aged to get acquainted with this man | Dublin that it was not safe for Dilnicli and made love to his stout daughter, to venture near the Castle, and I earproposing to marry her, after which he nestly implored him to be careful how was received by the jailer and his wife he showed himself in the street. as one of the family. He never, how-to myself, I went at once to visit ever, mentioned Fincer's name, but the viceroy, who, when I was anone day he said to his future father-in-nounced, received me with marks of law that a considerable sum of money consideration. After regretting that was due to him which he feared would certain duties were imposed on him by never be paid, as his debtor had in- his fidelity to his king and to the Encurred the displeasure of the govern-glish government, he assured me that ment and had been thrown into prison. if my brother were innocent I might A little enquiry brought out the fact rely upon it he would do his best to that Fincer was this debtor, after which have him set at liberty. He declined, the jailer was easily persuaded to grant however, to hear what I wished to say Dilnich an interview with his prisoner, on his behalf, saying it was too importhat they might settle their affairs. It tant a matter to be entrusted to his ear was easy, during their conversation alone. I however obtained permission and the exchange of papers concerning to see Patrick, though only in the prestheir pretended accounts, to inform ence of a messenger of state. Fincer of the design on foot and in- Even with this condition attached to struct him how to play his part in it. the favor, I was glad to have obtained One day Dilnich, with great joy, showed it. My first step was to consult Dilthe jailer a note of hand from his pris-nich, who wished me to take my oner, in settlement of his account in brother a thousand crowns, which at full, and consulted him as to how he any moment he might find of use. might best invest the money. He said can assure you," he said, "that unless that, delighted at having got the money, your brother be indicted for high treaand very grateful to Fincer, he would son, there is not a living soul in all like to give him a little supper in his Dublin who will not, for money, do his cell that evening. The jailer con- best to set him free. I found that out sented, and he and his daughter, Dil- when I was working for Fincer. There nich's promised bride, were the guests is so little money in Ireland that Irishon the occasion. In the height of their men will do anything for a handful of gaiety Dilnich plunged a dagger into gold or silver; but then, such horrible the jailer's breast, while Fincer threat-executions have taken place to consolened his daughter with the same fate if she uttered a cry. They had intended that she should take them both to the gates, and see that they passed the guard in safety; but the poor girl fainted, and they could not bring her to her senses. Fincer took the outer garments of the dead jailer, and they passed the sentinels with more ease than they expected. Relays of horses were in waiting, and before daylight they had reached the coast. "It would be a good thing," Dilnich added, as he concluded his narration, "if your brother should prove to be confined in the same tower."

This proved to be the case, but we soon found that the particulars of Fincer's escape were so widely known in

idate the authority of the English government, that people turn pale at the very mention of high treason."

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He recommended me to write down this remark, and to hide the scrap of paper in the purse in which I should place the thousand crowns.

"But I am afraid my attendant will not let me give this purse to Patrick in his prison," said I.

"Then bribe him," said Dilnich. "A hundred pistoles1 will buy up any of these people."

I hesitated to accept this advice. My conscience revolted against bribery in the first place, and in the second, it seemed hardly fair to Sara to use her

1 A pistole was ten francs-two dollars.

money in my brother's cause, till I had | view. When I saw this I did not think ascertained what might be his senti- it would be bribery to offer him part of ments with regard to her. However, a hundred pistoles was not a large sum. I had as much as that myself. With regard to the bribery I opened my heart to Dilnich, who only laughed at my scruples and declined to argue the


I was touched by his unselfishness and his family affection.

the sum that Dilnich had advised me to bestow on him. He received it with gratitude, and then said that, as he could perceive nothing treasonable in our discourse, he would leave us to talk over our family affairs together.


