Tempest-Driven: A Romance (Vol. 2 of 3)

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injudicious they were. In the excitement of the moment he had forgotten wha

ed the room. He briefly explained what had occ

our, and left with gloomy looks and words. A relapse was possible, and a great dela

well confess the matter boldly to himself; plain-looking, gentle, cheerful Madge was worth more to him than all the rest of the

he got formal leave to do so. He would give no opinion as to the ultima

mother, now years ago, he had known no trouble so trying as this. He told himself over and over again that al

question. Walking about alone was dull work. He did not care to call on any friend, and the notion of spending the evening at a plac

rooms were on the second floor. He entered the one looking out on the street, and lit the lamp deliberately. There were two reasons for his proceeding slowly. In the first place

en one is anxious, an excellent tho

smouldering fire; then, with a heavy sigh, he threw himself in

from new. The table on which the lamp stood had a staring crimson cover. This was a recent and outrageous addition to the chromatic

d, having lifted the lamp, flung the obnoxious cover into a corner, and was about to

d and pic

those weirs and the commissioners, I hope. Well, even the weirs and the commissioners

a clerks hand. It was signed in a different hand "John O'Hanlon," and from a printed

g, uncrossing, and recrossing his legs. When he came to the end he threw the letter from him with an exclamation of annoyance and disgust. Then he s

t, naught, naught recurring. Confound those commissioners eternally! Obstruct the navigation of the Bawn! My salmon weirs obstruct as much the navigation of the Bawn as they do of the Euphrates or the Mississippi! If I had my will, these infernal, meddling commissioners would be dr

up and down the room hastily, angrily.

could not speak to her father if I had to say: 'Will you, sir, be good enough to bring your daughter over to Kilbarry, and see her married to me in the poor-house?' It would not look swell. Not a bit o

n his walk

ter again and look

from them after bringing this fresh trouble upon them. They are the most generous people in the world. My honour is perfectly safe with them. I have plenty of time to catch the mail. This letter must hav

s cocked, and a

, hurrah fo

n to bag these accursed commissioners on the road, or in the water, or on the wing. Unfortunately, 'old times are changed, old ma

his unexpected departure from London; then he ordered his dinner, packed hi

In Dublin, at an hotel close to the Westland Row Station, he got his breakfast, and then drove to

rees. It has not yet donned its summer vesture of astonishing green. The towns are small, far apart, and generally invisible from the train. Few people are on the platforms, and the stations of even important towns are paltry and forlorn. There

which gave a feeble white glare more dejecting than a pall of thunder cloud. Tobacco was powerless to ameliorate the chill influence of that changing landscape. He tried to read a newspaper, but found he could n

ing could save his weirs, and was almost convinced that the first news he should hear was that his weirs had been des

ipping; the quays noisy with traffic; the stores, warehouses, wharfs, and shops alive with people. Sailing vessels were discharging corn and coal, and steamers taking in cattle, and cases of eggs, and bales of bacon, and firkin

Fishery Commissioners, and by the time he had eaten a light luncheon, he began to think they were little more than an amiable fiction of a jovial Government. No one he met seemed to think his fortunes were in per

. Accordingly he set off at once in that direction, and, having gone through two or three

ed with gray, loud-voiced, and aggressive in manner, and owning a pair of enormous brown hands. One of the peculiarities of O'Hanlon was that no matter how

ce of the solicitor the latter rose hasti

nute. Sit down. I want t

and who never seemed to have anything more important to do than lean against the folded window-shutter and l

absence, O'Han

en, I'm deligh

tation of being the most insincere man you could meet on a summer's day; but no

er replying to the greetings of the ot

he death of me. They'll be the death of every man in the neig

e same old story, as well as I

professional sum, which, I am sorry to see, has grown into a saying

eg to stand on, and that "we" were sure to win in the long run, but that to insure success it was absolutely necessary for O'Brien to be in town or withi

n telling this to his friend, the latter became hilarious, slapped Jerry on the back, and said that he'd prove the commissioners w

Jerry in good spirits, and when he rose to leave he was as buoy

ffice, O'Hanlon took him by t

hile that Davenport i

es

ow anythin

spirits instant

know everythi

ood report of

s at the

became suddenly introspective, and he lolled his head over his rig

d with the Davenports; and second, because the dearest friend I have i

greatly interested

idn't think you kn

s head on his shoulders. His

nports. But do you remember a client of mine n

That's a go

tor, shaking his head in accord with his p

rowned near Kil

e Blac

rowned there without shuddering. Wasn't there som

olice were

u speak of

e was in the neighbourhood of Davenport's house, and that he ran lik

esh creep," said O'B

my possession yet. They show he had some connection

been so long turned inward, flashed out their light, an

ted back in

asked, in a low,

this da

nlon's eyes dila

me of Heav

gho

TER

NOT BEL

ngth of time the conviction that O'Hanlon had spoken sincerely. O'Hanlon himself looked troubled, scared, affrighted, a

ghost of that unhappy man. You want me to tell you a story which, as I said, is a long one, and I want you to te

the lawyer back once more into its ordinary groove. Wit

been holding you, which is an assault, and detaining you against your will, which is false imprisonment--both punishable by law. I ought to be too ol

ey pa

life. He had no relative alive, nor any place he could call home. When in this neighbourhood he usually stopped at "The Munster"; but of late years he had spent much of h

ing and fishing village ten miles by road from Kilbarry. Here it was that he learned what he knew of the Davenports, for Mr. Davenport's place, Kilcash House, wa

been living with his widowed mother at Kilbarry, and had not, like other young men of the city, gone out to the scene of the tragedy. He knew every nook of the coast for miles around Kilcash. It was a bold, bad, rock-bound coast save at the village, where there was a bay and a strand fatal to ships. He remembered that, from the

not be torn up. If that were true, and Alfred Paulton recovered, then he w

ds to the others in the order of their seniority. It was a little comfort to be able to send even kind regards to Madge through her father. But if he had the commission

ing the broad white river. When at length they were alone and had lighted their cigars, the guest reverted t

anlon's

elations between these two men were very close, but of the nature of these relations there is no hint. At the time of the death of Fahey he had been hovering about Kilcash for months. No one exactly knew who or what he was. He had taken a mean lodging in the village, and given out that he was poor, and had been ordered to the seaside for his health, and recommended to get as much sea air and boating as possible. He often went out with the fishermen, and at la

the downs, and make straight for Kilcash House. They were not able to get near him until he had just gained the house. He then became aware that he was followed, and

hen on the cliffs, just over the Black Rock, I cast my eyes down, and there, on that large shelf of rock, as plain as I see you now, I saw him. T

of the da

t three o'clock

one of about his statu

top of the path, and went down to the rocks below. There was nobody there. You know the place. Tell me how a living ma

hat you say, except upon the supposition that you were suffering

act that Davenport and he were associated together in something while they were alive, and now that both are dead, one of them

nd why should it be at the Black Ro

eeing Fahey's ghost there would recall to my mind most vividly the circumstance o

and that you recollected the documents you held belonging to Fahey, and that you looked over the

but don't attribute imagination to me, or I shall break down altogether. O'Brien, do you mean to say seriously that

