Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 106 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

a---—--- lle ee eS ee The heart of the lawyer sunk within him, and what little courage he had possessed fled on the in- stant. ‘‘For the love of Heaven, byes, think phat ye are about; ye will be all hanged for this!” he screamed, in mortal terror. ‘‘ Ye can’t fight the Government; ye will be crushed in the long run!”’ ‘*But it is our innings to-night, and we mane to make hay while the sun shines! Will ye give a Shamus O’Brien, or will ye make us tear O’N Hall apart stone from stone?” “Ye’re mad—ye're all mad!” O’Glory yelled; “Captain Burke is here wid his men, a rigiment and their guns are loaded with balls, and they will use thim, too—and there’s more oy coming up; there'll be a thousand min here in an hour!” ““Oh, to the divil I pitch ver lies, O’Glory, you scut!’’ the Irishman cried. We know how many min Burke has got—tin all told—a mouthful for us, and we know that he has sint for more sodgers to come up; we know it well, for we have captured ev messenger that he has sint; trot em out, byes, an show the quality that we mane business and hould their lives in the hollow of our hands.” And, sure enough—the soldiers were produced, all captured, all bound and helpless prisoners. The at- tacking party had played their cards with extreme shrewdness; no reénforcement could come that night to the relief of the besieged in O’Neal Hall. CHAPTER XXXV. SHAMUS TO THE FORE, For a moment the silence and coldness of death seemed to rest upon the heart of ay A one who stood upon the balcony, as they looked down upon the greensward and beheld the scarlet uniforms of the captured soldiers resplendent in the moonlight. For once in his life Burke realized that he had made a great blunder. If he had chosen peasants for his messengers, men who could be trusted, for instance, like the process-server, Dooney MacDar- row, the chances were that they, knowing the coun- try well, would have been able to get through, but the troopers had fallen an easy prey to the peasants. The first to creak the silence was O’Glory, who, at this new turn of affairs, was almost distracted. Ut- ter ruin awaited O’Neal Hall now, it was plain. In his despair he made one last effort. ‘*Oh, captain, dear, they have ye they have yees! phat is the use of kic ng ag’in’ the pricks? It’s = both law and cone: ou’re bate —clane bate; lave the man go, and thank Heaven to be rid of him!”’ Mrs. O’Glory at once added her voice to her spouse’s, ‘**Oh, captain, darlint, think of the illigant furni- ture, and don’t l’ave these murthering rapscallions make ducks and drakes out of it!” But upon the stern face of Burke there were no signs of yielding. Never, with his life, would he sur- render the man he hated. ‘Oh, lieutenant!’’ whined O’Glory, in despair, per- ceiving that the captain was likely to prove inflexi- ble, “‘ won’t you say a wourd? We'll all be kilt in could blood—”’ ‘44nd the illigant furniture,” put in the lawyer's ou see that better-half; “‘think of the illigant furniture, and l’ave the man go!” ‘*By Jove! I wouldn't!’ Smithers replied, obsti- nately, setting his teeth together. ‘I would hold out while a ian remained to fire a musket or strike a blow!” The bull-dog blood of the old Anglo-Saxon line still flowed in the veins of the speaker, although to look at him and listen to his vee talk, one would im- ne that but little of the old-time dogged English pluck resided in his rather effeminate-loo frame. “No, Mr. O’Glory, I will meget ow Id up O’Brien while one stone of this house remains upon another, or there is a single man left to back me in the fight!’’ Burke exclaimed, decidedly. A subdued sort of howl came from the lips of the owners of the old Hall at this declaration, and right lustily, in their secret hearts, they cursed England and everything appertaining to Albion. “* And these fellows evidently intend to carry out their threats; so there is a prospect of a particular- ly lively fight,”’ Burke continued. “If you will take my advice, you will get out oe the house, and out of harm’s way, aS soon as ” ** Faith, and I will!” O'Glory responded, in despe- ration, and he immediately retreated from the balco- ny, followed by his wife, who was giving vent to a series of short howls that were ridiculous in the ex- treme. ‘They would only be in the way and impede