was to have let in an armed band, whose pikes intended for indoor work, were specially prepared with handles not more than five feet long. Two hundred pikes were found buried under some hay in an old cow-house close to a postern door leading from the college. Denis says it is not to be wondered at if the students of the university are no friends with the disaffected. He and Geraldine had high words this morning about poor Lord Edward. Denis fiercely declares he hopes he will"get his deserts," by which he means execution. Geraldine is confident that his friends will never rest until they have set him free. "He will come amongst the people yet!" she said. "He will come-and all Ireland will rally round him, and he will lead them on to victory." And she went off singing— Where shall we pitch our camp? Says the Shan van Voght, On the Curragh of Kildare, Says the Shan van Voght. When she had gone Terry O'Toole came shuffling up with an air of mystery about his old weather-beaten face. "Are ye alone, Masther Dinis ?" "Yes," Denis answered, ignoring with brotherly politeness my presence. Terry seated himself on a shelf of rock and proceeded calmly to puff away with his short pipe. ye After a minute or two he laid it aside. "Masther Dinis," he began abruptly, "did iver heer tell of a dead man's coffin bein' so mighty heavy intoirely that it 'ud take siven sthrong men to carry it?" "Never!" replied Denis," have you "Maybe I have, and maybe I haven't," returned Terry, oracularly. "Masther Dinis," he continued after a pause, wouldn't ye tink that anny dacent bodies-let alone Christian bodies-would bury their dead by daylight and not at midnight, and wouldn't they carry their coffins sthraight from the wake to the churchyard, and not be for to tink that round by Ballycarrig rocks is the rapidest way from Kilnashanty to Lara churchyard? And isn't it the quarest ting of all, Masther Dinis, if there would be some who do be sayin' they caint rightly be shure f'what's this is the name of the dead man from Kilnashanty at all, at all." "What do you mean, Terry ?" "Now I niver said I meant annyting, nor do I mane annyting-f'what would I mane now? But it's yer honour I would like to let pass the nights in that ould hit of a cabin o' mine, f'where as yer honour knows thare's the little parth fornent the doure which lades around over the hillside to Ballycarrig. The nights are not wild this mont o' May, Masther Dinis, and the say does be aisy and paceful. But how would I know f'what was the reason of them sthrange noises that do be goin' by; and me in bed and wakened out o' my first sleep?" Terry shook the ashes out of his pipe, then laid it down again. There was a cunning look in the one blear eye he kept open, as after taking a glance round he leaned forward and began afresh— "F'whisper! isn't it thrue that there do be great rewards intoirely offered to them as can tell f'where such tings as pikes and foire-arrems and the loike do be consaled? And isn't it a power of them weapons that since the offer was proclaimed last March they have been afther discoverthing? But shure who'd go and inform? Faith, and it's not mesilf! Thare's not a craythur in the wide worrald, Masther Dinis, and shure I wouldn't tell ye a lie-thare's not wan craythur, though ye might sarch the country from end to end, that could dar to name Terry O'Toole as an informer-and that's the trute!" .. Well, go on," cried Denis his interest roused. "Is it to go on ye want me? Shure and there's just nothing to go on about. I haven't told ye a ha'porth about annyting-mind that Masther Dinis ! All I say is, go talk wid Miss Ida! She's cute, Miss Ida! Says she to me, says she, Why, Terry,' says she, f'what's this they have done on my grotto?" says she, and f'where are all them shells? 6 6 Don't the whole place look as though some wan had been afther turnin' all the ground up and covered it over afresh,' says she. 'Is it the say that has done that on us, wash in the length of Ballycarrig cave, I know-it couldn't iver do it, not if it thried as hard as hard could be,' says I. 'Well, I give it up!' says Miss Ida. 'And I'm of the same opinion, Miss Ida, honey,' says I. 'I give it up too,' says I. And so I do give it up, Masther Dinis. Who'd go for to meddle wid a lonesome, ould cave as the likes o' that? F'what sinse would there be for anny wan to be throublin' theirselves wid turnin' up the sand and airth jist for nothing at all? But," concluded Terry, "would ye tink bad of just mintionin' the matther to Misther O'Rossa, his honour. Maybe wan of these nights his honour might take a fancy to row himself down that way—just carelesslike-and-f'whisper, Masther Dinis, if he would get some few of them constables from Castlebar to give him their company on the job, it 'ud be betther a hundred times than biddin' me come row him, so it would !” The sound of footsteps coming down the roughly cut steps in the rock at that moment, gave warning of the approach of some one. |