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for a sound, a breath, he sowld his sowl. But the curses that fell that day-" added he, closing his hands, and grinding his teeth, while he still seemed to struggle with feelings, which were giving the vehemence of insanity to his voice and its wildness to his look; when the Commodore, taking off his hat, as if to give coolness to his fervid brow, fixed his eye on him. O'Leary tottered back a few steps: his colour faded, his countenance lost its expres sion of fierceness; he several times drew his hand across his eyes as if to clear their vision; then stood gazing in silence for many minutes on the face of the stranger, which he now first beheld fairly revealed.

"You do not wish that the crimes of the father should bring curses on his children, O'Leary," said the Commodore, in a tranquil voice, " if indeed the late Baron Fitzadelm has been guilty of crimes which merit execration?"

O'Leary remained silent: his mind seemed in abeyance: every other sense was condensed in one: his lips moved, but he uttered no sound: he stood motionless, till his eyes, dazzled by the intensity of their gaze, obliged him to press his fingers on their aching lids..

"But," continued the Commodore, putting on his hat, and losing much of the character of his face by concealing its finest features, 66 but, O'Leary, if you persist in believing me to be Lord Adelm Fitzadelm, say, is the son a wellchosen confidant of his father's misdeeds? or if you cannot keep the secret of your own indignant feelings, how may I expect you will keep my secret? that is, supposing I were the Lord Adelm, or any other person, O'Leary, whose interest it is to keep their real name unknown till certain purposes be effected. The absence of discretion, O'Leary, may render even the zeal of affection abortive. But come, time

wears, and time is precious: I will leave the arrangement of the friary to your care: I must now away to Mr. Crawley's. My host of Dunore tells me that it will be difficult to obtain an interview with your powerful portrieve after twelve: you shall shew me the way to Mount Crawley, and we will talk of the great Macarthies More as we walk along, the descendants of the Tyrian Hercules, the powerful chiefs of Des. mond."

The spirits of O'Leary rallied at this watch-word of the imagination: he looked round as one suddenly awakened from some strange vision of the night, and mechanically followed the stranger across the chauntry into the cemetery of St. John's, where the boy, to whose care he had delivered his horse, was still leading it about.-" Bring your master his hat," said the Commodore, taking the reins of his horse. "You shall walk a mile of the way with me, O'Leary, and then return to your busi

ness, to which I must and am resolved not to be an hindrance."

The boy returned with the hat, which O'Leary suffered him to put over his little wig, now all awry. Plunged once more in deep cogitation, he walked silently beside his new tenant, snatching at intervals an eager glance at his person, and then shaking his head, debating as it were some point within himself; and at last clasping his hands behind his back, and exclaiming aloud, as he paced on heavily-"Sure kin may liken kin; and no marvel in that, any how: only it all lies in the upper part of the face: and that was his mother's. The dark eyes, Milesian born. The great O'Sullivan Bear's daughter coming from the Luceni in Spain, of Scythian origin, and died of a broken heart, in the sorrowful chamber, so called to this day, only fallen to ruin, why wouldn't she, the cratur! and her own child first turning

* Resemble,

out to be Judy Laffan's; and then, when that wouldn't do, the country being well insensed* to the contrary, reported to be dead, and taken from her: and an hard case it was, as she said to my wife on her death-bed, God rest her for they'd all desarted the court, barring the bailiff's for the execution, laving her to die with only the child's nurse to wet her lips. And a hard case it is to lose one child, Susheen,' said she, as she gave the prayer-book that had the certificate of Mr. De Montenay's birth and marriage in it, that's her own marriage with my lord, thinking, God help her, that it might be of use to the child one day (which it never will), and sending it to the friar Denis O'Sullivan Finn, her own kinsman at Dunkerron, for my lady was a Catholic by birth, and —”

"O'Sullivan," interrupted the Commodore, "is still in Cork, I suppose; but the book of course lost, if that were of any consequence now.”

* Aware, acquainted,

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