excited my curiosity, was concealed under the | when the door should be opened, and before me. shadow of the dark side of the quadrangle. I placed my hand over my eyes to shade them from the moonlight, which was so bright as to be almost dazzling, and, peering into the darkness, I first dimly, but afterwards gradually, almost with full distinctness, beheld the form of a man engaged in digging what appeared to be a rude hole close under the wall. Some implements, probably a shovel and pickaxe, lay beside him, and to these he every now and then applied himself as the nature of the ground required. He pursued his task rapidly, and with as little noise as possible. "So," thought I, as shovelful after shovelful the dislodged rubbish mounted into a heap, "they are digging the grave in which, before two hours pass, I must lie, a cold, mangled corpse. I am theirs-I cannot escape." I felt as if my reason was leaving me. I started to my feet, and in mere despair I applied myself again to each of the two doors alternately. I strained every nerve and sinew, but I might as well have attempted, with my single strength, to force the building itself from its foundation. I threw myself madly upon the ground, and clasped my hands over my eyes as if to shut out the horrible images which crowded upon The paroxysm passed away. I prayed once more with the bitter, agonized fervour of one who feels that the hour of death is present and inevitable. When I arose I went once more to the window and looked out, just in time to see a shadowy figure glide stealthily along the wall. The task was finished. The catastrophe of the tragedy must soon be accomplished. I determined now to defend my life to the last; and that I might be able to do so with some effect, I searched the room for something which might serve as a weapon; but either through accident, or from an anticipation of such a possibility, everything which might have been made available for such a purpose had been carefully removed. I must thus die tamely and without an effort to defend myself. A thought suddenly struck me -might it not be possible to escape through the door, which the assassin must open in order to enter the room? I resolved to make the attempt. I felt assured that the door through which ingress to the room would be effected was that which opened upon the lobby. It was the more direct way, besides being, for obvious reasons, less liable to interruption than the other. I resolved then to place myself behind a projection of the wall, whose shadow would serve fully to conceal me, and they should have discovered the identity of the occupant of the bed, to creep noiselessly from the room, and then to trust to Providence for escape. In order to facilitate this scheme, I removed all the lumber which I had heaped against the door; and I had nearly completed my arrangements, when I perceived the room suddenly darkened by the close approach of some shadowy object to the window. On turning my eyes in that direction, I observed at the top of the casement, as if suspended from above, first the feet, then the legs, then the body, and at length the whole figure of a man present itself. It was Edward T---n. He appeared to be guiding his descent so as to bring his feet upon the centre of the stone block which occupied the lower part of the window; and having secured his footing upon this, he kneeled down and began to gaze into the room. As the moon was gleaming into the chamber, and the bed curtains were drawn, he was able to distinguish the bed itself and its contents. He appeared satisfied with his scrutiny, for he looked up and made a sign with his hand, upon which the rope by which his descent had been effected was slackened from above, and he proceeded to disengage it from his waist: this accomplished, he applied his hands to the window-frame, which must have been ingeniously contrived for the purpose, for with apparently no resistance the whole frame, containing casement and all, slipped from its position in the wall, and was by him lowered into the room. The cold night waved the bed-curtains, and he paused for a moment-all was still again—and he stepped in upon the floor of the room. He held in his hand what appeared to be a steel instrument, shaped something like a hammer, but larger and sharper at the extremities. This he held rather behind him, while, with three long tip-toe strides, he brought himself to the bedside. I felt that the discovery must now be made, and held my breath in momentary expectation of the execration in which he would vent his surprise and disappointment. I closed my eyes-there was a pause—but it was a short one. I heard two dull blows, given in rapid succession: a quivering sigh, and the long-drawn, heavy breathing of the sleeper was for ever suspended. I unclosed my eyes, and saw the murderer fling the quilt across the head of his victim: he then, with the instrument of death still in his hand, proceeded to the lobby door, upon which he tapped sharply twice or thrice-a quick step was then heard approaching, and a voice whispered something from without-Edward answered, with a kind of chuckle, "Her ladyship is past complaining; unlock the door, in the devil's name, unless you're afraid to come in, and help me to lift the body out of the window." The key was turned in the lock-the door opened -and my uncle entered the room. I have told you already that I had placed myself under the shade of a