"Well--I wor; I suppose, Mr. Thady, you're not going to threaten me with the magisthrate again. I wor wishing it--an' I do wish it; he was the hardest man on the poor--an' the cruelest ruffian I iver knew. Isn't there my brother, that niver even acted agin the laws in the laste thing in life,--the quietest boy, as you know, Mr. Thady, anywhere in the counthry, an' who knew no more about stilling than the babe that's unborn; isn't he lying in gaol this night all along of him? an' it an't only him; isn't there more? many more in the same way, in gaol all through the counthry; an' who but him put 'em there?

I do wish he was for-a-nens't me this moment, an' that I might lave him here as cowld a corpse as iver wor stretched upon the ground!"

"I tell you, Joe, av you had your wish--av you struck the blow, and the man you so hate was dead beneath your feet, you'd give all you had--you'd give your own life to see him agin, standing alive upon the ground, and to feel for one moment that you'd not his blood to answer for."

"By G----d! no, Mr. Thady; I'm not so wake; and as for answering for his blood, by the blessed Virgin, but I'd think it war a good deed to rid the counthry of such a tyrant."

"He'll niver act the tyrant again, Joe, for he is dead. I struck him down with my stick in the avenue at Ballycloran, this night, and he niver moved agin afther I hit him."

"The holy Virgin save us! But are you in arnest, Mr. Thady? D'ye main to say he's dead--that you killed him?" And after walking on a little, he said,--"By the holy Virgin, I'd sooner it had been myself; for I could have borne the thoughts of having done it better than you are like to do. An' what did you do with the body?"

"Brady took it into Carrick."

"And does Brady know it war you did it?"

"Yes, they all know it--father and all; what was the use of telling a lie about? Feemy was with him when I struck him."

"And war she going off with him? Niver mind, Mr. Thady, niver mind; it's a comfort to think you've saved your sisther from him, an' you know what a ruffian he was. By all the powers of glory there's a weight off my mind now I know he's not escaped from the counthry, where he caused so much misery, and did so much ill. But I'd a deal sooner it had been I that done it than yourself."

"I wish it war not done at all--I wish he were alive this day. What will I do now, Joe?"

"Faix, that's the question; any way, this is not the place for you any longer; they'd have you in Carrick Gaol before to-morrow night, av you were not out of this, an' far out of this too."

"Where is it you have the stills, Joe? Av I were there, couldn't I be safe, for a little time at laste, till I got some plan of getting entirely out of the counthry? Or may be when they hear the case, and how it all happened, they mightn't think it murder at all,--the Coroner I main; and then I could go home agin, or at any rate go away where I choose without hindrance; it's little I care where I was, so long as it's not in prison."

"I'm afraid, Mr. Thady, there's no hopes for you in that way. The magisthrates, with Jonas Brown at the head of them, will be a dail too willing to make a bad case of it, the divil mend them, to let you off; an' the only thing for you is, to keep out of their hands."

"Would they find me there, Joe, up in the mountains, where you have the stills?"

"They might, and they mightn't; but if you war there, an' they did find you, they'd be finding the stills too, an' the boys wouldn't like that."

"Where shall I go then? I thought you'd be able to help me. In heaven's name, what shall I do? the night's half over now; can't you think of any place where I might be, for to-morrow at any rate? I depended on you, Joe, and now you won't help me."

"There you're wrong. I'm thinking now, where is the best place for you: and by G----d as long as I can stick to you, I will; both becase you were always a kind masther to the poor, an' becase the man you killed war him I hated worse than all the world besides; but it's no asy thing to say where you'd be safest. D'you know Aughacashel, Mr.

Thady?"

"I niver was there, but I know that's the name of the big mountain over Loch Allen, to the north of Cash."

"Well, that's where the stills are mostly at work now, an' that's where I was to be myself, to-morrow evening; but now we must both be there before the sun's up, for no one must see us on the road. But, Mr. Thady, how'll I do about taking you there, when you wouldn't come to Mulready's to take the oath, which all must do afore they'll be allowed among the boys that is together, or as will be together there to-morrow evening?"

