Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 106 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

a - ~~! eS ee —E Shamus O’Brien. salmon until the time is ripe to land him in an | flogged man had been hurried out of the glen English jail.” O’Glory was completely puzzled. It was evident that it was not Shamus O’Brien who spoke this time unless he possessed the faculty never yet owned by mortal man, of speaking in two different voices at the same time. “Well, Mr. O’Glory, are you Satisfied now that this little trick is not done by the aid of ventriloquism?” Shamus asked, quietly enjoy- ing the discomfiture of the lawyer. ‘This bangs Bannagher!” O’Glory admitted. ** Your thrick is too much for me, and I give it up. But, I am not satisfied that it is as this voice says; I am not satisfied that Burke doesn’t mane to keep faith wid me.” ‘‘T told you before, O’Glory, it is an honest voice and you can trust it; but, to convince you, I will ask why the captain is doubted.” “Do; that is phat I want, upon me sowl. I lay fair wid me if he knows phat is good for imself,” O’Glory muttered, in a very discon- tented var ‘* Why do you think that the captain intends to break h s word and prove false to his bargain in this matter?” O’Brien demanded, again ad- dressing the wall as before, and then, as before, he commenced to hum an air which was if any- thing even more distasteful to O’Glory’s ears, as a stanch partisan of England, than the song of the Shan Van Vaigh—namely the lay of *‘ Wearing of the Green ”’: ‘‘ Oh, Paddy dear, and did you hear the news that’s going round? The pnosec’ ad is forbid by law to grow on Irish und. St. Petrick's day no more to keep, its color can’t be seen For there’s a bloody law ag’in’ the wearing of the green. I mah en Napper Tandy and he tuck me by the and, How is poor ould Ireland, how does she stand? Oh, she's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen, They're hanging men and women there for wearing of the green.”’ ‘The captain will l’ave O’Brien go free from O’Neal Hall so that he will be able to finger the ten thousand pounds, do ye mind!” said the voice. ‘‘But to be free of O’Neal Hall is not to be safe in the hills, by a jugful! Burke has gint to Galway for troops and they are pouring into Connemara as fast as hoss and man can be sint forward. All the cross-roads leading to the hills will be picketed by men on foot and on boss, so that if Shamus misses a sodger he’ll meet adragoon. Captain Burke l’aves him go free so that he can take his ten thousand pounds, but he feels mighty sartin that O’Brien will be taken mea he gets a mile away, the dhirty blaggar 6 Paar word, Mister Shamus O’Brien, you are better served than I thought you was!” The old lawyer’s astonishment proved his own honesty of purpose, at least. ‘You see, Maggie dear, that you would be -only throwing away your money to make any bar ed to the girl. : toaliow me as aantee, although I have no doubt in with Desmond Burke,” O’Brien ob- ‘*He hates me too bitterly that he is very much in want of money, and the ‘temptation is extremely strong, but by this cunning device of his he hopes both to grasp the money, and then to be enabled to deliver me a prisoner at Dublin Castle.” ” h, Shamus, you are DOE Nga What can ve you?” the girl moaned. pa question was not addressed to the “‘spirit” of the wall, but the sharp ears of the sibyl gathered it in. ‘‘God and Ireland, through the brave min who are willing to give blood an’ life for the ould sod!” was the startling response. ‘*Be me sowl, your prophet will be hanged for treason wan df these days,” was O’Glory’s warning. Oe. was an affecting parting between the lovers, for, although husband and wife, yet they had enjoyed but little of each other’s com- pany, and seemed more like en he about whose union there was considerable doubt, than a married pair of over a year’s standing, and so the interview terminated. Maggie retired to her room to pray for the man she loved, while O’Glory hurried off to find the captain, in order to reproach him for having so effectually spoiled as pretty a plan as ever was concocted. CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CURSE OF IRELAND. Sarrners, of course, had been an eye-witness of the punishment inflicted upon the unfor- tunate process-server, and although he reall itied the fellow when he saw how well his acket was being dusted by the blackthora sticks of the Bould Boys of the Mountain, yet he could not help confessing to himself that the culprit really got but little more than he deserved, for the lieutenant was not ignorant of the many petty acts of pedro the process-ser- ver had been guilty of executing upon the un- fortunate vietims whom a cruel fate flung in