obvious. Were they destined to receive no assistance? Had her messenger, already tired out by long and wearisome journeys, found his way over the bogs and morasses? Had the token he carried gained credence for his story, and had his story moved the heart of the Irish general? Were O'Neill's fleet horsemen now spurring fast over the moors to revenge the defeat of their comrades, and to deliver her from a captivity worse than that to which Captain Mac Dermott was condemned? Poor MacDermott! so gallant, so selfsacrificing! whither was he journeying now? Was his parting wish that they should meet again ever to be gratified? Surely not, if she were conveyed to the hated home, whose hospitality was so disagreeably forced upon her. Oh, for a ruse which would gain one hour's delay, within which the white bannerets of the Ulster cavalry might be fluttering along the wooded shore!

She could devise no better expedient for deferring the moment of departure than to multiply, as far as she might, their preparations, and to execute them as slowly as she dared. Breakfast was ordered, and albeit her appetite was not of the keenest, she lingered over the meal as if she relished it exceedingly. Then she had to dress her sister for the journey, and after this her own toilet should be made. Lucas Plunkett ground his teeth in his impatience; he could see the glistening armour of the escort that awaited him, and could almost fancy that he heard the stamping of the fretful horses, and the muttered curses of their impatient riders.

"Look you, Mary," he cried, at length, addressing his cousin. "I will go again on shore, to quiet the impatience of the soldiers that await us. Be ready when I return; I must insist upon your accompanying me without an instant's delay."

It was at least another quarter of an hour gained! And, welcome sight! the red disk of the sun began to rise slowly from behind the trees that nodded on the Leinster hills! May heaven lend speed to the riders who must be already hurrying to their aid!

If Lucas Plunkett had been previously eager to begin his journey; the wish was intensified by the greeting he received from the commander of the small body of horse that waited for him.

"Gads zooks, sir! will you have us remain here till O'Neill's prickers come to set us in motion? Our main body is already half an hour's ride in advance of us. In ten minutes I follow them. If we have not the honour of your company, you alone are to blame."

Plunkett muttered an unintelligible apology, promised to return. within the time marked out, and sped back towards the castle with all the rapidity his rowers could command. He rushed up the stairs which led to the apartment occupied by his cousins, and in terms which admitted of no remonstrance, bade them instantly descend.

Half blind by the tears she struggled to suppress, Mary Dillon supported her pale and trembling sister down the rugged staircase. As they crossed the threshold, a shudder passed through the tiny form that leaned upon her, and she turned to her cousin to make another appeal in behalf of her feeble sister. But her words fell unheeded on the ear of Lucas Plunkett. His eyes were riveted on the shore.

There was a movement visible among the expectant horsemer; a good deal of prancing and plunging; and then the horses turned towards the wood; and rank after rank disappeared among the

trees.

"The devi!!" explained Plunkett, angrily, "they wish to frighten us into haste. Come, come, you have delayed us beyond all patience," and he seized the invalid child by the arm, and hurried her towards the boat.

"Quick! quick!" he cried to the boatmen, as soon as the skiff had received its freight; "a crown to each if we gain the strand in five minutes!"

The rowers bent to their work with hearty good-will, and soon they had gained the middle of the channel that separated the island from the shore.

"Ha! I knew they but played a trick upon us," exclaimed Plunkett, joyously; "they are at their post again."

Mary raised her head and caught a glimpse of a line of horsemen in front of them. They were but imperfectly visible, standing, as they did, in the shadow of the tall trees. Kathleen, too, had caught sight of the dreaded soldiers, doubly dreaded and doubly abhorred, now that they had slain her father. She threw herself, weeping and sobbing, into her sister's arms, and implored her to save her from the sight of those ferocious men. Her alarm concentrated upon her the attention of both her guardians; they had eyes or ears for nothing else till the boat grated on the pebbles of the beach.

"Arrived at length!" cried Plunkett gaily, springing from the boat. "To horse! to horse! Let O'Neill and his hobellers follow if they list, they will—"

him.

Overtake you ere the race begins," said a quiet voice beside

There was something in the measured, unimpassioned tones in which the words were uttered, that roused even Mary Dillon to attention. She looked up in surprise at the speaker. He was within a few yards of her, seated on a charger whose dark, glossy skin was streaked with waves of foam. He was clad in complete armour, and his features were partially concealed by his helmet. Behind him two lines of cuirassiers were sitting motionless in their high saddles, silent and mysterious as their leader. From the lines of the troopers the lady's glance again reverted to their commander, and now her heart bounded with a thrill of strange joy. On the saddle-cloth, which covered the panting loins of the black steed, she observed that a blood-red human hand was traced upon a ground of white. clasped her hands together, and in the fervour of her thankfulness exclaimed aloud:

She

"Heaven be praised! they are the soldiers of O'Neill !" "The same, lady!" said the stranger, with a courteous exclamation. "If you would avail of their services, command them."