projection of the wall, close to the door. I had instinctively shrunk down cowering towards the ground on the entrance of Edward through the window. When my uncle entered the room, he and his son both stood so very close to me that his hand was every moment upon the point of touching my face. I held my breath, and remained motionless as death. was to be lost. I passed through the door, which was only closed, and moved as rapidly as I could, consistently with stillness, along the lobby. Before I had gone many yards I heard the door through which I had just passed double locked on the inside. I glided down the stairs in terror, lest, at every corner, I should meet the murderer or one of his accomplices. I reached the hall, and listened for a moment to ascertain whether all was silent around; no sound was audible; the parlour windows opened on the park, and through one of them I might, I thought, easily effect my escape. Accordingly, I hastily entered; but, to my consternation, a candle was burning in the room, and by its light I saw a figure seated at the dinner-table, upon which lay glasses, bottles, and the other "You had no interruption from the next accompaniments of a drinking party. There room?" said my uncle. "No," was the brief reply. "Secure the jewels, Ned; the French harpy must not lay her claws upon them. You're a steady hand, by G-; not much blood-eh?" "Not twenty drops," replied his son, "and those on the quilt." "I'm glad it's over," whispered my uncle again; "we must lift the the thing through the window, and lay the rubbish over it." They then turned to the bedside, and, winding the bed-clothes round the body, carried it between them slowly to the window, and, exchanging a few brief words with some one below, they shoved it over the window sill, and I heard it fall heavily on the ground underneath. "I'll take the jewels," said my uncle; "there are two caskets in the lower drawer." He proceeded, with an accuracy which, had I been more at ease, would have furnished me with matter of astonishment, to lay his hand upon the very spot where my jewels lay; and having possessed himself of them, he called to his son "Is the rope made fast above?" was no other means of escape, so I advanced with a firm step and collected mind to the window. I noiselessly withdrew the bars and unclosed the shutters-I pushed open the casement, and, without waiting to look behind me, I ran with my utmost speed, scarcely feeling the ground under me, down the avenue, taking care to keep upon the grass which bordered it. I did not for a moment slack my speed, and I had now gained the centre point between the park gate and the mansionhouse-here the avenue made a wider circuit, and in order to avoid delay, I directed my way across the smooth sward round which the pathway wound, intending, at the opposite side of the flat, at a point which I distinguished by a group of old birch trees, to enter again upon the beaten track, which was from thence tolerably direct to the gate. I had, with my utmost speed, got about half-way across this broad flat when the rapid treading of a horse's hoofs struck upon my ear. My heart swelled in my bosom, as though I would smother. The clattering of galloping hoofs approached -I was pursued-they were now upon the sward on which I was running-there was "I'm not a fool-to be sure it is," replied not a bush or a bramble to shelter me-and, he. They then lowered themselves from the window. I now rose lightly and cautiously, scarcely daring to breathe, from my place of concealment, and was creeping towards the door, when I heard my cousin's voice, in a sharp whisper, exclaim, "Scramble up again; G-d d-n you, you've forgot to lock the door;" and I perceived, by the straining of the rope which hung from above, that the mandate was instantly obeyed. Not a second as if to render escape altogether desperate, the moon, which had hitherto been obscured, at this moment shone forth with a broad clear light, which made every object distinctly visible. The sounds were now close behind me. I felt my knees bending under me, with the sensation which torments one in dreams. I reeled -I stumbled-I fell-and at the same instant the cause of my alarm wheeled past me at full gallop. It was one of the young fillies which pastured loose about the park, whose frolics had thus all but maddened me with terror. | There was trial by jury goin' on by daylight, An' the martial-law hangin' the lavings by night. I scrambled to my feet, and rushed on with With the heath for their barrack, revenge for his men. Deep and fervent as must always be my gratitude to Heaven for my deliverance, effected by a chain of providential occurrences, the failing of a single link of which must have insured my destruction, I was long before I could look back upon it with other feelings than those of bitterness, almost of agony. The only being that had ever really loved me, my nearest and dearest friend, ever ready to sympathize, to counsel, and to assist-the gayest, the gentlest, the warmest heart-the only creature on earth that cared for meher life had been the price of my deliverance; and I then uttered the wish-which no event of my long and sorrowful life has taught me to recall that she had been spared, and that in her stead I were mouldering in the grave forgotten and at rest. SHEMUS O'BRIEN. PART I. Jist after the war, in the year 'Ninety-Eight, An' the bravest an' honestest boy of thim all But his