ever get out of the bog-hole. But," added he-seeing Nell standing trembling and pale, and the old man gasping-"I'm afraid I have frightened you terribly. 'Tis a late hour to knock at a farmer's door; but your light looked so inviting, that, knowing the hospitality of the Western peasantry, I thought I might look for a welcome."

"And you're heartily welcome, sir," said Nell, recovering herself, "to whatever this poor place can afford. Slip off your great-coat, sir; it's as wet as if it'd been plunged in a slough. Make over to the fire, sir; the hearth itself will toast you. Let me dust that chair for you. Now make the best of it, sir, while I set on the kettle."

In bringing round the only chair their cabin boasted of, she managed, with extreme cleverness, to whisper a hurried sentence into Mick's ear. Whatever it was,

it startled him out of his lethargy, and he muttered to himself, "The voice was very like; I could have sworn to it."

Nell, with an unembarrassed manner, passed on to the stranger, and, bending over him as he seated himself, said softly, "Excuse my husband's want of hospitality, sir; his blindness makes him awkward."

The remark was scarcely necessary; the traveller was so busy with himself, getting off his wet boots and trying to dry his clothes, that having seen the old man at all, passed out of his mind. But, thus called on to notice him, he turned round, and, after looking at Mick for some time attentively, called out rather gaily

"Won't you take your seat and pipe, my good man, now that you know I am flesh and blood, like yourself, and no hobgoblin? Draw it over to me," continued he, seeing that Mick was about to place his stool in a remote position— "draw it over to me, and, while your good wife spreads her inviting refreshment, give me some news of all that has been going on in this wild place these years past. It's long since I've been here. What of your young lord? and when is he coming home?"

66

Coming home!" said Mick, like a man in a dream. "Never, I hope." The traveller started.

"If, indeed, his welcome is as warm elsewhere as it seems to be here, perhaps you hope for the best. But I thought you were a tenant of his ?"

"Now God forbid !" said the old man solemnly. "When I hear of his having set foot on Irish ground, I'm off of it. I live on his father's land, sure enough, given to me, by the old lord himself, while grass grows and water runs; but he can have it all to make what he likes of, if he returns. The same soil will never cover our dead bones."

"He's not likely to disturb you," drily remarked the stranger.

"I don't offend you, I hope," said Mick-"I don't offend you, I hope, sir? I'm a tried and suffering old man, and the remembrance of past wrongs and sorrows sometimes steals my senses away. I'll give you any news you like, sir, but not of the castle, nor of the castle folks. For the love of God, don't speak to me of them to-night, at all events, for there's a dread on me! You'd excuse me if you knew all, sir; indeed you would, sir."

With the utmost courtesy and well-bred politeness, the traveller apologized to the old man for having made any inquiries calculated to disturb him or render him unhappy; and, turning round at the well-timed invitation of Nell to have his

supper, he remarked, for the first time since he entered, pretty little Moll, who now appeared in a perfect ecstacy with the bird, which she bad dressed out with holly-berries.

"Why," said he, sipping the hot tea, which smoked deliciously before him, "whom have we here?-a little Christmas sprite, with golden curls and magical eyes? Come here, little one, and tell me who you are?"

The child advanced slowly towards him, as if very timid, dragging poor Jack, by the wing, along with her; but, gaining more confidence as she approached him, she held out her hand with a peculiar grace (for which she was remarkable in all her movements), and looked confidingly into his face.

He stooped and kissed her stealthily, and then gaily rattled on

"What! has the fairy no tongue? Won't you speak to me? Whose little child are you?"

"Our child in trust," croaked out the half-maimed Jack, startling the stranger into letting his cup fall; for, indeed, he had no idea, for some moments, whence the unearthly sound came.

"Now, curse on that bird!" shouted Mick, starting from the musing fit into which he had fallen-" curse on that shameless bird, wife! Nell, take it, take it, I say, and let it out into the darkness and storm, from whence it came. no more of its jabbering here. Out with it, out with it, I say, wife !"

I'll have

Nell stood irresolute; she wished to obey the impetuous old man, but she liked the bird. It was not his fault to speak out what he was taught, and he was the only playmate Moll ever had.

"Have you caught it, Nell?" cried Mick, stamping his foot passionately. "No hiding of it in baskets, but out with it, the shameless tell-tale !"

"Oh, Mick," said Nell (she spoke very softly), "you are in an odd humour. Do you forget that a stranger is present-a gentleman in every way? There was a time when you could speak to the best-born of the West. Calm yourself, good man. You see not" (in a whisper) "how suspiciously he looks at us now. Why, you betray yourself and her" (her voice grew softer still) "in every word. What will the gentleman think? Sit down and smoke awhile; quiet yourself, for God's sake! Why, you're not yourself at all, Mick; you tremble all over. Now the Virgin protect us! What is going to happen?"

