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ALL TIIK VI 'Alt HOUND.

C8eptmber,

555

tened to the story, only marvelling what a
dreary sameness pervades all these narratives.
Why, for one trait of the truthful to prove his
talc]! I could have invented fifty. There were
no little touches of sentiment or feeling; no
relieving lights of human emotion in his story.
I never felt, as I listened, any wish that no
should be saved from shipwreck, baffle his per-
secutors, or escape his captors; and I thought
to myself, " This fellow has certainly got no
narrative gusto." Now for my turn: we had
each of us partaken freely of the good liquor
before us. The captain in his quality of talker,
I, in my capacity of listener, had filled and re-
filled several times. There was not anything like
inebriety, but there was that amount of exulta-
tion, a stage higher than mere excitement, which
prompts men, at least men of temperaments like
mine, not to suffer themselves to occupy rear
rank positions, but at any cost to become fore-
ground and prominent figures.

"Yon have heard o the M'Gillicuddys, I
suppose?" asked I. He nodded, and I went
on. "You see, then, at this moment before
you the last of the race. I mean, of course,
of the elder branch, for there are swarms of
the others, well to do and prosperous also,
and with fine estatcd properties. I'll not
weary you with family history. I'll not refer
to that remote time when my ancestors wore
the crown, and ruled the tair kingdom of
Kerry. In the Annals of the Four Masters,
and also in the Chronicles of Thealbogh O'Faud-
lemh, you'll find a detailed account of our house.
I'll simply narrate for you the immediate inci-
dent which has made me what you see me an
outcast and a beggar:

"My father was the tried and trusted 'friend
of that noble-hearted but mistaken man Lord
Edward Fitzgerald. The famous attempt of the
year 'eight was concerted between them, and all
the causes of its failure, .secret as they are and
for ever must be, are known to him who now
addresses you. I dare not trust myself to talk
of these times or things lest I should by acci-
dent let drop what might prove strictly confiden-
tial. I will but recount one incident, and that
a personal one, of the period. On the night of
Lord Edward's capture, my father, who had in-
vited a friend deep himself in the conspiracy
to dine with him, met his guest on the steps of his
hall door. Mr. Hammond this was his name
was pale and horror-struck, and could scarcely
speak, as my father shook his hand. 'Do you
know what has happened, Mac?' said he to my
father? ' Lord Edward is taken, Major Sirr and
his party have tracked him to his hiding-place;
they have got hold of nil our papers, and we arc
lost. By this time to-morrow every man of us
will be within the walls of Newgate.'

"Don't look so gloomily, Tom,' said my
father, 'Lord Edwora will escape them yet;
he's not a bird to be snatnd so easily; and after
all we shall find means to slip our cables too.
Come in, and enjoy your sirloin and a good glass
of port, and you'll view the world more plea-
santly.' With a little encouragement of this

sort he cheered him up, and the dinner passed off
agreeably enough; but still my fiither could see
that his friend was by no means at his ease,
and at every time the door opened he would
start with a degree of surprise that augured
anxiety of some coming event. From these
and other signs of uneasiness in bis manner, my
father drew his own conclusions, and with a
quick intelligence of look communicated his sus-
picions to my mother, who was herself a keen
and shrewd observer.

"' Do you think, Matty,' said he, as they sat
over their wine, *that I could find a bottle of
the old green seal if I was to look for it in the
cellar? It has been upwards of forty years
there, and I never touch it save on especial oc-
casions; but an old friend like Hammond de-
serves such a treat.'

"My father fancied that Hammond grew paler
as he thus alluded to their old friendship, and he
gave my mother a rapid glance of his sharp eye,
and, taking the cellar key, he left the room.
Immediately outside the door, he hastened to
the stable, saddled and bridled a horse, and
slipping quietly out, he rode for the sea-coast,
near the Skerries. It was sixteen miles from
Dublin, but he did the distance within the hour.
And well was it for him that he employed such
speed! With a liberal offer of money, and the
gold watch he wore, he secured a small fishing-
smack to convey him over to France, for which
lie sailed immediately. I have said it was well
that he employed such speed; for, after waiting
with suppressed impatience for my father's re-
turn from the cellar, Hammond expressed to my
mother his fears lest my father might have been
taken ill. She tried to quiet his apprehensions,
but the very calmness of her manner served only
to increase them. ' I can bear this no longer,'
cried he at last, rising in much excitement from
his chair; 'I must see what has become of him!'
At the same moment the door was suddenly
flung open, and an officer of police in full uni-
form presented himself. 'He has got away,
sir,' said he, addressing Hammond; 'the stable-
door is open, and one of the horses missing.'

"My mother, from whom I heard the story,
had only time to mutter a 'Thank God!' before
she fainted. On recovering her senses, shc'found
herself alone in the room. The traitor Ham-
mond and the police had left her without even
calling the servants to her aid."

"And your father what became of him P"
asked the skipper, eagerly.

"He arrived in Paris in sorry plight enough;
but, fortunately, Clarke, whose influence with
the Emperor was unbounded, was a distant con-
nexion of our family. By his intervention ray
father obtained an interview with his majesty,
who was greatly struck by the adventurous spirit
and daring character of the man; not the less
so because he had the courage to disabuse the
Emperor of many notions and impressions he
had conceived about the readiness of Ireland to
accept French assistance.

"Though my father would much have pre-
ferred taking service in the army, the Emperor,