face was as pale as the face of the dead, An' for all that, he wasn't an ugly young boy, An' the women turn crazy, he did it so quare; An' it's he was the boy that was hard to be caught, But the fox must sleep sometimes, the wild deer must rest, An' treachery prey on the blood of the best: Now, Shemus! look back on the beautiful moon, Farewell to the forest, farewell to the hill, An' they read a big writin', a yard long at laste, An' farewell to the friends that will think of you An' Shemus didn't see it, nor mind it a taste. An' the judge took a big pinch of snuff, an' he says: still, Farewell to the patthern, the hurlin', an' wake, An' farewell to the girl that would die for your sake! "Are you guilty or not, Jim O'Brien, if you plaise?" An' all held their breath in the silence of dread, An' twelve sojers brought him to Maryborough An' Shemus O'Brien made answer an' said: jail, An' with irons secured him, refusin' all bail. The fleet limbs wor chained and the sthrong hands wor bound, "My lord, if you ask me if in my lifetime I thought any treason, or did any crime, An' he lay down his length on the cold prison Though I stood by the grave to receive my deathground; blow, An' the dhrames of his childhood kem over him Before God an' the world I would answer you No! there, As gentle and soft as the sweet summer air; An' he sprang to his feet in the dark prison cave, His scorn iv their vengeance one moment was lost. His bosom might bleed, but his cheek should be dhry, For undaunted he lived, and undaunted he'd die. PART II. Well, as soon as a few weeks were over an' gone, The terrible day of the trial came on; There was such a great crowd, there was scarce room to stand, An' sojers on guard, an' dragoons sword in hand; An' the court-house so full that the people were bothered, An' attorneys and criers on the point of being smothered; An' counsellors almost gave over for dead, An' they heard but the opening of one prison lock, But if you would ask me, as I think it like, An' fought for ould Ireland, from the first to the close, An' shed the heart's blood of her bitterest foes- then In her cause I was willin' my veins should run dry, An' now for her sake I am ready to die." Then the silence was great, and the jury smiled bright, An' the judge wasn't sorry the job was made light; By my soul, it's himself was the crabbed ould chap! In a twinkling he pulled on his ugly black cap. Then Shemus's mother, in the crowd standin' by, Called out to the judge with a pitiful cry: "O Judge, darlin', don't-oh! don't say the word! The crathur is young-have mercy, my lord! You don't know him, my lord; oh! don't give him to ruin! He was foolish he didn't know what he was doin'! He's the kindliest crathur, the tinderest-hearted; Don't part us for ever, we that's so long parted! Judge mavourneen, forgive him-forgive him, my lord! An' God will forgive you-oh! don't say the word!" That was the first minit O'Brien was shaken, When he saw he was not quite forgot or forsaken! An' down his pale cheek, at the word of his mother, The big tears were running, one after the other, An' two or three times he endeavoured to spake, But the strong manly voice used to falter an' break. For one minute he turned his eyes round on the But at last, by the strength of his high-mounting On the bleak trackless mountain among the wild Bang! bang! go the carbines, an' clash go the deer, sabres; To be in the grave, where the heart, head, an' He's not down! he's alive! now attend to him, breast From labour an' sorrow for ever shall rest. An' that minit the solemn death-sentence was said. PART III. The mornin' was bright, an' the mists rose on high, see? An' why does the long rope hang from the cross tree? O Shemus O'Brien, pray fervent an' fast! May the saints take your soul, for this day is your last. Pray fast an' pray strong, for the moment is nigh, When strong, proud, an' great as you are, you must die! At last they drew open the big prison gate, On, on to the gallows the sheriffs are gone, An' at every side swellin' around iv the cart, A wild sorrowful sound that would open your heart. Now under the gallows the car takes its stand, neighbours! By one shout from the people the heavens are shaken One shout that the dead of the world might awaken. Your swords they may glitter, your carbines go bang, But if you want hangin' 'tis yourselves you must hang! To-night he'll be sleepin' in Aherloe glin, An' fined like the divil, because Jim done them fairly. A week after this time, without firin' a cannon, The very next spring-a bright mornin' in May, And the hangman gets up with a rope in his hand. Say I love them as well as the devil loves holy An' the priest havin' blest him, gets down on the ground; An' Shemus O'Brien throws one look around. Then the hangman drew near, and the people grew still, Young faces turn sickly, an' warm hearts turn chill; An' the rope bein' ready, his neck was made bare, For the gripe of the life-strangling cords to prepare; water. An' now, my good mother, one word of advice- And the good priest has left him, havin' said his An' come straight across to the town of New York; An' there ask the mayor the best way to go last prayer. But the good priest did more-for his hands he To the town of Cincinnati-the state Ohio: unbound, An' there you will find me, without much tryin', An' with one daring spring Jim has leaped on the At the 'Harp an' the Eagle,' kept by Shemus O'Brien." ground! |