in their 
 hands. When they reached the open street, they sent 
 back a cheer so loud, long, and triumphant, that the old 
 church rang out again its thanks and congratulations, and 
 the watch-dogs of the village, roused from their lairs by 
 the sudden and unusual noise, joined in with a continuous 
 howl, as the party ran on, and the flagged pavement rattled 
 under their feet. 
 
 This chapter is already too long ; we shall therefore de 
 tain the reader only to inform him that, whilst the police 
 party in the dark passage were heaping sundry heavy curses 
 on the priest, the captain, and the lady in the little parlor, 
 the latter personages were pleasantly engaged in account 
 ing to each other for the strange coincidence of their meet 
 ing at the same time in the old church ; and, if the truth 
 must be told, in making arrangements for soon meeting 
 there again ; and furthermore, to assure the reader that the 
 police officer, after being released from his chains and cap 
 tivity, had cooled down wonderfully from the high Orange- 
 heat he had manifested but half an hour before, and final 
 ly came to the wise, sober conclusion, that, all things con 
 sidered, it were better to let things remain as they were, 
 and when the morrow came, to report the case fully and 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 257 
 
 leisurely to the magistrate. He accordingly proceeded 
 home, after liberating the sergeant, and like a prudent man 
 retired to rest, fully persuaded that his design was frus 
 trated not by the ingenuity of man, but by the mysterious 
 agency of priestcraft and popery. 
 17 
 
258 SHANDY M GUIBE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADOWS. 
 
 As soon as the police had quitted Father Domnick s, 
 O Brien conducted Ellen to a little postern-gate opening 
 into General Johnston s garden, through which she had 
 found her way that night to the old church. Having ta 
 ken his leave, he returned to consult his old friend on 
 certain points which interested him very much. 
 
 Whatever may have been the subject of conversation, 
 it certainly caused a strong evidence of excitement to 
 appear in the countenance of the priest ; for instead of the 
 quiet smile that usually overspread his face when convers 
 ing with his friends, there was now a stern expression to 
 be seen, darkening more and more every instant, like the 
 breeze s rising breath rippling the surface of the still 
 water. His head was supported by the left arm leaning 
 on the table, whilst the fore-finger of the right hand kept 
 twirling his silver snuff-box round and round, quicker and 
 quicker, as O Brien s speech and bearing grew more ani 
 mated, till the old man at length broke forth in a tone so 
 deep, so severe, and yet so plaintive, that O Brien was 
 sensibly affected. 
 
 "Slavery slavery! thou art hard to bear," he said, 
 speaking rather to himself than his companion ; " hard to 
 him at least whose blood has been transmitted him through 
 the veins of a hundred kings. Yet I could bear it ay, 
 indeed, I could bear it without a murmur, in the dungeon 
 or the exile, if it were but granted me, before my dying 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 259 
 
 hour, to hear that this old land was free. But alas ! it 
 shall not be so ! for my time is but short far too short 
 for the accomplishment of such a glorious event. You, 
 Feargus," and the speaker raised his eyes till they en 
 countered those of his companion fixed upon him, and 
 beaming with the intensity of passionate thought, " you 
 may live to see it perhaps to take a lead in the great 
 work. You are now intoxicated with the glory of your 
 profession. Impelled and hurried on by the enthusiasm 
 of your race, you fly to the battle-field without reflecting 
 in whose cause or for whose aggrandizement you fight ; 
 but a day will corne yet, when your eyes shall see and 
 your heart shall feel the tyranny, and the shame and the 
 indignities which this land has been made to endure." 
 
 " It has come," cried the young soldier, rising suddenly 
 from the chair and pacing the apartment, with his arms 
 folded on his breast, his long hair falling in rich, dark 
 locks over his high, broad temples, and his princely coun 
 tenance speaking forth the passion that agitated his soul. 
 " It has come, sir ; never more shall I wear the livery of 
 England. True, sir, you have said it, the glory of her 
 achievements abroad has hitherto blinded me to her re 
 lentless tyranny at home. Taught, as I have been from 
 my childhood, to despise my native land because it was 
 Catholic, and to ambition the high military honors of my 
 ancestors, some of whom derived their greatest honors 
 from the seventies they practised upon men of your very 
 order, no wonder that in the bustle of the camp and the 
 court, I should be regardless of the miseries of this un 
 happy country. But now and at last I am roused from 
 the deceitful dream. Now I am alive to the stern reality. 
 I, whose noble lineage was respected abroad, am at home 
 reduced below the rank of the minions of Cromwell or 
 William. Ay, standing on my own soil, where my foot 
 should tread firmer, and my arm feel stronger, and my 
 blood mount higher, from the very thought that it was 
 
260 SHANDY M GUIRE, OK 
 
 my own ay, here, sir, I am made to regard myself as an 
 obscure stranger, breathing the free air of my own native 
 mountains less by right than by sufferance. God of heav 
 en ! " he continued, quickening his pace, and speaking with 
 increased animation, u you never gave me this proud blood 
 that boils within me to stagnate at the feet of a foreign 
 despot. You never willed that I should bow down and 
 kiss the hand that now scourges the children of this land, 
 who call me brother. Shall alien upstarts smile contemp 
 tuously at my Irish birth, and that, too, here here, at my 
 very door, almost on the spot where I was born ? Shall 
 the little lordlings of an hour, the purchased tools of a 
 suicidal minister, whom he used as he would pawns in a 
 chess-game, the venders of our country s rights, shall 
 they be permitted to treat us here like whipped spaniels, 
 on the very land that bore us, and yet no remonstrance 
 from our lips ? Oh, that we could unite once more, that 
 Catholic and Protestant would join hands like brothers, 
 in truth and honest fealty, that, forgetting all sectarian 
 animosity, we could walk up to the throne, and there, 
 unawed by fear and untrammelled by favors, confront the 
 despot, and boldly demand the restitution of our long lost 
 rights ! " 
 
 The priest raised his head, and gazed in astonishment at 
 the speaker. 
 
 " You think it strange, Father," he continued, replying 
 to the question conveyed so clearly in the old man s look. 
 " You think it strange I should speak thus ; but you mis 
 take me. It is not from the impulse of the moment I 
 speak. No, no for some time these have been my 
 thoughts; it is now for the first time I have given them 
 utterance. I have long struggled to keep back the indig 
 nant thoughts that burned to find freedom in speech, and 
 which every new injury and insult accumulated. I have 
 long tried to keep my natural feelings in abeyance, 
 and with difficulty I succeeded ; but the outrage of last 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 261 
 
 night has put an end to the struggle. I dream no more 
 of the advent of better times. I leave it no longer to 
 Providence to work miracles in softening the hearts of our 
 rulers. No God wills that our own free speech and our 
 own native independent spirit shall win our freedom. 
 Surrounded as I have been from my boyhood, by friends 
 and relatives as dear to me as life, I felt it hard to break 
 from them, and all the old associations with which mem 
 ory had bound them up. It was hard to bring myself to 
 regard them as foes to my political creed, and enemies to 
 iny country s weal. It was hard to do it but it s done. 
 4 Country before friends ^ind God before all, is an old and 
 a true saying, and shall henceforth be my motto. My 
 spirit long fretted and chafed under the daily provocations 
 which I, in common with my countrymen, have borne ; 
 but that endurance has ended : tyranny, and outrage, and 
 insult, heaped upon one another, have at length crushed 
 it out of my heart, and now a nobler, sterner feeling has 
 come to occupy its place. Ay, even the black slaves of 
 the south will not always suffer with patience the whip 
 and the triangle ; Ihere is a measure of severity which 
 even they cannot bear, but will turn with a fearful ven 
 geance on the slave-master. Slaves of a proscribed and 
 beggared race, we have still some remnant of our former 
 fires : the lights are extinguished, but the embers still re 
 main yes, enough, old man, to rekindle in the hearts of 
 millions an unquenchable flame." 
 
 The priest started. 
 
 "Feargus," he ejaculated, " this is treason ! What, im 
 brue your hands " 
 
 " No, no," interrupted his companion quickly ; " you mis 
 take again. There are other means to win our freedom 
 besides the fire and the sword." 
 
 " And these are " 
 
 "Native pride and native eloquence they can win it. 
 Pride to fling back in the face of the government the 
 
262 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 bribes they offer us under the names of places and pen 
 sions ; and eloquence, such as this land may well boast of, 
 to expose and denounce to the world the profligacy, the 
 deception, and the reckless injustice of our rulers. Give 
 me but these give me but pride enough to make us 
 scorn a servile dependence on England, and eloquence to 
 arouse and concentrate the intelligence, the talent, and, 
 above all, the honest, young, unbroken, and unpurchasa- 
 ble spirits of the land, and England would not dare, sir, 
 to refuse our rights and liberties." 
 
 " -Dare /" said the priest "has she not dared every 
 thing? What! look round from the shore to the centre 
 of this island, and tell me, is there a single village that 
 does not speak its little story of her daring f Dare, 
 young man ! has she not dared to rob us of all that was 
 worth living for? Has she not razed our churches, burned 
 our convents and monasteries, banished or murdered the 
 priests of God upon the altar, not in a moment of 
 frenzy, or in the tumult of war, but with the cool, steady 
 purpose of the midnight assassin? Ha, Feargus, you can 
 not yet comprehend the measure of England s hate to this 
 country. A mind young and generous like yours cannot 
 conceive how, for so many centuries, she has never ceased 
 for one moment to persecute us, till at length she reduced 
 us to beggary and starvation, and then threw herself upon 
 us or, rather, her religion, her laws, and her military 
 like a deadly incubus, to crush out or smother the last 
 spark of national spirit that remained. But why why 
 did she not destroy all ? why did she leave us these sad 
 mementoes?" continued the priest, in a voice low and full 
 of feeling, and pointing to the venerable relic the old 
 castle of the O Donnells that stood, skeleton-like, with 
 in a few paces of the window where he sat. " Had she 
 destroyed every vestige of our glory and our greatness, 
 by razing to the very foundations our old castles and our 
 venerable, time-honored monasteries, so that not a stone 
 
TEICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 263 
 
 should be left upon another, we might in time be made to 
 forget what we once were. But alas ! the old walls bring 
 back again old memories, and as the eye rests on the ivied 
 ruin, the heart yearns for the days that are gone. Oh, 
 there is a melancholy pleasure in living near that old ruin 
 it does me good to look upon it and yet at times I 
 almost wish it was not there ; for, do you know, Feargus, 
 the children in the streets sometimes mock my gray hairs, 
 and grown men insult me as I pass them by, because I try 
 to watch over the little fold which the Lord has intrusted 
 to my keeping ; and then as I think of old times, when 
 the people of all this land were God s own children, and 
 the princes and chiefs were the protectors of religion and 
 of its servants, my eye unconsciously seeks the old castle, 
 and then I feel the pride, the old family pride rising 
 within me as it used to do when I was young, and in a 
 manner not at all becoming the spirit of rny sacred call 
 ing. Yes, indeed, I often wish I was not descended from 
 the race of the Baldearags, for they were a proud race. 
 Had I been of meaner origin, I m sure I would have been 
 a better priest ; or had I remained in Spain, where I fled 
 to hide myself in the monastery of my order, far from the 
 sight of the persecutions and miseries of this unfortunate 
 country, I might perhaps have been comparatively happy ; 
 but I could not rest there I longed to see the old place 
 again, to wander about amid the scenes of my boyhood, 
 and, if God willed it, to dispense the mysteries of our holy 
 religion among the poor people whose ancestors were once 
 the retainers of our house. Every evening, when my sa 
 cred duties do not call me elsewhere, I steal into these old 
 walls, to read my breviary and tell my beads on the steps 
 of the little altar, which is yet to be seen in the eastern 
 wing of the castle. It was but yesterday I found Ellen 
 there, deciphering the inscription on the mantel-piece in the 
 great hall. She was alone, and so absorbed in her task that 
 she did not observe me till I was at her side." 
 
264 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 "Strange," said bis companion, resuming his seat; 
 " strange you have not yet revealed yourself to her. Me- 
 thinks if I were the relation of Ellen O Donnell, I would 
 not leave her so long to the care of the stranger." 
 
 " She believes me dead," replied the priest ; " and it s 
 better so, yet for a little time : perhaps it may never be 
 prudent to disclose the secret." 
 
 " Has she made any inquiries of you about her uncle ? " 
 
 " Yes, but only once. She told me then she believed 
 him dead ; for there had been no intelligence of him for 
 seven years. Poor thing ! when I saw her yesterday in 
 the castle, so lonely and so sad, I pitied her, and it was 
 with difficulty I refrained from embracing and consoling 
 her with the thought that her old uncle was near to watch 
 and guard her " 
 
 Here the conversation was suddenly interrupted. The 
 noise of horses feet was heard rattling up to the hall-door, 
 and instantly a voice demanded to know if Father Dom- 
 nick was at home. 
 
 " What s the matter ? " inquired the priest, following 
 O Brien from the room. 
 
 " It s a man that s murdhered, yer reverence," replied 
 the rider, leaping from the horse s back, and taking off his 
 hat reverently to the old clergyman. 
 
 " Murdered ! where ? " 
 
 " At Nancy Kelly s, i the gap, please yer reverence. 
 He s all but gone ; ye ll hardly ketch him livin ." 
 
 "Who is he?" asked the priest. 
 
 " Feen a one i myself knows, yer reverence ; he s a 
 stranger in these parts." 
 
 " Have you not heard his name ? " 
 
 "Why, then, now that I remember I heard them, 
 callin him Doogan." 
 
 " Doogan, the drover ? " 
 
 " Fegs, I ll warrint he s that same, seein he s lake one 
 ony way, with his leather gaiters, an his big coat, an his 
 glazed hat." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 265 
 
 " He s not a Catholic he don t want me, does he ? " 
 inquired the priest. 
 
 " Well, as to that, yer reverence, why am not jist par- 
 fet; but ould Nancy sent me afther ye, full skutch, an 
 more betoken she tould me to bring the docthor too, for 
 he s cut up in smitherens. Troth, yer reverence, Father 
 Domnick, it pit myself all in the doldrums when I seen 
 him ; for he s a poor sight to luck at, so he is." 
 
 The priest paused a moment to reflect ; he remembered 
 having received papers from the stranger woman whom he 
 prepared for death at the Cairn some twelve months be 
 fore, and at whose call the Rev. Baxter Cantwell refused 
 to attend. Then turning to O Brien, he observed 
 
 " This looks serious, Captain O Brien I believe I must 
 go. Will you accompany me ? Perhaps he may yet be 
 able to make a deposition. You are still a magistrate to 
 take it is it not so ? " 
 
 "I still hold the commission to-morrow s mail may 
 bring the supersedeas. But let us act while we may. I 
 shall accompany you as soon as I can find a horse and an 
 orderly at the barracks." 
 
 Captain O Brien abruptly quitted the house, and hurried 
 to his quarters. 
 
 Father Domnick dispatched the messenger for Dr. Snod- 
 grass, and then mounting his horse, assisted by his venera 
 ble and faithful servant, Darby Gallaugher, rode on as fast 
 as old age and recent fatigue would permit him. 
 
 In a few minutes O Brien, attended by an orderly, came 
 up with the priest, and the three, after an hour s ride, 
 arrived at Nancy Kelly s together. 
 
 They found Doogan the butcher stretched on a bed in a 
 corner of the little cabin, bleeding somewhat profusely 
 from the right arm and side. Nancy was busily employed 
 washing the wounds, and stanching the blood with cob 
 webs and -cotton-wool, while "Dick the Omedaun " knelt 
 at the bedside, holding a basin of water. The wounded 
 
266 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 man lay on his back, breathing heavily, and quite insensi 
 ble. Father Domnick approached the bed, and found, on 
 examination, that some sharp instrument, probably a dag 
 ger or bayonet, had passed through the fleshy part of the 
 arm above the elbow, and under the shoulder of the same 
 side a gash some six inches long, as deep as the ribs would 
 permit, and inflicted apparently by the same or a similar 
 sharp weapon. Neither of these wounds, however, was 
 by any means mortal, though they must have presented, 
 to the inexperienced eyes of the simple rustics round the 
 bed, an alarming appearance. 
 
 " Where was this man found ? " inquired Captain O Brien 
 of a tall, stalwart, red- whiskered, middle-aged man, dressed 
 in a blue freize overcoat and corduroy knee-breeches. 
 "Where did you find him ?" 
 
 "Not five tether lengths, yer honor; jist down below 
 the house here in the holla," replied the man. 
 
 "Did you find him insensible, as he is now ? " 
 
 " In the very way you see him, sir, an his horse grazin 
 aside him on the brew i the ditch." 
 
 " Could he have lain long on the road before you reached 
 him?" 
 
 " Why, then, in regard to that, am not jist a jide i 
 time, plase yer honor ; but ony way, he cudn t be more 
 nor the matther i five minits, more or less ; for whin Peter 
 Hanagan an myself tapped the hill on this side v Shane 
 Dunion s, we heerd him shoutin murdher below, and we 
 run like mad as fast as lamplighters." 
 
 " Did you hear him mention any name ? " 
 
 " Feen a one, yer honor." 
 
 " Did you see any one running from the direction of 
 the place where he fell ? " 
 
 " Not a creathur, sir." 
 
 "You might; for it was moonlight." 
 
 " True enough, we might, as yer honor says, only for 
 the turf-stacks atween iz an them." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 267 
 
 "Did you find any arms or weapons about the place 
 where the wounded man lay ? " 
 
 " Not a hap orth ban-in this." And the man took from 
 a table behind him a piece of polished steel about four 
 inches long and tri-edged like a bayonet, with blood upon 
 it. He handed it to O Brien. 
 
 O Brien examined it for an instant, and then said, 
 
 " This is the point of a cane-sword, or rapier. I shall 
 keep it. Trifling as it appears, it may lead to the detec 
 tion of the party." 
 
 "Begorra," broke in Dick "if that isn t lake the thing 
 Mr. Coulson scared me with, so it is." 
 
 " Who is Coulson ? " demanded O Brien. 
 
 " He s a mighty bad man as bad as his master a rnost," 
 muttered Dick; "only he didn t brak poor Mary s heart." 
 
 " Whisht with yer nonsense," said his mother in a severe 
 tone, " an hould the basin. Niver mind him, yer honor, 
 captain," she continued, addressing the officer; "shure 
 he s a poor witless creathur, and disn t know what he be s 
 sayin ." 
 
 O Brien again turned to the tall, red-whiskered man, 
 and asked if Doogan had spoken since he was found on 
 the road. He was answered in the negative. 
 
 " What s your name ? " he again demanded. 
 
 " Why, am called Jemmy Galinaugh, yer honor, for 
 want av a betther." 
 
 " Where were you going, when you found this man ? " 
 
 "Not far, sir only up the hill here a piece." And the 
 man smiled as he answered. 
 
