No need to seek Him far away,

He dwells where they remain,
With humble souls He loves to stay
'Mid sickness, want, and pain.

The poor, the friendless, and despised-
The outcast and the low:

Make these your friends, you'll be surprised
How holy soon you'll grow.

God bless the poor man and his home,
His little ones and all!

God bless his steps where'er he roam,
At Labour's ceaseless call.

God bless his toil and bless his rest,
His life and daily part :

'Tis such that Jesus loves the best,
The favourites of His Heart.

THE CHANCES OF WAR.

BY A. WHITELOCK.

CHAPTER XIX.

A MARAUDING PARTY.

"Whispering with white lips, "The foe-they come, they come !'"

Childe Harold.

FROM the apartment of O'Neill we pass to a council-chamber of a different character. It is not a very dignified one, albeit the members of the council are, some of them, of high military rank. It is, in fact, a cattle-shed from which the four-footed occupants have been lately ejected. There is neither chair nor table within it. The president of the council, a tall man, in the uniform of an officer of cuirassiers, is standing by the door, the polished surface of his pouldron indented in the moist earthen wall of the ricketty building, his eyes fixed on the streams of muddy water which a heavy shower had sent coursing across the farm-yard. His subordinates occupy the interior of the shed, seated or stretched on piles of straw in various attitudes of negligent

ease.

"What i' the devil's name tempted our worthy Lord President to send us on this fool's errand?" asked the officer by the doorway, in a fretful tone. "The cattle are not worth the trouble of driving away, and that old otter's den in the river is unreachable, and were not worth the trouble of rifling, could we get at it."

The question was not directed specially to any individual present. A gray-bearded veteran who was making futile attempts to maintain the dignity of a major of horse on a pile of litter, undertook the responsibility of answering.

"Not without deep reason have we been despatched hither, Major Ormsby," he said, gravely. "It hath gone abroad through the land that even within this house sojourneth a recusant priest-a minister

of false doctrine, who instructeth the people unto death, and doth mightily uphold the abominations of Baal against the light of the New Gospel."

The first speaker smiled grimly at the explanation of his superior's conduct suggested by his confederate.

"I deny not, Storey," he replied, with some irony, "that Sir Charles is a man of zeal exceeding great, and that he has laboured, not without fruit, for the spreading abroad of the truth. But I doubt if his zeal would induce him to send three squadrons of horse a distance of fifty miles, merely to deliver the true Church from the attacks of an old monk, whose most dangerous operations are the aves he recites for the downfall of heresy and the exaltation of the Pope."

"Thou dost measure the works of light by the erring standard of the wisdom of the flesh," responded the other, solemnly. "Better, yea, better far is he who hast destroyed even the least pillar of the great iniquity of Rome, than he who, in the power of the sword, shall have taken many walled cities."

"Your arguments have their plausibility," returned Ormsby, "and could, at the proper time, much comfort the hearts of our troopers to whom you break the bread of the Word. I am content, if you will, to believe that Sir Charles has sent us hither specially on the pious mission which you mention. I fear me, however, that we shall not be able to render to the Gospel the service demanded of us. The priest is just so far removed that our arms are not long enough to reach him. If it will make amends for this disappointment to know that this visit is likely to cause his reverence and his entertainers to enjoy an early Lent, I can promise you that their fasts will begin very soon. When we have rested long enough to go, we will not leave behind us on this spot food for a sparrow or shelter for a hound."

"Therein wilt thou have done a goodly work," answered the veteran. "Natheless, unwillingly do I forego the merit of cutting off another of them which scatter tares in the wheat-field of the Lord."

"And be there not treasures, too, within those ugly walls which might gladden carnal eyes that have not yet opened to the light ?" laughingly inquired a young cornet, stretched at full length on the straw. "I am yet of the unconverted, and I would venture on a raft across the flood to yon wild eyrie to get a glimpse of the doves that they say are caged within it. If thou wilt hazard for the uprooting of the congregation of Satan, as much as I will in a less holy cause, we may even yet compass the capture of the island. What say you, worthy Major?" asked the challenger, raising himself from his indolent posture. "Doth the Sampson of Israel shrink from the challenge of the Philistine? Has the mighty one of Judah been vanquished by the uncircumcised?"

The challenge excited the attention and provoked the merriment of the officers assembled. The major was nettled by the tone of banter in which he was addressed, and piqued to observe that the profanity of his subordinate found favour in the eyes of his comrades. Twisting his gray moustaches, he answered:

"It is written that a stripling prevailed against the giant, yet did

he this in the might of the Lord, not in the puffing up of carnal passion. Young man, I will go forth with thee against the walls of this Popish Jerico. But, even as it was commanded to the chosen ones of old, so shalt thou mortify thy carnal vanity before we blow our trumpets at its gates. Hope not," he added, sternly, "to indulge thy follies when thou drawest the sword with me. Should the walls fall before us, I will myself lead forth the Canaanites whom we do not smite with the edge of the sword."

