skulkin' by the side o' the dour, outside o' this room, Sir; only I won't take id on me to say so, of a downright sartnty."

"Hell and furies!"

"Oh, Sir, 'twas none o' my fault. I'm a poor crather iv a girl, wid good carak thers-" "And it was in her carriage that Miss Hartley left the inn ?”

"Yes, Sir. An' he put up the step wid his own hands."

"Who told you this ?"

"Murtoch Kane, the stable-boy, Sir. An' sure, I b'lieve it's Murtoch got the horses ready."

"Where is he to be found ?"

"Below in the yard, Sir, he ought to be, if he hasn't left his work to join wid the Croppies." Sir William was hurrying away to seek the person named, when the terrified girl besought him to stop an instant, and just tell her if the Croppies wouldn't kill her, and having received a hasty assurance of safety, she offered to accompany him to the stable-yard.

It generally occurs, that when we are least in the vein to encounter thwarting circumstances, they rapidly present themselves to us; and in his continued search after important informa

tion, Sir William Judkin was still doomed to meet an interruption, which in his calmest mood would have irritated him.

Murtoch Kane was one of those vagabonds, to be met with about every inn, who, without any ostensible calling, are extremely ingenious in taxing travellers' purses for the performance of various petty services, always unsought, and most frequently unnecessary; it is needless to add that such characters seldom lay claim to morals or religion, or do not excel in the indulgence of every grovelling vice and propensity. And we would not pause, at this stage of our story, slightly to characterize the individual in question, but that, added to the traits common to all his tribe, Murtoch Kane's name is still remembered in Enniscorthy as the principal executioner of insurgent vengeance, and the actual perpetrator of the greater number of those cold-blooded murders committed, during fair-fighting elsewhere, upon the rocky hill which rises above the town.

He was a ragged fellow, about twenty-six years of age, with a countenance of which the inherent malignity was disguised beneath show of low humour, or rather affected carelessness. As Sir William advanced towards

a

the stable to seek him, he came staggering forward, evidently intoxicated, a faded green ribbon tied round his battered hat, and cockaded at one side, and a pike in his hand.

The "poor girl wid the good carakthers" pointed him out to Sir William as the object of his search, and the young Baronet accordingly accosted him as he staggered by.

"Stop, my man-a question."

"For the Green or the Orange ?" first questioned Murtoch Kane.

"For the Green, and the Green for ever!" "Hurrah, then! an' it's well you said id: this 'ud be through your backbone, if you said any thing else. Mind what I tell you. I'd shake paws wid a mad-dog, bud the pike, the pike for the Orangeman!-ay, an' they'll get it, right an' left, day an' night; their pay-day is come, and who'd refuse 'em their long reckonin'?"

"Hearken! you helped to procure horses for Sir Thomas Hartley's daughter to leave Enniscorthy, last night?"

"Ay, they hanged him up by candle-light," mistaking the question, "an' the Orange murtherer that done the job, he tuck off the poor daughther. Oh!" he uttered a bellow, "I'd

give a gallon o' whiskey to lay one hand on that skibbeah, Talbot."

"If you dislike him so much, why did assist him to carry away Miss Hartley ?”

you

"Why did I? Who are you that's axin ?" "You saw the young lady enter the carriage ?" questioned Sir William evasively; and bent upon extracting information quietly from the intoxicated and unmanagable Murtoch.

"To be sure I did!

What have

agin Sir Thomas's daughter ?”

you to say

"Nothing. I am her friend, and, if possible would rescue her from Talbot."

66

Oh, the decaivin Orange thief! Sure, I didn't know a word it was he was to go off by her side, until afther they tuck to the road, an' then I overhard his crony, the black Orangeman that bribed me to stale out the horses, sayin' to another, as much as that it was all Talbot's job. Oh, murther!" he bellowed again. "You can tell which road they went ?"

"To be sure I can, if I like id. Oh! why didn't he just wait till the boys come in this mornin'!"

"The road to Wexford, you say?" asked Sir William, at a venture.

* Executioner.

"Yes, the road to Waxford town: what's that to you ?"

"You are certain ?" giving money.

"Sart'n, your grandaddy!" doggedly clutching the bribe;" do you take me for a fool? Who says it wasn't to Waxford? Here's Murtoch Kane, that 'll pike a score of Orangemen every day the sun gets up, an' who dares say id to him? whoo!"

Certainly not I, since you are so sure of the road Talbot took with Miss Hartley."

"Sure! I wish I was as sure o' meetin' him, the Orange hangman, at the next turn o' the next sthreet. Hurrah for the bould Croppy boys! hurrah!" and he staggered off, yelling

out

"Rise up, my poor Croppies, you're long enough down, An' we'll pike all these Orangemen out o' the town, Down, down, Orange, lie down!"

During this dialogue, it was with difficulty Sir William could keep in the boiling ferment of his blood, or bring his trembling lips to articulate the necessary questions. For at length it seemed indeed certain that his bride was in the power of his detested rival; and nothing but an instinctive consciousness of the necessity of arming himself with information