Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 106 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

ee eee ee ee ee ‘*Upon my word! am not. I never was in _ more sober, serious earnest in all my life!” the Englishman protested. ‘‘ You doubt me; I know that it is deuced sudden, but that is just the sort of odd fish that am, youknow. After we get married, you know, you'll get a great deal better acquainted with me; and, upon my word, I assure you, you'll find me to be adeuced nice fellow.” By this time the girl began to believe that the lieutenant really was in earnest, and al- though she was extremely flattered by the honor yet she could not refrain from laughing at the extremely odd wooing. ‘Oh, sir, you have taken me so entirely by surprise!” she demurred. ‘*OF course, | know it is sudden, but that is the kind of fellow [ am, you know. I never do «anything like anybody else, never did, you know, in all my life. But if you don’t believe me, send for the priest and we will be married at once. ‘*Send for the priest now!” cried Kitty, in some alarm. ‘* Yes, just as soon as you like. Oh, I mean whatI say. Fetch the priest and I will make you Mrs. Smithers before you are an hour older!” The lieutenant was in earnest with a vengeance. ‘**Oh, it is altogether too sudden.” ‘Well, it ¢s rather so, I suppose, but when two people make up their minds, you know, the sooner they get out of their misery the better.” ‘* But [ haven’t®@made up my mind yet!” averred the Goose-girl, archly. ** Yes, but you will make it up—soon, too, of course.” The officer was so self-assured he couldn’t think a refusal among the things pos- sible. ‘* Well, I don’t know,” Kitty responded; ‘‘I ought to have more time to think the matter over. There’s two or three boys that are com- mg after me.” ‘Oh, you don’t want any of them!” and Smithers’s face expressed disgust. ‘Ill make a lady out of you, Miss Sheelan.” ‘* But I’m not used to being a lady.” ** You will get used to it, very soon,” he as- sured. ‘‘I tel Pat what it is, Kitty, you will not be the first lrish girl who has jumped at a bound from pigs and praties to silks and dia- monds.” ‘* But, suppose that I don’t care anything about you? ‘Oh, 1 flatter myself, you know, that my vare and attention will make you love me, in time. I am willing to risk that if you will only say the word!” t was very flattering to the vanity of the girl to be sought after in this fashion, for she a managed to get along, and in the future cine Pepper couldn’t promise much, situated as @ was, ) Then all of a sudden there came to the girla remembrance of the scene in which she had played so prominent a part. **Oh, I forgot; l am already married!” she announced, in considerable confusion. ‘** Ob, yes, one does forget those little things, once in a while,” the lieutenant observed. ‘** But, my dear Miss Sheelan, I understand all that, and so does everybody else. That charm- ing action of yours—that delightful fiction did not deceive any one; we all knew that you were swerving from the truth for the laudable peepee of sereening Miss Moore, or Mrs. Brien as [ presume she is, in reality. Every- body understood that, and I believe that that noble action on your part was the first thing to cause the sentiment of love to take possession of this manly bosom of mine. It was really noble—superb! In fact, it is really hard to find words to express the admiration that I feel at such a generous deed, but it did not work as you expected ; the truth was altogether too ap- rent.” ‘* And in spite of everything you are ready to make me your wife?” ‘* My dear Miss Kitty, trot out the holy father as soon as you please!” was Smithers’s sturdy answer. The girl laughed at the perfect sangfroid of the Englishman. ‘““l’m real sorry, but I cannot accept,” she said, slowly. i The deuce you say! Not accept? Impos- sible! ‘* | have given my word to another.” ‘Oh, never mind that; tell him to go to the deuce, or let me know who it is and I will quickly make him resign all pretensions or else my name is not Smithers, I’m a deuced ob stinate fellow when I get a-going!” ‘¢ Tt is impossible!” Kitty persisted. And at this point the interview was rudely interrupted. The door was flung violently open and eight or ten men with carters’ frocks drawn over their clothes, and their faces either black- ened or covered with crape, rushed into the room and surrounded Smithers. CHAPTER XX. A NEW MOVE. Nor theslightest warning had been given of ‘his attack, and so had the operation peen performed that i | i ' Shamus O’Brien. the lieutenant received of danger was when the | disguised men gathered around, flourishing _ their weapons, so quickly