, what did

--Fahey'

ell me seriously you

you most emphati

is your c

e in ghosts, saw the ghost of Michael

nothing of y

to, and I look on you as a friend. I had hoped you would have brought me news from London--some facts not published in the papers, and bearing on this branch of the case. But you haven't. If you let this

t of this man, or he was losing his reason. There was one other possibility. He said: "I am not going to make light of what y

anything which has escaped me, you

the police may have been mistaken in their man, and the wrong man may have le

er will dispose of both. The clothes seen ten or eleven,

ou ident

ced and handled. O'Brien, I'm not afraid of ghosts, but I beg

distance, as from the top of the cliff to the p

from my eye. Now, ten years ago, and this day week, the colour, cut, and material of the coat and trousers were identical, and both times there was a circular green patch on the right elbow of the coat, about the size of my palm; and both times the ri

e than you. Let me see those documents you have,

est pleasure an

the two

PTE

BY GO

hem all hastily first, and then went over them carefully word by word. When

that he would have left his property to Mr. Davenport himself, but that so well did he know the depth of affection between Mr. Davenport and his wife, that the surest way to make a bequest acc

, on which appeared in the handwriting o

to Mr. Davenport to make some inquiries, but could learn nothing except that deceased was an eccentric fr

igned "Joh

ot nearly so regular or well-formed as the will. To judge by the handwr

daunted. The foregoing refers to skulls. With only one skull any lowest or any last

s from Fahey to O'Hanlon in the hand

ar

t will not be worth while taking any trouble in the matter. The 'Memorandum' is to be kept by you for me. In case I should absent myself from the neighbourhood for any length of time do not

rs t

ael F

g, narrow, slip of paper

Mr. Da

ope when you receive this you will have forgotten I ever exis

st faithfu

ael F

his Fahey and the Davenports; but what the nature of that connection was there was no clue to. He had no particular interest in the mystery, if it could be said to reach the dignity of a mystery. He was a kind of indifferent cen

ed. He told himself the whole matter was nothing in the world to him, a

ere th

itted suicide. The other accused Blake of poisoning, murdering him. Every one except Edward Davenport credited the former statement. Blake had formerly been Mrs. Davenport's lover, and might love her even still. Blake had got a thousand pounds years ago from the deceased for giving

death. Blake had been some years on the Continent, without visiting the United Kingdom. It was discreditable, but intelligible, that when the dead man was an elderly and unfavoured lover he should buy off his rival; but it would be absu

liking for Blake. Taking that thousand pounds years ago must have destroyed any good opinion Davenport had of Blake. Why, then, had the latter been received well and been given money? He had not only been received well and given money, but invited to dinn

fact, these stories, uncorroborated by the evidence obtained at the post-mortem examination, would have heightened suspicion rather than allayed it. At first these stories seemed prodigal

A man whom O'Hanlon knew ten or eleven years ago, and was then drowned at the hideous Black Rock, appears to O'Hanlon in the same spot and same clothes as he had been last seen alive in. It seemed as if he, O'Brien, were destined to be connected with the Davenport affair whether he would or not. Alfred Paulton was the greatest friend he had in London, and John O'Hanlon was the best friend he had in Kilbarry. He knew Blake by appearance and report, and he was acquainted with the Davenports; and here were all mixed up in the same matter in more or less degree, and all in a disagreeabl

ght as well look for help to the stars. He would c

ockets, placidly regarding through the window a tattered, battered, and wholly miserable-looking man of between sixt

ien, briskly to G

the shutter instead of his shoulder, and so facing the visitor. "I

. Gorman, I think half the people who ought

of a fishery. However, Mr. O'Brien, you need not be afraid. Your weirs are as safe as the Rock of Cashel. I often wonder why they call a rock a rock. It's about the last thing that would think of

us and treacherous Hole yawned and breathed dismay and destruction. It was odd Gorman shoul

self against the shutter opposite Gorman, "that I should have been thinki

ere acquainted with the Davenports of Kilcash, and a man who once had some connection with the Davenports was last

"I have a faint recollection of that man'

with the governor, and then got into trouble about passing flash notes. The police had their hands just on him, when he leapt into the Hole. You kn

connection between this unfort

port was abroad. Davenport himself, as far as I could find out, never volunteered information about Fahey; and, you know, he wasn't the kind of man yo

h a laugh. "A friend of mine is alre

r. O'Brien. If he left her the bulk of his fortune she will be very well off. He had no one else in the world but his brother, who is crack-b

e speculate

efore he settled down here he had been wandering pretty well over the whole civilized world. Every one who knew of his great business cleverness wondered why he retired before fifty, but he said he had enough for a lifetime, and t

mber the sto

d

rst send out the boy and order that man with the

the time, and it never came fully before the public, as the criminal was never discovered. Mr. Davenport gave notice to the foreign bank that on a certain

his was an unusual mode of proceeding, but most of his ways were unusual, if not odd. On his arrival the Bank d

skilful forgeries ever made on the Bank of England had just been committed, and that upwards of two hu

laborate scheme of fraud had been based on these bogus introductions. The scheme had been in preparation for a long time. At first a small private account was opened in the regular way i

nd then paid in and drawn out. The account was highly respectable. In the end Jenkins said he was going to live in Paris,

ve thousand pounds. Then Jenkins asked if he might deposit a box containing v

, and taking from it fifty Bank of England one hundred pound notes, asked that they might be placed to his credit, as he was expecting heavy cal

s to the manager. Next day he came in a great state of excitement. He had a vast fortune within his grasp if he could only get money that day. He took from his pocket one hundred thousand pounds in Bank of England notes, and from his box all that was in it--one hundred and ten thousand more. Would they oblige him? It was neck or nothin

e had of course a capital of ten thousand pounds in good notes, but these he carried off. What he did at the box was mostly sleight-of-hand, for he was suppos

e drew out all his money next day, when he got some of the forge

es were tens and hundreds--to the unfortunate Fahey; and although he passed them in Dublin, he got as far as Kilcash before the police came up with him. The silliest part of it all was that he should

he had intended, even bad as his asthma undoubtedly was. That's all I know of the story," said Gorma

TER

E

lon, and found that gentleman encircled by hedges of legal documents, fast asleep, with a newspaper be

ed to see you! Sit down.

