The O'Donoghue Part 70

"I did more, madam--I sent a copy of it to the Secretary of State, whose warrant I possess: the young officials of the Home Office will, doubtless, thank me for the amus.e.m.e.nt I have afforded them in its contents. The match-making talents of Sir Archy and his niece's fascinations have, however, failed for once. The Guardsman seems to have got over his short-lived pa.s.sion."

"Stand back, sir, and let me pa.s.s."

"One moment more, madam; if I have suffered some injuries from your family, I have at least one debt of grat.i.tude to acknowledge--but for your note, written by your own hand, I should scarcely have succeeded in capturing a rebel, whose treason will not long await its penalty--but for your able a.s.sistance, your cousin might have escaped--indeed, it may be worth while to inform you that Sir Archibald had good hopes of obtaining his pardon, a circ.u.mstance which will, doubtless, be satisfactory to the surviving members of the family."

"My cousin Mark taken!" cried Kate, as she clasped her hands to either side of her head in a paroxysm of agony.

"Taken, and on his way to Dublin, under a military escort; on Wednesday he will be tried by court-martial: I hope and trust on Thursday--but perhaps it would be cruel to tell you of Thursday's proceedings."

Kate reeled, and endeavoured to support herself by a chair; but a sickness like death crept over her, and with a faint low sigh she sank lifeless on the floor; at the same instant the door was burst open by a tremendous effort, and Hemsworth sent forward into the room. It was Mark, splashed and dripping, his face flushed with violent exertion, that entered. With one glance at Hemsworth, and another at the fainting form before him, he seemed to divine all.

"Our day of reckoning is come at last, sir," said he, in a low distinct voice; "it has been somewhat tardy, however."

"If you have any claim on me, Mr. O'Donoghue," said Hemsworth, with a forced calmness, "I am ready, at the proper time and place, to offer you every satisfaction."

"That time and place is here, sir," said Mark, as without the slightest sign of pa.s.sion he bolted the door, and drew a heavy table across it. "Here, in this room, from which both of us shall never walk forth alive."

"Take care, sir, what you do; I am armed," said Hemsworth, as he threw a quick glance around, to see if any hope of escape should present itself.

"And so am I," said Mark, coolly, who still busied himself in removing every object from the middle of the room, while gently lifting Kate, he laid her, still unconscious as she was, upon a sofa.

"We have neither of us much time to throw away, I fancy," said he, with a bitter laugh; "choose your place now, sir, and fire when you please--mine is yonder;" and as he spoke he turned half round to walk towards the spot indicated. With the quickness of lightning, Hemsworth seized the moment, and drawing a pistol from his bosom, aimed and fired; the ball grazed Mark's shoulder, and made him stagger forwards; but in a second he recovered himself: the casualty saved him; for while falling, a second bullet whizzed after the first. With a cry of vengeance that made the old walls ring again, Mark sprang at him; it was the deadly leap of a tiger on his prey; the impulse was such, that as he caught him in his arms, both rolled over together on the floor. The struggle was but brief; Mark, superior in youth, strength, and activity, soon got him under, and with his knee upon his chest, pinioned him down to the ground. There was a pause, the only sounds being the quick-drawn breathings of both, as with looks of hate they gazed at each other;--while with one hand he grasped Hemsworth by the throat, with the other he felt for his pistol: slowly he drew forth the weapon, and c.o.c.ked it; then laying the cold muzzle upon the other's forehead, he pressed the trigger; the c.o.c.k snapped, but the priming burned. He flung the weapon from him in pa.s.sion, and drew another; but ere he could adjust it, Hemsworth ceased to breathe; a cold livid colour spread over his features, and a clammy sweat bedewed his forehead--he had fainted.

Mark dropped the uplifted weapon, as he muttered--"It was a fitting fate--the death of a coward." Then standing up, he approached the window that overlooked the road, and threw it wide open. The storm still blew with all its force, and in a second extinguished the lights in the room, leaving all in darkness. With cautious steps, Mark moved towards where the body lay, and lifting it in his powerful arms, carried it towards the window; with one vigorous effort he hurled the lifeless form from him, and the heavy ma.s.s was heard as it fell crashing among the brushwood that covered the precipice.

[Ill.u.s.tration: frontispiece]

Mark gazed for a few seconds into the black abyss beneath, and then withdrawing, he closed the window, and barred it. By the aid of his pistol he struck a light, and relighted the candles, and then approached the sofa where Kate lay.

"Have I been ill, Mark?" said she, as she touched his band--"have I been ill, and dreaming a horrid dream? I thought Hems-worth was here, and that--that--but he was here--I know it now--you met him here. Oh, Mark, dearest Mark, what has happened--where is he?"

Mark pointed to the window, but never spoke.

"Is he killed--did you kill him?" cried she, as her eyes grew wild with the expression of terror. "Oh, merciful heaven, who has visited us so heavily, why will reason remain when madness would be mercy! You have killed him!"

"He did not die by my hand, though he well deserved to have done so,"

said Mark, sternly; "but are our hours to be so many now, that we can waste them on such a theme. The French are in the Bay--at least a portion of the fleet--sixteen vessels, nine of which are ships of the line, are holding by their anchors beneath our cliffs; twenty more are at sea, or wrecked or captured by the English, for who can tell the extent of our disasters. All is against us; but against all we might succeed, if we had not traitors amongst us."

