he would tell some of his friends to give it to him next morning. But as he was coming home who should he meet but Ned's comrade, and this man being both drunk and angry, fastened a quarrel on Hugh, and the end of it was that Hugh was provoked beyond bearing, and gave him a blow with the bayonet he had in his hand, and the man fell dead on the spot it was a lonely place, a little way out of the town. Hugh got away as quick as he could, and never thought more of the unfortunate bayonet; and his regiment was marched off at day-light, and so he never heard a word more of the matter till he came back a few years afterwards.

'The first thing he did then was to inquire for the young woman he wished to marry, and he was told that she had died of a broken heart, grieving for her brother. What happened her brother?' said Hugh; but his heart turned like a stone.

"Oh,' says one, sure he was hanged for the murder of his comrade, who was killed the very night you left this, after Ned and he had been quarrelling, and Ned's bayonet was found beside him. Ned denied it with his dying breath, but the people said he was hardened, for there was his bayonet, and he could not tell how it got there."

'So you see, Mrs. Toole,' Peggy added, 'the innocent suffered for the guilty; but which do you think suffered most, Mrs. Toole? Hugh or the man who died in his stead?'

Toole could not stand the appeal, but starting up with a face distorted with contending passions, would have flung the stool on which he had been sitting at his tormentor's head, but she held him with her powerful arm.

'Sit down, sit down, man alive,' she said, with much composure, 'sit down, I meant no offence to you; I was only saying that one who lives guilty is more miserable than they who die innocent-that was all. And so, Mrs. Toole, I just told you that story to shew that if it hadn't been for the bayonet no one could ever have said how the poor soldier came by his death. And now that reminds me of it, Brian, wasn't it an odd thing that no one ever made out what it was gave poor Pat Dogherty his deathblow? The people say it wasn't like the blow of a stone, and yet the boy that's to be hung for it had nothing with him baring this: I saw you all three setting off, and I'll swear he hadn't so much as a stick, nor when he was taken up had he anything either and now that brings it back to me, Brian, you had that great loaded whip of yours that wanted the lash, with you that morning-what did you do with it?'

Toole's knees knocked together, but before his trembling lips could utter, the policemen, who, with the rector and Mr. Hastings were stationed at the back entrance, appeared at the appointed signal'What did you do with it?' and the wretched man, whose previous state of mind deprived him of all self-possession, fell at the rector's feet, and offered to confess all if his life would be spared.

'I cannot make you any promises,' said the rector, whose dignity of form, and front bearing the stamp of rectitude, contrasted strongly with the miserable suppliant at his feet, but a timely confession will assuredly aid you in preparing to think of meeting, sooner or later, that Judge whom no one can deceive.'

'If you will come with me then into that room,' said Toole, in a more composed and determined manner, 'I will tell it to you in private.'

Two rooms leading one into the other joined the kitchen, in which they were: in the further room was a door which opened to the fields at the back of the house: the rector instantly crossed the first of these rooms, and, at Toole's desire, had stepped over the threshold of the inner one, when he turned his head-just in time-for the traitor who followed him had caught up a spade, which he probably knew was there, and had it suspended, ready to strike, intending, I suppose, when he had effected this deed of vengeance, to trust to his speed in running, and the confusion of the moment, for his escape.

Possessed of much personal strength, the rector grasped the handle of the spade, and called for help, which being at hand the wretched man was secured.

Still perfectly calm and evincing no marks of anger against the man who had aimed at his life, the rector made Mr. Hastings remain with him, and dismissing the much more irritated policemen, told Toole that although he had just forfeited his life by a fresh act of violence he was willing to pardon him, and to forbear to prosecute, if he were still willing to make retribution for his past acts, and to confess all that he knew respecting Dogherty's death.

Self-preservation was all that the wretched man now thought of, and sinking on the side of the bed he glanced round to see that all the policemen were withdrawn, and then murmured in a husky tone-' I had no intention of hurting Pat Dogherty-why should I! we were always friends: but I was angry that he let the Orange fellow get away, and I wanted

him to turn back with me and overtake him; he would not, and when he taunted me, I lost all patience, and struck him a blow with the whip-handle, but I did not think to do what I did.'

'Did he speak afterwards?' said the rector, in a solemn tone.

The man looked up in his face for the first time, and uttered, with peculiar emphasis, the word'Speak?'-then looking down, he said, 'No, he didn't, but he gave me a look that's in my mind and before my eyes night and day ever since; I went to lift him up,' he added, as if having once opened his lips it relieved him to speak on, but when I saw that look, I dropped him again; the blood sprang to his mouth, but it stopped there; he was dead in half a minute.'

'And what did you do then?

'I threw the whip down into the thickest briars, and ran back and told the people.'

'But why did you lay it to John Tennisson's charge?'

'Who else would I lay it on?' Toole demanded, raising momentarily the heavy lid from an eye whence the desire of revenge still shot a reviving gleam.

And so you bore witness against an innocent man,' said Mr. Hastings, knowing yourself to be the murderer!'

This speech darkened into deeper gloom the dark countenance of the person it was addressed to: and the appearance of the policemen who were to carry him away finished the impression. From thenceforth his lips were closed, so far as confession or retribution was concerned. His look, instead of being

timid or terrified, became sullen: an air of dogged resolution sat on his brow. Before the magistrate to whom he was taken he steadily denied his knowledge of Dogherty's death, further than he had witnessed to at the trial. He refused to acknowledge the confession he had made to the rector, and declared that he, Mr. Hastings, and the policemen were all forsworn, and were in a league to rescue one of their own party.

Some time

But little now remains to be told. after the event recorded above, Nanny and I walked over to Kate Connolly's house. It was a fine, clear, sun-shiny, morning in the middle of autumn. As we approached it we saw her old grandmother seated on the grass-bank that bounded a small field in its front. Nanny touched my arm and said, Look, poor old woman, she is in one of her bad tempers. Whenever anything is going on in her house which vexes her, and yet which she cannot put an end to, she goes and sits there: and once she got the rheumatism by sitting there on a rainy day, because Kate was doing something she thought she should have known she did not wish her to do.' As she spoke we were beside the house; and Nanny receiving scarcely any answer to her salutation, entered it without ceremony.

There we found Kate Connolly and the rescued John Tennisson. Neither of them certainly had as fine complexions as they once possessed, and both looked altogether very much as persons who had been and were similarly situated might be supposed to look. But there was a subdued and peaceful expression on their countenances, which could not fail to strike any one who had known them before they