 "Ha! you are the famous Galinaugh of Lough Dev- 
 nish?" 
 
 " So they say, yer honor." 
 
 " Well, I shall ask no more questions now I hear the 
 doctor coming ; but observe, you and your companion here 
 will hold yourselves in readiness to appear as witnesses in 
 this case when called on." 
 
268 SHANDY M GUIBE, OR 
 
 The door opened, and our quondam friend, Dr. Snod- 
 grass, entered, bowing most obsequiously to the priest and 
 the officer, assuring them of the fact that he did not lose 
 a moment at his toilet, so anxious was he in this instance 
 (as indeed he was in all cases) to assist to the utmost ex 
 tent of his poor abilities in the preservation of human life. 
 " He was sure he must look frightful in his present ill-reg 
 ulated dress, and dishevelled hair ; but," he added smil 
 ingly, " that matters of such minor consideration ought 
 never be thought of, when the life of a fellow-creature was 
 in danger." 
 
 Having spent a minute or two in arranging his fair locks 
 according to habit, and turning up the cuffs of his jockey- 
 coat, he approached the patient and commenced the exam 
 ination. Having satisfied himself as to the nature of the 
 wounds, he set about preparing bandages, salves, lint, 
 adhesive plasters, <fcc., with wonderful assiduity, giving the 
 officer and the priest, at the same time, a lengthy and very 
 luminous expose of the case before him, not omitting a 
 single professional term that could possibly be introduced 
 for the illustration of the subject. 
 
 " Do you think the man will live ? " inquired the priest, 
 interrupting the doctor at the most interesting point of 
 his exposition. 
 
 "Pardon me, reverend sir, I was just about to explain." 
 
 " I thank you, doctor ; but I cannot understand your 
 explanation." 
 
 " Ha, ha well, well the terms we use are somewhat 
 difficult to those who have not studied our profession. 
 Yes, sir ; very well to your question, * Will he live ? I 
 have only to reply, that it does not depend at all upon the 
 depth or severity of the lesions under the shoulder and on 
 the arm, but on the nature of the blow or contusion he 
 received on the left temple a thing which I rather think 
 has escaped your observation." 
 
 " I wish to know, sir," persisted the priest, " whether, 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 269 
 
 after the examination you have made, you can offer an 
 opinion ? " 
 
 " Well, sir," responded Snodgrass, putting a spoonful of 
 liquid medicine to the lips of the patient, " as to an opin 
 ion, I may be permitted to observe, that if we follow the 
 Scotch schools, of which I might venture to say I know 
 something, having studied both in Edinburgh and Glasgow 
 
 here the patient opened his eyes, and looked about him 
 
 I might venture to say he will recover." 
 
 " And how long may it be, sir, before he can make his 
 deposition ? " inquired O Brien. 
 
 " That depends, captain, in a very great measure on the 
 length of time it may require to make it." 
 
 " Pardon me, doctor," said the priest, passing him rather 
 abruptly, and taking a seat beside the bed. " I wish to 
 speak a few words to him." 
 
 Father Domnick bent down his head close to the sick 
 man s, and whispered something in his ear. The effect 
 was instantaneous. The patient turned quickly on his 
 side, and looking steadily in the old man s face, said, 
 
 " Ha ! I thocht she burned the bit papers ? " 
 
 "No," replied the priest; "she gave them to me in 
 charge." 
 
 "Ye hae na read them hae ye ?" 
 
 " Yes ; by her request." 
 
 " Weel, weel, I dinna care now. Sin a my hopes are 
 gane aglee, I ll e en mak a clean breast o ut." 
 
 " If you wish," said the priest, " I shall place these pa 
 pers in your own hands, and promise you their contents 
 shall ever be regarded by me as an inviolable secret." 
 
 " Na, na," replied Doogan, " dinna gi them up. If I 
 live, the folks at the Castle may gie me a guid penny for 
 them ; an if I die, why, the sooner the warld kens o their 
 doins, the better. Dinna lose them. Haud them weel." 
 
 " Here," said Father Domnick, pointing to O Brien, "is 
 a magistrate ready to take your deposition, if you think 
 
270 SHANDY M GUIKE, OK 
 
 you are sufficiently recovered to make it. He came to visit 
 you for that purpose." O Brien approached the bed, and 
 took Doogan by the hand. 
 
 " Captain O Brien !" ejaculated the wounded man, with 
 some surprise; " why, sir, I didna expec to meet you here. 
 But sure yer no a justice now, mun ye hae lost your com 
 mission/ 
 
 " How did you ascertain that ? " 
 
 " Frae that deevil s bird, Archy Cantwell twas him. 
 seP that did it." 
 
 " He has misinformed you, Doogan ; the supersedeas 
 has not yet come to hand. I am a magistrate still, and 
 prepared to take your deposition. Are you willing to 
 make it ? " 
 
 " Ay, ay, mun ; I ne er did a deed wi mair pleesure. I m 
 na muckle beholden to the Castle, an as for Archy Cant- 
 well, I trow these scars I hae met wi canna plead muckle 
 in his behoof. He s a hell-born deevil, an his father, wi 
 a his prayers an preachin , is na sae much ahint him. 
 Hugh, hugh ! ay, I ll tell the tale, should they thaw my 
 wizen for t." 
 
 "You speak as if you suspected Mr. Cantwell of being 
 concerned in the waylaying." 
 
 " Suspec ! hugh, mun, it s mair nor a that. I kenn d 
 the face and tongue o Coulson the bailie, the minit I saw 
 him, before he felled me frae the powney ; an I m no sae 
 dowey as not to know he was sent after me by his mas 
 ter." 
 
 "Then you believe Coulson to have been one of the per 
 sons who waylaid you ! " 
 
 " I ll swear it on a the beuks that ever wir shut or 
 opened." 
 
 Captain O Brien paused for an instant to reflect, and 
 then beckoning to his orderly, left the house. In a mo 
 ment after, horses feet were heard in full gallop from the 
 door, and O Brien returned to take Doogan s deposition. 
 
TEICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 271 
 
 
 The latter was now so far recovered from the stunning 
 
 effects of the blow, or fall on the temple, as to be able to 
 speak without much pain or effort. As for the wounds, 
 they were severe, but by no means dangerous. 
 
 Doogan requested the house to be cleared of all but the 
 priest, the magistrate, Nancy Kelly, and Jemmy Galinaugh. 
 Dr. Snodgrass, having declared the patient out of danger, 
 intimated his intention of returning home ; but Captain 
 O Brien, for certain reasons of his own, thought it advisa 
 ble to detain him for some time, and having politely ex 
 pressed himself to that effect, directed one of the neigh 
 bors to watch, and if he attempted escape, to prevent 
 him. A table was then placed beside the wounded man s 
 bed ; and the magistrate, having procured writing mate 
 rials, sat down before it, and wrote, as the deponent dic 
 tated, the following sworn deposition. In order to prevent 
 the reader s mistaking so important a document, we shall 
 dispense with the Scotch dialect, and give it in plain, read 
 able English. 
 
 THE DEPOSITION. 
 
 " I am commonly called Daniel Doogan. My real name, 
 however, is Daniel M Kenzie. I am a butcher by trade, 
 but have followed droving for the last two years that 
 business according best with the nature of my other avo 
 cations. I am a native of Greenock, Scotland. I was for 
 some time a constable of police in Bandon, county Cork, 
 where I was dismissed eighteen months ago for reasons 
 best known to the government. I left my wife and three 
 children in Dublin under the care of an officer of the execu 
 tive, after I had received an appointment in the secret ser 
 vice of the government. My wife knew nothing of the 
 nature of my employment, nor of the name I had assumed. 
 I was obliged to make oath on the Evangelists never to 
 reveal my real name, except to those whose addresses were 
 given me by a person whom I did not know, and whom 
 
272 SHANDY M GUIEE, OR 
 
 I have never seen since I met him by appointment in a 
 dark room at the headquarters of the constabulary, and 
 from him there received my instructions. Since then I 
 have been employed in the counties Derry and Donegal. 
 I receive my pay quarterly, and in such a manner as to 
 prevent any possibility of my detecting the place or the 
 person whence it comes. My principal duty is to trace out 
 Ribbon papers, and other such proofs of Ribbon conspira 
 cies. In order the more easily to effect my purposes, I 
 have had myself sworn in a member of a Ribbon lodge, 
 and by that means have free access to all the Ribbon meet 
 ings in the province of Ulster, but especially to those of 
 the counties Derry and Donegal. When it happened, as 
 it did very often, that a person or persons were -suspected 
 of Ribbonism, without sufficient legal evidence of the fact, 
 I was at liberty to counterfeit or procure Ribbon papers, 
 such as certificates of admission or of rank ; and having 
 placed them in possession of the suspected individuals, 
 give information to the police. When the immediate arrest 
 of the party was required, as for example, in fairs or mar 
 kets, and when Ribbon papers should be found on the per 
 son, then the man was marked out from the crowd, and 
 the Ribbon paper deposited in his pocket, boot, &c., &c. ; 
 but where the information was against a lodge-meeting, it 
 became often necessary to be more cautious and circum 
 spect. In such cases I generally managed to ascertain the 
 precise hour of the meeting two or three days before it took 
 place, and then passing on to the nearest police barrack, 
 deposit the information in the post-office. These post-offices 
 were of a very unusual kind, being nothing more than 
 hiding-places in stone walls, old decayed houses, and but- 
 ments of bridges, known only to myself and the police 
 sergeant of the district. They were always close by the 
 barracks, and examined at night to escape observation. 
 One of these post-offices is in Barnes Gap, not far from 
 the Stranorlar police station. If you wish to see the 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 273 
 
 place and the papers there concealed, take Duncan, and he 
 will carry you to the spot. In order to obtain my quarter s 
 salary, it is necessary I should have a certificate of trust 
 worthiness and assiduity in discharge of my duties, signed 
 by one of the leading members of an Orange lodge. Mr. 
 Archibald Cantwell, the Agent of Colonel Templeton, is 
 the gentleman who has hitherto signed them for me when 
 in this section of the country. I have known him intimate 
 ly for the last two years. I saw him to-night, about eight 
 o clock, at the house of Wm. Coulson, his bailiff. He was 
 much excited, his garments soiled and torn ; he said he 
 had just then been attacked by some one at the back en 
 trance to the demesne, and would have been strangled but 
 for the timely intervention of the priest. After he had 
 sat for some time, and his excitement somewhat abated, I 
 applied to him for his customary signature. He refused, 
 assigning as a reason that I was undeserving of confidence, 
 having lodged a written information with the revenue po 
 lice officer in Donegal, of two casks of unpermitted liquor 
 to be found in his father s cellar. This I at once denied. 
 I never did make such information ; nor indeed could I, 
 for till that moment I was entirely ignorant of the Rev. 
 Mr. Cantwell having smuggled liquor in his possession. 
 He persisted, nevertheless, and declared he had learned 
 the fact from a revenue police sergeant, who saw me 
 hand the letter to the guard, and who afterwards read it 
 himself. He then ordered me from his presence, and de 
 clared, that in requital of my treachery, he would never 
 consent to give me Jemmy Connor s farm in Tubbernasig- 
 gart, of which he had already promised to put me in pos 
 session, as soon as the old man could be ejected. I re 
 monstrated strongly against this breach of faith, and at 
 length declared, if he did not redeem his pledge, I would 
 make a public avowal of all the secret services in which he 
 had employed me. He only laughed at the threat, and 
 said he would take care that no revelation of the kind 
 18 
 
274 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 should take place, looking round, at the same time, very 
 significantly at Coulson and two others who were present 
 during the conversation. This unexpected and sudden 
 downfall of my long-cherished hope enraged me beyond 
 measure, and throwing off all reserve, I charged him openly 
 with having directed me to put a Ribbon paper on the 
 person of Frank Devlin, and afterwards to proceed to 
 the barracks and order the sergeant to arrest and search 
 him ; that by his special orders I deposited Ribbon papers 
 and bullet-moulds in the house of Hugh M Gettigan, and 
 that he confessed to me Jemmy Connor was due no arrears 
 of rent ; but that having discovered the old man had lost 
 a receipt for money paid some six years ago, he was 
 resolved to force the daughter to submit to his wishes 
 through fear of the father s ejection from his property. 
 This last disclosure made him furious, and snatching a 
 holster-pistol from the wall beside him, he snapped it in 
 my face. It did not explode. He then caught it by the 
 barrel, and attempted to strike me with the butt upon the 
 head ; I evaded the blow, and stepped back towards the 
 open door, when Coulson and the two others followed me, 
 doubtless with the intention of taking my life, but, for 
 tunately for me, the key was in the door, and drawing it 
 suddenly after me, I locked it on the outside. I then ran 
 at my utmost speed till I reached the town, fully convinced 
 that if the party had overtaken me, I would have been 
 murdered, to prevent the possibility of such mysterious 
 revelations as I could make. Having remained for a little 
 more than an hour at the tavern, during which I took 
 some refreshment and baited my horse, I set out on my 
 way to Stranorlar ; when about a quarter of a mile from 
 this house, I was attacked by three men, having their faces 
 blacked; one of them I swear to be Coulson; I knew his 
 face and voice notwithstanding the disguise. He struck 
 me on the head with some heavy weapon, like the butt of a 
 carabine, and I fell instantly from my horse. I know noth- 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 275 
 
 ing of what happened after, till I found myself here a few- 
 minutes ago. When I opened my eyes and looked around, 
 I became in an instant aware of what had befallen me." 
 Here the deponent ended. 
 
 O Brien read over the deposition slowly and distinctly; 
 after which Doogan signed it, as did also the witnesses. 
 
 "Now," said the magistrate, after Nancy had admin 
 istered some cordial to the sick man, " I shall ask you a few 
 questions, which you may answer, or not, as you please. 
 Do you know aught of a ring that has been frequently 
 seen on Mr. Archibald Cantwell s finger, during the past 
 month ? " 
 
 " I do ; it belongs to a young lass they ca Miss O Don- 
 nell ; she bides at the General s ; she was robbed o t, if I 
 dinna mak a mistake, somewhere aboot the 26th o July 
 last." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " Weel, captain, that maun be a secret i my ain just now. 
 I spier there s na use in bein unco glegg aboot it." 
 
 "As you please. You are not required to make any 
 avowal that will criminate yourself. But how came Mr. 
 Cantwell by that ring? " 
 
 " I gied it him." 
 
 " Did he know to whom it belonged ?" 
 
 "Na, na I didna tell him that. I gied it under pre 
 tence o findin it ten or twal years sin, syne on the road 
 to Ballycastle, where I gaed to buy a powney." 
 
 " Were you aware of the value of the ring, when you 
 presented it to him ? " 
 
 " Ou, ay ; I thocht the bit bawble was o some value, 
 but didna care a bodle about it for my ain use, and as ye 
 may easy ken, I wudna think it ower safe to sell it." 
 
 "Did Mr. Cantwell know the device upon it?" 
 
 " Noa, he couldna mak it oot. But I was aince mysel 
 in the auld castle, glowrin about me, and spied an unco 
 strange wonner thing cut in the mantel-piece i the big ha , 
 
276 SHANDY M GUIRE, OK 
 
 whilk they call the Baldearag. I think noo it s the same 
 as on the ring." 
 
 " Where did you see the ring last ? " 
 
 " On his finger this night at Wulley Coulson s." 
 
 O Brien folded up the deposition, and rising from his 
 chair requested the witnesses to preserve the strictest 
 silence on the subject of that night s disclosures. He in 
 formed them of his intention of removing Doogan, in the 
 course of the next day, to some place where he might be 
 less exposed to annoyance from his enemies than in Nancy 
 Kelly s. 
 
 The door was then opened, and the orderly was the first 
 to re-enter. 
 
 "Have they come?" asked O Brien, buckling on his 
 sword, and preparing to leave. 
 
 "They have, sir; a sergeant s guard is at the door 
 awaiting your orders." 
 
 " Shall I send one of my men with you, Father Dom- 
 nick ? " said the officer. " It s late now you may require 
 protection these troublous times." 
 
 " I thank you," replied the priest ; " I shall be perfectly 
 safe. I am accustomed to travel on these roads by night. 
 But I had promised myself the pleasure of your company 
 home. What means the sergeant s guard? More duty 
 to-night eh ? " 
 
 "Mr. Coulson is entitled to the honor of a visit, to 
 night," replied O Brien, smiling. "A gentleman Jike him, 
 who has ventured so far to screen the reputation of his 
 employer from calumny, deserves not to be treated with 
 indifference or neglect. Good night, Father Domnick 
 we shall meet to-morrow. And you, doctor, may now 
 return to your couch at your own leisure, happy in the 
 reflection that, in sacrificing the comfort of a night s sleep, 
 and the delights of the toilet, you have assisted materially 
 in preserving human life, and as a consequence, bringing 
 to light certain hidden things of darkness, of which the 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 277 
 
 busy world was hitherto completely ignorant. I would 
 have long since permitted you to depart, had I not been 
 aware of the interchange of friendly offices which the rules 
 of your society make incumbent on its members, and which 
 might have led you after hearing the declaration of your 
 patient to Mr. Wm. Coulson s, in order to give him 
 brotherly, timely, and precautionary counsel in this little 
 affair. It was, therefore, that I might have precedence of 
 you to-night, in my interview with Mr. Coulson, that I 
 have taken the liberty of detaining you till I was ready to 
 leave. Good night, doctor." 
 
 O Brien sprung to his saddle, and turning short down a 
 narrow lane, followed by his men, was soon invisible under 
 the deep shadow of Barnesmore. 
 
278 SHANDY M GUIRE, Oil 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A NIGHT IN THE MOUNTAINS. DUMPY DOWSER 5 S LAST 
 
 DANCE. 
 
 BETWEEN five and six o clock, on the following night, in 
 Nealashin-a-Crawmshy s comfortable little kitchen, in the 
 townland of Gortnotragh, far up in the mountains, and on 
 a bossag, or straw stool, with an eggshell of poteen-whiskey 
 resting on his knee, sat our old lion-hearted friend, Dumpy 
 Dowser. At the moment the writer is supposed to have 
 lifted the latch of Crawmshy s door, and walked in to the 
 company, Dowser was resting a wearied body, evidently 
 after the performance of some violent exercise, for his 
 breath came thick and short, his eyes were more open and 
 bulbous than usual, and over his bald temples down upon 
 his cheeks rolled several little streams of perspiration, which 
 he kept wiping off incessantly with the skirt of his coat. 
 The stool on which he sat was very low so much so, in 
 deed, that his knees were gathered up close to his chin, and 
 gave him somewhat the shape of a huge frog, perched on a 
 flag on a rainy day, puffing and blowing as the genial drops 
 fell around and produced in his nerves a pleasurable excite 
 ment. But the similarity extended only to appearance, for 
 Dowser was not happy ; no, on the contrary, he was very 
 unhappy, and very much dissatisfied with his position ; yet 
 he did not complain, for he thought it would be imprudent 
 to complain under existing circumstances, and that thought 
 kept the lion as quiet and tractable as a lamb. He had 
 been made to dance almost every night since he was carried 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 279 
 
 off to Gortnotragh, to sing Ribbon songs, bless the Pope, 
 and curse King William a thousand times, yet no remon 
 strance was ever heard, except in his sleep, or in the 
 dead of night when all was still. Then, if we can credit 
 Shandy s testimony, he had been often heard to retract all 
 he had previously said or sung, and, in tones low and 
 stealthy, of course, but wonderfully lacrymose and pitiful, 
 to supplicate "the glorious, pious, and immortal shade" for 
 mercy and forgiveness. He feared Shandy as he did no 
 other living man ; he knew not why, he said to his host, 
 one evening, whilst enjoying the comforts of life in a quiet, 
 social way, but yet he did, nor was he ashamed to avow it, 
 since his courage and manhood were well known to almost 
 every herdboy for twenty miles round. 
 