Thady then promised him, that when he reached their destination, he would take any or every oath that might be proposed to him; that he would join their society in every respect, whatever might be its laws, and that if they would a.s.sist him in his present condition by affording him whatever security might be in their power, he would faithfully conform to all their rules and regulations. So far did his fears and the agitated state of his mind overcome the great repugnance which still he felt to break the solemn promise he had given Father John, and which he had so faithfully intended to keep.

Reynolds reflected that though it was contrary to their regulations to bring a stranger to the haunts where his companions carried on their illegal trade, they could hardly be unwilling to give shelter to the man who had killed the enemy whom they all so cordially hated, and to murder whom they were all sworn; particularly when his present necessity of concealment arose from the fact of his having done so.

Reynolds had an idea of justice in his composition: he knew that had he murdered Ussher, his companions would have used every effort to conceal him, and to baffle his pursuers; and he was determined that they should do as much for Thady.

He went back to the cabin for Corney Dolan, and told him the story which he had just heard; and at about midnight the party started for the mountains.

Aughacashel is a mountain on the eastern side of Loch Allen, near the borders of the County Cavan--uncultivated and rocky at the top, but nevertheless inhabited, and studded with many miserably poor cabins, till within about a quarter of a mile of the summit. The owners of these cabins, with great labour, have contrived to obtain wretchedly poor crops of potatoes from the barren soil immediately round their cabins. To their agricultural pursuits many joined the more profitable but hazardous business of making potheen, and they were generally speaking, a lawless, reckless set of people--paying, some little, and others no rent, and living without the common blessings or restraints of civilization: no road, or sign of a road, came within some miles of them; Drumshambo, the nearest village, was seven or eight miles distant from them; and although they knew that neither the barrenness of their locality, nor the want of means of approach would altogether secure them from the unwelcome visits of the Revenue police or the Constabulary, still they felt sure that neither of these inimical forces could come into their immediate neighbourhood, without their making themselves aware of their approach, in time to guard against any injury which they might do them, either by removing all vestiges of their trade, or by sending those who were in fear of being taken up, into the more inaccessible portions of the mountain.

On the western side of Aughacashel, immediately over Loch Allen, and about half way between the lowlands and the summit, a kind of rude limekiln had been made, apparently for the purpose of burning lime for the neighbouring land; but the very poor state of the rocky ground about, which gave signs of but little industry, afforded evidence that the limekiln had not added much to the agricultural wealth of the country. It was now at any rate made use of for other purposes, for it was in here that Joe Reynolds at present usually worked his still. There were only two cabins immediately close to it; one of which was occupied by a very old man and his daughter, but in which Corney Dolan and Reynolds resided, when they were away from Drumleesh; and the other belonged to another partner in the business, who considered himself the owner of the limekiln, and the head of the party concerned in it. This man's name was Daniel Kennedy, and to the reckless, desperate contempt of authority and hatred of those who exercised it, which characterized Reynolds, he added a cruelty of disposition, and a love of wickedness, from which the other was much more free.

This was the place to which his two guides were now conducting Thady, and where it was proposed that he should, at any rate for some time, conceal himself from those, who, it was presumed, would soon be scouring the country in search of him. It was now a bright moonlight night, and the three men hurried across the country with all the haste they could make. Little was said between them as they went, excepting observations made between Joe and his comrade, as to the characters and occupations of the residents in the various cabins by which they pa.s.sed. After going for some considerable way across fields and bogs and bottom lands, they came out on a lane, running close round a small lake lying in the bed of the low hills which rose on the other side of it. The water was beautifully calm, and the moon shining immediately down upon it, gave it the appearance of a large surface of polished silver. At this spot the fields came close down to the road, and also to the water, and in the corner thus formed stood a very small poor cabin.

This lake was Loch Sheen, and it was in that cabin that Ussher had apprehended Tim Reynolds and the two other men, little more than a fortnight ago.