Gorman what o'clock it was, and if the mail had been del

thing I had to say to my clerk. Now, ho

nd had an excellen

s dozing as you came in. Don't say anything about it. Remember your promise! B

fully. "I am not going to listen

mpletely sodden clay; its brokenhearted, lopsided, bedraggled whisk, reclining dejectedly partly against the humid white wall and partly against the bulged and staring water-butt; its dilapidated wooden shed that di

this room. Gorman told me more of Davenport and long ago than I knew up to this. But I can make

, can't you see extreme mental rel

or liver, or anything you like. Of only one thing am I sure--namely,

n too; but I can make no

them; and if I were you, now that the two men concerned in

t; I am troubling about myself. I am afraid I am going to have something seriously wrong with

that one of the best ways to adopt in a case of this kind is to brin

w! I think, O'Brien, your brain is giving w

g unusual there, you will be less disturbed by the memory of your last visit than you are now. I myself am

rnestly, co

nd then said with a sigh, fo

ave been staying too much indoors of late. Yes, I'll go. I'll be ready in half-an-hour.

me appointed, and they d

s made long straight lines of dreary canals, uncheered by traffic. Snipe, and duck, and cranes were to be seen here, but the ground was rotten, and, in places, dangerous. As far as the eye could reach no human habitation was to be seen. On one of these canals a poor hare-brained enthusiast had built a sma

w rug about his knees. He used the whip with monotonous regularity and monotonous absence of result. The horse seemed to feel that not even man could be in a hurry on such a day. There was no movement in sky, or air, or on the land. The car startled two cranes that were fishin

landscape afforded no subject for pleasant remark, and the younger man did not care to make matters gloomier. He had nothing new to communicate, so h

ll of leaden sky still spread unbroken above, it could be felt that sunlight existed somewhere overhead. The bleak vacuity of an overcast winter day was being insensibly filled with assurances of activity and life, and from the wide sweep of the full horizontal front

, until they could tell what part of the sky lay

and. Here the roar and rattle of stubborn boulders torn from their rocky holds by the mad out-wash of the shattered wave. Here the low hollow groaning of protesting caves, vocal, inscrutable. Afar off the deep boom of

g beyond the ordinary wint

, and the two f

lonely there on a day like this. Don't go down. Don't trust yourself on that rock a day like this. She

across the downs, the y

TER

RO

escending from the clouds. The long, even roller of the Atlantic stole slowly, deliberately, sullenly, from the level plains of the ocean, growing to the eye imperceptibly as

ely Kilcash House, which had for years been the home of the dead man and his beautiful wife. Below, between the towering, oppressive, liver-colou

the bursting wave, the roar of the outwashing boulders, and the shrill hiss of the falling spray, made the dismal scene more deserted and forlorn. The sea and cliffs were forbidd

ightly hollowed towards the sea, and would, but for the Black Rock beneath, form a bay-like indentation in the shore. The chord of t

s the inner cliff, but were arrested, dispersed, and poured down the sides of the Rock ere they reached the inner cliff. The Rock was highest at the centre, and descended to right, left, front, and rear. But although it was lower at the rear than in the centre, it was much higher there than in front. Viewed from above, it was not unl

it was black only by comparison with the cliffs. The surface was made up of smooth, slimy ridges, dark blue-green in

ipping into the sea, unless the misfortune occurred very near the brink. Then a fall and a plunge were certain death, for the great rollers of the ocean would gri

d in an arc like a bent bow, until his head touched the top of the next ridge behind. All his muscles instantly relaxed, his chin was crushed down upon his chest, he rolled for an instant into a shapeless heap, rolled down

hout warning, it sprang forth upon its victim, and seized him and bore him away to certain and awful death. It gave no chance of respite or rescue; it gave no time for thought or prayer. One moment man in the full vigour o

t had begun to exist centuries ago. It varied in length with the season of the year, and in bulk with the phases of the moon. It had its lair in a cave. No boat along all that coast durst enter the Whale's Mouth for fear of it; for although much could be foretold of its habits, all could not. No one could infal

a hundred and fifty feet one way by t

ew its ways better than strangers. And yet people of the village had fallen a prey to its fury. More than a dozen villagers had within four generations died in its deadly embrace, and more than an equal n

: the prospect of a violent death fascinates him. The love of daring certain death by violence is found in few; the willingness to dare great peril by violence is almost universal in young men of healthy bodies and minds. It has been justly said that the most extraord

mstances of the greatest danger. They mentioned their intention freely, and were warned by the simple people of the village that they ran a risk in going to the spot they named, and at the time they selected, and that they absolutely courted death by delaying for luncheon. That afternoon one of the three ran the whole way back into the village and told the appalling tale. He had strayed a few yards from his friends, when suddenly burst upon his ea

ck, but a dark, dirty olive green. Perhaps it got its name

They lean outward and take the form of huge broad broken pilasters, set against an irregular wall. These cliffs, like the Rock, are always damp, but, unlike the Rock, never

. This part of the bay slants inwards, not outwards, as the two arms. In this part a little copper ore was once found, and a shaft sunk. But the mine proved of no practical value, and, after absorbing much money, was abandoned fifty years ago. The shaft was sunk two hundred feet; but here, even if the mine had proved rich, the water would have presented serious difficulties, for after getting down a hundred and twenty feet it began to appear, and at a hundred and fifty it occasioned delay and inconvenience. Forty years ago the top of the shaft had been covered with planks and clay to pre

ind had cut a little here and filled up a little there, and levelled a little in another place, but the lion's share of the work had been found ready to man'

at the broad expanse of slanting rock, only two things caught the eye, when the dimensions, the colour, and conformation had been taken in. Directly in front, and almost in the middle of the R

m of the Rock, there is a black spot which, upon closer inspection, proves to

anlon pointed his arm

ole. You know

cognise him so far off," said O'

ent on without hesitation, and then jumped in. He or it, whichever you prefer,

nd on his chin and his eyes turned on the blea

ything--that thing again?" he asked at length-

little before he dre

f the worst--be certain whether I am to

escended to t

TER

OF THE

g in the dull air overhead. They had come back from their long day's fishing far out to sea and up and do