our efforts,’ Burke declared to Smithers, when the two retired. in patience to observe The envoy had been wai - captured soldiers the . which the sight o would uce. After being marched up and down for a few mo- ments, the soldiers were again escorted to the rear. “Phat do yees be afther thinking of the likes of that, me fine bucks?” the insurgent chief inquired. ‘Did ye a thim? poet isn’t wan miss mg; we took good care o ‘And such good care, my fine fellow, that I am afraid you will have to answer in the felon’s dock for this some day,” Burke warned. “Ye hav’n't got me yit,” the other returned, de- flantly. ‘* At prisent the ‘boot is on the other leg. It is we that have yees; ina trap, too, as nate and as cute as the head of man can devise!” ‘‘That remains to be seen; we may be in a trap, but I can tell you that some of you fellows will get hurt if you attempt to take us out!’’ exclaimed Burke, equally defiant. *T will give you wan last chance, and be the blame of your blood upon your own heads if you re- ae Fair and aisy - tet we want Mister us ‘Brien if you pl’ase!”’ “Fair and pany now!’ returned Desmond Burke, mockingly, ‘‘ ye can’t have him!” “ iad a will ge hanged first and then I won’t!”’ ‘*T do--I willsee you won’ “Yer blood on ver own head, mind, for it is com- ing to take him we are.”’ And your blood on your heads, mind, for I in- tend to defend this house while there’s a breath left ory nabeitants kn rfectly well that when e ew ec Burke said he would defend the Hall to the last ex- tremity, he meant it, every word. 4 **For the last time, will ye give him up? Shamus O’Brien. **For the last time, no,and be hanged to you!” cried Burke, cold in rage, and shaking his head in a lion-like fashion. ‘*Good-by thin to ye, Captain Desmond Burke! Twelve Pins ye will niver see ag’in. Saya prayer or two, for upon me word ye won’t have time afther we get at yees!”’ And with this warning the delegate returned to the mass of men clustered under the . Burke seized upon the opportunity to give a few last commands, for it was plain that the attack would soon begin, The preparations of the attacking party were soon complet Intimately acquainted as most of the peasants were with the Hall, and all the means of access to it, it did not take them long to agree upon the plan of attack. They divided their force into four parties, intend- ing to attack at four different points, at the same moment. As the four detachments filed off, Burke’s wits penetrated the plan in an instant. “It is all up with us, old fellow, as far as keeping them out of the house is concerned,” he observed to Smithers. “Four points gives us three men to each point, and they are certain to force an entrance somewhere; but, even after they get inside of the house, I think we can make a stand on the landing at the head of the stairway, and from behind the barricade with our superior weapons we ought to be able to hold them at bay for some time.”’ “That is so, by Jove! and I say, old boy, the sounds of the firing ought to travel, and in that way coy ed us assistance,’’ Smithers suggested. **It is likely!” Burke had taken the precaution to have the stair- way barricaded with furniture, and his idea that the troops might be able to make a stand on the landing and so prevent the attacking force from reaching the upper part of the mansion, where the prisoner was confined, was not an unreasonable one. On came the four attacking ‘ties, windi noiselessly over the ground like four huge blac snakes. ‘Stand to your arms, my men!” warned Burke. And the leader of the insurgents was just about to give the sign to raise the wild Irish yell—the sig- nal for the attack—when a most unexpected thing took place. Around one of the wings of the Hall, out on the lawn, in full view of the four attacking parties and the A agape of the house as well, walked Shamus en. Shamus O’Brien—alive, well and at liberty! A great shout went up to the sky from the lips of the Irishmen, and they waved their motley collection of weapons wildly in the air when they saw that the man whom the come to rescue at the cost even of blood and life, was already free. A bitter curse escaped from the lips of Desmond = oooh iy as he looked down upon the hated form of his val. It was an easy matter to guess the manner in which O’Brien had attained his liberty. “It is that deuced O’Glory!”’ declared the lieuten- ant. ‘‘The old rascal was determined that his ‘ illi- qe * furniture shouldn’t be spoilt, and so he has re- eased the prisoner!” ‘Curse him, I will be even with him for it, some day!” hissed the captain, in bitter, impotent 7 hamus mkt it eliberately in the center of the lawn and waved his hand toward the balcony. ‘““Good-by to you, captain dear! Iam so that Ican’t accept of your hospitality any longer!” he exclaimed. ‘‘The fact is, the country here is get- oe ee eee woe i —~—_— 23 _—— ee The maid had not been ordered to retire, and, shar- ing her mistress’s aversion to the man, she li near, from a sort of an insane idea that perhaps the process-server might do Miss Moore some harm. The heiress hesitated; she did not like the idea of granting a private interview to Mr. Dooney MacDar- row, nor could she understand why there should be a | reason for so doing, and she so expressed her- self. Dooney begged a thousand pardons for troubling her, but declared thut the important business upon — he had come must be made known to her ears only. After thinking the matter over for a moment Maggie dismissed the girl. As long as she had ad- mitted the fellow to her presence she might as well comply with his request, so she bade the girl with- draw, much to the disgust and amazement of the maid, who, if she had had her way, would have turn- ed Mr. Dooney MacDarrow out, neck and heels. The ge eager made sure that the girl had closed the door securely after her by a careful ex- amination, much to Miss Moore’s astonishment, who could not conceive of any reason for the strange cau- tion. ‘We can’t be too careful, miss,’’ Dooney observed, ina most mysterious way, with an extremely cun- a upon his ugly face. ‘‘Whin a man’s life s liberty is at stake, bedad, wan can’t be too cau- ous.”” The speech seemed to refer to Shamus O’Brien, but Miss Moore knew that there could be not in common between Shamus and such a man as this Dooney MacDarrow, the tool of a cruel law, so she cast a searching glance at the fellow but spoke not. “Troth! it’s running a poe risk I am, and I wouldn't be afther doing this, only I know that I am on the right side now, andI am ‘ager to show the byes that it isa changed man I am.’ All this sounded very stra to the lady’s ears, and she could not comprehend it at all. ‘*I do not understand what you are saying, nor do I s2e how it concerns me in the least,” she remarked. ‘Yis, I know that I am a blundering fellow, and not being used to convarsing wid the quality, “=> I don’t be afther making meself understood. But, wan wourd willdo that. I come from Mister Shamus O’Brien, if you pl’ase.”’ The lady looked earnestly at the fellow, but Dooney bore the scrutiny without flinching. gie Moore thought that she was acute enough to detect truth or falsehood in that face, she was very much mistaken, The process-server had not lived in this world, man and per for nearly forty years without learn- ing to school his face to suit the occasion. ‘You come from Shamus O’Brien?” ‘“* Yis, miss, more power to yees.” “And where is he?” ‘**Ina Dutch smack off the coast that he has hired to take him to France so that he can git off to * Dooney answered, immediately, and if superb manner. Well?” Dooney understood the meaning of the simple ex the fellow was lying, he was doing it in a perfectly | clamation; the lady wanted more information. **Heis on board of the Dutchman and he is all ready to sail, for Captain Burke has made the country too hot to hold him, but he wants to have a word wid ye, if ye pl'ase, afore he goes.” “How can I see him?” The lady mistrusted Dooney’s honesty and was determined to question him closely. She thought, poor child, that she had wits enough to measure strength with such a rascal. ting a little too warm to be comfortable, and so I’m _ Agr senna’ he has sint me to b you to going across the seas again. I really t the lit- | him. e Dutchman lays off the coast, only a short tle matter you had in view will have to be | distance off, and it is the intintion to at mid- postponed, but, as the old song sa night. I’ve a wee bit of a jaunting-car outside, and “*Tf it’s h ng ye want, I can ve ye there in a jiffy and afther r It’s yerself ye may hang.’ O’Brien has sed t he has to say I will dhrive ye Good-by and better luck next time!”’ And then the insurgents melted away as if by c. CHAPTER XXXVI, THE MESSAGE. Or course under the circumstances pursuit was not to be thought of, and the only satisfaction left to Burke was to attack the old lawyer for havin released the prisoner, but O’Glory protested b that was holy that he hadn’t a hand in the matter at all; and, in truth, it was the madam who had smashed in the lock of the door with an but the old man had given her the key to unlock the hand- cuffs which he had, fortunately as he thought, re- tained in his possession. O’Brien was away in the hills, and there was an end of the matter. So far Burke had not succeeded in scoring a single pointin the game, and he retired to his rest that night a highly disgusted man, but before morning came he had resolved upon another plan of actio which he immediately proceeded to carry out with his accustomed vigor. It was just a week from the ht when the stir- ring events related in our last chapter had taken place that the heiress, sitting alone in her own apartment, was apprised that Mr. MacDarrow, the Speaking with her. er. Now, itaggic felt both horror and contempt for this man, and she replied that she ho he would excuse her; any business that he ht have to transact Mr. O’Glory would attend to in person. But the process-server was o te, and sent back word that his business was with her in n, and that if she did not choose to see him be felt sure that she would regret it. Now this rather excited the lady’s curiosity, so she told her maid that she might show the fellow in. Dooney made his appearence with a great pro- fusion of bows, and in the most abject manner . pardon for disturbing her so soon after supper, ut added, as an excuse, that business called to a distant point that night, and he was anxious to get on the road A soon as possible, Logi “ , Sir; you may spare your apologies,” the heiress said, coldly. She had a deep-rooted aversion to the man, and ne pap of the process-server did not tend to ecrease it. 4 ‘“*I beg your pardon, miss, but what I have to say to yees must be said in private,” he remarked, with a meaning glance at ‘ne girl whostood in the docrway. d like to have the pleasure of ps Amirika,’’ D ? y h rry dhri h pha th ng y y tha : miss, i n, d tha y trust y Miss M | Aton home ag’in.”’ The story seemed plausible enough, but Maggie distrusted the messenger. ‘When must I go?” she asked, after quite a long pause. “Right off; to wance, if it is alhecge to yees.” “* Mr. MacDarrow, I do not trust you!” the lady exclaimed, abruptly. ‘‘ Your past career has been such t I am unable to place any reliance upon your word. You have ever been a foe to Shamus O’Brien and the cause he represents.”’ ‘I know, miss, phat [ have been, and it ig sorry I am entirely for it,’ Dooney declared, with a ree t f ‘*The byes gave me the divil’s own b’at- ing andI made up me mind that I would turn me coat and jine the other side, and now, pl’ase the pigs, I’m ag’in’ the Government out and out!” conversion is somewhat sudden.” “* Paix, t has been a rocky road that I have traveled for the last few weeks, and I made up me mind that I had better get out of it. Oh, now, I’m as big a rapparee as the best of thim!” The lady was not convinced, despite the stron assertion, and she had a final test in her min which she was sure would prove whether was false or true. ‘Why did not Mr. O’Brien give you a letter or uld be assured that I could giving his the man some sign so that I wo our statement?’’ she asked. *“*"Deed and he did!’? Dooney repli head a vigorous thump as he spoke as if to reproach himself for his — ess. ‘He sed, at the last moment—phat a blundering fool I was to forget it !— *Mebbe, ye had better take a line so that me wife— oore—will know that it is all right.’ I have it here somewhere.” After a little search Dooney produced the paper from the inner pocket of a greasy wallet. It only bore a le line: trust the bearer. Samus.” There was no mistaking the handwriting; Maggie would have picked it out among a thousand. The little scrap od po at once removed her doubts, and she imm ly prepared to accompany the messenger. Her preparations were soon made, and by the pet vate entrance she quitted the Hall much to the amazement of the maid, whom she directed to sit u hack a2 * gis did not expect to be home until She took her place in the car and away they went, heading directly by obscure roads, some of them lit- tle better than cow-paths, to the coast, 1 “You may (E| oe je) a "Pes eom S ,* col