Joe stopped a moment when he reached the spot, till Thady, who was following the other man, had come up, and then, pointing to the low door, close to which he stood, said,

"The last deed as that ruffian did as now lies so low was in that cabin. It war there he sazed Tim, an' dragged him off with ropes round his arms, an' sent him to Ballinamore Bridewell, an' all for 'spaking a few words of comfort to an owld woman he'd known since he war a little child. I swore, Mr. Thady, that that man should be put beneath the sod before the time came round that Tim should be out agin; an' this very night I war a grieving in my heart to think that he war out of the country safe an' merry--ready agin to play the same b.l.o.o.d.y game with them among he war going; an' that I should let him go without so much as making one effort to keep my word with him!

By G----d, Mr. Thady, quare as you may think it, who are now so low within yerself with what you've done, that thought was heavy on my heart this night. Had I known what way he war to travel, I'd followed him, had it been for days an' nights, till I had got one fair blow.

By dad, he would niver have wanted a second. Corney what's the owld hag doing since her two sons is in gaol along with Tim?"

"Ah! thin, she's doing badly enough; she war niver from her bed since. Faix, Joe, they'll niver be out in time to bury her."

"Is it starving she is?"

"Well thin, I b'lieve that's the worst of it; that an' the agny, an'

no one to mind her at all, is enough to kill an owld woman like her."

"Niver mind," replied Joe, "it will be a comfort to her any way to hear that Ussher's gone before her; not but what they'll go to different places, though." And then, after a time, he added, "Ussher's black soul has gone its long journey this night with more curses on it than there are stones on these shingles. But come on, lads, we mustn't be standing here; we must be in Aughacashel before sunrise, or else they'll be stopping us as we pa.s.s through the counthry."

And again they went through the clear bright moonlight. They pa.s.sed Loch Sheen, and soon afterwards another little lake, lying also to the left of the road, and then they found themselves in the small village of Cashcarrigan. This they pa.s.sed through silently and quickly and without speaking a word, and having proceeded about half a mile on the road towards Ballinamore, they again left it and took to the fields. They went along the northern margin of Loch Dieney, running where the ground was hard enough, at other times stepping from one dry sod to another, through gaps and fences, which seemed as well known to Thady's guides as the cabins in which they had pa.s.sed their lives. They left Drumshambo to their left, and at about four in the morning they came to Loch Allen. Here they got upon a road which for some way skirts the eastern side of the lake, along which they ran for about a mile and a half, and then turned into a small boreen or path, and began to ascend the mountains.

"Asy boys, now," said Corney; "we're all right when we're here; an', by the powers! I'm hot," and the man began wiping his brow with his sleeve.

"What, Corney, you're not blown yet!" said the other, "an' here's Mr.

Thady as fresh as a four year old. Come along, man; the sooner he's got a snug room over his head the better he'll be. You forget he's not accustomed to be out all night, and take his supper of moonshine, as you are. Come along, Mr. Thady; you'll soon be where you'll get as good a dhrop as iver man tasted, an' you'll feel a deal better when you've got a gla.s.s or two of that stuff in you."

Thady, who, in spite of Joe's compliment as to his freshness, was so weary that he could hardly drag his legs along, and who had seated himself for a moment upon one of the big loose stones which were scattered over the side of the hill, again rose, and they all resumed their journey. They soon lost the track of the boreen, but they still continued to ascend, keeping by the sides of the loose built walls with which the land was subdivided. It was astonishing what labour had seemingly been wasted in piling wall after wall in that barren place, and that even in spots where no attempt had been made at tillage, and where the only produce the land afforded was the food of a few miserable sheep and goats, which it might be thought could have grazed in safety without the necessity for all those numerous fences.

These, however, after a time, ceased too; but just at the spot where the open mountain no longer showed any signs of man's handiwork, Dan Kennedy's lime-kiln was built, and immediately behind it were the two cabins of which we have before spoken.