 Close by Dowser sat Nealashin himself, considerably 
 more elevated than his neighbor. There was a tin teapot, 
 of rather large capacity, beside him, on the hab t which he 
 had just laid down, his crutch lay on the floor stretched be 
 tween Dowser and himself, his right arm was resting on 
 the settle behind him, while his left was engaged in adjust 
 ing his pipe to its usual position. Nealashin was upwards 
 of sixty years of age, round-visaged, with a funny, quizzical 
 eye, and red hair, straight, short, and scattering. 
 
 Opposite to both, with a fiddle under his arm, engaged 
 in knotting a string that had broken but a moment before, 
 and raised on a kind of platform, or " dais," sat Shandy 
 M Guire. 
 
 Ten or twelve others, of both sexes, were seated here 
 and there, in groups of three and four, laughing merrily 
 together, and directing their looks continually at Dumpy 
 Dowser on the bossag. 
 
 " Come, now, Mr. Dowser," began Crawmshy, taking the 
 pipe from his mouth, and leaning over familiarly towards 
 his neighbor, " Come, take that drap, an don t be keepin 
 it there on ycr knee, like a parish wonder; drain it aff, man, 
 it ill pit life in ye for anither dance." 
 
280 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 " I d rather not rise any more," observed Dowser, " if the 
 company s agreeable." 
 
 " Hout, onsense, Mr. Dowser, is it give up a ready ye d 
 do, an you only twicet on the flure ; besides, man, there s 
 nothin betther for the health nor a good dance." 
 
 Dowser looked at him for a second, and then wiped his 
 face, but said nothing. 
 
 "Bad scran to the word i lie am tellin ," continued 
 Crawmshy, "and more betoken there s my uncle, Long 
 Hemush, they ust to call him, may the heavens be his 
 bed, for he was the laugliy kind uncle to me well, I 
 heerd him say an it s himself was the knowledgeable 
 man, Mr. Dowser, I heerd him say, as aften s there s 
 fingers an toes on me, that a good glass i whiskey an a 
 * heel an 9 toe batthar was a surer cure for a windy stomach 
 than all the dhrugs in the docthor s shap. Do, now, take 
 that thimelful, it ill warm ye." 
 
 " Warm me," repeated Dowser ; " humph ! " and again 
 he wiped his forehead. 
 
 " Maybe ye d lake it punched with some goats milk, " 
 persisted his tormentor, stretching for the tin teapot ; " do, 
 now, the quality sich as you lakes it mighty well am 
 tould." 
 
 " Bad luck to yer goats milk," returned Dowser, " if am 
 not kilt with it." 
 
 "Dear be about iz, Mr. Dowser; sure it wudn t be 
 cursin the poor innacint bastes ye d be ; the crathurs that 
 gives the drap milk to the childher eh ? " 
 
 " The bastes ! " repeated Dowser ; " faith, if that be the 
 sort of milk the goats up here give, ye might bring a pair 
 of them to Donegal any day, and set up shop with them 
 without spigot or faucet." 
 
 " Why, what in the wurl d ye mane ? " 
 
 " Mean ! oh, the curse i the crows light on it for goats 
 milk ; may I never see home livin , but it d poison a 
 Turk, so it would ; it s nothing but pure whiskey with a 
 color to it." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 281 
 
 "Well, in troth," said Crawmshy, half soliloquizing, 
 "that s just what my uncle Hemush ust to say and it 
 was himself had the quare old sayin s, it s hard to plaze 
 the quality in regard i drink. See, Mr. Dowser, them 
 same quality that you belong to, ust to scowld the very 
 sowl out i my body a most, for only takin a drap iv a fair 
 mornin , just to loosen my tongue afore I d begin my 
 markets, an , by the hole i my coat, they d be kerned 
 theinsels to bed, afther a night s booze, as drunk as pipers." 
 
 " Oh, well, av course," replied Dowser ; " but then ye 
 see it s when their business is all over, and after dinner ; 
 that s the fashion." 
 
 "Faith it s a quare fashion. Now luck, Mr. Dowser, 
 may I niver do harm if I lake drinkin much myself, for 
 it s not good for sowl or body, an feen a one iver saw me 
 the worse i liquor yet, nor niver will, plaze God ; but 
 sorra take me, but I d rather drink a glass or two any day 
 with a friend, at a fair, or market, an go home dacent to 
 my childher, than live lake a gentleman and be helped to 
 bed by the sarvints." 
 
 " Certainly," responded Dowser ; " but you see you re 
 poor and can t afford it, it doesn t fit ye at all." 
 
 " Begorra, an it s jist bekase we re poor that we take a 
 dhoze when it s goin . If we had plenty to eat and wear, 
 an small rents to pay, it s little we d care for drinkin ; 
 but when a body sees his childher naked, ithout a tatther 
 on them in the cowld winter, an his bit earnin s that he 
 laid by, maybe to buy duds for them, goin into his land 
 lord s pocket, that he knows ill be drunk on it afore a 
 week, what can he do but take a drap, when he gets it, to 
 keep the sick heart from brakin ? Am tould for sartin, 
 that in counthries where the people s well aff, they don t 
 drink any a most. I wish they d try an make iz comfort 
 able first, an then make iz sober afther. Afore the parli- 
 ment was pilthered away from iz, we were sober and 
 dacent enough, but now, whin we re beggars, av we take 
 a glass at all, we re drunkards." 
 
282 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 " It s bad to drink too much," observed Dowser, after 
 emptying the eggshell. 
 
 " Mr. Dowser," broke in Shandy, having adjusted the 
 string of his fiddle, and thrown one leg across the other, 
 " I ax the favor av yer helpin me to drink a drap i that 
 goats milk, to our betther acquaintance." 
 
 " I d rather wait a little," replied Dowser ; " I m only 
 afther finishin an am not jist as well as I d wish." 
 
 But Shandy had his views on Dowser. He was deter 
 mined to make him sleep sound that night, if he should 
 never sleep again ; and he knew that goats milk and a 
 smart dance was the best and surest soporific he could ad 
 minister to his victim. He therefore fixed his eye steadily, 
 and only for an instant, on Dowser, and then said, in a 
 significant tone, 
 
 " I didn t think I couldn t think, Mr. Dowser, ye d 
 put that slight on me afore the company." 
 
 "Me! oh, I beg pardon," he replied, quailing under the 
 stern look of the man he so much dreaded ; " I beg par 
 don, sir, I didn t mean to " 
 
 " Pish, nonsense, drink it to the bottom," he interrupted, 
 " or say at once we are niver to be friends ; " and Shandy 
 handed the goose eggshell, brimming full for he hardly 
 tasted it to Dowser, on the bossag. The latter took 
 the proffered vessel, and, raising it reluctantly to his lips, 
 drained the last drop. He sat down. 
 
 " Mr. Dowser," resumed Shandy, in his usually banter 
 ing style, " is it sittin down ye are, an that young lady 
 beyont there luckin at ye ? for shame, man ! " 
 
 " Humph ! " ejaculated Dowser, smothering the sound 
 with his coat-tail. 
 
 " Don t ye see she s luckin at ye to ax her out ? " 
 
 At me ! " 
 
 " Av coorse. Will I give ye The humors i Glen ? or 
 maybe the lady has a favorite of her own." 
 
 " Ye ll excuse me, ma am," said Dowser, rising and bow- 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 283 
 
 ing to a young girl at the opposite side of the room, who 
 was much better dressed and rather more intelligent-look 
 ing than the other females of the company. " Ye ll excuse 
 me, if ye please, for there s mools on my feet that I can 
 hardly thole, on account of my shoes bein so tight and 
 hard since I came up here, for want of regular soften- 
 in " 
 
 " Off with the shoes ! " shouted Shandy, " in honor av 
 the lady, an to it in the stockins." 
 
 " Off with the shoes ! " repeated Crawmshy. 
 
 "Off with them off with them!" echoed all the 
 voices in the room. 
 
 Dowser saw it was in vain to resist the unanimous call, 
 or perhaps the last shell of goats milk he drank was begin 
 ning to produce its usual effect in rendering him more 
 agreeable ; for lie stooped, or rather attempted to stoop 
 and untie his shoestrings. He couldn t do it he might 
 as well have attempted to reach his antipodes ; but there 
 were other willing hands at his service, that soon relieved 
 him of the encumbrance. 
 
 He rose up and waddled over, flushed and excited, to 
 where Miss Alice Hegarty sat, and then politely addressing 
 the lady, requested the honor of her hand for the dance. 
 
 Alice smiled and consented. 
 
 " What s yer pleasure, genteels ? " courteously asked the 
 fiddler, tuning his instrument. " Mr. Dowser, consult your 
 partner." 
 
 Alice whispered something, blushing the while. 
 
 " The what, ma am?" inquired Dowser, bending down 
 nearer to catch the words " the zephyr that makes 
 eh?" 
 
 Alice repeated. 
 
 " Well, upon my conscience," returned Dowser, looking 
 round the room, "if that s not the first time I heerd it. 
 Is it a reel, or a jig, or a baltiorum or what is it ? " 
 
 " The tune ! " demanded Shandy again. 
 
284 SHANDY M GUIRE, OK 
 
 " The zephyr that makes Ceres to tremble," responded 
 Dowser, with some hesitation in trying to recollect it. 
 
 Shandy laid the fiddle on his knee, and paused for a 
 moment to think. 
 
 " Well," said he at length, " I can play anything Irish, 
 Scotch, or musical ; but may I niver draw bow again, if 
 that disn t flagg me clean. The zephyr that Jim 
 Morgan, yer the best schoolmaster in the three parishes ; 
 can ye explain the lady s manin ?" 
 
 Jim stood up, and hemmed proudly in his consciousness 
 of superior knowledge. He wore a goose-quill always and 
 forever behind his right ear ; in fair or market, at wake or 
 wedding, in school or out of it, the pen was there. He 
 used it as a sort of substitute for an A. M. or an LL. D. 
 His head was covered with an immense tow-wig, curled on 
 each side with as much neatness and precision as the ma 
 terial would permit of, and descending behind in two long 
 queues to the small of his back. His coat was black, but 
 very seedy, cut quaker-fashion, with a standing collar ; his 
 nether garments were velvet-brown once, but now covered 
 with innumerable black stripes, caused probably by his con 
 tinually wiping the pens of his pupils before he set them 
 their copies. Jim was now verging to old age ; yet his 
 face, round and fat, showed but few traces of the ravages 
 of years, and bore that look of conscious power and self- 
 importance, which long habit of command gives equally to 
 the master at the desk or the general in the field. Jim 
 rose up, and took off his spectacles. 
 
 " I humbly opinionate, 1 ladies and gentlemen," said he, 
 " that I can explicate, unfold, or demonstrate the diffi- 
 quilty. I am Miss Hegarty s preceptor. She received, 
 under my tutelary auspices, the elements of locution, elo 
 cution, circumlocution, classical retain ments, and pelite 
 leterathur. It was from my labial intonations, or, to 
 descend to your level in speaking, it was from my lips she 
 was indoctrianated in the oral expression Mr. Dowser 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 285 
 
 has endivored to utter or enunciate. I am myself, per 
 sonally and individially, the originating author of that 
 learned phrase or locution The zephyrs which cause 
 Ceres to tremble. These words is positively, compara 
 tively, and superlatively classical, and signify or import, in 
 common langige, such as no lady should demane herself to 
 pronounce, signify, The wind that shakes the barley. 
 And " 
 
 " That ill do," cried Shandy, interrupting Jim s explana 
 tion; "botherashin to yer zephyrs sure I knew the auld 
 tune afore I could spake. Come, Mr. Dowser, lift yer feet, 
 and they ll fall themselves." And Shandy rattled away at 
 a rate that might well have struck fear to the heart of a 
 man more active than Dumpy Dowser. 
 
 We shall not attempt a description of our old friend, as he 
 shook his light fantastic toe, nor of his fair partner, as she 
 leaped and sprung round and about him like a moth round 
 a tallow candle. It suffices to say, that Dowser danced 
 that night as mortal man never danced before. His 
 countenance, excited though it was, showed nothing of the 
 silly smile of the clown, or the opera-dancer ; but whilst 
 his cheeks shook, with a downward tendency, his aspect 
 remained solemn and serious as it became a man of his 
 years and standing. He neither jumped nor whirled round 
 on his heel, as was the fashion of those days ; but he beat 
 the floor till the very roof-tree trembled, and the glass rat 
 tled in the windows. His head was thrown back, in order 
 to give his person a more imposing and respectable port ; 
 his arms dangled at his sides like dead members attached 
 to a living, moving body ; his hosed feet, far removed from 
 his sight, performed their labors in retirement below. His 
 breath came from him short, thick, and gusty, like a sur 
 charged boiler letting off its superfluous steam. He no 
 longer heeded the perspiration he permitted it to run 
 over his face and down upon his garments in utter aban 
 donment. Twice he whispered to Alice he could hold out 
 
286 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 no longer ; but there was no mercy : on went the dance, 
 and up rose the applause of the company. Dowser, how 
 ever, began at length to move rather unsteadily, owing as 
 much, perhaps, to the goats milk as to the violent and ex 
 hausting exercise. He made one or two attempts to 
 catch Alice s hands and hold her still, in order to termi 
 nate the dance, rather than have it said forever after that 
 he was obliged to abandon his partner on the floor ; but 
 he failed, stumbled, and fell back against the wall, and 
 thence slided down upon his side there he lay. In a 
 moment he was asleep. 
 
 Shandy laid the fiddle aside the instant Dowser s body 
 reached the floor, and taking a pipe from his pocket, drew 
 his chair closer to the fire, and requested Jim Morgan to 
 walk out, and see if he d hear the colonel s carriage coining. 
 
 Jim soon returned, and answered in the negative; 
 
 " Well, well," observed Shandy, clearing the ashes from 
 his pipe with the blade of a tobacco-knife "the road s 
 bad up the mountain ; but come it will, Neal a Crawmshy, 
 as sure as that crashin s on the floore, an it s a proud day 
 it ought to be to ye an the tenth generation afther ye, to 
 see a coach-an -four stappin at yer doore." 
 
 " Bad manners to me, Shandy," replied Neal, " if it 
 wusn t daceiit iv him to sen the coach afther sich a poor 
 lame disciple as me, an all jist to hear me tell the minis 
 ter s people av the priest s doins in the confessional. Well, 
 he must be a tinder-hearted gentleman to the poor beg 
 gars that they kerry from doore to doore on the hanbar- 
 rows, when he s so minful i\ me, that has a crutch to help 
 me." 
 
 " Ye ll make a dacent speech, Neal eh ? " 
 
 " Av coorse, if it was only in regard i the bit Ian he s to 
 give me." 
 
 "As to house-burnin , murdher, an reading the Bible, 
 ye ll not go higher nor thirty shillins apiece?" 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 287 
 
 " Oh, that s settled a ready, shure." 
 
 " Well, for murdherin heretics ? " 
 
 " Why, eighteen pence a head for common ones, and 
 two-and-sixpence for ministers, is about reasonable, am 
 thinkin ." 
 
 " An for Bible Readers ? " 
 
 " Ugh ! as for them, why, deil a one i myself knows ; 
 am thinkin they ought to be let go as cheap as venial 
 sins." 
 
 " Humph !" said Shandy, blowing the smoke from about 
 his face. " Well, I think ye ll do for this time. Jim Mor 
 gan," he added, " give iz a verse of a song till the coach 
 comes." 
 
 " Me ! " 
 
 " Ay, you ; who else id I ask, but the man that can make 
 songs and sing them to boot? Give us a lilt av some- 
 thin. " 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, I assure ye my lungs have be 
 come inflammatory from exposition to cold ; therefore 
 my vocal powers are entirely deranged ; besides, there s 
 a large conglomeration of tumors in my throat or thorax, 
 which" 
 
 "The song, the song the masther s song!" was now 
 heard from all sides, interrupting his apology. 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, I see you are all unanimous ; 
 so I must retrograde, and consent to your wishes. Will I 
 sing you one of Carlin s, or one of my own lyrical and 
 classical compositions ? " 
 
 " Your own your own ; and let it be somethin sweet," 
 replied Shandy. 
 
 " Then I ll give you a little trifle I composed many years 
 ago, before I was united in the connubial bands at the 
 hymeneal altar with the late beloved and venerated Mrs. 
 Morgan, then commonly called Judy, or Miss Judy Kuclh- 
 rigan. I named it 
 
SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 THE COTTAGE MAID. 
 
 IT was in the month of May, 
 
 When sweet lambkins sport and play, 
 I roved to receive a recreation ; 
 
 I spied a comely maid 
 
 Sequestered in her shade 
 On her beauty I did gaze with admiration. 
 
 ii. 
 
 Telemachus so grand, 
 
 Who o er the sceptre reached his hand, 
 Might be certainly trepanned if he d perceived her, 
 
 Or Mentor her dissuade 
 
 From that sweet and simple shade, 
 If Calypso by her arts had not insnared her. 
 
 His sire would seek no more, 
 
 Nor descend on Mammon s shore, 
 Nor venture on the tyrant s dire alarms ; 
 
 But he d daily place his care 
 
 On that emblematic fair : 
 He would barter coronation for her charms. 
 
 How delightful and divine ! 
 
 How benignant and benign ! 
 More delicious than the fragrance of Flora ; 
 
 More slender, tall, and straight, 
 
 Than the poets can implicate, 
 Or that celebrated beauty called Pindora. 
 
 To see her rolling eyes, 
 
 Like stars in azure skies, 
 Or brave Scinthia descending to the ocean ; 
 
 To see her golden hair 
 
 Hang on her neck like lilies fair 
 She s an ornament of beauty in proportion. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 289 
 
 But Mercury, I fear, 
 
 On some errand will draw near, 
 As he pilfered Vulcan s tools from Polyphemus, 
 
 And bear away that prize 
 
 To some other distant skies, 
 As he stole away the girdle from Venus. 
 
 vn. 
 