"Ah, Patrick," I exclaimed, when So I went to the Castle under escort we found ourselves alone, what I of the messenger of state. Patrick was dread is your want of firmness. This greatly moved at my solicitude. "But will weaken your defence if I am not ah!" he said, "it is not for me you by to encourage you. But, ah! I know ought to be concerned. What will be- a way, if you would listen to my councome now of our sister? Who will sels, by which you could repair all our take charge of the affairs of our poor losses and misfortunes. You could George? You do not yet know," he place Rose in safety. You could accelwent on, "all the horrors of our situa-erate the liberty of George. You could tion, or you would not think of first keep me here to work in your behalf. bringing me succor. Go at once, I en- You could restore the fortunes of our treat you, to Paris, where your pres- ancient house. You could become the ence is more needed than in Dublin. glory, the support, the head of our I trust in Heaven to make clear my family a family which has no hope innocence." but in you. I am not painting an imaginary picture. I come here to offer you the means of doing this, and I im"But what," I said, "have you con-plore you to accept them." cealed from me, that should make the I looked earnestly at Patrick as I situation of George and Rose worse said all this. He seemed disturbed and than your own?" "I do not think agitated. "Show me a way," he said George's life is in danger," he replied, at last, "which I can take without loss "but now that I am laid up here and of honor." can do nothing, I will no longer disguise from you how much I fear for Rose. She is virtuous; who can doubt her virtue ? She has faced all our griefs with noble firmness, but she is now almost without money, without means of support. The duke still keeps his eyes on her; young, trustful, inexperienced, in a foreign land and unprotected-you may imagine what I dread even to speak of. The firmest virtue needs support, and how can we feel certain what may take place at any moment.'

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His words filled me with vague anxiety. "Have pity, Heaven!" I cried; "do not abandon this unhappy girl! Ah, Patrick, why did you all despise my advice, and refuse to be guided by

my counsels ?"

"Without loss of honor?" I said. "If you have any feeling for your family; if Rose's situation moves you; if you can be touched by goodness, generosity, and anxiety to serve you, you will consider what I have to say." And I told him all about Sara: "Sara, so modest," I added, "in all her acts, so tender in her feelings. If you will take the help she offers you, I can at once succor Rose. You will be head, chief, protector, benefactor, father of your family. One word, one sign from you, will make us happy.”

The emotion of Patrick was depicted on his countenance. "Have you forgotten," he said, "all I told you, only three days ago? Do you ask me to do what would unite perfidy and perjury? Ah, brother, you must be very prompt if you desire to serve Rose. Leave at once for Paris. My innocence will be

Our distress was so great that it softened the heart of the man who had been sent to be present at our inter-my best defence."

It was clear that Sara had deceived was set at liberty with apologies for my herself. She had inspired in Patrick's arrest. heart no tender feelings.

Before my visit ended I begged him seriously to think over what I had said to him, and promised that I would, if possible, see him again shortly.

On leaving the Castle I determined to send at once succor to Rose. I had enough money of my own for that purpose, without touching the sum I had received from Sara. Besides, I had life-long friends in Dublin to whom, at the worst, I could apply. But an unexpected event disturbed all my calculations.

Dilnich, trusting to his change of raiment, being now dressed as a gentleman, whereas he had been known only in Dublin in the dress of a tradesman, could not be induced by me to take necessary precautions. He had been seen in a carriage on the street by the daughter of the unfortunate man whom he had murdered. She traced him to our lodgings, then she gave information to the police. I was just asking him how I might best procure a bill of exchange on Paris, when the noise of a scuffle was heard outside our door. Judging rightly what was taking place, I had just time to hurry Dilnich out of a window which looked upon a garden, when a party of soldiers, having overcome our servants, entered the room. The officer in command told me that his orders were to arrest a trader in that house, and to take possession of everything that he might find in his lodgings. This order he considered authorized him to make me prisoner. I was accordingly arrested, and taken at once to a strong room in the Castle, while my trunks and Dilnich's were carried off to be inspected by the viceroy.

I did not think much harm could befall me, personally, from my arrest, but I was terribly anxious about Rose.