--the sea that for ever chafes and storms, and seeks to eat away or overwhelm the land because it spurns an

xis, then water would be supreme, and this planet would be a polished, argent sphere, flashing through

nto the hidden hollows at the mouths of rivers. All the deltas of the world are offerings of the torrents and rivers towards carrying out the grand scheme of the oceans met

orous foes of the land and hurls them on the loftiest mountains, so that they may gain the greatest speed and rending force and carrying power as they fly back with spoils of earth to their o

ith that coldest of all things on earth, the glacier, to complete the havoc. The power of the wind is but partial, intermittent; that of the moon and the glacier general, everl

should naturally be the lieutenant of the denser of the two combatants. This is the most relentless, the most unmerciful leveller of all. It seizes with equal avi

inds the vapours of the oceans together, and scatters them when it reaches the hills. It rends trees

sea has deserted its own side for the land. It is one force, but it operates through hundreds of thousands, of millions of agents; it is the coral insect. It transmutes the waters which give life and sustenance to it in

n tear down in a hundred years. The central fire pushes an ocean aside with as much ease as a wave raises a boa

he world's working forces, are more than equal to all the forces arr

ffs. Here the sea, and the tides, and the winds, and gravitation worked on unchallenged by active resistance. Year after year, almost imperceptible pieces of cliff fell, were engulfed. Year after year the incessant action of the

s put off from Kilcash for "The Caves," as the district in which they were to be found was, with pecu

s. Others had sad stories of truthful tragedies. It was safe to enter one at low water only, and safe to stay no longer than a few minutes because of the stalactites. If you wished to see another, and not stay in its black, chill maw for four hours, you must go on the top of high water,

lcash or the next village to it would face, was calle

ance to it is about fifteen feet high and of equal breadth. The difference between high and low water here is about fifteen feet

roller of the Atlantic is always against its sides. The general formation of the cave is that of a square. It is more like the hideous distended jaws of the crocod

an of the first had ever been seen again. Part of the boat, oars, and crew of the other had been seen for one brief moment, smashed and

closer together. There was no rock or obstruction of any kind visible in it. The long, even swells rolled in unbroken; but after each wave passed out of sight there was a deep tumultuous

omewhere it expanded prodigiously. At flood tide the water went in eagerly; at ebb tide it ran out at so quick a rate, many believed a large body of fresh water, or f

ey never were seen by man again. Some of the simpler people believed that there was a whirlpool at the end of the cave, and that if this whirlpool took anything down, it never gave that thing, or sign or token of that thing, back a

is was not wholly from fear of the monster, but of the place itself, with its loud explosions, its unaccountable indraught and outflow, and

rossing the Black Rock without acci

inting--"just there. I saw him as

he north-east, or sho

rmly on their heads and grasp one another round the waist, crept cautiou

ng irregularly as it went down to about half that size. The depth from wh

lly scant of light, and the light

stood seemed to be about twenty-five feet thick, and the free space between the bottom of the rock and the surface of

ered the vestibule of the cave swung the uneasy seething mass inward, to return in a few seconds on the back-wash. But the froth did not come ba

ength of time. After a few minutes

wn there for five minutes,"

ter. But, I say, O'Hanlon, what cool and roomy lodging it would

id O'Hanlon, uneasily. "Let us ge

was seen here both in the flesh and the spirit for the la

cket, and read the papers

papers are simple enough on the surface,

red O'Hanlo

g his thoughts to getting safely over

read out

ndaunted. The foregoing refers to sculls. With only one skull any lowest or any last

I confess I can't make

the other

eached the foo

rubbish. Wha

gated r

and 'sculls' with a line under each? The w

as a man of so

ed in his wa

hink I hav

E

an, do you think he could spe

uld th

have a

t is

ai

TER

LC

ng on the road without saying anything further. The former was busy with hi

southern brogue, "going down there on an uncertain season like this

aid O'Brien,

orse for it. Now, drive on to Kilcas

and the remainder of the journ

s live in the neighbourhood, and many who dwell at a distance use it as a holiday resort. In winter it is dreary, deserted, dead. The closed-up lodging-houses and cottages which, under the influence of the summer sun, grow bright and cheerful with flowers an

of the poor, no bellman, no watering-carts, no workhouse, no police-court, no tax or rate collector, no exciseman, no soldier, no lawyer

nding their sewer when the rain-water of winter burst it. No doubt some one paid for putting metal on the roads wh

d in the station on the hill, carbines and cutlasses of which Kilcash stood in no more awe than it did of the bulrushes in the bog at the back of the village. To be sure, there was a theory that upon occasion the police might call on the coastguards to come out and assist them. But what this occasion was no one knew. Sergeant Mahony had been heard to hint broadly that in such a dire extremity--which would not, he said, curdle his blood in the least--the chief command would devolve on him. Although nothing was known for certain as to the exigency which might pla

a reason lost in the obscurity of local dulness, this fool was named "The Prince of Orange." He went about barefooted, in the most gaudy raiment he could beg. He preferred a soldiers or a huntsman's cast-off coat to any other, and if he was fortunate enough to get such a garment, he stitched to it all the blue, yellow, an

rse the advent of the visitors filled the pockets of the inhabitants, which was no more than the inhabitants were entitled to expect, which was no more

These people who came with the long, hot days had near their own homes lakes or rivers, or pools or wells. All these were water--nothing but water. There was salt in o

k of rheumatism, and fever, and bronchitis, and pleurisy, and lumbago, and other diseases, a thousand times worse at the sea than inland? Did any one ever know the land to kill a man? How many thousands a year did the sea kill? In the heat of summer it was all very well to bathe, and swim, and lie about on the sands and rocks, to wade and tumble into pools and get drenched with spray. But wait until the winter comes. Wait until the

, and the night of leaden gloom which descended on them when the visitors departed for the year. The inhabitants of Kilcash never smiled in winter.

extract O'Brien's idea from him, but the latter would not speak. He smiled, and repeated his former word "Wait." O'Brien in his turn trie

ver, O'Brien

my going out for

e on earth are you going at such an hour, in s

re you would never dream of entering such

t pl

respectable for

! I'll go

u a sovereig

on

to drink a pint of beer and smoke a

our mind too, or are you joking? Oh, I know! You want t

, and I'll take the money now, if

ve been there. But if you really are going to that

t. I find

his eyes and regar

s it?"

