LOVE-MAKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES.

WHEN Fred Daly came of age he found himself the proprietor of a fine estate in the County Cork, and the inheritor of an immemorial hatred for the owner of the adjoining property, Squire Castleton, of Castleton Hall. The origin of the feud between the two families was so exceedingly remote, that young Daly had never thought of inquiring into the nature of it. His father had often impressed upon him that it was a duty which he owed to himself and to his ancestors never to speak to one of the Castletons. His mother died shortly after his birth. He was about leaving school when his father departed this life, and having dutifully attended the funeral of his sire, he was sent by his guardians to Trinity College, Dublin. He remained at this seat of learning till the period of his minority had expired, when he punctually abandoned the groves of Academus for a residence in the county of the groves of Blarney. He entered upon the possession of his estates amid the enthusiastic demonstrations of a delighted tenantry, and commenced the congenial occupation of "living like a gentleman."

Young Daly was probably as indiscreet a squire as could be found in the whole of Munster. The most alarming indiscretion which he committed after his installation was that of falling desperately in love with the only daughter of his hereditary enemy, Castleton. This glaring impropriety entailed a number of minor indiscretions, such as clandestine meetings, secret communications, and a whole train of other proceedings incidental to the situation. Kate Castleton approved highly of the young squire's suit, and aided him in planning secret excursions, and obtaining private interviews in a way that was perfectly marvellous, and reflected the highest credit on her French education. Old Castleton had been kept completely in the dark, and six months after the first meeting of the lovers, had no more suspicion of their loves than you had before you commenced reading this story.

His man Mike

Daly was throwing some shawls and rugs into a two-oar boat that was half on the strand and half in the water. was fixing a gig-cushion in the stern.

"Will yer honour want me wid ye?" said Mike. "Certainly not. You may go to the devil till nine o'clock." "Thank yer honour; but as that same ould gintleman lives in a mighty dhry place, p'raps ye'd be after givin' me the price av lookin' what time it is by Dinny Moran's clock on the way."

"Is everything in? the gun and the prog?"

"Every mortial thing, sor."

"Then shove her off."

In a few minutes Fred Daly was pulling along the edge of the bay," as the natives call the long, narrow strip of salt water that runs inland from the sea. He had pulled about a mile when he came to a little creek, for which he made. As the boat bumped on the pebbles, Kate Castleton emerged from some convenient recess, and ran to meet her lover, who had jumped from the boat. She was a very fascinating girl of the true Irish type, improved by French polish. She was suitably arrayed in a yachting costume of blue serge, with the accompanying white collar of impossible width, and the miniature sailor's knot. She wore a nautical hat over a coiffure of rich brown hair, and her expressive features were lit up by a pair of soft blue eyes.

Having enacted the ceremonies and indulged in the observations which are, I am informed, common to all such meetings, Daly lifted his lover into the boat, and was soon pulling out towards the middle of the "bay." Having got to a sufficient distance, he rigged up the little mast, and taking his seat beside Kate in the stern-sheets, the boat sped merrily over the placid water. "It's such an age since I saw you, Kate."

"Oh! a dreadful long time," said Kate.

"And in reality it's only a short time, you know, for I saw you last night. But I'm bored to death in this place when you're not with me."

"And I'm sure I'm far more miserable than you; you have your dogs, and your pipes, and your gun-I have nothing."

"Oh yes you have. You have yourself; what more could you want but a looking-glass? and I have no doubt you possess several."

Kate tossed her head and turned away from her lover; he was obliged to pass his arm round her waist and restore her good humour by a kiss. It really is wonderful the objection women have to the mention of a looking-glass.

"Where are you going to take me this evening, Fred?"

"The voyage, my lovely skipper, which has so auspiciously commenced, will be one of great interest. We will go right out to the Wreck Rock, and then, if you're not too tired, and if it's not too late, we'll tack round by The Stags' at Townsend harbour, and then-sorrowful to relate-home again!"

"But isn't it very rough out there?-and this is such a tiny boat, Fred," asked Kate, timidly.

"Out there it's as smooth as oil, dear. I had it settled on pur

pose; and as for this craft, why it's a perfect Noah's Ark, without the beasts."

The boat glided on softly through the quiet water, that hissed and bubbled at the prow. Kate sat silently gazing at the sea-birds as they waved their white wings in the golden light of the setting sun. Fred was gazing at his own image reflected in the wide blue eyes of the girl he loved so dearly. What more could be desired in life? And Kate felt that, for her part, she had reached the very climax of enjoyment and content. It was a moment of great bliss and sentimentality. Fred's eyes wandered down from the lovely face to one of the gilt buttons on Kate's jacket; there was evidently something on his mind.

"Kate," he whispered, in soft tones. "Yes, Fred."

"May I smoke?"

"Of course you may."

"Will you smoke? I have two pipes. I wish you would. It would be so sympathetic, you know."

"Oh, Fred, how can you? The nasty thing, I wouldn't touch it," she exclaimed, as Daly drew a short black "cutty" from his pocket; "but if you make me a tiny cigarette, I'll take just one puff to oblige you."

The cigarette having been manufactured with great care and the pipe filled, the enamoured pair again relapsed into silence, Fred looking dreamily through the clouds of bird's-eye at Kate's dainty little puffs from the cigarette.