did the assailants ] move, i Smithers, too, was sitting with his back to. the door, so that the surprise was complete. ‘* Silence!” cried a brawny fellow, evidently the leader of the party, covering the person of | the girl with a double-barreled shot-gun, which he held ready cocked in his hands,in an ex- tremely menacing manner; ‘‘ don’t be afther | scr’aming—don’t utter a sound above a whis- | per, or it will be the worse for yees.” It needed no ghost to come from the grave to tell the lieutevant into whose hands he had | | why his ignorance in regard to O’Brien should fafilen. For years and years the Emerald Isle has been noted for its bands of disguised and armed men, made desperate by their situation, or out- lawed for their crimes. Under a dozen titles have these secret bands been known, White Boys, Ribbonmen, Molly Maguires, and Peep-o’-Day Boys. One and all the same; desperate peasant, ren- dered reckless and careless of all consequences by real or fancied wrongs, and striving to ob- tain either redress or revenge by means of vio- | lence’s wild, red and ruthless hands. Ignorant, foolish patriots sometimes, led on | by leaders, as simple as themselves, who dream- ed that Ireland could be freed from English rule by means of these scattered, unconcerted ‘‘risings,” or else relatives banded together to avenge, by means of a fearful, bloody and gen- erally cowardly crime, some wrong which had been inflicted upon one of their number by some hard-hearted landlord or unscrupulous middleman or agent. ee es ee ee ** Where is he now?” ‘‘In O'Neal Hall.” ‘**As a guest?” “Well, no, not exactly,” Smithers admitted, somewhat embarrassed. ‘*Phat thin?’ The lieutenant felt decidedly uncomfortable under this cross-examination. ‘* Well, I presume—of course—that he is a prisoner.” ‘‘ An’ phat will they do wid im?’ ‘*Upon my word, I don’t knew!” ‘*’'m sorry for that,” the disguised leader re- marked, much to Smithers’s amazement, who couldn’t for the life of him perceive any reason be a cause of sorrow to the other. ‘‘Yis, sur, I am very sorry for that,” the Irishman repeated, with a shake of the head. ‘My dear sir, I trust that you will excuse my curiosity, but I can’t nelp it—I was born that way, you know, if I ask you why you should be sorry, under the circumstances?’ ‘‘ Tt would make your mind ’asier, that’s all.” ‘‘Make my mind easier!” and Smithers stared. ‘* Yis, if you only knew phat they would be afther doing wid Shamus O’Brien.” ‘‘My esteemed, although unknown friend, will you allow me to remark that I cannot see what earthly difference it can possibly make to me, whether I know what is to be done with Mr. Shamus O'Brien or not? I assure you, a my word of honor as a gentleman and a scholar, I don’t care two farthings about the matter, either one way or the other.” ‘‘Mebbe you will, in time,” the other re- marked, in a very meaving sort of way, which And then, again, brutal, blood-stained ruf- | fians adopted the disguise originally assumed by the ardent patriots, or by the family aven- gers, to cover deeds of rapine and cruelty. But, the moment the English lieutenant looked upon the men who had entered the house so abruptly, he understood into whose hands he had fallen. The Government long ago had had secret in- | formation that a well-organized league existed IT suppose in Connemara, bound together by fearful oaths | to do anything calculated to advance the ‘* cause,” the object of which was the freedom of Ireland. This secret order was reported to | be organized with far greater skill than any similar one that had ever existed in the green isle, for the leaders believed in working by se- cret cunning as well as by open force. Eng- had the effect of making the lieutenant stare again. wes Well, perhaps I may, but I trust that you will excuse me if I doubt it!” retorted Smith- ers, nettled that he dould not guess the riddle. ‘‘Shamus O’Brien has been put down in the cells under O’Neal Hall, I believe?” ‘* Yes, I believe so.” *¢ An’ it’s hanging him they’ll be pretty soon, 7? ‘‘Well, I don’t know about that, although I resume that he will be tried for his life, and if 1e is fourd guilty, the probabilities are that he will be hanged.’ ‘“Tt’s a lie! he is not guilty!” cried the Irish- ' man, fiercely. land could be annoyed and hampered as well in | the political field, and witb far more certainty of success attending the effort, as by an open, warlike rising. The leaders of the movement were shrewd men; they did not hope to free Ireland entirely from the rule of the hated ‘‘ Saxon,” but they did hope to abolish existing laws and customs which pressed heavily upon the natives ‘‘ to the manor born.” ‘* And you, sur!” continued the masked man, addressing himself to the lieutenant, ‘‘ don’t be afther letting a cry out of you, or else we shall be obligated to give the officer next to youa chance for promotion, do ye mind? Smithers understood the meaning of the threat perfectly well, although it was couched | in rather ambiguous language, but it did not seem to affect him in the least; he appeared as cooland unconcerned as though he was at home in his own barracks. ‘* Allright, my boy!” he answered. ‘I un- derstand; I surrender at discretion. You fel- lows have got me this time, in a beastly way. lam unarmed: I don’t believe that | have even got a penknife on me, so of course I submit like a lamb to the slaughter. You’re deuced lucky, too, for I’ve got nearly twenty pounds in my pocket.’ ‘* You thafe of an Englishman, do ye think that we would be afther taking your dirty money?” roared the leader, in a rage. “Why, of course!” Smithers replied, aston- ished; ‘‘isn’t that what you are after—isn’t that the little game—spoiling the Egyptians?” * No, sur! we’d scorn to touch a penny of it!” ‘* Yes,” spoke up another one of tbe band, evidently aman well in years by the sound of his voice, ‘‘ we would scorn to take your money, although there’s many of us here with wives and childers that have barely tasted bite or sup this day; but we are not robbers, but dacent min that ye and the likes of yees have forced to become rapparees bekase we can only meet force wid force.” Smithers appeared a little ill at ease; the matter was evidently far more serious than he had supposed, These men were not robbers— paltry, petty thieves who had taken him un- awares so as to be able to help themselves to his valuables, but good United Jrishmen, who were striking at him on account of the uniform that he wore. ‘* Well, if you don’t want my money—if you ‘| do no not mean to rob me, what is the meaning | , with just ar) O’Brien is in, and that we nave made up our of this sort of thing, eh?’ he asked little bit of anxiety perceptible in 11s tone, Smithers looked annoyed. He was not the _kind of man to submit to be told that he lied with calmness, but under the circumstances the Irishman had decidedly the advantage in the _ argument. j i ' i Se a — | ‘*] did not say that he was, you know!” the lieutenant placated; ‘“‘and I say, my friend, it isn’t polite to tell a man that he lies right to his face, you know, particularly under such cir- cumstances as exist at present. My bands are tied now, you know, so to speak, and if they wasn’t, and you told me I lied I would knock you down, you know,” ‘‘Mebbe ye can’t spell the word able!” the Irishman suggested, contemptuously. ‘*Oh, as to that, you know, that is easily test- ed. Suppose you come outside, lay aside your gun, and in about two minutes we'll find out.” ‘‘Pve other fish to fry!” was the only re- sponse to this challenge. And it was lucky for him that he did not ac- cept Smithers’s invitation, for the lieutenant, despite his peculiar oddities, was an athlete in every sense of the word; he had pulled en oar in the dark-blue crew; he was reputed to be one of the finest amateur boxers in England. and there is very little doubt that, despite the Trisb- man’s superior size and weight, if he bad gone out and made the, trial Smithers would bave polished him off handsomely and with very lit- tle trouble. ‘Vis, sur, I have other fish to fry,” continued the disguised leader, ‘and I’ll not be afther bothering meself wid the likes of ye. So you don’t know phat they are going to do wid Shamus O’Brien, but you do know that be’s in re he is going to be tried, and that he is ikely to be hung.” RL 4 j ‘‘He may escape with his life, but that is about all.” ‘‘ Desmond Burke hovlds him ; be hasn’t turn- ed him over to the Government yit?” ‘‘ He cannot very well at present—not until he gets a strong force together so as to send him under guard, for the captain has an idea that some fellows of your kidney might try 4 rescue on the road if the prisoner was not strongly guarded,” ‘‘ Faith! he’s right there!” the Irishman con- fessed, ‘‘ but that is not the only game that we can play. Captain Burke is a big friend of yours?” . * Yes, I suppose so; tolerably friendly, you ow. ‘“An’ he'll be afther feeling bad whin he hears that you are in our hands—that we have shut you up in a cave worse than the cell that minds to hang ye to the nearest tree the day ‘‘ShamusO’ Brien!” responded the big, brawny | en the troopers come into the district to take fellow, gravely, sy dim the firstintimetion' ‘Yes, J know; what of him?” ~ : ” cae | "Brien away,” . The trath ‘vas out, at last. The United Irish- oe * EComrebooks com