his 8 ee eee Sas the disguised Irishman, who acted as the chie of the party, approached Smithers. “That is the way we deal wid the dhirty hounds who forget that they are Irishmen and stcop to do the filthy work of the oppressor!” he declared, in menacing tones. The lieutenant, though, was not in the least alarmed, although a prisoner and apparently helplessin the hands of these wildmen. He was not an Irishman but a Briton: he wore, too, Her Majesty’s uniform, and he did not believe that the outlaws, desperate as they might be, would dare to bring down upon their heads the wrath of England by attempting actual violence against his person, although they had ventured to kidnap him. ““Itisa long lane that has no turning, you know,” Smithersanswered, complacently. ‘‘ It _is your innings to-night, but that fellow will do tell ye, Captain Desmond Burke had better his best to square the account the very first chance he gets.” ‘*He may thank his lucky stars that we didn’t riddle him wid bullets!” returned the lrishman savagely. ‘‘And we would, too; we would have settled the account for good and all if we hadn’t wanted him to carry a message to Des- mond Burke.” ‘“My good fellow, you will only have your labor for your pains,” Smithers replied. © ‘‘ It isn’t of the least bit of use for you to try this he | | i sort of thing, you know. Burke will never have it. And he couldn’t, you know, if he would, be- cause really, you know, he hasn’t got the least bit of a sayin the matter. O’Brien is in his hands, of course, but that is a mere matter of form; heonly represents a superior authority; he couldm’t let him go, you know. There isn’t anybody that can let him go. He is in the hands of the law, and he must be tried. He is tied up with a knot that no Alexander can cut with a sword, and so this sort of thing that you have played on me to-night is all rubbish, you know; it won’t do you the least bit of good, nor help O’Brien at all.” ‘‘Burke can contrive it so that O’Brien can slip through his fingers if he wants to; there is more than wan way to kill a cat, ouw’re a friend of Burke, and when he hears that we have got you tight and fast, it will be mighty odd if he don’t move heaven and earth to save ou. “It isno use, my boy, you know; and I don’t really believe that he would if he could. I am one of Her Majesty’s officers and he would never bring himself to believe that you would dare to harm me.” A sullen murmur went up from the listeners at this cool speech, which plainly showed that they did not relish either the manner nor the matter of the lieutenant’s remarks. “TI think that we have showed by phat we have done to-night pretty well phat we dare do; our blood is up, and we have got the bit be- tween our teeth—” ‘* And, like a runaway horse, to carry out the simile,” added the lieutenant, ‘‘ you will all rush blindly to destruction.” ‘*Faix! we might as well die bucking ag’in’ the sodgers, as to be turned out of our cabins and starve to death!” the Irish leader retorted, sullenly. “True for yees!” exclaimed a single voice from amid the crowd, and then the rest took up the cry. , ‘Death by the sodger’s bagonet and saber rather than starve!” Smithers shrugged hisshoulders. He compre- hended that it was merely a waste of breath to attempt to reason with such men. *T tell ye we are desperate,” the Irish leader continued, ‘“‘and we maneiischief, The worum has turned at last, and now let the heel that has trampled on him look out for itself. If ye think that bekase ye wear a red coat we don’t dare to harum Pe ye nivir made a greater mistake in our life, and we tell ye, frank and aisy, thatif ’Brien is sent to Dublin there will be a va- cancy in your compas My ** A chance for a lentenauick, eh?” and Smith- ers never changed countenance in the least. ‘* Begob! ye’ve hit it, exactly!” ‘* Well, there’s anny a slip Sah ian the cup and the lip, and I would be willing to bet a trifle at good odds that you won’t carry out your plans to the extent that you think.” ‘* We'll all know before we are many hours older, but ye can depind upon wan thing—your life hangs on Shamus O’Brien’s!” Then the outlaw turned away and entered into conversation with the rest of the band. The future movements of the was de- bated, but in a tone so low that the purport of the conversation did not reach the lieutenant’s ears. Smithers did not trouble himself much to at- tempt to overhear, for he judged, and rightly, that the conversation little reference to himself, After the talk was ended Smithers was again blindfolded and conducted away. The lieutenant went without demur, as he mentally remarked. his captors had such deuced taking ways with them that it was no use to re- way, sist. ‘After the punishment was