"May I speak with your general ?"

"He will wait upon you as soon as pressing duties permit him. Meantime, you would do well to seek shelter from the chill air. In

1

yonder cabin you will be better sheltered than you are here. If you will permit me, I will conduct you to it."

The speaker threw himself from his horse and offered his gauntleted hand to the lady to assist her out of the boat.

"Come, Kathleen, come! these are Captain MacDermott's soldiers," she whispered in her sister's ear.

The child looked up with an inquiring glance, and meeting the kind and sympathetic look the stranger bent upon her, she put her hand into his, and allowed him to lift her from the boat.

As they turned away from the beach, their conductor issued a whispered order to some of his followers near him, and then passed quietly on. While they went, Mary noticed, for the first time, that the wood was filled with armed horsemen. Detachments were moving silently through the trees, and groups of dismounted riders were standing by their reeking horses, talking quietly together over the incidents of the morning's ride. Their conductor led the way to the Biatach's cabin, and bidding some soldiers near make what provision they could for the ladies' comfort, he took his leave and withdrew. As soon as he quitted the cabin, he turned again to the water's edge. His followers were still standing where he had left them, and Lucas Plunkett, somewhat crest-fallen and abashed, stood between two of the troopers.

"Listen to me," said the officer, in his smooth, unimpassioned. tone, addressing the discomfited Plunkett, "if your baseness had its reward, you would be, ere now, dangling from a branch of the tree above your head. This punishment, so richly deserved, will not be inflicted now. For the present you are merely a prisoner, and such you shall remain, as long as the man you betrayed is a captive; but should the fiends to whom you betrayed him injure a hair of his head-I swear by Heaven! the instant I hear the news, the nearest tree shall be your gallows."

With a brief injunction to the guards in charge of the prisoner, and a few hurried words to the remainder of his following, he quitted the spot. The order had already gone forth, and the bands of horsemen were broken up, enjoying the agreeable disorder of an early bivouac. When he had made the round of the groups by the newly-kindled fires, the soldier who had first greeted them again presented himself before Mary Dillon and her sister. He doffed his helmet as he entered their presence, and disclosed a face striking if not handsome, which wore a careworn and wearied look, as if it were long since joy had been pourtrayed there.

'Will General O'Neill soon be here?" asked Mary.

"He is before you, lady," was the reply.

In the first outburst of her gratitude, the young girl threw herself on her knees before the soldier, and in earnest words poured forth her thanks for the services which had been rendered her.

"Your thanks are not due to me, lady," said O'Neill; "reserve them for him who deserves them best. He is one of the bravest soldiers I have the honour to command. You have won his heart. is a treasure of which you are worthy, but of which you may well be proud."

It

A deep blush acknowledged the compliment.

O'Neill continued: "And now in regard to your futur ments. For your own sake, as well as for the sake of the bra I have lost, I am disposed to do everything that lies in my aid you. Command my services, as far as I can offer them.'

"It was my father's dying wish," replied Mary, "that w be conveyed to our mother's relatives at Limerick; if you co us to reach that town, we should owe a deeper debt of gratit we owe already."

The soldier paused for a few moments.

"Lady," he answered, at length, "the road to Limerick to you, but it is closed to me. The presence of my banne surround your journey with perils. I will, however, send a with you to Athlone. A kinsman of your own, if I mistake n the castle. For the remainder of your journey you will be saf his protection than mine."

A few hours later, Miss Dillon and her sister, accompa an escort of Irish cavalry, were on their way to the castle of Beyond the woods of Duneevin they encountered regiments men and musketeers struggling forward towards the bivouac Irish horse. Cordial greetings passed between the soldiers at them and the sturdy kernes that trudged onward lazily under th burden of pike or musket. They themselves were greeted wit a cheer, or boisterous "God speed," as they passed the Ulst ments. They felt lonely and downcast when they had left th guard of the army behind and were alone upon the moors, and lonely when their escort gave them a parting salute at the draw of Athlone Castle, and then clattered noisily away through the

streets.

IN THE VALE OF GLENOMRA.*

HAVE fled from the noisy city,

Where men rush to and fro,

To this fair and tranquil valley,
Where the murmuring waters flow.

For my heart, once strong and hopeful,
Grows sadder day by day,

As fresh scenes of sin and sorrow
Come thronging round my way.

And from 'mid the din and tumult
My thoughts oft wander far,
In hope of peace and respite
From life's unceasing war.