"Nell, I can't be easy; it's no use trying. Sorrow lies as heavy in my heart this minute, as it did when

She pressed his hand.

"Well, I'll be silent; but my dream, Nell-and that voice, which you say is not his. Good God, if it were! If it were, Nell, I'd cleave his brain where he stands, blind as I am. I'd "

"Whose child is this?" said the stranger, sternly interrupting the muttered mouthings of the enraged old man. "No evasion, no prevarication-whose child is this?"

"Ours in trust," quoth Jack.

"My daughter's child," said the old man, confronting him proudly. "Your right to such a question ?"

"Your daughter's! And where is your daughter ?"

"Where?" shrieked Mick, in a voice of deep, deep woe. "Where! God alone knows."

"Where!" sighed Nell, throwing herself on her knees and lifting upwards her sorrowing eyes. "In Heaven, I hope."

"Dead!" said the stranger, becoming livid. "Do you say dead!" and ho grasped Nell's arm. "Tell me of her-all-all-from beginning to end? Do you hear me?"

Nell never stirred.

The stranger moved towards Mick, and, taking him gently by the arm, he led him to a stool, on which he forced him to sit, placing himself beside him; he stooped close to his car and said

Rouse yourself; for, by Don't be afraid; I know

"While she is praying, tell me all of your daughter. Heaven! I'll have her story before I leave this night. you, though you know me not; and I am the bearer of news better than you ever expected to hear."

The old man's face darkened; a scowl covered his brow.

His hands clenched, and his whole frame quivered with emotion. He tried to rise, but his trembling knees failed him; his head dropped on his bosom, and he hissed out between his teeth

"You'll have her story, as you have asked it. But better, deafness to your ears for ever, than you had listened to it; and better, darkness to your sight, than that you had seen the light of our fire through yonder door-chink."

"Go on," muttered the stranger-"your daughter's story!"

"Nell," said the old man, "come, sit by me."

Silently she rose from her knees; the tears streamed down her pallid face; and lifting up Moll, who was sobbing with fear, she kissed her repeatedly. Taking her seat behind her husband, she put her head upon his shoulder-more to support than be supported—and her arm round his neck, so lovingly, so protectingly, that he felt the touch, all soft and tender, thrill his heart. Older and happier days rose up before him; his brow cleared, his face brightened, tears fell from his sightless eyes, and his whole bearing proclaimed-"The love of a pure wife, like a magic wand, transformeth all things."

THE OLD MAN'S STORY.

"I was born and reared on the estate of the late Lord de Vere-may the Almighty bless him!—and, as I grew in years, he rewarded my fidelity by making me a sort of general superintendent over his property, as well as over those employed on it. The Lord, in his mercy, had given me a clear head as well as an honest heart; so that, even in matters of interest, the old lord confidentially consulted me. Were the hounds to meet ?-Mick Fahy would see all right. Was the castle to be filled with noble guests for the grouse-shooting ?-Mick Fahy would see every domestic at his post. Were tenantry to be ejected, or forgiven rent?-Mick Fahy gave his verdict in his lordship's study.

"In those days I had a good house, a rare garden-my cows, sheep, and poultry-and was what all the neighbours called a 'rising man.' Few occasions found me absent from my duties, exacted or self-imposed; and these few Nell, here, knew more of than any one else."

He turned his head towards her, while the blue eyes which looked up at him wore all the sweetness of loving recollections.

"When I brought her home a bride, any omissions that I may have been

guilty of were forgiven; and right heartily was she welcomed. The old lord himself came down to see her, bringing with him his niece, Miss Annie Eyrewhose sweet, gentle ways all loved and reverenced. They forthwith proclaimed that all the peasantry should have a gala-night, in honour of Mick Fahy's marriage and his wife's beauty. And, in truth, Nell, you were

His hand was pressed.

"Well, Nell, be it so. My tongue is rather old to praise the charms of thy youth, lit up, as they were, by purity and love; but I can feel what I can never again behold. May God bless you, and help me! But, as I was saying, the old lord and Miss Annie would have the tenantry feast; and feast, faith! they did. They were the boys who could light a bonfire, yell and shout, do honour to fat beef, or cut capers with any county in Ireland. Long did they speak of Mick Fahy's wedding, and the old lord's generosity; and, sure enough, if they lost one day spreeing, they made it up in work before the week was out.

66 'Well, sir, the Lord, in his own good time, sent us a child; a tiny daughter, as daintily-limbed and tenderly-fashioned as ever it was my lot to see. Miss Annie would be her godmother-would drive to the chapel herself—would dress her out in lace and cashmere. No one dare say anything against her plans. I, for my part, did not interfere. I was an ambitious man-I'll own it to you-and saw, in Miss Annie's condescension, golden shadows fall on the new-born's future. We christened our child Canth-or, as Miss Annie would have it, Kathleen—and again were the peasantry treated with a sumptuous feast, while the most beautiful presents were sent to us from the castle.