A smile played on the bronzed and rugged features of the group of officers. It was shrewdly suspected that, notwithstanding his professions of austere piety, the major could play the gallant when it did not interfere with his mission of edifying the lambs of the flock. On the present occasion, his determination to encourage self-denial in his associate was not attributed by his friends to disinterested zeal; and this suspicion was plainly expressed upon their features. Considerably amused by the challenge so strangely given and accepted, and interested in the result of the adventure, most of the officers quitted the stable to assist in the execution of it. Trunks of trees were rolled down to the water's edge, lashed together with ropes, and planks torn from the buildings of the farm-yard were nailed over them. The work went on rapidly, and soon several rafts, capable of carrying a large storming party, were ready. The wind had fallen, the transit could be effected without much risk. The castle had no cannon to render the approach perilous, and once in the shallow water, a score of iron-covered cavaliers would easily dispose of the mob of servants by which it was garrisoned.

By the inmates of the castle these preparations were viewed with the utmost consternation. The inhuman cruelty with which the roving bands of Parliamentarian horse treated the mere Irish who fell into their hands was well known to them, and the prospect of meeting with these dreaded marauders inspired the handful of servants by whom the house was defended with the wildest terror. Nor was gentle birth and high rank always a protection against the violence of the lawless soldiery. The master of Duneevin castle and his family had therefore, much reason to fear for their own personal safety, if the attack which was preparing succeeded.

"I will go and offer them the plunder of the house!" exclaimed Arthur Dillon to his daughter. "It is useless to attempt resistance. Lives will be lost, and we shall be robbed all the same."

"Do not go! Do not go, father!" cried his younger daughter, clasping his hand with frenzied passion. "They will kill you. I have seen it in my dreams-I did not say it before. Oh! it was dreadful! Do not go! Do not go, I implore you!"

"Have no fear, Kathleen," returned her father, caressing the child while he spoke. "They seek our property, not our lives. You must not be frightened if some of these rough soldiers accompany me when I return.'

"No, no, do not leave us!" moaned the child, heedless of the encouraging words, and occupied only with the picture which filled her excited fancy. "The cries they raised were piercing, and so sad, so

very sad! They are ringing in my ears, the wind has been repeating them ever since."

It was only with an effort, that Arthur Dillon could shake off the ominous feeling which came over him at his daughter's words.

"Talk your sister into reason, Mary," he said, with an effort to be cheerful. "I will return soon to drive these dark fancies from her head. Good-bye, Kathleen, try to have a smiling face to meet me when I come back."

The child tried to respond to these cheering words with a smile, but it was useless, she could not force even a counterfeit look of hope or pleasure into her pale features. She hid her face on her sister's breast, and did not raise it again till the boat that carried her father had quitted the island.

Arthur Dillon was a good deal surprised to observe that the preparations which had forced him to the step he was taking were abandoned almost as soon as he quitted the castle stairs. The half-finished rafts were left floating in the water, the troopers engaged in the construction of them retired into the wood, and soon the glancing of their armour at different points along the shore showed that they thought not of resuming their task. He concluded that the purport of his coming had been understood, and that the storming party had given up their preparations because they perceived them to be unnecessary.

A conversation which had meantime occurred in the stable where the attack was concerted will better explain why it was abandoned.

Whilst his officers were busy by the shore of the lake, the Parliamentarian commander remained alone in the shed. He was comparatively indifferent to the success of the adventure. The taking of the castle might somewhat increase the booty he would carry off; but as a military fortress the building was worthless. It was too small to accommodate an effective force, and its garrison, if the country around were occupied by an enemy, could easily be starved into surrender. Thinking over this he determined, if it fell into his hands, to secure all the plunder it offered, and to leave the inhabitants who might survive the eventualities of the attack to enjoy the comforts of bleak walls and empty larders when he had gone.

He was busy at his calculations when a gentleman in the dress of a civilian entered. Raising his eyes so as to catch a glimpse of his visitor, the Parliamentarian officer observed, carelessly: "They are going to intrude on your friend's solitude, Plunkett, to force him out of his reserve. Storey and young Crosby intend to cross on rafts with a storming party."

"You dare not permit it," answered Plunkett, excitedly. "It is more than your orders warrant you in doing."

"Dare is a bold word," returned the officer, superciliously. "I do sometimes dare strange things without the orders, and even contrary to the wishes of the Lord President. If the armed hand has sometimes carried its rose* behind the coot, it does not for that reason owe to any one an explanation of every blow it strikes, and believe me that wily bird is far too prudent to ask it."

* An allusion to the crest of the Ormsbys.