smart at the expense of an old friend without good reason. He suspected O

ng over to the dispensary to ask Dr. Flynn to drop in presently, as th

said half

'll drive me mad; and won't that be a nice kettle of fish? Now look here: Are you, or are you not, coming with me to the '

on the chair from which he had risen. "It would

k within an hour. Don't forget you owe

TER

LUE AN

t was small, low, dingy, blear-windowed, dilapidated. It stood in a little by-street, if a place like Kilcash can be said to have a by-street, since it h

l panes of unclean glass. The house is two storeys high; the ground-floor consists of three rooms--namely, the bar, t

haste, and take their liquor seated in the tap-room--or tap, as it is familiarly and affectionately called by those who are familiar with the place. It is about twelve feet square, with a large deal table in the middle, and a bench on each side of the table. At the upper end is a hearth, on which smoulders a good peat fire, the smoke from which goes up a large flue that comes down to within five feet of

lity of that table. Whenever he is angered by anything, he goes into the tap-room, places his hands flat on the middle of the table, and gives two, three, or four shakes, according to the

ohn, his wife, and daughter. In summer the men are too busy to go often, except for a pint or

d run out from Kilbarry for the evening, with a view to seeing how things were in the village, and how things were likely to be there in the co

a definite meaning to his wo

o marry, sir, and settle down and

e, coloured a little,

meant about the fishing, you know. I'

d of the counter, and bringing his vast stomach safely into view, with w

tobacco for himself, and then asked if all, John Tobin included, would have a drink, "because, you know," said he, "as I never have been here before, it is only fair I should pay my footing," a speech which was ve

fishing, and the chances of its being a good one. By the end of half-an-hour th

d Mr. O'Hanlon, who was with me, got down and went out on it. I haven't been on it for I don't kn

I wonder you weren't afraid to go down, sir, at such a time of year. Ah, but when you were passing it was no more than about half

'm not such a fool as that. I was curious to see

id John Tobin

the general feeling of Kilcash towards the event. It was nothing to the v

it?--who went down the Hole of his own free will, or, rather, when he was ch

they all re

hought we'd go and look at the place where he took his awful leap. It

. "Mr. Davenport, I will say, afterwards cleared the man

's innocent, he needn't run off and drown himself. He must have remembered Mr.

men shook

aid O'Brien. "This unfortun

he wasn't drowned seven days in the week. Nothing would satisfy him but to keep dodging about that Black Rock in his tub of a punt, all by hims

manage that bo

No, s

e pull

it, I think he was pretty handy with the oars--for a spell, you know. He'd be dead beat in a j

see him scull

have,

andy from the

your finger in a mill-race. But as far as I can remember, he could handle an o

ed to this miser

somewhere, for if anything happened to the punt on the east shore he'd never come back to tell what it was, for there isn't a landing-place there for anything from the sea but g

dangerous than the west, isn't it strange h

e coves, and little bays, and little strands, and sharp rocks half covered, and so on, so that he might s

do you know the exact rise and fal

ct rise

eap tide from dead low wate

ay to the inch

don't want it to the i

who had not yet opened his mouth. Aft

, sir, if anything of cons

here's no bet on it; you needn't be afraid. I'm only asking for information. I may be comi

to sixte

fifteen feet six

But there's the wind to be taken i

o the Whale's Mouth--I me

tching out his hand at arm's length.

e is the

lace we're rather shy of, as you know.

't pull a y

p into the bowels of the land, and the other was broken into ten thousand sp

o say would you

N

hy

r the yawl and the oars; and in the other place, I'd drop

too narrow to allow

ou, sir; and if you're asking me these questions with the intent

Mouth. I am inquiring simply for information, and perhaps if I come here in the summer, I may ask you to take care of me while I am having

how many feet,

en

y as that, but

able, and made some figures on it with his finger. The

he Whale's Mouth, notice whether it was stra

aight, as far a

quite sur

rta

n after he took his leave, having by some strange freak of preoccupation

ttage. No phosphorescent gleam came from the sea, but a mournful, ghostly sound of wailing, as its waves, reduced by their passage up the bay, broke in diminished force ag

barriers of its dominions. He was thinking of the Black Rock, and of his sick friend, Alfred Paulton; and of O'Hanlon, and of the fate of Mike Fahey,

ep his great company of players in order at first. They hustled and jostled one another in his mind--all except Madge--his Madge! She

a few trifling affairs, but up to this he had never made up his mind to marry. That was the great test. Then look at the way he was mixed up in the Paulton and Davenport affair! Alfred, Madge's brother, succours Mrs. Davenport, and falls in love with the widow. He, Jerry O'Brien, causes a relapse in Alfred's case by some indiscreet words spoken by him of Mrs. Davenport. Then the Fishery Commissioners (whom may perdition lay hold of and keep for ever!) come howling to him about those weirs, and O'Hanlon tells him he must come over to Ireland post-haste, or he'

ll end? Except for poor Alfred's illness and the Fishery Commis

ack to O'Hanlon, who

ly, as he got back to the coffee-roo

you

t, I'm blowed, I was so much amused t

l that is wonderful could amuse

some facts about your o

s any one

n, and they had

me of heav

twelve y

O'Hanlon. "A

N

much good fo

not seen the ghost which stri

en. You kno

to know. I have learned so

TER

HE C

couraging, reassuring. He would divulge nothing, nor indicate the nature of his hopes; but he told O'Hanlon in a confident manner that he might dismiss all thought of

shook h

in ghosts; neither do you, I am sure. You

ot tell you all, I am prevented from doing so only by the want of conclusive evidence. I shall hang abou

eat in everything save this one subject, which so unpleasantly and threateningly engrossed his thoughts. He was a ma

d was gradually recovering, and that Dr. Santley hoped to have his patient up and about in a short time, his youth and good constitution favouring rapid convalescence now that the acute stage of the disease was passed. All at Carlingford House were well, and joined in sending kindest regards to him, and hoped he would soon get rid of h

is, struck the table wit

l come here. I'll run over for him if all the Fishery Commissioners whom Satan can spare were t

uncheon he walked every day along the downs as far as the Black Rock. There, when the weather was fine,

d. He was the only guest, and the staff

r commiseration. If I only had Alfred here I'd be as happy as a king. But until he comes I must try and keep up an interest in O'Hanlon's ghost. I begin now to think O'Hanlon is going mad, after all; for I can neither hear

t used to such a place at such a time. But O'Brien had been brought up close t

sea is absolute, dominant--master of the scene. In its presence there is nothing to take the mind away from it. The land and the air and the clouds have suffered change: the sea is alone immutable. It is not t

t a man who deliberately sat down to write verses which were not intended purely to bring in money must be in a bad state of health. He never concerned himself with elaborate analysis of his feelings, or moaned because the destinies had not ordained splendours for

as asked by another friend to help him over a horrible suspicion that this other friend had of his own sanity. Here surely was matter for ab

lfred would be the south of Ireland, and that there was no spot in the south of Ireland at all equal to Kilcash for any one who needed recruiting. Then he sent his very kindest regards to each

e south of Europe would be preferable, he had at length yielded to Alfred's earnest importunities to be sent to Ireland, where he