"The Government is aware of the plot, Mark--knows every man engaged in it, and is fully prepared to meet your advance."

"Such is the rumour; but there's no truth in it: the people hold back, and give this as the excuse for their cowardice. The priests will not harangue them, and the panic spreads every moment wider, of treachery and betrayal. Lanty Lawler, the fellow who should have supplied horses for the artillery, is an informer; so are half the others. There's nothing for it but a bold plunge--something to put every neck in the halter, and then will come the spirit to meet all difficulties--so thinks Tone, and he's a n.o.ble-hearted fellow, and ready for any peril."

A loud knocking at the door of the tower now broke in upon the converse, and Kerry O'Leary called aloud--

"Open the door, Master Mark; be quick, the soldiers is comin'."

Mark speedily withdrew the heavy table from its place across the door, and opened it. Kerry, his clothes reduced to rags, and his face and hands bleeding, stood before him, terror in every feature. "They took me prisoner at the gate there, but I contrived to slip away, and took to the mountain, and a fine chase they gave me for the last hour----"

"But the soldiers--where are they, and in what place?"

"There's two troops of horse about a mile below Mary's in the glen, waiting for Hemsworth's orders to advance."

"Go on," said Mark, with a stern smile; "they're not likely to move for some time."

"I do not know that, then," said Kerry, "for I saw Hemsworth pa.s.s up the road, with two men holding him on his horse; he seemed to have got a bad fall, for the blood was running down his face, and his cheeks was as pale as a corpse."

"You saw Hemsworth, and he was living!"

"Faix he was, and no doubt of it; there never was the man in these parts could curse and swear the way he does, barrin' himself, and I heerd him blasphaming away as he went along what he wouldn't do down here."

"Oh, fly, Mark; don't lose a second, for heaven's sake.----"

"And leave you here to the mercy of this scoundrel and his bloodhounds."

"No, no; we are safe here; he dare not wreak his vengeance on us; but you are his greatest enemy."

"'Tis thrue she's sayin'," cried Kerry, eagerly; "I heerd Hemsworth say to Sam Wylie, that Captain Travers is up at Macroom with his regiment, and was coming down to guard the castle here; but that there was plenty of time to take you before he came, and there was a tree standing to hang you, besides."

"I leave you, then, in safe keeping," said Mark, with a touch of sarcasm in his voice; "one word of good-bye to my father, and I am gone."

It was some moments before the O'Donoghue could rally from the deep stupor grief and anxiety induced, and recognize Mark as he leaned over his chair; and then as he felt his hands and clutched his arms, he seemed endeavouring to persuade himself that it was not some pa.s.sing dream he laboured under.

"The pursuit is too hot, father," said Mark, after two or three efforts to arouse his mind to what was going forward, "and I must be off.

Hemsworth has a strong party in the glen; but fear nothing; he cannot molest you; and, besides, his time is brief now."

"And will you leave me, Mark; will you desert me now?" said the old man, with all the selfishness of age, forgetting every thing, save his own feelings.

"Not if you wish me to remain; if you think there is more honour in my being taken prisoner under your own roof, I'm just as willing."

"Oh, no, uncle," cried Kate, rushing forward; "do not keep him; say good-bye, and speedily; the dragoons are advancing already."

"There goes a shot! that was a cannon," cried Mark, in ecstasy, as he lifted his hand to catch the sound--"another! another! they're landing--they're coming--you'll see me again before day-break, father,"

said he, embracing the old man tenderly, while he turned to bid Kate adieu. She stood with her hands before her eyes, her bosom heaving violently. Mark gazed at her for a moment, and pressing his lips to her cheek, merely whispered one word, and was gone.

Hemsworth's horse, which Kerry had found in the stable, stood ready awaiting Mark, and without a moment's loss of time, he sprung on the animal's back, and dashed down the road at full speed. Meanwhile the loud firing of cannon continued at intervals towards the Bay, and more than one rocket was seen to throw its bright glare through the blackness of the night.

"They're landing at last," cried Mark, as every report set his heart bounding with eager hope, and forward he rode through the storm.

CHAPTER XLVIII. THE GLEN AND THE BAY

Kerry O'Leary's intelligence was correct in every particular. Hems-worth was not only living, but, save some bruises, and a cut upon his forehead, was little the worse for his adventure. The brushwood had caught him in his descent, and broken the fall; and although the height was considerable, when he reached the ground he was merely stunned, and not seriously injured. After a little time he was able to walk, and had succeeded in advancing about half a mile up the glen, when he was met by Wylie and a party of his followers, returning after escorting the chaise some miles on the road.

Neither our s.p.a.ce nor our inclination permit us to dwell on the scene that followed, where Hemsworth, outwitted and duped as he believed himself, gave way to the most violent pa.s.sion, accusing every one in turn of treachery, and vowing a deep and b.l.o.o.d.y vengeance on the whole House of O'Donoghue.

Seated on Wylie's horse, and supported on each side by two men--for at first his weakness increased, as he found himself in the saddle--he went along at a foot's pace. He would not listen to Wylie's proposal of returning to the "Lodge," but constantly called out--"To Keim-an-eigh as fast as possible--to the dragoons!" and at last pa.s.sion had so far supplied energy, that he was able to press on faster, when suddenly a twinkling light through the gloom apprised him that he was near the little way-side inn.