The first use I made of my freedom was to call upon the viceroy. He had been much impressed by Fincer's letter, and assured me that he would do all in his power to aid my brother's cause. Not one word was said of Dilnich who, happily for him, seemed not to be mixed up in my affairs.

Delighted with all this, I hurried back to my lodgings, to which the viceroy told me my trunks had been conveyed. I found them there, indeed, but not my money; not even the thousand crowns that I had carried in a leathern purse to the Castle the day before, and had put back into my trunk on returning to my lodgings. All had been carried off by the soldiers of the crown. In vain I returned to the Castle. In vain I appealed to the viceroy. In vain he ordered the soldiers to be placed under arrest. He was powerless to help me. The prospect of death would not have induced those wretches to give up my money.

They persisted in saying that if anything was missing it must have been taken by the viceroy ! - an impertinence which in any other country would have met with instant punishment. Such insolence could hardly be believed by any one unacquainted with the rascality and veniality of the lower class of the Irish people.

The viceroy told me that he was deeply grieved for my loss, but that he did not see how the money could be recovered. That I must blame myself for not having made a declaration as soon as I was seized, that I had such and such moneys in my trunk. even said that as I had accused his soldiers without proof, he feared that they might take some occasion to be revenged on me.


I took this as an intimation that I had better leave Dublin. I could only Things turned out as I had hoped. hope, and so I told the viceroy, that The viceroy examined our trunks, and my misfortune might prove an addifound nothing treasonable. Indeed, he tional motive for his espousing the found no paper but Fincer's letter, cause of my brother. I left his preswhich confirmed him in a belief in ence comforted by his promise, but terPatrick's innocence, and the next day Iribly unhappy, not only about George

and Rose, but about poor Sara. Her money I hoped to replace, but for the loss of her hopes who would console her?

I thought of myself, and how it would strip me of every penny I could hope to earn during my lifetime to pay back that money. What would Sara think of me if I did not? And if I succeeded in paying Sara, by turning into money all I had, and mortgaging the revenues of my benefice, what was to become of our poor Rose? Heaven alone could help her. But might she not have forfeited her claim to Heaven's help by her worldliness and her rejection of good counsel ?

I sat pondering these things with deep sorrow in my heart, when a note was handed me. It had been brought to the house by an unknown man. It was from Dilnich, as I knew at once, although it had no signature.

He knew all that had happened to me, he said. He himself was in safety, under a friend's roof. He insisted that the loss of the money was no great misfortune, and he begged me to take heart, for he had ample means to repair that loss. He was Sara's nearest relation. He had neither children nor wife. Patrick, as Sara's husband, would be his heir. He was already negotiating for the sale of a part of his estates, and with the money he received he would set right everything. The letter was full of offers of kindness and of friendship, and ended by saying that he had sent word to Sara that he was in hiding, and that I was in prison, but he had not told her of the robbery, adding, "I think you had better be equally discreet.”

With re

unwilling to share with me. spect to Sara, he would only repeat sadly that he could say nothing but what he had said already. In vain I represented that Julie would never be restored to him, that she was in charge of a father who detested him, and who would marry her to some Protestant against her will. Patrick was immovable.

The next day I received a slip of paper on which was merely written an address. I knew what it meant, and hastened to the house, where I found Dilnich. He received me with great joy, but told me, that fearing to lose the chance of selling his land to advantage, he had already concluded his bargain, and that very day, having his money in hand, he had contrived to see the presiding judge of the court appointed to try charges of treason, before which Patrick would have to appear.

He had represented himself as a gentleman belonging to our family. He had ascertained that the imprisonment of Patrick might be long before his case was disposed of; and, seeing this, he had said to the judge that being aware that everything would depend upon his favor, and since all he asked was that his relative might soon be tried, there could be no reason that his Honor should feel delicacy in accepting a thousand pistoles from Patrick, in acknowledgment of his goodness in accelerating his restoration to liberty.