 By the ethereal fire, 
 
 And music from his choir 
 By virtue of his lyre he got his pardon; 
 
 Sure he might steal that fair 
 
 To some solitary sphere, 
 Had not an organizing shepherd been her guardian. 
 
 Here the song was interrupted by a smart rat-tat-tap on 
 the window, and a voice outside crying, " The coach ! the 
 coach ! it s comin up the hill !" 
 
 "Out with the lights!" commanded Shandy, putting the 
 pipe in his pocket. " Out with them, an home ivery sowl 
 av ye. I say, Mr. Morgan, will ye throw a quilt over 
 Dowser afore ye go ? " 
 
 " With very great feelings of pleasure," answered Jim, 
 adjusting the covering over the sleeping lion; "and now," 
 he added, bowing low as he passed out "now, sir, as we 
 have given you our mental, vocal, and corporal assistance 
 in playing out the play, we leave it to you, Mr. Shandy 
 M Guire, to play the farce." 
 19 
 
290 SHANDY M GTJIKE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 WHICH CONTAINS A FEW DRAMATIC REPRESENTATIONS, 
 ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE SPIRIT OF THE TIMES AND OF 
 THE PEOPLE. 
 
 " BAXTER, my dear, you will accompany us to church 
 to-night, to hear Mr. Sweetsoul ? " said Mrs. Cantwell to 
 her husband, who had just entered the drawing-room. 
 
 " Certainly, my love of course." 
 
 " Really, I am most anxious about this affair of the reve 
 lations. If this old man come to-night, he must certainly 
 create an extraordinary sensation don t you think so, 
 Baxter?" 
 
 "Decidedly ; twill be a death-blow to Popery in Ulster." 
 
 "Oh, dear, I m so restless and expectant I wish the 
 moment were come. But tell me, Baxter, is the man old ? " 
 
 " Somewhere about sixty, I m informed ; he is one of the 
 colonel s tenants." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; Archibald told me so. But was he looked 
 upon by his neighbors as a decent well-behaved man up 
 to this time ? " 
 
 " Very much so, indeed, if report speak true." 
 
 " And hitherto a stanch Romanist ? " 
 
 " Always, my dear, till the priest cursed him for reading 
 the Holy Bible." 
 
 "I m delighted to hear it, my dear Baxter; for in that 
 respect he will be so very much superior to the other poor 
 creatures you have converted in respect of conduct and 
 character, I mean that, in fact, his testimony must prove 
 very valuable." 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS . 291 
 
 " Yet, my dear, you must not look upon such testimony 
 as at all necessary. You must not forget that we have 
 known long ago all and more than this Crawpshy can re 
 veal of the confessional and its abominations." 
 
 " True ; but up to this time we never have succeeded in 
 inducing a convert of any reputation or standing in the 
 community to make these disclosures before the public. Is 
 not it so ? " 
 
 The parson hemmed and hawed a little, and then artic 
 ulated, somewhat doubtingly, "Father Mortimer Sattinam" 
 
 "Nonsense, Baxter," returned his wife, looking reprov 
 ingly at him ; " you know very well, already, how I value 
 his testimony. I tell you again, I wouldn t give a straw 
 for the testimony of a suspended priest. " 
 
 "You wouldn t?" 
 
 "No were he a man of good moral character, would 
 he have been suspended ? Certainly not. And if as is 
 really the fact if a suspended priest be degraded even in 
 the estimation of his clerical brethren themselves de 
 graded and contemptible as they are, what, I ask, are we 
 to expect of him? Why, nothing but slanders and calum 
 nies on the ckurch from the ministry of which he was 
 driven partly, perhaps, in revenge for his disgrace, but 
 chiefly to win his way to our sympathy and protection 
 through what he regards as our bigotry and prejudices. 
 Baxter, I can have no patience when I hear you exulting 
 over the conversion of a suspended priest." 
 
 The reader will not have failed to perceive that Mrs. 
 Cantwell, in the few last observations she made, was not 
 speaking from conviction, but merely pursuing her usual 
 course, that of catching at any point of the conversation on 
 which she could hang an argument for dispute or con 
 troversy with her husband. Had she examined her own 
 heart at that moment, she would find it filled with such 
 strong antipathies and bitter prejudices against the Catholic 
 church, that she would gladly have welcomed to her home 
 
292 SHANDY M GTJIRE, OR 
 
 and her fireside the veriest scoundrel that ever disgraced 
 the " stole and surplice," provided lie were clever enough 
 to fabricate lies and devise calumnies against the " Mother" 
 he abandoned. But strong as were her religious antipa 
 thies, her love of contradiction was still stronger ; and she 
 indulged it frequently beyond all measure. In the present 
 instance, however, she was unusually moderate, owing 
 perhaps to her pleasurable anticipations, which being large 
 and very sanguine, filled up a great portion of her heart, 
 leaving only a small corner for the spirit of contradiction 
 to dwell in. Let us proceed. 
 
 "My dear," quietly observed the parson, in reply to her 
 last observation, " many priests have abandoned Popery 
 from a solemn conviction of its errors." 
 
 "And who are they?" 
 
 " Why, there s Mr. Crowland, for instance." 
 
 " Pish nonsense, Baxter ; he was driven from his 
 chair of Physics, and afterwards expelled the college. 
 Twas indignation and a spirit of revenge that made him 
 a Protestant." 
 
 " Well, there s Hoganald what think you of him ? " 
 
 " Worse and worse. He wanted a wife*and a fortune. 
 He got both before he was a month in training. Hoga 
 nald ! why, my dear sir, he had been paying his addresses 
 to his first wife while yet officiating at the altar. Twas 
 for that his bishop suspended him." 
 
 " Well, but, my dear " 
 
 " Well, but listen to me for a moment. These men 
 may answer our purpose notwithstanding the baseness and 
 selfishness of their motives. We can very well use them 
 as instruments to build up the interests of the church as 
 best we may, since we can find neither better nor honester 
 at hand ; but, for heaven s sake, let us not make fools of 
 ourselves in giving them credit for more than they deserve. 
 Let the public, if you please, be edified by the sacrifices 
 they have made for the maintenance of truth and the 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 293 
 
 destruction of error; but let not us at least, who know 
 them, be the dupes of their hypocrisy. And now, my 
 dear Baxter," continued the lady "a truce with this 
 argument, and let us speak of matters more immediate. 
 Don t you think the priest in town here Father Dom- 
 nick they call him, I believe don t you think he must be 
 very much ashamed of his religion when he hears of this 
 old man Crawpshy having exposed him and it before the 
 congregation, eh ? " 
 
 " No, my dear, not the least ; priests forswear all shame 
 at their ordination." 
 
 " Why, Baxter, surely you cannot be serious forswear 
 it!" 
 
 " And on what other supposition, I pray, can you ac 
 count for their brazen-faced audacity in setting a price on 
 absolution, varying directly as the sin that is, from eigh 
 teen pence to thirty shillings ? There cannot be the least 
 doubt of it, my dear wife." 
 
 Here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance 
 of Colonel Templeton. His dress was an elegant after- 
 dinner suit of black. His look was less grave than usual, 
 and bespoke a man well ple ased with himself. His thin 
 locks were arranged with order and regularity over his 
 bald crown and round his temples, so that very little of 
 the enamelled covering could be seen beneath. The 
 colonel had evidently paid particular attention to his toilet 
 this evening, probably with the view of showing of how 
 much importance he considered the religious services in 
 which he was that night about to take a part. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Cantwell," said he, approaching the lady 
 and taking her by the hand, " I merely looked in to say 
 that I m going down town to visit the Rev. Mr. Sweet- 
 soul, and to make such arrangements with him as may be 
 necessary in the event of Crawpshy s appearance at church 
 to-night." 
 
 " And, my dear colonel, do you confidently expect him ? " 
 
294 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 "Without fail. He holds a little farm from me, you 
 know, and I m sure is too prudent to run the risk of my 
 displeasure by attempting anything like deception. Be 
 sides, the old man made his terms with me carefully and 
 cautiously, like one who had made up his mind to meet 
 the difficulty, if any such is to be expected from the Cath 
 olics." 
 
 "You have sent the coach ? " 
 
 " Yes ; that was one of his conditions." 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " said the lady with a pitying look, her 
 head bent to one side, and her eyes fixed on the colonel s ; 
 " how awkward he must feel when he comes out to address 
 the congregation ! Really, I pity him, colonel ; he has a 
 hard task before him ; but then the consciousness of a 
 high and holy purpose will bear him triumphantly through 
 the difficulty. When is he to arrive at the church? " 
 
 " At eight o clock precisely. As soon as he arrives, I 
 am to be apprised of it, and then, with Mr. Sweetsoul s 
 permission, shall take the liberty of preparing the congre 
 gation by a short address for the secrets that are about to 
 be revealed. This may be necessary, as the man s sudden 
 appearance before the communion-table might create 
 alarm." 
 
 " Very thoughtful of you, indeed, colonel. And then, 
 besides this old man, we shall have quite a number of other 
 converts. Oh ! it affords me such delight to find you here 
 to witness the joyful spectacle. Poor Kathleen Kennedy ! 
 she was here yesterday with her two beautiful children ; 
 and really, colonel, you cannot conceive what pleasure we 
 took Miss Cantwell and I in decking them out with 
 their new dresses ; they look admirably. Oh, that Kath 
 leen is quite a nice creature is not she, colonel ?" 
 
 "Very, indeed. But I cannot conceive what reason she 
 can have for disliking Mr. Goodsoul so much." 
 
 "Does she dislike him ? " inquired the parson. 
 
 " Oh, yes, my dear ; she dislikes him exceedingly. Ha, 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 295 
 
 ha, ha! poor innocent thing! how I laughed when she told 
 me her reason. It s very amusing is it not, colonel ? " 
 
 " What is it?" inquired the parson. 
 
 " Why, she thinks Mr. Goodsoul was rather free in his 
 mode of consolation." 
 
 Free ? " 
 
 " Yes ; she imagines he was too kind and tender in his 
 expressions of sympathy with her in her distressed and 
 lonely condition. Ha, ha! poor dear man the saintly 
 pious creature ! how pained he should feel if he knew how 
 she regarded him." 
 
 " Colonel, may we hope for the honor of your company 
 in our carriage, after your return from Mr. Sweetsoul s ? " 
 
 The colonel declined, and then, after a moment s com- 
 plhnent, quitted the apartment. 
 
 " Colonel, colonel ! " cried Mrs. Cantwell, running after 
 him, " may it not be necessary to have police stationed at 
 the church to protect the poor old man ? If these dread 
 ful Ribbonmen hear of his intention, they may break open 
 the coach." 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Cantwell," replied Colonel Templeton, 
 " I have already given orders to that effect. Good by." 
 ****** 
 
 Thursday night was cold, calm, and dark. Not a breath 
 of air stirred the withered leaves in the little shrubbery 
 that surrounded the Methodist meeting-house in the village 
 of Donegal. Not a star was to be seen throughout the 
 whole wide expanse above, and the air was so motionless 
 that nature might have seemed, to the overstrained imagi 
 nation of the religious enthusiast, to have rested from its 
 functions, and paused to listen in silence to the awful dis 
 closures of that night. Secrets involving the best interests 
 of society secrets said to be closely connected with the 
 immortal destinies of man secrets that had lain hid for 
 nearly two thousand years were about to be revealed. A 
 secret tribunal, claiming its appointment and authority 
 
296 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 from on high, had, for century after century, with auda 
 cious presumption, and unmitigated pertinacity, presumed, 
 in the face of the world, and in contempt of all remon 
 strance, to lay hold of men s very souls, and crush them 
 down into a slavish submission to its will. That tribunal 
 was to be exposed and denounced. 
 
 The meeting-house was brilliantly lighted up so much 
 so, indeed, that a stranger, passing by, would naturally 
 inquire if such preparation did not denote some extraor 
 dinary rejoicings within. The light from the various win 
 dows, and from the front door, streamed out in floods upon 
 the street, giving to the idlers round about a full view of 
 the different members of the congregation as they passed 
 in to the service. On either side of the short avenue, be 
 tween the outer gate and the church door, was placed, a 
 single file of police, and outside, the commanding officer, 
 with a sergeant s guard. 
 
 Colonel Templeton, arm in arm with the Rev. Jejjediah 
 Sweetsoul, was among the first who made their appearance 
 at the gate. As they passed in, the police presented arms 
 to the colonel. 
 
 Shortly after, came the Rev. Baxter Cantwell s coach, 
 containing his reverence himself, his wife, his maiden sister 
 Rebecca, and Kathleen Kennedy. 
 
 Then came a number of country jaunting cars, and car 
 nages of all shapes, forms, and capacities, carrying ladies 
 and gentlemen in dark dresses, of demure looks and as 
 cetic aspects ; after these came the town s people, in parties 
 of two and three, walking at a slow pace, silent, and 
 meditative. 
 
 When all the pews of the regular members were found 
 to be occupied, permission was given to the officer in 
 charge of the gate to admit indiscriminately all who were 
 anxious to be present. It was also intimated to him as 
 coming from Colonel Templeton, that if a coach should 
 arrive at the gate about 8^ o clock, it should be admitted 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 297 
 
 within the walls, and up as far as the church door, and 
 there guarded until further orders. 
 
 Colonel Templeton sat in the same pew with the Cant- 
 wells and their convert protege. The house was full to 
 the very doors ; even the aisles were crowded half-way 
 up to the communion-table. The front seats were reserved 
 for the most respectable of the Episcopalian auditors, such 
 as, the colonel, the Cantwells, the Liscaddens, &c. ; the 
 congregation proper occupied the middle section, or body 
 of the church, and the rear was left for the accommodation 
 of strangers without distinction of sect. 
 
 After the Rev. Jejjediah Sweetsoul had entertained the 
 auditory for some forty minutes, with a sermon on justify 
 ing grace, in which he proved, to the satisfaction of every 
 body, the impossibility of man doing any meritorious act 
 of religion without the unctioning and indwelling of the 
 spirit, he sat down. Daring an interval of ten or fifteen 
 minutes after, there was unbroken silence if, indeed, we 
 might except a slight chirping whisper in the direction of 
 the door. Then a figure was observed slowly rising within 
 a little distance of the place where Colonel Templeton sat. 
 The figure was that of Mr. Liscadden, a gentleman to 
 whom the reader has already been presented at the Orange 
 Lodge. He looked round him for the space of a minute, 
 as if he wished to ascertain the extent of the meeting 
 whether, in fact, it was deserving the important communi 
 cation he was about to make. Having satisfied himself on 
 that point, he began by announcing with much solemnity 
 " that he had experienced religion three weeks ago, but 
 owing to his absence from home and an overpress of busi 
 ness in the pork trade, in which he was largely concerned, 
 he had not had an opportunity hitherto of offering his case 
 to the consideration of his brethren. 
 
 " I have been a sinner, my brethren," said he ; " in the 
 ways of the wicked one have my steps been straying for a 
 long time yet though the spirit had not made his dwell- 
 
298 SHANDY M GTJIRE, OR 
 
 ing within, nevertheless he dwelt not afar off. He was 
 always near unto me, and preserved me even amidst the 
 dangers that environed me round about. I had not en 
 tirely fallen, for as yet I was conscious to myself of no 
 sinfulness of act, but only of indifference to grace. I have 
 been very unsuccessful in my commercial affairs ; yet, not 
 withstanding the temporal courts of justice have called me 
 swindler, nevertheless my conscience doth not reprove me. 
 Indeed, I have continually yearned after the indwelling, 
 and have prayed much, both in the day and in the night, 
 that light might visit my soul, and lo! my brethren, it 
 came in a most wonderful manner. One evening, after 
 entertaining some of the elect of the Lord at dinner, I 
 retired to my little back parlor in order to derive conso 
 lation from the holy book, when behold ! I felt a sad weari 
 ness coming over rny senses, and then a darkness envel 
 oped me like unto a black cloud, which the eye of the 
 body could not penetrate ; presently I slumbered, and then 
 a vision appeared to me in my sleep and said unto me - 
 Arise, child of sighs and sorrows, and go to thy brother 
 Luther and commune with his spirit in prayer, and thou 
 shalt be released from the bandages of sin. I know not 
 how long I may have lain, but when I awoke it was far 
 advanced in the evening. I then arose, and, as the vision 
 had directed, I wended my way to my brother Luther, 
 who was himself converted but a few weeks before from 
 sin unto righteousness. He was engaged with his friends 
 when I entered his house, enjoying those little comforts 
 that are so necessary to the support of our weak, carnal 
 nature. I begged him to retire with me to an inner apart 
 ment, and there supplicated him as a child of election and 
 grace to leave his brethren for a little short hour, and com 
 mune with me in prayer that the bandages of sin might be 
 loosened, and that I might walk, like him, in renovated 
 strength. But behold, my brethren, he waxed wroth be 
 cause I had disturbed him even in obedience to the 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 299 
 
 vision ; and then he laughed at me immoderately, and said 
 I was a hypocrite : presently he left the room, saying as 
 he passed away Go to Beelzebub, and pray for thy 
 self. " 
 
 As the last words were uttered, confused murmurs of 
 disapprobation were heard near the speaker, which, owing 
 to the distance and the rather low tone in which he spoke, 
 the elect in the gallery mistook for signs of joy and exul 
 tation, and therefore immediately began to cry "out as usual 
 " Holy ! holy ! " etc. ; whereupon the Rev. Mr. Sweet- 
 soul stood up and motioned them to silence. 
 
 Mr. Liscadden resumed 
 
 "I saw my brother had again fallen, and therefore I was 
 greatly bewildered and troubled in mind, for I began to 
 fear lest the vision might not have been from above. Yet 
 I took courage, and hearing on my return home that the 
 Rev. Mr. Sweetsoul, our learned and saintly minister, 
 would hold forth that night at Lacken, I put the word un 
 der my arm and wended my way thither on foot ; and lo ! 
 when I approached near unto the place, I felt a great 
 weighing down of the body, yea, so that I was fain to sit 
 by the wayside ; and presently the spirit, I know not 
 whether of light or darkness, began to struggle within and 
 tear me violently, so that my eyes were blinded : and be 
 hold ! I waxed weaker and weaker in the flesh, even unto 
 fainting. I lay upon the wayside by a stream, which I 
 feared to fall into, for I was not able to help myself; but 
 I was preserved from destruction, for a powerful hand was 
 over me to lift me up. There I had a trance. I know not 
 how long it might have lasted ; but, oh ! brethren, when I 
 awoke what a sight met my view ! All was changed it 
 was dark, and though the eyes of the flesh could see noth 
 ing, yet with the eyes of faith and of the spirit that had 
 taken possession of my inward man, I saw before me as 
 clearly as in a glass, there on the surface of the stream, the 
 bandages of sin and unrighteousness with which I was en- 
 
300 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 compassed floating down away away into the river of 
 oblivion ; and then I felt the inspiration of the spirit of 
 light come upon me, and mark me with the sign of elec 
 tion." 
 
