Baronet said, with a smile and a triumphant flash of his dark eyes, while he fondly clasped her hand between his own. "Poor Devil! I can afford to pity him. Yet I must, in this one instance, disobey you. I am sorry you should have known anything of the matter, but since it has so chanced, I must say to you, that I am not to be outraged and menanced with impunity. Nay, could you, Eliza, trust safely to my future protection, if I forebore to chastise this insolence offered to us both ?”

“Aye, and the more securely for such a proof of your affection for me. Yield to my prayer, and you will indeed convince me that I have some real influence over you. Be generous, and—if it be possible—I will love you the better for it!"

Her voice trembled and sank; tears swam in her soft upturned eyes; her lips quivered with emotion. Her lover visibly wavered at the appeal. He averted his head, and made an effort to overcome the effect produced in him by her words.

“My Eliza !" he urged: "this is hardly just to me or to yourself. You should spare me an appeal to which it would be dishonourable to hearken. Do not pledge me to my own shame."

“Grant my prayer, Sir William, and at a future day you will bless me for it ;" was the girl's earnest reply. "Dear Sir William, oh, dear love!" her head sank against his shoulder as she added, in a burst of weeping, “doom me not to days of remorse and wretchedness."

The Baronet's answer did not go to prove Tim Reily absolutely correct in his conclusions as to the perfect understanding at which the lovers had arrived.

“Eliza—, difficult as is the sacrifice—upon one condition I will obey you."

"Ob,-name it!"

"Be more explicit, sweet one, in your consent to waive the tiresome probation between me and happiness. Say you will be mine at the very shortest day for which I can obtain your Father's approval. This is my condition. Speak, Eliza, do you accept it ?"

Eliza did not immediately reply, though he bent down eagerly to catch her slightest whisper. Her face was hidden on his arm and she resisted his attempt to raise it. Speaking still more

ardently he went on,

"Believe me, love, it is the only way of tention between my insolent rival and me. shut out, he will cease to provoke my vengeance.

putting an end to conWhen he sees all hope Say you consent,

Eliza"-And he bent down his head again. This time he caught the softly spoken words

"I do I consent."

"Then," the lover exclaimed, as he clasped her to his bosom, "I swear to you to avoid-even should he continue to annoy meall encounter with this presumptuous and foolish young man. Nay, with this ridiculous transcript of his intemperance," flinging the letter into the fire, "let all thought of my resentment perish for ever!"

"Thank God-thank God !" cried Eliza. And in the warmth of her gratitude, she submitted passively to her lover's ardent

caresses.

CHAPTER XI.

But,

A MONTH following the termination of the time of the last chapter, Sir Thomas Hartley was seated in his dining-parlour, teteà-tete with a strange guest. The venerable apartment was solidly wainscotted with shillelagh oak, against which (as is said of the wood-work of the roof of Westminster Abbey, also reputed Irish) the venomous spider of England durst not affix his web. however true this assertion may be, the less hurtful, though no whit more ornamental, Irish insect of the same species may, without danger to his life or health, excepting at the hands of the housemaid, (and sometimes he need not fear her either,) append his curious workmanship to any convenient beam or plank of his country's timber. Yet, let it not be inferred that, in the present instance, the venerable wainscot was disfigured by any of those filmy textures which characterize the neglected dwelling, The domestic concerns of Sir Thomas Hartley were too diligently overlooked by Miss Alicia, to allow of such a case. One glance of her keen eye would have detected, in the most remote corner or subtile chink, the mesh of the unsightly spider, or her susceptible ear have distinguished, above all other sounds, the death-buzz of the tortured fly, expiring in the monster's claws.

The cloth had been removed after dinner, and the polished table was cheered and graced by a variety of excellent wines, for which the cellars of the host, in common with those of many Irish gen

tlemen of the time, were deservedly celebrated. In truth, we do not know a country, however it has happened, more likely than our own to submit, now and then, to the palate of the connoisseur, a glass of good old claret.

The strange guest, who sat opposite to Sir Thomas Hartley, we shall not pause to describe, because, though an important and memorable actor on our boards, he was but a passing one,— making a single entrance and exit, and, in conformity with the peculiar system of secresy of those whose agent he proved himself to be, not even leaving a name behind.

Neither is it our purpose to report the whole of a long conversation which for hours after the dispatch of dinner, took place between him and Sir Thomas; or rather, which, in reply to the urging of the stranger upon a certain point, was almost monopolized by the Baronet.

It will be sufficient to take up their discourse towards its close, when, after a long and eloquent harangue from his high-minded and warm-hearted host, explanatory of his refusal to engage in the matter concerning which he had been specially solicited, the stranger remarked:

"Then, Sir Thomas, it is really your intention to forsake, in their present efforts, your old political brethren ?"