Meanwhile the boat was steadily nearing Wreck Rock, so called from the fact that "a goodly ship" had gone to pieces there a hundred years back-a cheerful incident of which Daly took care not to remind Kate. The rock, or group of rocks, had a grim appearance, standing black and solitary in the mouth of the "bay." The sea-birds called plaintively over it, and the water broke at its base with a monotonous growl. On the face of the rocks, looking towards the open sea, a large angular cave drank in the swell of the waves as they swept up. This was believed by the simple fisher-folks to be an entrance to purgatory, and was known by a few of them to open into the basin-like centre of the crags.

The boat with its happy occupants was now at the only landingplace on the shore side. Down went the little sail noiselessly, and in a moment, for Fred had the sail rigged on a plan of his own, so that he could command both it and the rudder at pleasure. The cigarette was out, but the pipe was working like a furnace as the boat glided smoothly into the narrow inlet. Daly lifted Kate from the boat, lowered the mast, pulled the craft into a sheltered fissure, and secured it. He then proceeded to help Kate across the outer

rocks, and arrived without accident at the hollow centre space which Daly termed a nest.

"Now, Kate, isn't it beautiful?"

"I confess I don't like it, Fred. Where does this great big hole lead to?"

"Well, not to heaven-it's the entrance of a cave which the people on the shore believe is connected with the other place."

"Oh, how very dreadful. It's like a horrible Jack the Giant Killer story.

Kate gave a little theatrical shudder. "I'm so sorry you don't like it.

I thought it was awfully jolly

or I would not have brought you. Look at the beautiful view of-well of the azure vault- Hallo, it's not very azure now.

By Jove what a change all in a moment. sprinkle."

It looks like a

A large drop fell upon Kate's cheek at that moment.

"This is terrible," she said, gazing at the black rocks. "I'm sure it's going to thunder-I feel it is. Oh Fred, dear Fred, do take me back."

"But my darling we must wait until the shower passes overhave another pipe-I mean cigarette-meantime let us get into the mouth of this old cave."

"No, no, Fred!" cried Kate, shrinking back, "I don't like it— its worse than the rain."

"Well, here's a place!" and they crept into a sheltered nook formed by large boulders.

Kate, with Fred's outer jacket wrapped over her head and round her shoulders, nestled closely to her lover's side. Presently the rain came pelting down in heavy showers-pattering on the rocks and hissing in the sea-the thunder muttered at a distance. Byand-bye a bright flash lit up the metallic dullness all around. Kate shuddered, and hid her face in Fred's waistcoat.

"Don't be alarmed, dear," whispered the swain, encouragingly, "it's only like shooting off a lot of guns. Cheer up like a good fellow-I mean girl-it's nearly over now."

Kate only pressed more closely to him with her arms tightly clasped round his, as though she dreaded being dragged away. The dark clouds had closed in with rapidity, and from the place of shelter nothing was visible but the vast stretch of blue-black cloud, tinged here and there with a dull copper light that spoke of a heavy storm. The evening had grown as dark as night-flash after flash, and peal after peal, were accompanied by rain that came down in torrents. Fortunately the lovers were crouching on a raised piece of stone, which kept them out of the pools that on

every side were rapidly filling-and they were tolerably well sheltered by the immense pillars and roof of broken rock.

Kate nestled like a scared little bird. Fred looked wistfully into the dark mouth of the cave and smoked calmly like a philosopher. Before long the storm had expended its fury; the thunder ceased, and the gloom was unbroken by vivid flashes. But the rain poured down with renewed violence like tears after a spent passion.

"Are you better, Kate?" "Yes, dear Fred. love you so much.

You're good and kind to protect me, and I I only wish papa would try "-utterance was

checked by sobs-but the lady's meaning was evident.

"He's sure to come round some day. Something's sure to happen to change his hostility—and if something doesn't happen― why we must run away, that's all.

There was a pause.

"You're sure you love me, Kate?"

Kate, notwithstanding her uncomfortable position, flung her arms round Fred's neck. Both suddenly started out of this embrace. "Hush!" said Kate, trembling, "what's that noise?"

That would

"I don't know-my own-I thought it was a boat landing on the far side of the rock-only it seemed in the cave. be impossible, I fancy."

"Oh perhaps it's pa come to look for me!"

Begorrah that's the hardest night I've been out in this many a day, this rain 'ud damp the powdher av O'Connell himself. Bad cess to thim limpets. Bring up the bottle, Paudeen."

A voice was heard distinctly in the cave uttering these words. Kate gave a faint scream, but Daly placed his fingers on her lips and whispered in her ear:

"For Heaven's sake don't let them hear you, Kate. They're smugglers, and we mustn't see them. When we can move without being noticed we'll slip down to the boat. Keep up your heart, darling."

"Faix, Dan," said the voice in the cave, "it's a bad night to sind a man to the other world in."

"The worse the betther," was the hoarse reply."Hasn t he been robbin' the poor right an' left-what's takin' rint, only robbin'."

"Divil a ha'porth else, Roddy-but what's the plan av the play to-night?"

"Nothin' till the gun's dhry. Bad manners to thim ould flints. Plase God we'll have a choice av some nice muzzles whin we get in at the Hall. But listen to me, boys (Dan pass the crathur this way)-whin ye get up to the Hall, two av yez must stick to the