 " Now," said Mr. Sweetsoul when the speaker sat down, 
 " now," said he, giving a signal to the people, " you may 
 rejoice and be glad, for mercy hath been shown unto a 
 sinner." 
 
 The signaj was promptly obeyed. Joy and thanksgiv 
 ing resounded from every corner of the church. When 
 the noise had entirely subsided, our old friend Mr. Good- 
 soul, who was a Class-leader as well as Bible Reader, stood 
 up in his place and asked whether any brother or sister 
 wished to be prayed for. He paused for a minute or so, 
 but no one answered. Then he opened the pew-door and 
 proceeded up the aisle towards the communion-table, 
 putting the questions usual on such occasions, to different 
 individuals on either side as he passed along, namely 
 "How did they feel, and whether they had experienced re- 
 
 Mr. Goodsoul was dressed in black, just as we have al 
 ready described him, nothing white about his person but 
 the eternal cravat high, stiff, and immovable as ever. His 
 bearing and port, however, on this occasion were rather 
 more imposing and solemn than we ever remember to have 
 seen them before. He had already put the usual questions 
 and received the usual answers from five or six regular 
 church-members, when he stopped before a man who, judg 
 ing from his contour, was evidently neither a Methodist 
 nor mucli at ease on the velvet-cushioned pew. He was 
 of middle age, but gaunt and poverty-stricken ; and his 
 clothes, though quite new, were too large by half for his 
 sinking, attenuated frame. He was a convert, clothed by 
 the Kild are-street Society, and had just made his first ap 
 pearance in a religious Protestant assembly. Mr. Good- 
 soul accosted him. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 301 
 
 "How do you feel," said Goodsoul, bending down his 
 head to the poor man, " how do you feel, Mr. Cashidy ? " 
 
 " Eah ! " ejaculated Cashidy, looking up at the speaker. 
 
 " I am asking you how do you feel ? " repeated Good- 
 soul in a louder tone, for the man was somewhat deaf. 
 
 " Well, fegs then, Mr. Goodsoul dear, in regard i the 
 health, am not jist as well as I ust to be; this shortness i 
 breath s rackin me to pieces ; but how is yerself, sir, and 
 the wife an weans ? " 
 
 " Hush," said Goodsoul; " I don t mean that; but how do 
 you feel after the sermon and prayers how is your heart 
 affected?" 
 
 " Well, dear be praised, my heart s soun enough, am 
 thinkin ; but them dhrugs I took from the docthor a most 
 finished me ; an then in regard i cochin an spittin , it s a 
 miracle am livin at all." 
 
 " Have you experienced religion ? " persisted Goodsoul. 
 
 "Sir?" 
 
 The question was repeated in somewhat clearer terms. 
 
 " Well, if it be s the custom av the place, why, av coorse 
 I ll try to experinse as well as the rest i ye s, set in case ye 
 show me how it s to be done," replied Cashidy, innocently 
 supposing it as easy to experience religion as to teach a 
 child to make the sign of the cross. 
 
 Goodsoul saw the utter inutility of further questioning, 
 and accordingly passed on to the next, and the next, until 
 he came at length to Kathleen Kennedy. She sat at the 
 end of the pew next the aisle, her head bent down, and 
 her eyes fixed on something she held in her hand. When 
 Goodsoul stopped beside her she knew he was there, but 
 did not raise her head. She sat there the very impersona 
 tion of shame shame that she had not suffered herself 
 and her children to starve, and Ned to rot in jail, rather 
 than save them at such a sacrifice to her conscience 
 shame that every one must regard her new garments as the 
 wages of her apostasy from the faith she was born in. 
 
302 SHANDY M 4 GUIEE, OK 
 
 " How do you feel, Mrs. Kennedy ? " said Goodsoul, bend 
 ing low and speaking softly to her. 
 
 Kathleen remained bowed and silent. She was praying 
 against temptation her eyes were fixed on the little cru 
 cifix attached to her beads. 
 
 " Mrs. Kennedy, do you not know me ? " whispered 
 Goodsoul, "look up and answer me." 
 
 Kathleen was still silent. She did not like Goodsoul, 
 and therefore would not answer such a question as he put 
 to her. She remembered he had often spoken to her in 
 what she believed to be a very indelicate and unbecoming 
 manner. " Was it possible," she said to herself, " he could 
 so far forget himself as to repeat his impertinence in so 
 public a place ? " 
 
 Goodsoul laid his hand on her shoulder. "Kathleen," 
 said he, whispering almost in her ear, " speak to me, and 
 tell me how you feel." 
 
 "Feel!" repeated Kathleen. 
 
 " Yes, how does your heart feel, after " 
 
 " Whisht," muttered Kathleen, " shure yer in the church, 
 and the people s luckin at ye." 
 
 Goodsoul heeded not her words, but pressing his hand 
 upon his heart as a sign of his meaning, again repeated the 
 question. 
 
 Kathleen could no longer bear the fancied insult. Her 
 pure, untainted Irish blood rose up rushing to her face, 
 when she heard what she understood as an outrage upon 
 her virtue. No longer the simple, timid, bashful Kathleen, 
 she was now the proud, indignant woman; she was but a 
 beggar in the estimation of the world, yet at that moment 
 she was a queen in her own. Up she sprang as quick as 
 thought, and snatching the beads with her left hand, she 
 struck the unconscious Bible Reader with the open palm 
 of the right such a blow upon the cheek as startled the 
 whole assembly by its sharp, peculiar click, and sent the 
 pious man reeling back against the opposite bench. 
 
TRICKS UPON TEAVELLEES. 303 
 
 " Take that," she cried, ye dhirty, desavin , mane black 
 guard " the remainder was lost in the roar of voices 
 from the back seats. 
 
 "What s this what s the meaning of this?" vocif 
 erated Colonel Templeton, rushing past the Cantwells to 
 where Kathleen was standing with a flushed face and an 
 eye of fire. " Silence, there ! " he shouted " police, I 
 command you to maintain silence." 
 
 " I ll have none av his dhirty insiniashins," continued 
 Kathleen, heedless of the colonel s question. 
 
 " What insinuations do you mean, my good woman ? " 
 
 " It wasn t enough for him to be pittin them questions 
 to me at home, but he must do it here, too, in the very 
 meetin -house afore the company. Ah, bad luck to him, 
 the thief; shure the dhirty drap s in him, any way." 
 
 " Explain explain ! " cried the colonel. " Keep silence 
 there, or leave the house. Police, do your duty. Explain 
 this affair, woman, or you ll suffer for it. Mr. Goodsoul, 
 what are we to understand by all this?" 
 
 " Let me out let me out i this ! " shouted Kathleen ; 
 " let me out this minit," she repeated, breaking away from 
 Mrs. Cantwell, and forcing open the pew door ; " av that 
 be the kin av religion ye have, ye may keep it to yersels, 
 an much good may ye do with it. The dhirty, mane 
 blackguard, to be strivin to deludher me in the church afore 
 the company ! " 
 
 The noise and confusion had now become completely 
 uncontrollable, the entire congregation rising up in their 
 pews and on the benches, each asking his neighbor in vain 
 for an explanation. 
 
 "There s yer bonnet, Mrs. Cantwell," cried Kathleen, 
 breaking the ribbons that tied it under her chin, and fling 
 ing it into the pew ; " an there s yer shawl," she continued, 
 flinging it also ; " an there s yer shoes," she added, kick 
 ing them off in the aisle. " I ll sen ye this gown too whin 
 I go home, and get some other duds to pit on me. Ye 
 
304 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 may do as ye plaze, colonel, but I ll never darken a church 
 door again as long s rny name s Kathleen Kennedy." 
 
 The crowd made way for her to pass, at Colonel Tem- 
 pleton s request, and the high-minded, pure-hearted Kath 
 leen quitted the church, leaving behind her, with her cast- 
 off garments, all hope of relief for her husband and chil 
 dren, and carrying with her her only consolation amidst 
 her trials and sufferings her cross and beads. 
 
 When order had been restored, and the auditory again 
 put on that grave look so peculiar to the sect, a servant in 
 livery passed up the aisle, and delivered a verbal message 
 to Colonel Templeton, who immediately rose up in 
 his place, and addressed the meeting in the following 
 words : 
 
 "Brethren in the faith," said he, "I am exceedingly 
 pained to have witnessed the disgraceful scene that has 
 just taken place in this temple of religion and peace. The 
 woman who caused this unseemly commotion, was brought 
 here in the spirit of Christian charity, that she might learn 
 piety and true devotion from the lips of the saintly and 
 God-fearing servant of the Gospel who has so eloquently 
 and fervently addressed you to-night. We had hoped 
 good things of her indeed, she seemed to us a woman 
 who thirsted after the living waters, and longed to be 
 enrolled amongst the children of promise ; but she has 
 deceived us. At the moment her heart should have been 
 open to the grace of conversion, it was only filled with 
 anger and hatred of an innocent man. Yet this disgrace 
 ful scene did not originate with her ; no, my friends, it 
 was planned and brought about by the priest ; the woman 
 was but the instrument in his hands. It was intended to 
 be a set-off against the revelations which one of his pa 
 rishioners is to make here to-night. But, my brethren, 
 we can easily afford to forgive this outrage, when we re 
 flect that it was perpetrated as a last resource to prevent 
 exposure as a plan to break up our meeting. The old 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 305 
 
 man who now sits in my coach at the door, and who will 
 be introduced to you in a few minutes, is a man of un 
 blemished reputation ; he comes before you to make a 
 disclosure of the villanies and corruptions of the confes 
 sional to expose and denounce the iniquities of a de 
 based and venal priesthood. He has resolved at length 
 to set at defiance all the threats and machinations the 
 enemies of light and truth have made against him, and 
 boldly to denounce the harlotry of Babylon. He will 
 declare to you that the priest has cursed him from the 
 altar, for having read the Holy Bible. (Oh ! oh ! from 
 the auditory.) He will show you that the priests have set 
 a price upon absolution, varying directly as the sin, viz., 
 from one-and-sixpence to thirty shillings apiece. (Oh! 
 oh dear ! with sighs intermingled.) He will prove to you 
 that absolution from the sin of reading the Bible costs as 
 much as absolution from murder or arson, and is classed 
 in the same category. He will finally show you that the 
 murder of a Protestant laic costs but a shilling, and that 
 of a Protestant clergyman but half a crown. (Here sighs 
 and tears of commiseration followed in large quantities.) 
 He will unfold to you, in fine, the most atrocious system 
 of depravity and demoralization that the human imagina 
 tion has ever conceived. Listen with attention, my friends, 
 to the old man s recital; and when he shall have ended, 
 do not so much rejoice at the discomfiture of the enemies 
 of truth, as mourn that such wickedness is still to be found 
 in the world, and pray that the time may soon come when 
 the earth shall be purified from the filth and pestilence of 
 Romanism, and the souls of all men illumined by the light 
 of the holy Gospel. I have done." 
 
 As the colonel sat down, he made a signal to his ser 
 vants to bring in the convert. 
 
 After a brief interval, during which there was breath 
 less silence, a servant came in and told the colonel the 
 man was quite helpless, and unable to walk. 
 20 
 
306 SHANDY M GUIRE, OK 
 
 " I know it, sir. Help him into the church." 
 
 "I wouldn t be able, yer honor; he is very heavy and 
 unwieldy." 
 
 " Was he helped into the coach at Gortnotragh ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "And do you expect to see him leap out without assist 
 ance ? Go, sir, and tell the coachman to assist you." 
 
 "Yes, sir, but" 
 
 " Go, fellow, and obey your orders am I to command 
 twice ? " 
 
 The servant bowed respectfully and withdrew, but re- 
 tnrned in a minute after, and again addressed his master. 
 
 " He can t put a foot under him, sir." 
 
 " What ! he must be much worse with rheumatism than 
 when I saw him last," thought the colonel ; " he could then 
 walk with a crutch. Away, sir, and bring him in at all 
 hazards ; he cannot be so very ill." 
 
 "But he s disguised, sir, observed the servant, using a 
 slang term, of the meaning of which the colonel was en 
 tirely ignorant. 
 
 " Very well, sir ; that s not your business, but his," said 
 the colonel sharply (imagining as he did that Crawpshy 
 had disguised his person in order, to avoid recognition in 
 his passage through the portico into the church.) " Go 
 quickly, sir, and bring him here. Are we to wait all night 
 for him?" 
 
 The servant again bowed, and retired. 
 
 When sufficient time had elapsed to enable the convert 
 to make his appearance before the assembly, now in fever 
 ish expectation of his presence and its result, a low mur 
 mur intermingled with sounds of suppressed laughter in 
 the direction of the front door, began to break in upon 
 the dead silence that prevailed. Every ear was instantly 
 turned to catch the sound. It did not die away as might 
 have been expected, but increased, becoming every instant 
 louder and louder, till at last it grew into an uproarious 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 307 
 
 shout, and then a protracted cheer that rang loud and 
 long through the building, in the midst of which Dumpy 
 Dowser, supported on his feet by the colonel s servants, 
 and pushed forward by the crowd of idlers, came driving 
 up shoeless and hatless towards the communion-table. 
 
 " Hurrah for the (hie) Pope, and down with King Wil 
 liam!" cried Dowser; "King B-Billy s a rascal, and the 
 Po-(hic)-Pope s a gentleman." 
 
 " Ould Neal Crawpshy s past yer knowin , colonel ; he s 
 got so fat," cried a voice from the gallery. 
 
 "Mr. Crawpshy," muttered Dowser, catching at the 
 name, "that goats milk id p-(hic)-poison a Turk. Down 
 with Orange Billy 
 
 Cr-(hic)-croppies rise up, for yer (hie) long enough down, 
 And we ll (hie) scourge all the Orangemen out of the town. 
 
 Tol-de-rol (hie) lol-der-ol lol-de-rol-i-ror. " 
 
 " Police ! police ! " shouted Colonel Templeton ; " drive 
 back this rabble out with them at the point of the bay 
 onet. How comes Mr. Dowser here in this state ? " 
 
 "Sure it s Neal-a-Crawpshy, yer honor; luck at him 
 it s only the dhrapsy he has," cried the same voice from the 
 gallery. 
 
 " William, William my dear William ! " screamed Mrs. 
 Dowser, rushing from her place, and clasping her husband 
 by the neck. " William, dear, I have you again ! Oh, 
 thank goodness, I have you again ! " 
 
 " Kate Kate, dear," said Dowser, " if that s your (hie) 
 ghost, tell me at once." 
 
 "My ghost! why, William, dear, it s your own loving, 
 living wife. Look up, and speak to me." 
 
 " And how did you (hie) come up here to the moun 
 tains, Kate eh ? " 
 
 "Coachman! I say, Rigby! come here, sir!" vocifer 
 ated Colonel Templeton ; " is that the man you took into 
 the carriage at Gortnotragh ? " 
 
808 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 " The very same, sir ; I looked in at him before I started. 
 The people there told me his name was Neal Crawpshy, 
 the man you ordered me to bring." 
 
 " Who told you so ? " 
 
 " I didn t hear the name of any of the party but one, 
 sir." 
 
 "Well, and his name was " 
 
 " Shandy M Guire, I think, or something very like it." 
 
 " Death and confusion ! Did you not see he was drunk, 
 sir, when you put him in ? answer me, fellow." 
 
 " I didn t put him in, please yer honor; they did, whilst 
 I was lighting my pipe." 
 
 "Begone from my sight ! " thundered the colonel, half- 
 choked with rage. " I shall dismiss you to-morrow, you 
 careless scoundrel." 
 
 " William, dear," said Mrs. Dowser, coaxingly, " rise up, 
 and come home do now." 
 
 " They won t let me, Kate I tell you (hie) they won t ; 
 they ll starve me here on lumpers an (hie) goats milk 
 whist ! there s that fellow listening." 
 
 "Who, dear?" 
 
 "That villain, Shandy M Guire (hie) he ll want me 
 to dance again (hie) he ll be the death of me yet, Kate." 
 
 Colonel Templeton now stood leaning against a bench 
 at some distance from the crowd, with his arms folded 
 and his eyes cast down, like a man who has risked his 
 fortune on a single card, and lost it. The deafening shouts 
 and cheers of the Romanists on the street opposite the 
 church-door, rang upon his ear, adding greatly to the bit 
 terness of his disappointment, and rendering his discom 
 fiture a hundred times more galling. As he stood there 
 in utter wretchedness, a little man in a long threadbare 
 overcoat, and supporting himself with a staff, hobbled up 
 to him, and taking off his hat respectfully,, requested 
 leave to speak a word in private. 
 
 " Well, sir, your business ? " 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 309 
 
 " I was talkin this evenin , yer honor, to N"eal-a-Crawp- 
 shy, an he tould me to tell ye he cudn t keep his promise." 
 
 "And why not, sir?" 
 
 "Bekase, plaze yer honor s holiness, there s a tarrible 
 reduction in the prices av absilution since Neal was at con 
 fession last, an he didn t know it when he made the bar 
 gain with yer honor; for, siz he, this Pope we have now 
 cut down murdhers as low as a poun apiece, an ither sins 
 accordinly ; so he says he cudn t well take it on his con 
 science to go higher, but if yer honor s satisfied with that, 
 why he ll make a raisonable reduction in his pay, an come 
 to church any time yer honor sends the coach for him." 
 
 " The infamous scoundrel ! he shall answer for this. 
 And who are you, sir?" 
 
 " Am a neighbor of his, plaze yer honor." 
 
 " Your name, I mean what s your name, sir ? " 
 
 " Well, in troth, yer honor, that same s no great things. 
 Sometimes they call me one name an sometimes anither." 
 
 "But what is your real name, sir?" demanded the 
 colonel. " I half suspect who you are. Answer me, sir." 
 
 " Well, I was christened, they tell me, by the name of 
 Shandy M Guire, yer honor, if ye iver heerd tell av it." 
 
 " Police ! police ! hilloa there, sergeant, arrest this 
 man ! " vociferated the colonel at the top of his voice. 
 
 " Arra, colonel, dear, don t be so cruel to an ould lame 
 man that s racked with the rheumatiz ; don t ye remem 
 ber the day you give me a ride in yer gig, how consither- 
 ate you were ? " 
 
 " Police ! police ! " shouted the colonel again, gesticulat 
 ing most furiously. 
 
 The police searched, but Shandy escaped among the 
 crowd. 
 
 Then the assembly prepared to leave the church, for the 
 farce had ended. 
 
310 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE AGENT AND THE BAILIFF ARE BROUGHT FROM 
 DARKNESS INTO LIGHT. 
 