eompleted andthe ' A short distance from the glen was quite an e / —_— ee — eee rr LLL ETT TT TTT TT TTT TT Lee 19 extensive cave, a natural formation, not unfre- pe in the mountainous parts of Ireland. he mouth of this cave was concealed by bushes and overhanging trees, so thata stranger, not acquainted with the spot, would not have been apt to discover the existence of the place even if he had been warned that it was near at hand. In this cave the lieutenant was placed, and the bandage was removed from his eyes. A rude sort of bed had been constructed in one corner, and upon this Smithers was placed. ‘* Better make your pee wid Heaven,” the Irish leader advised, ‘‘ bekase if Captain Burke won’t listen to r’ason, upon me sowl ye’re not long for this wurld!”’ And after this not particularly consoling ob- servation the disguised men tramped out of the cave. A gleam of hope came up in the heart of the lieutenant. He was all alone in the dark, and although his hands were a bound, he nothing doubted but that he would be able to unloose the bonds in some way. Smithers rather prided himself upon his fine white teeth, and for once in his life those useful ivories seemed likely to play an extremely conspicuous ‘erie ut after the hands were free, what then? He was unarmed; there was a sentinel, doubt- less, without the cave, and most certainly that sen would not be weaponless. Smithers, though, had already discovered that some good hard sticks had been used in the formation of the bed, and he felt sure that if he succeeded in freeing his hands he could use a cudgel to fight his way to liberty as well as any Irishman that ever swung a blackthorn. The lieutenant was in no hurry; he allowed ponty of time for the party to depart. Then, too, he reasoned that if he kept as still as a mouse, and so deceived the sentinel upon the outside into the belief that he had gone to sleep, it would be all the better for his purpose. And so, for a good hour Smithers hardly stirred; not a sound could he hear except his own loud breathing, which seemed to reécho through the cavern. ‘It’s a deuced unpleasant situation, and I suppose that I shall have a beastly time in get- ting out of it,” the Englishman muttered, as he rose to a sitting posture, raised his arms and ap- ep his teeth to the difficult task of undoing e knots. But, no sooner had he commenced operations than he was most disagreeably rised. A hoarse voice sounded through the dark- ness. ‘Phat are yees about there? Phatis ye do be afther doin’?”’ There was a sentinel in the very cave itself! Smithers was terribly disappointed and cor- respondingly disgusted. It was clear that with a =e in the cave his little game would not wor “Hallo, is there any one here?’ he called, ro able to conceal the annoyance which he € “No wan but meself, Paddy Doolin, but don’t be afther moving aboutso, do ye mind! The captain’s orders were that if you thried to get up for to put a couple of slugs into yer.” ‘“* Don’t be in a hurry to execute that order, I beg!” Smithers adjured. He was, in truth, a trifle uneasy, for such a blundering fellow as his sentry might blaze away at him upon the slightest provocation. ‘I was only changing my pea a he added. ‘Don’t do it ag’in, or if ye do, doit aisy, an’ thin ye won’t skeer me. Isay, Mister Leften- ant, how much does it cost a bye to get across the say to Amerika?” A long breath came from Smithers’s lips; new ne came into his mind, for he saw a motive in the question. When has Ireland ever struck for liberty without being cursed by a traitor in the camp? And this man—was he a weak vessel to bought by’gold? CHAPTER XXTX. A BARGAIN. SMITHERS hadn’t the least idea in the world of course what kind of a fellow the sentinel was, but from his rude, coarse voice, he had jumped at once to the conclusion that he was a fair sample of the average t, and so could be easily bought, altho it was plain that the men who had placed the fellow to guard him had a different opinion. Good reason, too, had the Bold Boys of the Mountain to believe that Doolin was stanch to the backbone—that is, if words went for any- thing for the sentinel was a man of the loud- mouthed order, and many a time had sworn that, as he had no ties to bind him to earth, he was ready and willing at a moment’s notice to la cen, his _— for = ar aig u is not your in ustering that makes the steadfast fight.” 43 The united Irishmen would have pinned their lives on Paddy Doolin’s truth, and that was why he had been intrusted with the important teal of guarding the prisoner. ‘‘How much does it cost to get across the sea?” observed the lieutenant, reflectively, wishing all the time that there was a light in the cave so that he might be able to see what IJOO co mic cS)