It was at the door of the furthest of these two that Joe--did not knock--but raised the latch and rattled it. The old man within well knew the sign, and, getting out of bed, drew the wooden bolt, and admitted the three into the cabin. Though he did not expect Joe or Corney, and had not an idea who Thady was; and though Thady's dress, which was somewhat better than those worn by his usual a.s.sociates, must have struck him as uncommon, he made no remark, but hobbled into bed again, merely saying, in Irish, "G.o.d save ye kindly, boys! it's a fine night ye've had, the Lord be praised!" There was a second bed in the place--if a filthy, ragged cotton tick filled with straw, and lying on the ground, could be called a bed--in which the old man's daughter was lying. It was nearly dark now out of doors, for the moon had disappeared, and it was hardly yet six o'clock; but one of the men lighted a candle, of which there were two or three hanging against the wall. The girl was not asleep, for her eyes were wide open, looking at the party, but she seemed not at all surprised by their entrance, or at the addition to their usual numbers, for she lay quite quiet where she was, as if such morning guests in her bed-chamber were no unusual thing.

Joe now got a stool for Thady; and he and Corney sat down opposite the fire, while Reynolds drew a stone jar out from beneath the old man's bed--he seemed well to know the place where it was to be found--and reaching a cracked cup down from a shelf which was fixed into the wall over the fire-place, filled it with spirits and handed it to Thady. He swallowed a considerable portion of it and returned it, when Joe filled it again, finished the contents himself, and gave it again full to Corney, who in a very short time did the same.

"By gor," said the latter, "I wanted that; an' I tell you that's not bad work. Why, Mr. Thady--"

"Have done with your Misthers, Corney," said Joe, in a whisper, "let them find out who he is theyselves. They'll know soon enough, divil doubt them! there's no good telling them yet, any how."

"That's thrue, Joe; but as I was saying, that's not bad work; why, Mr. Thady--"

"Sorrow saze yer tongue, thin, ye born idiot!"

"Well, by dad, it comes so natural to me, Joe, to call him by his own name, that one can't help it; but it war only four o'clock when we left this, this blessed afthernoon--that is, yesterday afthernoon--an' since that we wor down at Mulready's, an' then at Drumleesh, an' now we're here agin; why how many miles is that?"

"Niver mind the miles; he"--and Joe pointed to Thady--"he has done a deal more than that in the same time--an' whatever comes of it, he did a good deed. Howsomever, if you'll take my advice, you'll take a stretch now. Meg!--I say, Meg,"--and he turned round to the girl who was lying in the corner--"get out of that, an' make room for this man to lie down. You've been asleep all night; make room for yer betthers now."

The girl, without grumbling, turned out of bed, and burthened with no feeling of conventional modesty, commenced and finished her toilet, by getting into an old ragged calico gown, and tying up, with a bit of antique tape, her long rough locks which had escaped from their bondage during her sleep. Thady for a long time resisted, but Joe at last was successful in persuading him to take advantage of the bed which Meg had so good-humouredly relinquished.

"I an' Corney have still-work to do afore daylight, an' we won't be back afore it's night," said Joe, "but do you bide here, an' you'll be safe. You must put up with the pratees this day, for there's nothing better in it at all; but I'll be getting something fitter for you by night; an' av' you feel low, which you'll be doing when you wakes, mind, there's the sperrits in the jar there undher the bed; a sup of it won't hurt you now an' agin, for indeed you'll be wanting it, by yerself here all day. An' look you,"--and he led him to the door as he spoke, and pointed to the two within--"they'll soon know who you are, an' all about it; but you needn't be talking to them, you know; an' you may be quite certain, that even should any one be axing about you, they'll niver 'peach, or give the word to the police, or any one else. Av you like to go out of this during the day, don't go further than the kiln; an' av you lie there, you could easily see them miles afore they war nigh you, even av anything should put it into their heads to think of coming afther you to Aughacashel."

The two guides then took their leave of him, and Thady laid himself down on Meg's bed, and, after a time, from sheer fatigue and exhaustion, he fell asleep.