 WE now return to Archibald Cantwell, having taken 
 our leave of Colonel Templeton and the worthy members 
 of the "Moor" family at the door of the family carriage, 
 beside which stood Mr. Goodsoul, our pious and God 
 fearing acquaintance, holding the handle, and bowing with 
 his usual solemnity to each individual as he passed in. 
 Whether he addressed himself in words to his respectable 
 patrons on that interesting occasion, has not been chroni 
 cled in the history of that night ; for, owing, it is said, to 
 the shouts and cheers of the mob, the voice of the Bible 
 Reader could not be heard. Indeed, tradition on the sub 
 ject is very clear; for what with the shouts for Dumpy 
 Dowser, when he made his appearance outside the church, 
 and the vociferous cheers for Shandy M Guire, perched 
 comfortably as he was on two stalwart fellows shoulders, 
 and hurried along through the crowd, there was certainly 
 clamor enough to drown the voice of Ebenezer Goodsoul, 
 had he spoken with the power of a Jupiter Tonans. 
 
 Cantwell was still at the bailiff s, where Doogan had 
 left him. The reader will remember he had that night 
 escaped from strangulation at the hands of "Dick the 
 Omedaun." Poor Dick, as we .have already seen in the 
 early part of this story, had followed the remains of the 
 unfortunate Mary Curran to the old abbey. There, at her 
 grave, he saw the old priest weeping over her melancholy 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 311 
 
 and untimely end over a heart pure and untainted as the 
 breath of angels now crushed and broken by the slander 
 of the disappointed and malicious Cantwell. There Dick s 
 soul, usually so calm and passionless, was roused up to 
 wrath and vengeance by the tears of the priest. Unseen 
 by the crowd, he knelt down on the loose earth by the 
 brink of Mary s grave, and placing the fingers of his right 
 hand over those of the left, he swore by the five crosses he 
 would take the life of Archibald Cantwell in revenge for 
 the grief of Father Domnick, whom he loved with such 
 an intensity of affection as, people say, the heart of the 
 simpleton only can experience. Never for one moment 
 did Dick forget that promise ; it was the one idea the 
 one purpose that occupied his thoughts, and never did he 
 reveal his secret to living creature but his own lanna 
 bought^ Ellen O Donnell. Night after night he would sit 
 melancholy and sad in the old churchyard near Mary s 
 grave, to guard the body from the sacrilegious touch of 
 the resurrection-men ; and then as the wild thirst for re 
 venge waked up within him, he would start from the 
 broken tombstone where he kept his lonely watch, and 
 run up to the " Moor " to prowl about the house in quest 
 of his victim. On the night of the murderous attempt at 
 Doogan s assassination, Dick had concealed himself in the 
 shrubbery, close by the back entrance to the Rector s 
 demesne, ready like the tiger to pounce upon his prey. 
 Hardly had Cantwell closed the wicket behind him, and 
 turned in the direction of Coulson s house, when he felt 
 himself dragged by a powerful arm into the ditch, and his 
 throat grappled as if by the jaws of a vice. The simple 
 ton s hold relaxed not in the struggle ; in vain did Cant- 
 well seize his arms, and attempt to force them up in order 
 to lighten the deadly pressure. Dick s terrible passion for 
 vengeance gave him herculean strength his grasp tight 
 ening more and more every moment, until at length his 
 victim s efforts became less violent, his face livid, and his 
 
312 SHANDY M GTJIKE. 
 
 eyes bloodshot, so that one minute more would have ended 
 his wretched life, when Father Domnick, attracted by the 
 moving of the shrubbery and the high breathing, came op 
 portunely to his rescue. 
 
 But Cantwell had escaped from the long-pent-up wrath 
 of the natural only to be the more terrified by the threats 
 of Doogan. The respectable position he occupied in the 
 county as the Agent of the wealthy and influential Colonel 
 Templeton, and still more his close relationship to the 
 Rector of the parish, and the various charitable societies of 
 which he was ever regarded as a zealous and active mem 
 ber, now rose up to present themselves to his reflection, 
 and affright him with the dread of exposure. To be so 
 suddenly stripped of the veil of sanctimony with which he 
 had so long and so dexterously covered his villany, and 
 shown to the world in all his native meanness and duplici 
 ty, was a thought that curdled the very blood within him. 
 When he first heard the threatening words break from 
 Doogan s lips, in such bold and determined tones, he 
 shrunk back and cowered like a very woman with aston 
 ishment and fear. But he soon rallied his energies for the 
 emergency. A moment s reflection told him there was no 
 time to lose, if he wished to prevent public disgrace. His 
 deep and deadly passions were roused, as his imagination 
 pictured in frightful characters the sneers and scoffs of his 
 enemies on the one hand, and the scorn and contempt of 
 his friends on the other friends whom his hypocrisy had 
 so long deceived ; and borrowing fury from despair, he 
 snatched the pistol from the wall and snapped it in the 
 butcher s face. His intent was murder ; to bury his dark 
 secrets in the grave of the man whom he had made their 
 sole depositary. But he failed an almighty and ever- 
 watchful Providence interposed, and Doogan was saved.- 
 
 From one so cunning and circumspect as Archy Cant- 
 well, we might have expected more prudence and discre 
 tion in his difficulty with the butcher ; that seeing himself 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 313 
 
 so much in Doogan s power, he might have bethought him 
 of some means to bring about an amicable adjustment ; 
 but the fact was, Cantwell saw at a glance the folly, if not 
 the danger, of continuing an intimacy with a man who had 
 not only lodged information against his reverend father for 
 having smuggled goods in his possession, but also exposed 
 himself before his bailiff and companions. What guaran 
 tee could such a fellow give for his future secrecy and 
 trustworthiness ? If for the miserable pittance of ten 
 shillings the informer s fee he perjured himself as an 
 Orangeman by attempting to bring down public ignominy 
 on the head of his sworn brother and chaplain of his lodge, 
 what would he not do if the Ribbon party, or its supposed 
 abettors, offered him a bribe commensurate with his ava 
 rice, to reveal the secrets confided to his keeping ? There 
 was but one choice: to murder his confidant a thing 
 easily done where his own creatures were to be the only 
 witnesses of the deed or consent to lose both his office 
 and his reputation. He chose the former. 
 
 It was now past midnight. The Agent and the bailiff 
 sat before the half-spent peat fire in Coulson s little parlor. 
 The other members of the family had retired to rest. 
 Cantwell s left arm rested on the table beside him, the 
 open hand shading his dark sepulchral countenance from 
 the view of his companion. There was no light in the 
 room but what the sickly simmer of smouldering coals 
 gave out through the bars of the grate. 
 
 After a long interval of silence, during which he played 
 with the seals of his watch, Cantwell at length gave ex 
 pression to his thoughts. 
 
 "And you forgot to search his pockets for the papers? 
 Confound it ! you have balked the business nicely, eh 
 haven t you ? " 
 
 "We forgot nothing, sir; but we had no time to search. 
 Had we remained where he fell but one minute longer, we 
 should all three be now under irons in the barrack guard- 
 
314 SHANDY M GUntE, OK 
 
 " If these papers be found of which there can be very 
 little doubt matters will be still worse," observed the 
 Agent, in a tone expressive of serious apprehension. 
 
 The bailiff said nothing in reply, but kept drawing 
 figures in the ashes with the fire-shovel. 
 
 u Was he dead when you left him, do you think ?" again 
 asked Cantwell. 
 
 " No not dead : there was hardly time ; but he was 
 beyond the possibility of recovery." 
 
 How so ? " 
 
 " I passed the sword twice through his body." 
 
 " And broke it ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And left the point after you, to tell tales perhaps ? " 
 observed the Agent, sneeringly. 
 
 " Humph ! " ejaculated the bailiff, with his usual indiffer 
 ence to his master s displeasure ; " you are very hard to 
 please in the management of these delicate matters. What 
 do you think, now had you not better employ another 
 executioner for your next victim ? " 
 
 " Ha ! you banter me, sir." 
 
 " And why not, if I choose ? With a gentleman like 
 you, whose neck almost feels the halter, even your bailiff 
 may be bold." 
 
 " And you threaten me ? " 
 
 "As. you please." 
 
 " What if I should give Jemmy Connor s farm to an 
 other ? " 
 
 " You would regret it very much." 
 
 " Well, well that s as it may be. It would pay yon 
 sufficiently for this night s work, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Why, yes ; it would comfort me a little under my re 
 morse of conscience." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " laughed the Agent, mockingly ; " ha, ha ! 
 excellent ! And where did you find a conscience?" 
 
 " I picked up yours," replied Coulson, in the same tone, 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 315 
 
 " when you cast it away, long ago, on your appointment to 
 the colonel s agency ; even then it was almost as worn out 
 as an old shabby threadbare coat, but now you can hardly 
 recognize it, so much has it been renovated under my care. 
 Ha, ha ! don t you think so ? " 
 
 " Enough, enough, sir, of this bantering," said the Agent, 
 angrily ; " and let me request you to conceal or destroy 
 that cane-sword before you sleep, as it is the only possible 
 evidence to criminate us." 
 
 " Don t fear, sir ; the weapon shall be seen to, depend 
 upon it." 
 
 " And now let me ask you," continued Cantwell, turning 
 towards his companion, " have you yet seen that woman 
 you recommended ? " 
 
 I have, sir." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " She has undertaken, in consideration of a guinea in 
 hand and the promise of another when she earns it, to 
 bring Mary Connor to-morrow night, at seven o clock, 
 through the Abbey graveyard, where you may meet her." 
 
 " The Abbey ! how is that she lives four miles from 
 it?" 
 
 " True ; but she comes to a christening at the Stripe, 
 and her direct way home from there is through the church 
 yard." 
 
 "Very good, so far; but on what pretence is she to be 
 led there, for the place is desolate, and few care for pass 
 ing through it in the night ? Besides, she may be accom 
 panied by this young Devlin." 
 
 " It is on that very pretence she will be induced to come. 
 Devlin is to wait for her under shadow of the old wall, 
 where they buried Mary Curran a few days ago." 
 
 " And who is this woman you have employed ? " 
 
 "An old Scotch spae wife they call Nelly Killcreesh. 
 Many a message she carried between Frank Devlin and 
 Mary Connor in her time." 
 
316 SHANDY M GUTBB, OR 
 
 " She s to be trusted eh ? " 
 
 " Oh, as true as steel, if you pay her well ; she s a regu 
 lar trump when you jingle the gold at her." 
 
 " Ha, well, don t spare the gold. I d willingly barter 
 half my income for the satisfaction of taming that saucy 
 dame. Ha, ha ! Miss Malapert, take care ; the Saxon dog 
 may bite you yet. Proud as you are of your Irish virtue, 
 you may yet see yourself dishonored, and your father a 
 beggar." 
 
 " But what s to be done about this affair of the marriage, 
 sir?" asked Coulson, changing the subject. 
 
 " Nothing, I believe ; there s no proof against the priest 
 of an attempted marriage." 
 
 " And O Brien s assault on the police officer what of 
 that?" 
 
 "Quashed the officer is thoroughly ashamed of his 
 poltroonery, and won t consent to bring the case before 
 the court. Confound the " 
 
 " Hish ! " interrupted Coulson ; " what noise is that ? " 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " Outside the window. Hist ! I certainly heard some 
 thing like footfalls and stealthy voices near the window. 
 Listen ! " 
 
 Cantwell raised himself to an erect sitting posture, 
 turned his ear to catch the sounds, if any there -were, and 
 listened with fear and terror impressed upon his dark 
 sepulchral countenance. 
 
 " Hide the cane-sword," he whispered, gulping his words 
 as he uttered them. "Hide it instantly, or we are lost!" 
 
 As Coulson rose to execute the order, the front door fell 
 in with a thundering crash, and the next instant Captain 
 O Brien stood before the guilty pair. 
 
 As the tall princely form of the young Irishman made 
 its appearance in the door of the apartment, Cantwell re 
 treated to the wall, and remained there speechless as a 
 statue. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 317 
 
 " You keep late hours, sir," began O Brien, addressing 
 the agent very calmly. 
 
 Cant well did not reply immediately to the question. 
 He was surprised out of his self-possession by the sudden 
 ness of the intrusion, and took a moment s pause to re 
 cover it. 
 
 " I have just said, Mr. Cantwell," repeated O Brien, " that 
 you keep late hours." 
 
 " Business like mine may sometimes require them," mut 
 tered Cantweli at length, his voice trembling as he spoke. 
 
 "No doubt, sir sorry to interrupt you at so unseason 
 able a time. But may I beg to know how you came by 
 that ring on your finger ? " 
 
 Cantwell stood confounded at the question. He had 
 not till that instant perceived that he still retained the ring 
 which Doogan had given him. Had the thought occurred 
 to him before, he would certainly have either secreted it 
 about his person or flung it back in the butcher s face. 
 But as it was, he could not possibly free himself from the 
 suspicion, at least, of having formed a close intimacy with 
 Doogan. It was, therefore, after some hesitation he said 
 
 " And what right have you, sir, to ask the question ? " 
 
 " The right of a magistrate. That ring was given you 
 some three months ago, and is the property of a young 
 lady of your acquaintance robbed in Barnes Gap about 
 the beginning of July last." 
 
 "And why come you here at this hour, sir, to search for 
 it ? Would it not serve the purpose sufficiently, to have 
 the young lady you speak of identify it at a more fitting 
 time and place ? " 
 
 " You mistake, sir ; I did not come here solely to re 
 cover a stolen ring. I came also to arrest you and your 
 worthy bailiff, Wm. Coujson, for an attempt on the life of 
 Daniel Doogan. Men, handcuff that fellow," he contin 
 ued, pointing to Coulson. " Sergeant* search the house 
 for Ribbon papers, and see, can you find a pistol lately 
 
318 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 discharged. Mr. Cantwell, have the goodness to hand me 
 that ring." 
 
 " When you have satisfied me of your right to demand 
 it, not sooner." 
 
 " Thomson Bradley, seize him ! " said O Brien, in a 
 tone of the coldest possible contempt, " and take that ring 
 from his finger ; for me, I dare not touch him he would 
 pollute me." 
 
 The order was promptly obeyed. 
 
 " Mr. Coulson, where is the cane-sword you carried last 
 night. I have a curiosity to know if this broken point can 
 claim any relationship to it. Produce it." 
 
 "I have no cane-sword," muttered the bailiff. 
 
 " Captain," cried a voice from outside the window, " you 
 will find the cane-sword behind the lookin -glass on the 
 mantel ; I saw him through the shutters hidin it." 
 
 The broken instrument was examined, and the point 
 found to fit exactly. 
 
 " Now," said O Brien, addressing his subaltern, " get the 
 men in order for march ; and you, sir," turning to Cant- 
 well, " will find a horse in your bailiff s stable, and accom 
 pany me to quarters." 
 
 After a few minutes spent in hasty preparation, the 
 party set out on the road to the village, and arrived in due 
 time at the military barracks. 
 
 Next morning, it being ascertained that Doogan was 
 out of danger, bail was taken of the prisoners to stand 
 their trial at the coming assizes. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 319 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 IN WHICH AFFAIRS BECOME CRITICAL. 
 
 FOE some time after Shandy M Guire had been carried 
 in triumph through the village, groups of idlers might be 
 seen here and there about the corners of the streets, talk 
 ing and laughing together over the ludicrous scenes 
 enacted in the Methodist meeting-house. The Orangemen 
 also paraded the streets in straggling parties of five and 
 six, some carrying orange-colored handkerchiefs tied round 
 their arms, others wearing blue and orange ribbons on 
 their hats, while a few, more courageous than the rest, fired 
 pistol-shots as they passed along, in order, no doubt, to 
 provoke a quarrel with the opposite parties, and thus sum 
 marily avenge the insult offered that night, not only to 
 their religion, but to their loyal brother Dumpy Dowser. 
 These provocations quite sufficient at other times to 
 cause riot and bloodshed were on this occasion of Shan 
 dy s triumph and the colonel s discomfiture, entirely inef 
 fectual ; causing no other sign of retaliation than a loud 
 laugh or a contemptuous cheer. As the night grew older, 
 the different parties thinned off one by one, the Catholics 
 highly pleased with the scenes they had witnessed, and 
 the Orangemen muttering dark threats against their ene 
 mies. 
 
 It was now midnight every one had retired to rest ; 
 the lights which but an hour before had illuminated the 
 village were all extinguished, if indeed we might except 
 the sickly gleam of the rushlight that struggled through 
 
320 SHANDY M GUmE, OK 
 
 the broken windows down at long intervals away among 
 the lanes and alleys of the town a mother, perhaps, 
 watching to catch the last throb of her departing child, or 
 maybe a poor tradesman striving against the morrow s sun 
 to earn a breakfast for a helpless family. We have said it 
 was midnight ; the inmates at General Johnston s were 
 sound asleep, when Ellen O Donnell was disturbed by a 
 noise in the garden. 
 
 "Madalene! Madalene ! " she said to her waiting-maid, 
 who slept in the same apartment ; " wake up and listen 
 what noise is that? I surely heard something, like the 
 noise of men leaping the wall. Listen! there s a confused 
 liuin of voices under the window." 
 
 Madalene got up, and drawing aside a corner of the 
 window-curtain, perceived two men standing under the 
 wall of the garden, apparently receiving instructions from 
 a third party who remained outside, leaning over from the 
 street. He was closely muffled in a cloak, the collar of 
 which would, even in daylight, have completely concealed 
 his face, and spoke so low and stealthy that she could not 
 catch the words, though the place where he stood was but 
 a few paces from the window. When Madalene told her 
 mistress what she saw, Ellen started up, and wrapping 
 herself in a night-cloak, approached the window. The 
 two men in the garden, by this time, had moved over from 
 the wall under Ellen s bed-chamber, and as they stood there 
 for the space of a minute to ascertain, by listening at the 
 window, whether any one was stirring within the house, 
 Ellen observed the person outside the wall going away in 
 the direction of the Orange lodge, in the rear of which a 
 light was still burning. The thought flashed across her 
 mind for a second that this individual, in his bearing and 
 gait, was very like Cantwell the Agent; but it was only for 
 a second ; for immediately her attention was again directed 
 to the men in the garden. As they came within view, on 
 leaving the window at which they had been listening, El- 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 321 
 
 len perceived, by the clear starlight, that one of them wore 
 a breastplate under his overcoat. Madalene saw it also, 
 and, had not her mistress prevented her, would have run 
 down and alarmed the servants ; but Ellen cautioned her 
 to be silent, and observe closely what might happen. The 
 two men walked down noiselessly by the avenue that led 
 to the stable-yard, and entered an open doorway. After 
 remaining there for four or five minutes, they again ap 
 peared carrying a ladder on their shoulders, which they 
 proceeded to raise against the gable of the bridewell. Now 
 the gable wall of this jail, where persons sentenced to im 
 prisonment at the quarter-sessions, or by the magistrates, 
 were kept for a short period, served in its place as a part 
 of the wall enclosing the general s garden, as the gable of 
 the old Catholic chapel answered the same purpose on the 
 opposite side, so that the grated windows of the prison 
 could be easily reached by a ladder from the garden. 
 "When Ellen saw the men raising the ladder, she knew in 
 a moment they were bent on rescuing some poor convict 
 from bridewell, and good-naturedly resolved not to balk 
 them in their dangerous enterprise. 
 