"Our child soon grew most interesting; and, on many occasions during her infancy, was she sent for by Miss Annie, to be admired by the guests; but as years wore on she was especially noticed, and Miss Annie undertook the teaching of her. If my child had been a born lady, and Miss Annie a paid governess, more scrupulously or carefully her education could not have been attended to. She had a talent for imitation, and a memory which astonished us all; while no bird in the wood could warble with her. She gave to the old songs of our country a sweetness all her own-never to be caught up by the voice of any other mortal.

"The old lord often remarked to me, that the after-dinner doze into which her plaintive melodies threw him, was the greatest luxury of his life. Oh, surely, Canth, you were idolized by all around you, rich and poor! You were the darling of all hearts, and the wealth of our dwelling! How the gleaners in the cornfields would look after her and bless her, as she flew through the golden stalks like a butterfly, decked out in bright, sunny ribbons, floating and fluttering about! -fitting here and there, gathering the crimson poppies and purple cornflowers, to wreathe chains and chaplets for her own adorning; and every heart-beat within the lovely little form was one of love and purity. She never came home at night from the castle without her little rush basket being filled, for her mother, with a share of all the good things provided for her by Miss Annie; and, though we wanted for nothing, the Lord knows! yet we ever accepted her little offerings, to encourage and enlarge within her the feelings of generosity and thoughtfulness.

"She never lay her golden-shrouded head on the pillow, at night, without first bending it at her mother's knees, and at mine, for our blessing and attention to her, as she thanked God for all his goodness and mercy towards her. How she

could have been led away from the paths of purity and virtue, I know not, except by the arts of the devil who tempted her. May Heaven forgive him!”

Old Mick took from his pocket an old blue cotton handkerchief, and wiped Nell's eyes; for, although he could not see, he could feel her tears falling. She rose and put sleeping Moll into her cot, and then resumed her place, sobbing convulsively, but no words of sorrow breaking from her bosom. Long since, for her husband's sake, she had learned to control all passionate outbursts of grief; and the agony she silently and patiently endured, told its tale upon her pallid cheek.

The stranger had folded his arms upon the table, where still lay his unfinished repast his head lay buried on them-and though, at parts of the recital, he started and muttered, yet no audible sentence reached the ears of Mick or his wife. They were all so absorbed with their own thoughts and feelings, that the howling storm, which increased every moment in fury, seemed to be forgotten by them. They had no ears for the crashing gale, which threatened, with every fitful gust, to shiver the small glass windows of their dwelling. They heard not the latch chink as it was raised, and closed again, by a trembling hand; nor the naked, pattering footfall of the forlorn, wretched-looking woman, who entered, and feebly tottered to a corner of the room on which the turf-blaze threw no glowing light. No, they heard none of this.

Where she crouched, her ragged covering and strange posture threw an unshapely shadow on the floor-with nothing about her that seemed of life, but the lustre of those eyes, which peered from beneath the wretched hood, or headcovering, in which she had enveloped herself. But they saw her not, though, with breath suppressed, and an inward struggle which made her tremble as if struck with an ague, she looked at them, and devoured every word the old man uttered. Even poor Jack, who hopped over to her as she entered, and half croaked out her name, passed unnoticed. After many a flit and flutter, the poor woman secured him, and silenced the bird's noisy tongue by putting his head under his wing and setting him to sleep.

"May Heaven forgive him!" went on the old man; "for God knows, if my heart was not a trifle softened towards him, I would not be telling her story this night.

"Time sped on; and, as Canth advanced towards her seventeenth year, preparations were made for a birthday-celebration. It was to be held on a scale grander than any festival ever yet honoured in the castle; for Lord de Vere's son was returning from Paris, where he had been pursuing his studies since he was a lad. He was just three years older than Canth: my lady died giving him birth. Everything was to be decked with additional splendour for his reception; and, indeed, a more fairy-like scene than the wood at that time never was seen. Triumphal arches were erected through the grand walks, ornamented with banners, which flew glittering in the sunlight. Wreaths of the rarest flowers hung from the iaurel-groves, with rich festoons of green and purple grapes, and other luscious fruits, tastefully disposed.

"From every branch of the gnarled oaks, whose intertwining arms canopied the green earth below, hung lamps of dazzling colours, forming designs, welcomes, blessings, and the like. On the mossy lawn before the castle-door was a throne erected for 'Queen Canth,' as my child was styled that day. I could not describe to you, sir, the beauty of this couch, nor give the right names to half its foreign