this--he has not only got over his dangerous physical illness, but that much more dangerous affection of the heart from which he has been suffering. What a madness that was! I hope

t now and then he met burly Jim Phelan, the boatman, and

f the year. But scarcely a breath of wind touched the sea. The long even rollers slid into the bay, and burst upon the sands in front of the village. They flung the

akfast, he met Jim Phelan, and, as usual, got into talk wit

u asked me a whole lot about the Black Rock and

he sky. "I have often been here, winter and summer, but I have n

t already, and I'm greatly mistaken if we haven't a whole gale before a couple of hours are over. That won't give much time for the sea to get up, but I

icular to do to-day, and I cer

rticular to do to-day either, and

ry glad. When s

as well be there at the beginning, so w

es

hed the two men, and the

put on your oilskins. I'll run and

aid O'Brien, with a smile. "Wil

nd fixedly into the south

een brewing a long time, and we're going to have it now, and no mistake. I'll get you a set of oilskins, and maybe if you went up

aid O'Brien; a

ns a size too big. Jim had brought a sou'-wester also. He himself wore his own oi

er and of longer duration than the former one, struck them. Jim tied the s

man, shaking himself loose in his ove

y shoreward, staggering a little here and there when they passed over some sunken rock. Down in the south-west the sky was leaden-coloured, with long fangs of cloud stretching towards the land and g

lowest button of his coat. "She hasn't spouted now since a little a

me over th

-westerly gale to send it over the cliffs. Ah, that was a stiffer squall than the last! It's

st had caught O'Brien in front and threatene

. They are hurrying on at a dizzy rate. Out far upon the water under the lowering cloud a dulness has crept. The g

ross the waves and strike the cliffs the foam is blown upward, hissing, and bursts into smoke against the crags. From u

rm will last so long

think there's that much due to

ithin a few hundred yards of the rock, when they can plainly see the outline of the little bay in which it is wedged, the storm bursts fully upon them. One blast strikes them, and lasts a minute. They are obliged to stand still, leani

yet roused. Foam spurts aloft, where, before, the dull blue waters rose and fell unbroken. The spray crawls further and further upward ag

lack Rock. The figure of a man is seen clearly against the sky-line. It gr

helan. "It is certain

each the cliff directly over the fatal rock. They look down, around

is to b

TER

STER LE

Black Rock. From where they stood descended the pathway to the table rock below. On the broken ground around them was nothing taller than dwarf bushes, which could not conceal a goat and to reach which the sure-footedn

man's head could not be hidden there. Whither had that figure gone? It could not have reached the sea in the time. The monster had not yet broken loose, and the man

noticed that the latter

above the storm. "You saw

es

you mak

n't k

man was to be seen. Except for their presence, the place might have

and all harm, but it m

ve got to the Ho

he had

y? Of course you did.

Lord, it w

. Anything like a regular conversation was now im

hands. He, being innocent, was suspected of a crime; or, rather, he had innocently, in ignorance, committed a criminal act, and being pursued and hard pressed, had flung himself headlong into that awful pit. Within a couple of weeks or so, O'Hanlon had seen that same figure in this plac

o be his t

ergo some stupendous change, display some more incomprehensible marvel. O'Brien stood back a few

Brien, and, putting his mouth clos

blo

d his eyes to

ff. A booming, hollow sound, like the flapping of distant thunder among hills, weighed on the air, a

his hands towards t

oo

k that drowned the raging of the storm. It rose fifty feet into the air, turned inward towards the cliff, and then topple

er had br

at this could be no display of ordinary power, but that the cliffs and rocks were riven by some Titanic force never exercised before. He felt

ng once more into the air, this time to twice its former height. He was appalled, and again sprang back. The gale caught th

get out of the reach of the water, and then s

. The Hole did not spout at every wave, but took breathing space like a living thing. Now he understood why the opening of the cave was called the Whale's Mouth. Now he understood why the people said "she spouts" when the Puffing Hole flung its hundreds of tons of water

t might enter that cave and come out uninjured--that a ma

f Fahey, who had committed suicide there ten or eleven years ago. Nothing could be simpler or more natural than this explanation. It was a horribly wicked thing to commit suicide, but to throw one's self into the Puffing Hole was a double crime; for, in addition to making away with life, it was defying Providence--it was courting the most awful death that could be sought by man. The supernatural appearance that day was to be a warning t

ER XX

HT TR

Kilcash, he thought the whole matter over for a

ar O'H

ithin a few hundred yards of the cliff over the Rock, we both plainly saw the figure of a man, whic

rs a

iah O'

d went out to pay another

er folk as a rule retired very early during the long nights, most of them made an exception on this occasion. Many of the men and women

erings. He was the hero of the hour, and the natural

r of the Storm Wall on the shoreward face in a breeze or rain, or the rocks beneath the wall when the weather was fine. But neither of these, nor even the bar of the "Blue Anchor" itself, accorded with grave or exciting discourse of an excep

ce was the signal for silence. This was partly owing to his superior social position, and partly to the fact that his name had mingled freely in the talk for some time. He

en were all seated as close as

d any of you ever hear of anything like it until now?--I mean, did any of you eve

n the negative; the ot

d from Phelan of Fahey, and asked the oth

nd an explanation. But this produced no better result. He felt baffled, discourag

During the time he had sat there and smoked his cigar, he had heard much of what he knew repeated over a

rugged clouds, wreckage of the gale. Here and there groups of pale stars shone out in the dull sky. The night was not dark. No moon s

ashed into fury, and was breaking in sheets over the Storm Wall, under

r the middle of the bow, not on the main road, but on a little narrow road running at right angles to the Storm Wall, and on which were very few houses. At the end of this by-road, and to the right facing the sea, lay the cottages of the village. These were owned chiefly by fishermen, and were let to visitors in the summer, while the families of the fishermen retired to some other

, except for the lights in the one hotel and the one public-house. The few shops were never in the winter open after seven, and not ten in a hundred of the inhabitants were out of bed at nine o'clo

ion afforded by the wall, he became aware that one of the shops was

a little garden--for all the houses and cottages,

idleness, rather than curiosity, he kept his eyes on t

a view of it without turning his head back inconveniently, som

and partly out of a desire to try and make out what kind of being had the daring to come with custom to M'Grath's at such an unusual hour, he kept his face turned inland, and looked at the figure which had emerged from the shop. The form was that of a man--a man of the