 "It don t concern us, Madalene," she said; "they are 
 certainly no robbers. So let us to bed, and wish them suc 
 cess in their undertaking." 
 
 " But who are they, think you, signora ? " inquired Mada 
 lene, closing the curtain and retiring from the window. 
 " There s a light in the lodge just beside them; surely some 
 one there must be in the secret, or these men would not 
 run the risk." 
 
 "No, no," replied Ellen ; "there is no one there for whom 
 Orangemen would run risk that prison, Madalene, was 
 built for Catholics only." 
 
 " But the sick man who was carried there against the 
 captain s will, he is not a Catholic?" 
 
 " Doogan, you mean ? No, he s not a Catholic, I believe, 
 but neither is he a prisoner, Madaleue ; he is detained there 
 21 
 
322 SHANDY M C GUIRE, OR 
 
 in safe-keeping only, as a crown witness against Coulson 
 and his accomplices. There s no likelihood of Orangemen 
 rescuing him from the jail." 
 
 " Very dangerous place," observed Madalene, composing 
 herself for sleep ; " very dangerous place for the poor fel 
 low, under the lock and key of his enemies. But Buona, 
 notte, signora mia, riposi bene" 
 
 Ellen and Madalene had slept hardly an hour, when they 
 were again suddenly awoke by the cry of " Fire ! fire ! " 
 shouted from the garden and along the street. As Ellen 
 started up, the glare of light through her chamber windows 
 told at once that the fire was raging in the immediate 
 neighborhood. Hastily putting on her garments, she looked 
 out, and saw Father Domnick s house in flames. " Merci 
 ful God ! " she cried ; " save that old man ! " And snatching 
 a shawl to cover her shoulders, she rushed down the stairs, 
 and flew through the garden. In a moment she was at 
 the priest s side, for he had escaped ; and raising his hand 
 to her lips, reverently kissed it. " Thank God ! " she cried, 
 shedding tears of joy as she spoke; "thank God, dear 
 Father, you are still safe." 
 
 The roof of the priest s cottage being straw-thatch, sup 
 ported by rafters of bog-fir seasoned for half a century, 
 blazed like flax, and was consumed in a few minutes. 
 From the instant the fire was discovered, no one thought 
 of saving the house it was impossible ; bat all directed 
 their exertions to save the adjoining chapel. Father Dom- 
 nick himself, without hat or shoe, and wrapped in his loose, 
 unbelted cassock, stood opposite the window of his little 
 study, holding Ellen by the one hand and his breviary in 
 the other, gazing in melancholy abstraction on the flames 
 as they devoured his library, every book of which was as 
 dear to him, from old association, as the apple of his eye. 
 Beside him was his faithful old clerk, Darby Gallaugher, 
 guarding his Leo X. and Infant Jesus, which the reader 
 will remember to have seen before. 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 323 
 
 Notwithstanding the exertions made by the crowd, 
 amongst whom many of the Protestant neighbors were 
 remarkable for their hazardous attempts to intercept the 
 course of the fire, the chapel at length caught the flarne as 
 it rose up swaying to and fro, and licking the roof above 
 in its terrible fury. All endeavors to extinguish it were 
 now utterly useless. Still the poor fellows who worshipped 
 there so long and so faithfully, under so many insults and 
 outrages, and to whom that venerable pile was the dearest 
 and holiest spot on earth, round which their affections 
 clung and grew with a devotion that increased day by day, 
 in proportion to their sufferings they could not desist 
 from their labor of love whilst a shadow of hope remained. 
 In vain did hundreds of stout arms carry water from the 
 adjacent river, to heave it on the burning thatch (for the 
 chapel roof was similar to that of the cottage) ; nothing 
 could stop the fury of the devouring flames the hot 
 roof throwing off the water in steam as fast as it fell upon 
 it. At length the ladders were removed, the crowd drew 
 back farther from the building, and then the clear, steady 
 flame rose up, illuminating the houses and gardens round 
 about. 
 
 " Ellen," said Father Domnick, speaking to the fair girl 
 who still remained at his side, her hand clasped in his, 
 " Ellen, my child, never till this moment did I dream that 
 act of mine could have brought this punishment on my 
 gray head. If I have made me enemies, it was unwittingly, 
 Ellen God knows it was." 
 
 "And lie may have permitted this sacrilege for his own 
 wise ends. Fear not, Father, another church will soon be 
 erected on its ruins, and one, trust me, far more becoming 
 the august mysteries of our holy religion." 
 
 "I shall never see it, Ellen. To-morrow night I leave 
 the old place, to beg my way to Spain once more to beg, 
 for they left me nothing but my breviary and my cassock. 
 I loved this old chapel and the old castle beside it there 
 
324 SHANDY M GUIKE, OK 
 
 better than I could tell far better than to this moment 
 I had ever thought ; but " The priest hesitated, and as 
 Ellen looked up, she saw he was suffering intense agony. 
 
 Affecting not to notice his grief, she yet tried to console 
 him with hopes of better times, and the love and affection 
 of his persecuted flock, who would be still a thousand times 
 more wretched if he forsook them. 
 
 " I know it, Ellen, and it s hard to part with them," he 
 replied, repressing his emotion, and endeavoring to speak 
 with more composure ; " but I have made my resolution, 
 suddenly I confess, but not in passion ; and I beg God Al 
 mighty to pardon me if I did wrong, and to send them 
 some one in my stead who will watch over them as faithfully 
 as I have done. Indeed, Ellen, my dear child, I do not in a 
 certain sense regret that this outrage has taken place ; for 
 I longed very much of late to visit Spain before life had 
 become a burden too heavy to carry there ; and yet I loved 
 the little thatched cottage, and the venerable old chapel, 
 and the old castle of my of the O Donnells here beside it 
 so much, that I fear I could never summon courage enough 
 to tear myself from them. But now, Ellen, now that they 
 have burned me out of house and home, I have little to 
 part with but " 
 
 " Old memories," interrupted Ellen, " which, go where 
 you will, you can never banish. No, no, Father dear 
 stay with us ; stay with me to guide me safely through the 
 dangers that may beset my path, in the new sphere of life 
 on which I am so soon to enter; stay with Roderick to 
 teach him the faith and practice of our holy religion, to 
 show him how grand, how royal it is in its mysteries and 
 its worship ! how like it is to the religion which a mind 
 noble and generous like Roderick s, would have selected for 
 the worship of Infinite Majesty ! Stay, stay with him, to 
 counsel and direct him in his hour of need ; for the time 
 is coming fast when men like him, of bold hearts and dar 
 ing hands, shall be called on to assume a dangerous rank 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 325 
 
 in our country s struggle for liberty. The sun of freedom 
 may yet cheer your declining years, Father; for dark and 
 lowering as the clouds of fate may now hang over this un 
 happy land, I can still see through the obscurity a gleam 
 of brighter and happier days." 
 
 "A gleam that shines afar off, Ellen, and over fields of 
 blood," replied the old man sorrowfully. 
 
 " Be it so, Father; the blood will hallow the victory, 
 and consecrate the field." 
 
 " War is a dreadful alternative, my child." 
 
 "True; but yet it is an alternative," replied the heroic 
 girl. 
 
 Father Domnick turned a quick look at Ellen, somewhat 
 surprised by the boldness of the language. 
 
 " Do not mistake me," she said, in reply to his thoughts ; 
 "I love not war. No, no ; I would count myself unde 
 serving the respect due to my sex if I did yet I tell you 
 candidly, I would rather see a revolution to-morrow, with 
 equal chances of victory and defeat, than see day after day 
 this beggared nation whining and supplicating for mercy 
 at the feet of a foreign despot." 
 
 As Ellen uttered these words, a bugle rang out the mili 
 tary call clear and high over the din and confusion that 
 prevailed ; and as her eye turned in the direction 6f the 
 sound, she saw Captain O Brien in front of the crowd, giv 
 ing orders to his men as his lieutenant told them off in 
 parties of ten and twelve. He was despatching them in 
 pursuit of Doogan the crown witness, who it was now 
 ascertained had been forcibly abducted from the prison. 
 
 When O Brien had delivered his commands, he passed 
 along in front of the multitude now lining the side of the 
 street opposite the burning chapel. He wore a close-fitting 
 jacket and forage-cap, and carried his sword in his left 
 hand. His step was not hurried by the excitement of the 
 moment it was light and nervous ; yet his firm grasp of 
 the sword, and his fiery eye, as it scanned the fnces of the 
 crowd, spoke of the passion that raged within. 
 
326 SHANDY M GUIEE, OR 
 
 "Look, Father!" cried Ellen, pointing to O Brien as he 
 approached them ; " look at Roderick ! is he not a noble 
 fellow ? Oh, that heaven would give us a score such gal 
 lant gentlemen to strike for liberty ! As I love God," she 
 added, catching the shawl that was falling from her shoul 
 ders, while her enthusiastic blood tingled in her veins, and 
 crimsoned her whole countenance " I would rather be 
 the wife of such a man, on the evening after he had fought 
 his country s fight for * happy homes and altars free, than 
 the enthroned Queen of England !" 
 
 O Brien, as he neared the place where Ellen stood, 
 halted on his step for an instant, as if to assure himself 
 that the figure before him was that of his betrothed, in 
 such a place and at such an hour ; and then dropping his 
 sword on its belt, he doffed his cap courteously, and ad 
 vancing, took Ellen by the hand. 
 
 "Ha, Ellen, I little expected to find you here and 
 with Father Domnick too ? " 
 
 " I came," replied Ellen, " to thaw my frozen papist 
 blood at this Protestant fire. Our good Orange neigh 
 bors, afraid, I suppose, our Milesian blood would chill, 
 have made a fire to-night to raise its temperature." 
 
 As O Brien came over to take her by the hand, Ellen 
 advanced a little from the line of the multitude to meet 
 him, unconscious at the moment that she was depart 
 ing somewhat from the rules of decorum which the follies 
 of the age marked out for her observance ; and thus both 
 were brought to salute each other affectionately, in full 
 view of the people. When the captain first appeared, the 
 crowd would have received him with cheers, as they in 
 variably did when he showed himself on any public occa 
 sion ; for he was their favorite ever since the riot at the 
 fair ; but their hearts were too much bowed down with 
 grief and sorrow for the loss they had sustained. Yet 
 when Ellen appeared at his side, under the walls of her 
 ancestral castle, proud and beautiful like the women of her 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 327 
 
 noble race, her hand clasped in that of O Brien, it seemed 
 to them like a vision, in which they beheld Catholic and 
 Protestant join hands in friendship and fealty, forgetting 
 all sectarian animosity, and animated by the same noble, 
 generous spirit, swear hand to hand and soul to soul to 
 fight like children of the same father for the freedom of 
 their native land ; and as the bright fancy glowed, fond 
 hope came to cheer their drooping spirits; and then a 
 joyous shout, intermingled with many a "God bless them! 
 God bless them !" rose up and rung out from the dense 
 multitude, echoing through the walls of the old castle, as 
 if the spirits of the dead kings whose bones lay buried 
 within, had sent back in answer their consent to the royal 
 union. 
 
 " Hurrah ! hurrah ! " shouted the crowd ; " God bless 
 the bonny pair God bless the O Brien and the Bal- 
 dearag ! " 
 
 " It s the young blood of the old stocks again uniting to 
 free an enslaved nation ! " cried a well-known voice in the 
 crowd. 
 
 " It s my dream," said Father Domnick, laying his hand 
 on Darby s shoulder. " I see it now it s my day-dream 
 of fifty years." 
 
 Here the noise of horses feet was heard rattling on the 
 pavement, accompanied with groans and hisses, and pres 
 ently Colonel Templeton, followed by his Agent and a 
 posse comitatus of police, rode up to where O Brien was 
 standing. 
 
 " How came you, Captain O Brien, to break open the 
 prison in search of Doogan the crown witness, without my 
 orders ? " demanded the colonel. 
 
 " Because your orders were not at all necessary ; nor, if 
 they were, would I wait for them." 
 
 "Know you, sir, that I am both landlord and chief 
 magistrate of the town ? " 
 
 " I know you, sir, to be a sworn brother of the men who 
 
828 SHANDY M GUIRE, OK 
 
 rescued the witness. I know you to be a bigot in religion, 
 a Tory in politics, and, in the treatment of your Catholic 
 tenantry, an unprincipled tyrant. I know that libertine at 
 your side to be your Agent an assassin of women, and 
 a conspirator against the lives and liberties of an innocent 
 people. I know that he planned the abduction of the wit 
 ness, to save himself from public infamy. I know so much 
 of ye both, master and man more I care not to know." 
 
 " My Agent cause the abduction of the witness ! What, 
 sir dare you " 
 
 " I dare, sir, to charge him with the deed," interposed 
 the priest ; " and this young lady will appear as an eye 
 witness of the fact when the proper authorities require her 
 testimony." 
 
 "Lying, audacious mass-priest!" vociferated the Agent, 
 affecting indignation at a charge, of which he nevertheless 
 felt he was guilty, and spurring on his horse to where the 
 old man stood. " Infamous plotter of treason and " 
 
 Hardly had he uttered the words when O Brien, spring 
 ing from Ellen s side, and snatching the whip from Colonel 
 Templeton, dealt Cantwell a smart blow across the cheek, 
 and unhorsed him. 
 
 " Saxon dog ! " he cried, placing his foot upon his neck ; 
 " utter such words again, and you die the only death you 
 deserve strangled under the heel of an Irishman. Down, 
 sir! degraded wretch, down! an O Brien treads on you!" 
 
 " Police ! police ! " shouted Colonel Templeton ; " arrest 
 him, arrest him, and away with him to the barracks ! " 
 
 The men advanced with fixed bayonets to obey orders, 
 and O Brien seeing the movement, drew his sword, still 
 keeping his heel on the neck of the prostrate Cantwell. 
 
 " Down, villain ! " he cried ; " down before the eyes of 
 the old priest whom you would have burned amid these 
 flames ! Down ! you shall not gloat your eyes on the fire 
 you made. Down ! down ! and thus let every Saxon 
 tyrant bite the dust, and thus let every native Irishman 
 crush him ! " 
 
TKICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 329 
 
 While uttering these exclamations, O Brien stood before 
 the police like a lion guarding his prey, his manly form 
 conspicuous amidst the throng, his long dark hair flowing 
 back on his shoulders, and his left hand resting on his 
 side, whilst his right held the naked sword carelessly cov 
 ering the body of the fallen Agent. 
 
 " Cowards ! " shouted the enraged colonel, gesticulating 
 violently at the police ; " are you afraid to arrest a single 
 man ? Advance ! " 
 
 " Not an inch," cried Shandy M Guire, forcing -his way 
 between the captain and police, at the head of some fifty 
 stout fellows ; " not an inch, colonel, but over our dead 
 bodies ! " 
 
 " Hear me, countrymen ! " said O Brien ; " I have a few 
 words, and only a few words to say to you before we part. 
 In view of that fire caused by the wretch who now lies 
 writhing under my foot, in sight of that burning roof 
 under which you have worshipped God for so many years, 
 in fear and terror, in pain and suffering, in the presence 
 of that venerable priest, bareheaded and barefooted, who 
 tended you in your sickness and your sorrows, who in life 
 or in death has not forsaken you and yours, who prayed 
 for you so often in the long dark night, and blessed you so 
 often in the morning from the altar that now smoulders 
 within these blackened walls, in the presence of that 
 beggared outcast, your own Sig < garth aroon, and in the 
 name of a just God, I call on you to swear now, before 
 heaven, that from this moment you will never cease to 
 prepare for the day of retribution, when your country 
 shall call on you to rise in your gathered strength, and 
 scourge the Saxon oppresrors from the soil that bore ye." 
 
 "We swear! we swear!" vociferated the multitude, in 
 one loud burst, as if they had been painfully awaiting the 
 conclusion of the sentence. 
 
 " As for me," continued O Brien, " I have but this little 
 duty to myself left." And taking his commission from his 
 
330 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 breast-pocket, he held it up for a moment. "This," lie 
 cried, " is my commission it has hitherto given me the 
 rank and the pay of a captain in the British army ; it shall 
 do so no longer. Behold ! it is my first sacrifice to lib 
 erty!" Ami so saying, he tiling the document amid the 
 crackling flames. 
 
 "Hurrah! hurrah! God prosper the act!" shouted 
 the crowd. 
 
 "And this is my second," he resumed, taking the glitter 
 ing sword in both hands, and smashing it in pieces across 
 his knee. 
 
 " There, Saxon," he added ; " up up from the dust, 
 and take that hilt with you ; short blades suit best the 
 hand of the assassin." And turning away, he escorted 
 Ellen and Father Dornnick from the place. 
 
 Cantwell rose up, his face black with rage and suffoca 
 tion, and called for his horse. 
 
 "Not yet not yet," said Shandy; "we can t well do 
 without ye for a minit or two. Here, boys, two iv ye 
 hould him there by the collar av the coat, while I read this 
 paper. And you, colonel, listen to your ould friend, Neal- 
 a-Crawpshy he ll not keep ye long. Goin off are ye ? 
 Oh! begorra, ye must stay, colonel dear" (and catching 
 at the reins, he led the horse back till he brought Land 
 lord and Agent face to face). "Ye must stay, av it was 
 only to afford iz the light i yer countenance to read this 
 receipt, now that the fire is burnt out. Listen, now, and 
 don t stir, or you might tempt me to sin. 
 
 "That pleasant-luckin gentleman there," said he, mo 
 tioning with his thumb in comic fashion to Cantwell, who 
 stood stock still, his head bent down, and his collar grasped 
 on either side by brawny hands, " that gentleman once 
 tuck it in head, with all the rest av his villanies, to corrupt 
 a poor girl in the neighborhood here one Mary Curran 
 I ll warrint ye heerd av her. Well, it failed him, colo 
 nel ; when lo-and-behold ye ! he thought he d revenge his 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 331 
 
 spite, an he did ; for he slandherd her fair name, and sent 
 her to the grave av a broken heart." 
 
 "Niver mind," said a voice at Shandy s side, which he 
 instantly recognized, " niver mind ; am sworn by the five 
 crosses to kill him, an I ll do it ; faith will I troth, I ll 
 murdher him yet." 
 
