The Argosy — page 243: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

2.20 Faithful unto Death. exceedingly pretty, bright, and pleasant girl. She was engaged to a son of a neighbouring farmer, one Tim Doolan, of whom she prattled to me on the least encouragement. He was rather above her in position, but Nelly was so pleasant and pretty that his father and mother had not the heart to put a veto on the match, and only made it a condition that she should try to save a little money in service before they set up housekeeping together. Besides these two women servants, my husband’s soldier-servant was employed about the house, but the cottage was so small that there was no bed-room for him, and he had to sleep in an outhouse. He was a stolid Englishman with little in common with the Irish people about him. It was a disagreeable time for soldiers in Ireland then, for they were often called upon to assist the civil police at evictions, or in dis- persing some traitorous or seditious meeting. Much as my husband disliked this kind of work it had to be done. Unfortunately, one day when his company was helping the police in evicting a small farmer who would not pay any rent, he was called upon by the magistrate to fire on the crowd. One volley was quite enough to disperse them, but that one volley had severely wounded one of the foremost men among the assembled land-leaguers. This man, Pat Henessy by name, was so seriously hurt that he was believed by his companions to have been killed, and the man who picked him up, before carrying him away, turned to my husband and with a threatening look and gesture, said: ‘‘ The year won’t be out till yell rue this day’s work.” I did not of course hear this at the time, but subsequent events recalled the matter to Hugh’s mind and he then told me about it. For another month our life went on uneventfully, and then my husband received orders to march the greater part of his company to a place some ten miles away. ‘This would involve his remaining out all night; he could not hope to return before the following after- noon. It was our first separation, and though I tried to make light of it, I could not get over a sense of impending trouble. I was horribly afraid, though I knew not of what. But I did my best to hide all sign of alarm from my husband, and laughed at the idea of feeling nervous. I made the best of it, and Hugh started off early in the afternoon. I kept my tears back until he had left the house, and then broke down; but soon rallying myself for being so foolish, I called Nelly to come out with me for a little into the garden. We stood on the slope of the hill, looking down on the village, less than a mile away. In this lonely place it was some comfort to think that there were some English soldiers left in the barracks. Between us and the village rushed the little river, now in full flood, for there had been heavy rains that autumn. A little pathway, hardly more than a sheep track, led direct from Myrtle Cottage into CONNICOOOKS.C©