So the bargain was concluded. The money was paid at once, with the understanding that no offence being proved against Patrick, he was to be set at liberty before the end of the month.

"I am delighted to tell you this," said Dilnich, "and you must make it known to Patrick as soon as possible."

"Oh, you did wrong,' "I cried, "to go so far without consulting me."

Alas, his generous offer of assistance only caused me further embarrassment. I answered at once that I begged him not to do anything about the sale of his property till he had seen me. Before the day ended I paid another visit to Patrick. We discussed together the "Ah, be easy," replied Dilnich. situation of poor Rose. I learned all "Sara is my heiress, and I know she he would tell me about her; but I will be grateful to me for the service I fancied I could see that he was keep-have rendered her."

ing something back. Some anxiety Leaving Dilnich as soon as possible, weighed upon his mind which he was I hurried to the Castle. There I had

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this. He received my communication in silence, and with deep sighs.

to wait some time for the messenger of state. Every moment of delay seemed to me a loss of honor for Patrick, for The next day came papers setting myself, for all who were dear to me. Patrick at liberty, and offering him "This is no time to think of senti- apologies for the mistake of his imprisment," I said to Patrick the moment I onment. This courtesy was due to the saw him. "I must speak plainly. viceroy's desire to keep well with the You must think only of your honor." families of leading Irish noblemen. I Thereupon I recapitulated all that had received the news with transports of been done for him by Sara and her joy. As soon as I had been assured of family. "You are no longer free to the certainty of his return, I hastened choose,” I said. "You may complain to Patrick. Even the hope of freedom that your fate is hard, but it is no could not rouse him from his melanlonger possible to cause shame and dis- choly. "I have no heart to give to appointment to Sara, after all that she Sara Fincer," he sighed, as I reiterhas done for you. You cannot aban-ated the necessity he was under of don Rose without ruining our family responding to the hopes that had been honor."

He listened to me with the air of one who is receiving sentence of death. Then he said: "I know Sara Fincer; I acknowledge her to be charming; I am grateful for her benefits, but she has no right to claim what, had the choice been offered me, I never would have given her."

I pleaded that time can efface the memory of an early love, and that marriage would soon teach him to love one so charming and so amiable as Sara.

That day I prevailed nothing.

Very soon the examination of Patrick took place. He won the consideration of the court by the frankness and the directness with which he answered every question put to him. Dilnich saw the chief justice. I visited the viceroy. We felt sure that Patrick's restoration to liberty was at hand.

But he did not seem to share our joy. The obligations he was under to Sara and her cousin hung about him like a chain.

raised in her. I answered that Sara, if he could not give her all his love, would gladly accept all he could offer her, and I informed him that I had made all my arrangements for their immediate marriage as soon as he should be out of prison. The ceremonies of the Catholic Church were by law obliged to be performed very quietly in Ireland; and by such a wedding as I proposed, I said we should be saved expense and other difficulties.

Having wrung from Patrick his acquiescence rather than his consent, I went home to my lodgings, and there found a letter which had been forwarded to me from Killerine. It was in the handwriting of Rose. I opened it with feelings of great satisfaction. Alas! its first words told me that all had gone wrong.

The superior of the convent, a few days after Patrick's departure, began to feel anxious lest Rose's board should not be paid, and told her frankly that the couvent could not afford the expense of keeping guests who had no money. Rose gave her nearly all the little she had, and left the convent, determined to support her waiting-maid and herself by needlework, for she was very skilful at embroidery.

It was at this moment that Sara unexpectedly made her appearance in Dublin. Alarmed by what she had heard from Dilnich, believing me in a dungeon, and Patrick friendless in prison, she had come prepared to do She might have lived peaceably in her best for both of us. Her arrival very humble lodgings had not the duke, filled me with consternation and em- her persecutor, discovered her. barrassment. And she was so happy gained over her landlord. He rein the thought that she had contributed newed his offers of protection. He to set Patrick free! I told Patrick was repulsed in every way, but perse


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