 " Well, colonel," continued our hero, " one wusn t 
 enough he thought he d try his hand at another; an he 
 cast his eye on Mary Connor av Tubbernasiggart. So he 
 sent her presents, and she sent them back again ; then he 
 sent a go-between, and Mary hunted the dogs on him. 
 Guess who he was, colonel ? deil a less than yer own pious, 
 God-fearing Mr. Goodsoul, the Bible Reader. This gen 
 tleman here, your Agent, being an Englishman, valued 
 Mary s Irish virtue at a very low price, far lower than Neal 
 Oawpshy ever valued absolution for the sin av readin the 
 Bible. Well, what id ye have of it, colonel, but as the 
 story goes, one Shandy M Guire came to hear av it (a 
 devil that s forever playin tricks) ; and didn t he meet the 
 augenaugh there on the last fair-evenin , and tell him his 
 name was Hudy M Gettigan, a frien av Mary s, and that 
 she sent him with a letther (are ye listenin , Mr. Archy? 
 Cupid, ye remimber) invitin him to meet her at the mill 
 at ten o clock that night, set in case he d give a clear resate 
 to her father for the arrears he threatened to put him out 
 av his houldin for? When he read the letther, Shandy 
 handed him pen, ink, and paper, and he wrote a clear re- 
 sate. Here it is, colonel maybe ye d know the hand- 
 writin ." 
 
 The colonel examined the writing. 
 
 "How is this, Mr. Cantwell?" he inquired; "here is 
 your receipt for arrears of rent, which you told me so 
 lately as this morning were still due!" 
 
 "Ask him no questions, colonel, and he ll tell ye no 
 lies," interposed Shandy. " Well, he reached the mill at 
 the appointed hour, an instead av the warm reception he 
 
332 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 expected, he got the cowldest lie ever met with in his life. 
 You remimber, Mr. Archy, how tinderly she threated ye, 
 an how feared she was ye d get a cough from the damp 
 ness i yer clothes ? But the funniest part i the play was, 
 that ye still thought the little man in the long coat, an 
 blin av an eye, was Hudy M Gettigan, and sent him to jail 
 for Ribbonism, when he wudn t give up a resate he never 
 handled ! Now, colonel, am done ; but afore I go, I ll 
 leave ye an. advice since ye won t take a lock iv my 
 hair an* that is, niver try again to bribe Catholics to 
 belie their religion, as you did Neal Crawpshy ; an as the 
 restorin av ill-gotten goods is one i the duties i that same 
 religion, I ll return this guinea to its rightful owner here, 
 as I m beginnin to think I didn t come by it honestly, 
 seem he gave it to me in payment for the little throuble I 
 tuck in bringin about the meetin at the mill. Here," con 
 eluded Shandy, "take it back again I wondher it didn t 
 burn my pocket; an if ever ye return to England, which 
 I hope in God you will and soon, tell yer countrymen that 
 poor, an ragged, an beggared as you made us, we wudn t 
 barther the virtue of one of Erin s lowly but lovely daugh 
 ters for all the wealth of Britain." 
 
 As Shandy concluded, he retired amidst the crowd, 
 which soon separated each to his own home. 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 833 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 
 
 THE sun s disk was half hid beneath the horizon. His 
 parting beams, as if bidding the earth good night, kissed 
 housetop and hill, island and mountain. The ivy on the 
 turrets of the castle glittered brightly, and danced to the 
 soft voice of the evening breeze as it sung its song among 
 the leaves. The angler on the river s brink beneath the 
 castle walls was silently tripping his gaudy fly over the 
 surface of the stream, tempting the sluggish salmon to start 
 from the deep water in pursuit of the dangerous decoy. 
 The laborer was returning from the fields wearied with 
 his long day s work, carrying his spade carelessly on his 
 shoulder. The cows were lowing at the barn-doors, and 
 the milkmaids singing their evening carol as they came 
 forth with white napkins on their heads and white-hooped 
 piggins in their hands. It was a lovely eve the bright 
 blue Italian sky above, and the soft emerald green below. 
 It was an evening that God might have specially chosen 
 to show his love for his creatures, in thus spreading out 
 before them the. immensity of his goodness. Yet, gentle 
 reader, under that blue vault of heaven, no spot of earth 
 was more afflicted and unhappy than your own green isle ; 
 it wanted that which lightens the heaviest burden, and 
 assuages the keenest pain the consciousness of freedom. 
 Erin, amid all her beauties and her smiles, was still but a 
 land of slaves. 
 
 Father Donmick was kneeling within the walls of the 
 
334 SHANDY M GUIRE, OR 
 
 castle, on the steps of the little ruined altar where his 
 fathers used to worship long ago, and where he loved so 
 much to recite his evening office. O Brien and Ellen but 
 an hour before had knelt there also, and plighted the vows 
 that death alone could cancel. " How strange," said the 
 priest, after he had performed the ceremony, "that the old 
 church was burned the night before your marriage-day ! 
 It would seem as if fate ordained you should be wed at 
 the altar where your ancestors gave away their royal 
 daughters." 
 
 "And the ring of the Baldearags," said Ellen, "the 
 wedding-ring of the O Donnells how opportunely it ap 
 pears ! " 
 
 " And the priest, who both marries and gives away the 
 bride," added O Brien. 
 
 " Hush ! " said Father Domnick, glancing significantly 
 at the captain ; "he s but a miserable old man, whose sor 
 rows this union has somewhat lightened. God bless you, 
 my children ! Good by for a while. I shall follow you as 
 soon as I have taken a last farewell of this old ruin." 
 
 We have already said Father Domnick was kneeling nt 
 the little altar. He was alone retired from the hum of 
 busy life without. Not a sound came to disturb his devo 
 tions, if we except the occasional scream of the daws 
 returning home after their day s travel, to sleep in their 
 usual nestling-places among the ruins, or of the weasel as 
 it chased the intruder from its burrow. The priest was in 
 the deep shadow of the opposite wall, his back turned to 
 the entrance leading to the altar ; his tall form was bent 
 over the beads he held in his hand, and his locks, white as 
 driven snow, lay scattered on his shoulders and down along 
 his cheeks. He was interceding with a merciful God for 
 pity on a suffering people whom he was about to leave. 
 He had been thus absorbed in prayer, when footsteps were 
 heard approaching the entrance. They were those of the 
 Rev. Baxter Cantwell and Colonel Templeton. As they 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 035 
 
 issued out from the dark passage, they paused for a mo 
 ment, and the colonel pointed to the supplicant in the 
 distance. 
 
 Draw near, ye enemies of his country ! approach, ye de- 
 spoilers of God s house, and behold the poor priest whom 
 you have driven last night from home and altar, praying 
 in the desolate sanctuary of his sires! Come nearer 
 look at that threadbare cassock, and say, is this the man 
 you have charged with gathering gold in the confessional ? 
 Come nearer still but tread lightly lightly, for the dead 
 beneath your feet may heave you convulsively from their 
 consecrated graves ; come and listen, in the dead silence 
 that prevails, to the old man with the white locks: he- is 
 praying, like his divine Master, for mercy on his enemies 
 and pity for his friends. He sees, he speaks to no one but 
 God ; the world is dead to him now, and he to the world. 
 He is alone in the flesh and in the spirit. Behold him 
 there, and answer, is he the " hypocrite " you proclaimed 
 him? 
 
 As the footsteps drew nearer, Father Domnick heard 
 them, and, rising from his knees, he saluted the strangers. 
 Uncovered and erect the old man stood, his tall form yet 
 unbent by the weight of eighty years, and his eye, bright 
 still as in his boyhood, fixed steadily on the intruders. 
 
 " How came you, priest, within these walls? " demanded 
 Colonel Templeton. " Know you not, sir, I have already 
 forbid you coming here to practise this mummery of beads 
 and breviary ? " 
 
 "I came here to pray in silence and alone," he replied. 
 " I have not injured these walls." 
 
 "Injured, sir! you have practised superstitious and 
 idolatrous worship here, which is an abomination in God s 
 sight and an offence to me." 
 
 The old man retreated a step, and crossed his arms on 
 his breast. 
 
 "What you call superstition, Colonel Templeton," he 
 
336 SHANDY M GUIKE, OR 
 
 said, with some severity in the tone, " was practised at this 
 altar for centuries before the sanguinary revolution of 
 Cromwell gave you predatory right to place a foot in 
 this hall." 
 
 " Predatory right ! what mean you, priest ? " 
 
 " The right the master gives his ban-dog to the flesh and 
 blood of his victim." 
 
 " Ha ! " 
 
 " Seest thou this altar ? look here the blood of Owen 
 Roe the friar is red upon it still. Your ancestors slew him 
 here while offering the holy sacrifice for the sins of his 
 people. That blood is your only title-deed to this castle." 
 
 " Rebellious scoundrel ! " vociferated the colonel, in a 
 tone of undisguised passion ; " dare you utter such words 
 in my presence ? " 
 
 " Dare ! " repeated the priest, smiling at the idea. 
 
 " What, mock me, sir ! Am I not rightful lord of the 
 soil ? " he again demanded. 
 
 " Your rights of despoiler and robber I recognize no 
 other," responded the priest. 
 
 " Has not the crown guaranteed these rights, and will 
 you not respect its power?" 
 
 " Its power! not I, not I," replied the old man; "I owe 
 his majesty of these realms no obedience." 
 
 " Treason ! " shouted the parson. 
 
 " Have you not taken the oath of allegiance to the 
 crown of England before your ordination ? perhaps you 
 got absolved from it?" 
 
 " I could never brook the insult offered by such an oath. 
 In Salamanca, where the bones of my grandfather rest, and 
 before the altar where they lay enshrined, I pledged my 
 allegiance to the crown of Spain, and ere I left the sacred 
 spot, I made a vow that if God gave me length of days, I 
 would revisit this land, and endeavor, to the extent of my 
 poor abilities, to awaken in the hearts of its people a spirit 
 of resistance to the tyranny of England." 
 
THICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 337 
 
 " Have you the boldness, sir, thus openly to express 
 such rebellious sentiments?" 
 
 " Rebellion presupposes allegiance, and I tell you again, 
 sir, I owe no allegiance to George of England." 
 
 " You preach sedition, sir, and yet you boast yourself a 
 priest and a minister of peace." 
 
 " True ; I am a priest by my calling, but I am an Irish 
 man by birth. As a priest, I have, I trust in God, dis 
 charged my duty faithfully to the people whose spiritual 
 interests I was appointed to guard ; as an Irishman born 
 (had I even plighted my allegiance to the English crown), 
 I have my civil rights like other men to protect, and which 
 no relation between monarch and subject can weaken or 
 annul. I am not to live the life of a slave, because I live 
 by the altar. lean never be taught to believe, sir, that 
 because I preach charity and forbearance to all men, I am 
 to permit you to rob me of my daily food without resist 
 ance ; or that if it please you to strip me of my coat, I 
 am to hold out my arms that you may the more readily 
 take it off. No, sir ; the Catholic priest is not the poltroon 
 to lie quietly at your feet, because you flung him there. If 
 hitherto he has borne with persecution unresistingly, it 
 was for peace sake because, incapable as he was of re 
 sistance, peace was a duty ; but when the time arrives 
 and it will soon come that this nation, in the spirit and 
 strength it shall have husbanded for the struggle, shall 
 meet her enemies in the field, to die martyrs or live free 
 men, then beware of the priest ; for when that hour comes 
 peace will be a crime and resistance a duty." 
 
 " Peace a crime ! " ejaculated the colonel ; " and this 
 from you ! " 
 
 " Yes, from me," repeated the priest ; " and I hesitate 
 not to tell you, Colonel Templeton, that, if the Irish peo 
 ple were prepared for a revolution to-morrow, I would, old 
 as I am and this head is white with the snows of eighty 
 winters I would be found amongst the foremost in the 
 22 
 
338 SHANDY M GUIRE, OB 
 
 fray, not to fight, mayhap for this arm is somewhat pal 
 sied from age but to encourage my brave countrymen 
 while speech was left me, to drive you and all your Saxon 
 breed from their native soil. Yes, sir, that hour will surely 
 come, when the men of this land shall be no longer seen 
 to doff hat or bow knee to the sassenach lord. A day will 
 come when the voice of wrath and vengeance shall ring 
 the cry of retribution in your ears, when strong arms 
 shall hurl you from your judgment-seats where you now 
 issue your fiats of extermination against a defenceless peo 
 ple, and the very women, with brooms in their hands, 
 will scourge you like spaniels from the land you plun 
 dered." 
 
 " Insolent villain ! " cried the colonel, hoarse with rage, 
 and stepping towards the priest in a threatening attitude ; 
 " dare you thus " 
 
 " Back, sir ! back ! " interrupted Father Domnick, mo 
 tioning with his hand as a king would to his slave ; "back, 
 strangers ! you have no business here ; this holy shrine is 
 mine, alas! my only heritage the last memorial of a 
 fallen race and a persecuted priesthood. Back ! " repeated 
 the old man, his voice rising, and his eye lighting up with 
 the fire of his* young days as he spoke ; " place not your 
 sacrilegious feet on this consecrated earth. Go back to 
 England to the sumptuous edifices you erected but a 
 few years ago go, and worship there, where men turn 
 their backs on their naked altars ; go, and enjoy the cold 
 and dreamy philosophy you call religion. And when you 
 address your countrymen in Exeter Hall, tell them of the 
 Catholic priests of Ireland, how you failed in your efforts 
 to pervert them. Tell them how you offered bribes, and 
 they smiled at you ; how you flattered them, and they 
 laughed at you ; how you scourged them through the pub 
 lic streets as malefactors, and they bore it with patience 
 and resignation like their Saviour! Go back, strangers, 
 and tell your countrymen, the enemies of my creed and 
 
TKICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 339 
 
 my race, that you saw an old priest whom you burned out 
 of house and home, whom you robbed of all but his beads 
 and breviary, you saw him poor and penniless at a dilap 
 idated altar, and he told you ay, and called God to wit 
 ness," said Father Domnick, raising his hand to heaven, 
 " he would rather be the beggared worshipper you saw him 
 before this ruined shrine, than live in wealth and power 
 a renegade to the faith his fathers bequeathed him ! " 
 
 The listeners stood in silent surprise at the native maj 
 esty of the old man as he spoke, and the bold, contemptu 
 ous language he uttered; and ere they could summon 
 speech in reply, he had taken up his breviary and passed 
 down the hall in his exit from the castle. When he 
 reached the entrance, he turned round for an instant, and 
 gazed on the dark walls : it was his last look at the vener 
 able ruin in another instant he was gone. 
 
 This little story, gentle reader, nears its end. Would 
 it were worthier your perusal ; but it cannot be mended 
 now. 
 
 Early on the morning after Ellen s marriage, before the 
 sun was up, a boat was observed lying, with her sails 
 hoisted, under the walls of the Abbey of Donegal, and a 
 little party, consisting of two men and a female, walking 
 towards it. As the party approached the shore, a voice 
 from the abbey cried to them to stop, and presently an old 
 woman made her appearance, clapping her hands and wail 
 ing piteously. 
 
 "What s the matter?" asked O Brien, for it was the 
 captain conducting Ellen and Father Domnick to the 
 boat. "What s the matter, woman? Ha, ]STancy Kelly! 
 why, Nancy, who would have thought of meeting you 
 here?" 
 
 " Oh, captain, dear asthore, Miss Ellen ahasky, that ust 
 
340 SHANDY M GUIRE, OB 
 
 to be his own Idnna bought ! Och, och ! poor fella, he ll 
 niver spake them kine words again ! " And the poor crea 
 ture cried and wept bitterly. 
 
 " Nancy," said Ellen, kindly taking her hand, " what 
 means this grief? tell me, has anything happened to 
 poor Dick ? " 
 
 " Oh, Miss Ellen, ahasky bought, he s murdhered he s 
 lyin dead there above, in the ould abbey." 
 
 "Dead!" 
 
 " Ay, a cowld corpse, dear, on Mary Gurran s grave, an 
 Mr. Archy Cantwell dead beside him." 
 
 " Father of heaven ! " exclaimed Ellen ; " Dick has ful 
 filled his dreadful promise, and God has avenged the inno 
 cent blood by the hands of an idiot. Little did I think, 
 Roderick, that poor Dick would remember his vow." 
 
 " Father Domnick dear, our own Siggarth aroon? 
 sobbed the affectionate old creature ; " I was tould last 
 night ye wor goin to lave iz goin away niver^to see us 
 more. But shure ye ll come back with me now, an bury 
 poor Dick?" 
 
 " Willingly," replied the priest, " w-ere it miles to his 
 grave." 
 
 O Brien, beckoning to the boatmen to follow him, led 
 the way to the abbey, and there was seen the Omedaun 
 stretched across Mary Cumin s green grave, a poniard 
 fixed in his left breast, and his hand twisted in Cantwell s 
 cravat. 
 
 " Many s the dark cowld night, my poor fella," sobbed 
 Nancy, " ye sat there watching Mary s body, an no one 
 near ye to keep ye company. Now, Dick, asthore, ye l) 
 soon be nearer to her than iver." 
 
 The priest directed the boatmen to open the grave the 
 simpleton loved and guarded so well ; and when the work 
 was finished, the Omedaun s body was let down to rest on 
 Mary s coffin, there to remain exposed till the coroner s 
 jury should give its verdict. Father Domnick read the 
 
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 341 
 
 funeral service over his remains, and then turning to old 
 Nancy, gave her his hand and his blessing. 
 
 In a few minutes after, the little boat was seen scudding 
 before the breeze, and a man on the shore waving his hat in 
 adieu to the party. While this man remained uncovered, 
 it Avas impossible to recognize him in the distance ; but 
 when he turned from the shore and put his broad-brimmed 
 hat on his head, and his hands in his long-skirted coat 
 pockets, the very children of the village would hail him as 
 Shandy M Guire." 
 
 Of the other personages introduced to the reader in 
 these pages, we have learned but little of their subsequent 
 history. Dumpy Dowser, we have been informed (but 
 merely on hearsay), died a few years after in Bristol, fight 
 ing for the loyal cause, or, as another report goes, by fall 
 ing into a cellar on his retreat from the field of battle. 
 
 Doogan was never seen after, living or dead, and to this 
 hour his fate is involved in impenetrable mystery. 
 
 In the year 1842, the writer of this story, having certain 
 inquiries to make relative to the old feudal castles of the 
 O Donnells, in the counties of Tyrone and Donegal, was 
 referred to the Rev. E. M., the successor of Father Dom- 
 nick, whom he found, after a long search among the 
 mountains, comfortably seated at a snug fire, in the neat 
 little homestead of Frank Devlin. Mary Connor was 
 spinning at her wheel, blithe and merry, as he entered. 
 The younger children were playing with the chain and 
 seals of Father E. s watch, the elder girls arranging the 
 delph on the dresser, and Frank himself shaking sand on 
 the little parlor floor for, gentle reader, the priest was to 
 hold a station at Frank Devlin s the next morning. 
 
 THE END.