"It is, Sir," the Baronet replied; " partly for the reasons I have given, partly for others which I can give. Yet, my secession does not occur without regret,—I may add, sorrow, heart-felt sorrow, for the wretched necessity that compels it. Never can I cease to wish ardently, and, I hope, purely, for the independence and happiness of my country that my judgment and conscience now refuse an exertion in her behalf, is a bitter pang. As a Volunteer officer, in the first epoch of Ireland's glory, I was an enthusiast. Fifteen years have since sobered down my mind, and yet I see no reason to censure my former views and feelings. It was the only period, during a lapse of six centuries, in which Ireland's sons, pausing in their dissensions, united for her good, and therefore seemed capable of serving her. Sir, recollection of that time fills me again with its spirit. The passion of the land was the happiness of the land in the pursuit of an object so virtuous, it formed the happiness of the people. Have we for ever outlived those days of sunshine?"

:

"I think we have not, Sir Thomas," answered the stranger. "The coming struggle will be but the storm that breaks and disperses the clouds, to make way for a returning burst of purest sunshine.'

"I despair of it, Sir," said the Baronet.

"And yet, Sir Thomas, you say, that even at the suppression of the last of the Volunteers, your opinions and views went the full length of theirs. That, in fact, you were, in 1794, a true United Irishman ?"

"I have admitted as much, Sir,"

66

"May I, then, beg to be favoured, in addition to the arguments you have already adduced, with the final reasons for now regarding as hopeless, an effort you must, at that time, have thought promising?"

66

Readily, Sir. At the moment when our proceedings for our country's good changed from open, public remonstrance, into more secret and disguised plans, I freely admit, I had not sufficiently reflected on ultimate results. Spirit and indignation were too much roused to allow of due forecast. Time has since been afforded me for calmer thought, and, I must own, I shrink from the cruel devastations of a civil war, even supposing it engaged in by a union amongst the majority of my countrymen, such as that exhibited by the Volunteers of 1782. I have looked at the proceedings in France, and―let stronger or baser hearts sneer at me, if they will-I shudder at the idea of stalking, even to the shrine of Freedom, through national carnage, ruin, and demoralization. But where is the perfect union supposed? Where the spirit of 1782? Has not our previous discourse shown, that from a variety of causes-some of them the planned workings of bad men,-sect is now set against sect, throughout our miserable land? That the struggle, stripped of all its saving character, cannot therefore be one between Ireland and England, but one between Irishmen and Irishmen-nay, between Christians and Christians, adoring the same God, though hating each other in His Name! Sir, this is a sickening, an unnerving prospect! I could not be a party in such a strife. Hand in hand with my countrymen, of every religious denomination, it is my pride and glory to have once cried out for liberty. But the generous fire of patriotism no longer warms the bosoms of Irishmen. In the present instance, their hearts flame against one another with an impure fire, kindled by a brand that has been snatched from hell."

Sir Thomas, while speaking these words, gave a proof of the strength of his feelings-tears started to his eyes.

"I trust," said his guest, "you anticipate too gloomily, Sir Thomas. That blood must flow, is inevitable. But that the efforts of the conductors of this good cause will succeed in counteracting

the sectarian rancour you dread, I almost as certainly reckon on."

"I see, Sir," answered the Baronet, "you have not examined with, perhaps, the closeness which the case demands, the materials either of your opponents or adherents. That men of improved intellect may refrain from shedding each other's blood, on the mere score of religion, I hope and pray. But that the lower orders, on both sides, will-recollecting their long-cherished hatred, and mutual hopes of extermination or revenge-hesitate in the most atrocious as well as superfluous outrages; that Orangeman will spare Catholic, or Catholic, Orangeman, I cannot, alas! contemplate as possible. And the frightful picture of their common barbarities is ever before my eyes, scaring me from all participation in your cause. Sir, I shrink from the vortex."

"To our deep regret, Sir Thomas. But we expect at least, that, if not ranked at our side, you will stand neuter.'

"Such must be my course, Sir. My single efforts could not now arrest the progress of the coming devastation. By the utmost I could do, a few wretches only might be brought to punishment, -even supposing me engaged with those whose policy in my native land I can no more admire than I can consent to join you, or rather your supporters, in whom my religion would, perhaps, arouse a thirst for my death. Alone, therefore, I must abide the storm as I may."

66 Have you ever heard, Sir Thomas, that the Cabinet of this country has, long ago, become acquainted with the secret of our confederation against it?" demaded the stranger, in visible asperity.

"I have heard as much, Sir."

"And that they since permit it to go on," continued the guest, in increasing bitterness, "while they organize and impel the very sectarian hatred you so much deprecate,-hallooing different portions of the people against each other, as one of the best means of saving themselves? And has your mind's eye, Sir Thomas, never caught a glimpse, in his closet, of the even pulsed minister, contemplating the gradual workings of this volcano of base passions, and quietly calculating upon its explosion? Has your fancy's ear never caught the unagitated accents of his voice, as throwing his cold eyes over the sea of blood in which our land is to be deluged, he may have said—'Let it be; for across this very tide will I sail triumphant to the harbour of my ambition ?" "

"I have not sought so deep, Sir."

"Well; time will show if I wrong him. But it grows late in