.' And yet where can he be going? No person living in the village would dream of knocking up

imbed partly up the slope of the downs. The nearest dwelling-place beyond the hotel was Kilcash House, the late Mr. Davenport'

ne last look at the sea, with the reflection, "There is nowhere else for him but the 'Strand'--unless," he thought, with a smile, "he

lung up a hundred feet into the air. Now, no doubt, it was mounting a hundred and fifty feet--ay, two hundred feet, in a solid, unbroken, bent column! What a hideous fate it would be to stand down on that fatal rock and, with the certainty of immediate destruction, watch that dire column mount up into the air! Ugh! It wasn't a thing

f M'Grath's ought by this time to have got within its h

I think of it, the whole male force attached to the house in any capacity consists of old Billy Coyne, the stable man, and myself. I've not been in M

y off him, and was on the point of moving away when his eyes caught something moving upward and forward on that path. What the object was he could not determine, for the light was poor and uncertain, and the distance considerable. One

hotel. He was in the act of taking off his overcoat in the hall when he caught sight of old Billy Coyne, who i

just now, Bil

swered the old man, help

at came out of M'Grath's ca

on his back?" queried the

id O'Brie

at he considered the

could, and no one did, come in. Nobody," added Coyne, emphatically, "crossed that threshold"--pointing to the front doorway--"since you went out, sir, until you yourself crossed it this minute. I

eyes, and looked at the man. Coyne did not s

and when you are coming back, bri

Carey, the landlady, nor Mary, the housemaid, had seen or heard any o

his attention was taken off the figure and given to the sea. No man was to be seen when he turned round, but something was going up the path to the downs. That something must have been the man he had seen leave M'Grath's. Nothing could be plainer than that. But who in the name of al

y, o

h, contemptible. Besides, ghosts did not, as far as he knew, knock up the proprietor of a general shop an

witnesses incapable of making a mistake in the matter. The word of one man in a case of this kind would be open to doubt, but two men said they saw Fahey jump into the Puffing Hole years ago. That very day he (O'Brien) had seen a figur

figure getting a shop opened at night, and in the face of a fierc

st were fictitious or real, or if Fahey were alive or dead? He'd put the whole

les, and vinegar, and calico, and tea, and butter, and sweetmeats, and fishing-hooks, and hoops, and wooden spades, and white lead, and garden seeds, and flowers of sulphur, and dried haddock, and camp-stools,

st night," said O'Brien, wh

s time he often bought things in this shop, and that as he was passing through

since he was h

years since he

e is no

a bad cough too; and to think of him walking a night like

y-five!" muttered Jer

ry day of it. I don't think the p

t, he thought, bear much on the case. The

TER

ICH

himself bound in on all sides with perplexities. He told himself a hundred times that here was evidence enough to satisfy the most sceptical of judges and juries; and yet he, a mere solicitor, could not make up his mind to believe. O'Brien, Phelan, and himself had seen something they would swear was the figure o

containing a globe as big as the earth for every second of time since the beginning of the Christian era. At first he had said this astounding statement was not true, but whe

It stood on as firm a basis as testimony could desire, and yet it was naught to him but myth. Many of

t he, O'Hanlon, need no longer fe

ghost or still more impossible man, the affair was non

Hanlon's fire after dinner, and they both agreed that they would then and

ourhood; but no one alive, themselves included, could tell what they were going to do, or were not going to do, but th

village; but he now had business to watch in Kilbarry. Certificates, and memorials, and declarations, and so on, had to be obtained or attended to, and although O'Hanlon did all the business in connecti

aused him an agreeable surprise. The envelope bore the London postmark, and the superscript

ith pleasure, until he came to the last two sentences--"I do no

he is older than he, and I am sure she would not marry him, even if a sleepy Government would only have the good sense and good taste to hang Blake instead of worrying honest folk about weirs and other things. Alfred is the best fellow in the world. Who could associate with Mad

him, and looked at the sleeve of his coa

d the moment he turned crusty, you would only have to ask your sister to poison him. I'm sorry I haven't a sister. But, stay, I will have one soon. Edith must marry a Commissioner. When Madge and I are settled, I will ask Edith to stay with us, and fill the house from garret to basement with Commissioners. (I wonder how many of the beasts there are?) But I must not say anything to Madge about this scheme until we are married. If I mentioned

cted and coherent when he lik

ow. Beyond doubt Alfred was in love with this strange and beautiful woman. Jerry did not wonder at his young friend's enthusiasm. He would have been a cold-blooded man under thirty who could see her without feeling profound admiration. But Alfred would have to get over this infatuation. It could never come to anything. Of course time would cur

that his friend and adviser at length became suspicious and finally certain of the cause from which Jerry's anxiety

ring slightly, and looking his

ent! A marriage settleme

n. I wish you'd get a set

the weirs had not been pulled down by the ruthless Commissioners. The other sense was discouraging: the Commissioners had not yet done with the weirs, and the weirs were still in danger of being pulled down, as engines which obstructed the free navigatio

nd they were all out with the exception of the invalid. At first this rather chilled Jerry, but upon a moment's consideration he thought that after all it was best Alfred and he should have a few moments

. The two friends held one another by the hand for some time in silence. Then Jerry spoke and thanked heaven Alfred looked so well, quite w

st heard surp

d Jerry, looking k

n are we to go to I

like, my dea

on?" he ask

at your disposal. But do not run any

cost him in the way of self-denial if he w

ou hurry aw

course I'll do anything you wis

tart to-morrow

y, what's the

e for to-day. But to-morr

his excitement? It's the d

hy, she's ther

the name

Dave

TER

ER VI

unted--which it would have been idle to anticipate. The position in which he found himself was perplexing, absurd. It was useless to hope any longer that Alfred was not desperately in love with this woman,

ught, gone away by this time. How do you know she

iled and

came back the day before yesterday, and is in Ireland now. I am most a

on Jerry's face, and tried to make it seem as though

and seriously, "it won't do

" cried Al

afield from the subject to which Alf

led or denied. The moment a p

yet whether we shall start

e you ever b

and a dull, dim kind of pride in some feeling he had,

miserable feeling. It's not good enough to cr

ything about it, Jerry? I th

ou know of all people in the wor

N

y choose to be. If they pleased, they could all be Chief Justices, or Archbishops, or Fishery Commissioners, or anything else fearfully intellectual they

bordering on the sentimental. He would have embraced with delight any chance of breaking into the most extravagant sentimentality himself. To think of

Alfred

are so despe

desponding tone. "A fool must be a f

brawling love

of nothing

htness!--se

aos of well-s

right smoke, cold

leep, that is

I, that feel

ou not

nything to laugh at. That seems a ver

sleeve, and to his own self, he put the thing in rhyming couplets. Nearly all his rhyming couplets are jokes for his own delight, and for the vexation and contem

opening it, "that's my mother and the girl

t is not what it is.' Romeo is the most contemptible figure in all history, and Juliet

ell, tha

f he'd only turn his tragic attention to those accursed Commissioners. Just fancy a lot of apoplectic fools, bursting, so to speak, with the want of knowledge of anything, and standing between t

she said, as she sat down on a chair, adju

over," he said; "the

t be too strong for Mrs. P

," he added, in explanation, "

y foolish things. But then he didn't care. He did not w

, "father might take us over ne

face again. It was

respectable old gentleman, her father, till the crack of doom? Nonsense! She isn't a bit good-looking," he thought, looking down into her eyes, and when she lowered her eyes, gazing devoutly at her hat--"she isn't a bit good-looking--

ite well again?" asked Mrs

s ever, and of course will be be

re," said Alfred, with abounding cheerfulness. "I feel

r enjoyed life thoroughly--Falstaff and Raffaelle. What was the burden of flesh carried by Falstaff compared to this 'feather of lead!' What were a

said Mrs. Paulton. "I told Alfred to be sure to say that we

swered Alfred. "He'll stay w

hat Madge was particularly dear to him. Still, common hospitality would scarcely allow a man to hurry a guest away from under his own roof after twenty-four hours' stay, particularly when that friend had come several hundred miles to do his host a good turn. No, hospitality would not allow a man to do it, but love would. He, Jerry, could not plead fatigue. That would be grotesque in a healthy young man. He would not lie and

ors into the front drawing-room. Here a bright fire burned. Alfred went to th

a visitor comin

aid Alfred wit

t's a

rig

s Mrs. D

ha

lfred was by

aughed

epeated in an int

zed, but he did n

TER

EEN ALWAY

or, and was shown into the back drawin

in my trouble. I am afraid that at the time I was too intent on my own misfortunes to say as fully as I ought what I shoul

'Brien and Paulton could hear and see everything going on in the

u must not think of the matter. We were, and are, deeply sorry for you, and our only feeli

gly suspicions because a crazy old husband had made away with his life in a perfectly mad manner, and without being in the least induced to

Blake's release he stayed in London, although Mrs. Davenport was away in France. Since t

Paulton knew that her husband would be delighted to show her any civility or kindness he could. The

hand to the former, and thanked him for what he had don

. O'Brien, for my rudenes

thing. I am shocked to think you should have for a moment rested under so unpleasan

d not greatly admire Mrs. Davenport. She thought her too grand and cold and rese

er wan smile. "When I met you in this house the day after the--the dread

a moment imagine I did not realise h

m more than afraid, if you knew exactly how I felt, you would not be able to forgive me so readily. I suppose it was owing to

surprise and confusion. "What could

eatest consideration from you and every one else here. I have since learned that I owe my introduc

delight enough to outweigh all the troubles he had yet known; but to fee

he clear, curved line, and parted easily, readily. Only hints of the superlative graces of the figure came through her heavy mantle. The hands lay clasped in suppliant ease in the lap. Now that she was free from commanding excitement, her voice drew attention to itself. The face and head, and the carriage and pose of the head, were full of authority and comman

ll? Or was it that she did not at the time of the fatal occurrence wish any one to be near who knew much of her former life? Could it be that if he had been absent f

avenport to Alfred, a

love with her. If I were in his shoes, I don't kno

gratefull

but she knew they were not eyes of disapproval or dislike, a

enjoy. When one is sailing in the sun over a summer bay, who wants to analyse the light, and hear of the solar spectrum? When one is at the opera, who cares about the number of vibrations it takes to produce a certain note? When one is in love, who cares to analyse the ch

ld be as straightforward and downright as any other man alive. He could stick to his opinions, and had a contempt for consequences. In manner he was a trifle arroga

er be her husband. Davenport was her owner. If ever she marries again, it will be a master or a slave. Poor Alfred would make a fine master for such an Amazon! But it's downright brutal of me to call her an Amazon. After all, it would be a very terrible thing to be loved

d found her distracted with horror, had lent her aid, and seen her relieved by his own act. He had, in however humble a way, played the part of protector. He had seen the feminine, the dependant side of her nature revealed. She might be stately, commanding, self-sufficient, imperious to others. To him she would always be the woman who once leaned upon his manhood. Her beauty, her grace, her comma

had gone away of her own free will and of her own independent initiative, he was unable to rid himself of the feeling that he expelled this woman from his roof when she most needed friendship and protection. She had come out of the ordeal of the trial p

n in his most solicitous voice. "If I, or any of us, can b

he had already done. She had gone to France for a short time to calm her

rbance. I am weary of strife, and yearn for quiet. Kilcash is not a very lively place, but it seems to me t

ok his head in gal

grateful and beneficial to you; but we must see you again.

new friend,"

tell her she was dearer to them than all the othe

nder most peculiar and distressing circumstances, and you have won all our love." He took her hand with paternal cordiality. "If we are so unfortunate as not to find a little place in your heart, it must b

n, and had always been on the best terms with his father; but he never felt absolutely proud of the old man before. He coloured with pleasure. This simple homage of the old man touched all--Mrs. Davenport herself--as something sacred. The tears stood in his wife's eyes. What a privilege it

the widow's other

the tears formed in her eyes and fell down upon her black dress. Alfred and O'Brien withd

ead gradually sank on her chest; she breathed heavi

go now,"

You must stay with us

ully into the ot

since I was born,

" asked Mrs. Pau

have some connection wit

id of comp

ly into the dark, fathomless, tearful eyes, now startled, look

e nodded towards her husband.

ck. I am going"--a shudd

turned rou

us so soon. Go with my wife; she will comfort y

l woman rais

ok. I am thirty-four; but in all my life I have lived alone, within myself, and your kindness--the kindness of you and Mrs. Paulton has been too much for me. It

and took her a

e have been able to do a little for you, do you a little for

I cannot.

ney to the south of Ireland. Perhaps we can find you an escort--company." He passed into the front room. The two young men were seate

ng of going soo

he had asked the lonely woman to stay with them for a while. His father had

go to-night; but if you can manage to go to-mor

sir," said Alfred, turning

e the two women stood. "It is all settled. We will not ask you to do too much for us this time. Mr. O'Brien and my son are starting

ing to Kilcash! Surely this is

set off at once--to-night? Mr. O'Brien arrived in London only last night, and I could not dream of asking him to start again for Ireland this evening. Besides

on guided her reluctant steps to th

lone. I must have

am used to tra

ing an exception. Now, we never a

nport shook her head mournfully, and suffered he

F VOL

* * *

AND EVANS, CRYST