plain before him. The number of the huts fully accounted for the deserted appearance of the country, and herds enough to have pastured all the waste meadows he had passed, were scattered over the plain, one part in staked enclosures, beside piles of all kinds of forage. Troops of mounted soldiery were seen patrolling the woods, and a battalion of galloglass at exercise on the glacis of the inner camp's intrenchments. The sun was already sunk, and the favourable twilight setting in; but he longed for a deeper dusk before he should venture on the perilous attempt; at the instant, however, an outpost recognised him, and drew up at a little distance on the road, presenting their arms_till he should pass. It was now too late to retreat; he pulled his cap over his brows and galloped up, and bowed as he passed the guard undiscovered; he then crossed the plain at a rapid pace, and made for the nearest entrance. The guard again turned out, hailing their chief's return with loud acclamations of delight and attachment. He passed the barriers with equal success, and turned his horse's head, amid a crowd of uncovered and amazed retainers, down the narrow street of huts to his left. The noise of his arrival flew through the camp on all sides; but the strangest report that had ever yet agitated the rude public of Foichnagall was, that O'Neill was riding at the top of his horse's speed to the quarters of his lawful, but long neglected lady. Hugh Duff MacAulay dropped his gay battle-axe thunderstruck, as he saw the royal apparition leap from his horse upon the grass-grown esplanade, throw him the reins, and pass him right up to the door of the desolatelooking booth. It was opened by a woman, who uttered an exclamation of delight and surprise, and ran before him into her mistress's apartment to announce the happy tidings. The Scot threw himself into a seat in a corner of the low hall, and averted his face from the little light remaining, as he heard a quick step announce the entrance of the astonished

lady. She stopped at a little distance when she saw he did not rise to receive her.

"My Lord O'Neill," she said,

"I am here as thou hast commanded. Nora, withdraw; the King would be alone." The attendant retired; the Scot arose and extended his hand; she took it fondly, kissed it, and said, "O'Neill, thou hast long been a stranger in thy wife's house; but I have no will now to upbraid thee. Let me sit again by thy side, my lord and husband," she said, taking her seat on a low boss of rushes on his right hand; "nay, turn not away thy face, gloomy although it may be to think how fearfully thou didst win me, and how wantonly thou hast cast me off. I will not upbraid thee; I swear to thee I will not again complain. Shane, dear Shane, why dost thou tremble in the embrace of thy wedded and true wife?" for the frame of her disguised kinsman shook with strong emotion, as his former horror of her conduct, which had brought him thither only for the sake of another, yielded to sympathy and pity for her own miseries.

"Dear Catharine," he whispered she pressed his hand with a joyous response to her fluttered heart-" as you love your own kin and your own soul," he continued, in a low and impressive whisper, that made her start with a pang of painful amazement" as you love the Clan Donnell, and would atone for the sin you have done, restrain yourself, and scream not. I am not O'Neill, but thine own cousin, Randall of Mull."

The wretched lady sank back insensible; he caught her as she fell, and, with the quiet action of a determined man, laid her gently on the ground beside a window, which he then threw open to the evening breeze. The moment she reopened her eyes, his voice was urging new entreaties in her ear. "Sit up, Catharine-lean on me, and fear nothing. We are safe from all discovery. O'Neill is at this moment far from Foichnagall. Forgive me my disguise, dear Catharine; for my life, and the life and honour of one as dear to me as myself, depend upon its success. Alas! I have practised a cruel deception on thee, my wronged and wretched cousin! But forgive me, for the sake of our joined hands in the chapel of Glenarm."

Oh, Randall," she said faintly, "remind me not of those innocent

and happy days. I dare not look back on them-my eyes would be blasted by the brightness."

Bright days are yet before thee, Catharine. But let us waste no time in idle words. The camp believes me to be O'Neill-I am indeed dressed in his cloak and cap."

"My husband!—what has happened to my husband ?" exclaimed the unhappy lady.

"I swear to thee I left him safe on an island of the great lake yester day morning," replied he. "I will tell thee all in good time; meanwhile give this token," and he took the eagle's feather from his cap, "to the galloglass before the door. Tell him O'Neill's commands are, that he go to the pavilion of the Lady O'Donnell, and receive from her hands the female prisoner brought in her train this morning to the camp that he bring her in safety to me here, and also that he have four fleet horses ready for the road at a minute's warning-all this on his peril."

"Thou dost not mean to take me away, Randall ?" said the lady, in pitiable alarm.

"Catharine, I conjure you, trust me," he said. "If you desire it, I will take you hence, but not otherwise, as I am a Catholic Christian. -Canst thou remember what I have said?"

"I can-the lady-" she could not pronounce the hated name, "she is to send hither the female prisoner brought into the camp in her train this morning-the galloglass who brings her is to have four horses ready for the road."

"Right, right," said he; "and bid him also fetch hither the northern boy, whom he will find awaiting my commands at the Dungannon gate. Now let me make as if I were busied, and do thou, my dear cousin, give those commands, lest my voice might betray me."

He turned, and seemed to occupy himself in the farther end of the apartment; and the lady summoned her attendant, and desired that the galloglass should be brought to the door. Hugh Duff appeared, received the orders and token, and being cautioned to see that he failed in no point of his instructions, departed

with the step of a man charged with important authority.

Around the entrance to the Lady O'Donnell's pavilion was a crowd of eager expectants, in the midst of whom Alister Mackenzie, her secretary, stood in considerable alarm, awaiting the result of an aspect so unlooked for as the affairs of the royal booth had now put on.

"Way for O'Neill's messenger!" cried MacAulay, holding out the long feather, and clearing a passage through the staring captains and gentlemen, who recognised the token with accustomed respect, although they wondered much at the choice of the bearer.

"What are the King's commands?" said Mackenzie.

Hugh Duff began to repeat his message aloud: the moment the secretary perceived its tendency, he sought to interrupt him, but Hugh, with the boldness of office, persisted in declaring his commands before the whole assembled crowd.

"Let the maiden be brought forth speedily, Master Mackenzie-and on your peril see that the horses be fleet and well-caparisoned," he called after the astounded secretary, who sought his mistress in despair, while the supposed disgrace of the royal favourite spread with a rapidity even greater than that of the rumour of O'Neill's arrival.

"Good fortune never comes of broken vows," said one: "Hugh Calvagh may put the hall of Ballyshannon Castle in order for his lady. She will soon be knocking for admittance at his gates again.'

"Rather say a cell in the abbey of Boyle or Donegal," rejoined theother.

"Alister of the Isles is likely to change places with black Hugh—a pleasant sight to see our secretary shouldering the galloglass's axe before his own door!" cried a third.

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"I'd rather see him swing on his own gallows," said a fourth, "where many a better man than ever was his father's son has swung like a dog ere now, through his traitorous procuring,"-with much more of such ominous muttering.

Up to this time, no one had yet dared to announce to the Lady O'Donnell the return of O'Neill. She still sat in an inner chamber,

meditating the means of screening herself and friends from blame, should they have been discovered, and of still maintaining that supremacy which she had long enjoyed. Alister Mackenzie entered pale and agitated.

"Lady," said he, “O'Neill is returned."

"I am prepared to meet him, Alister," she replied; "hear my design, and admit him without delay."

Lady," stammered the secretary, "O'Neill, I fear, knows all. He has but now ridden into the camp, on the very horse which Munagh Garbh abandoned in the wood."

"I am prepared for that," replied the lady. "Munagh Garbh deserted from our troop two days since: be it thy business to arrange that report among my kern. It was the same party of the Lynagh-men who burned the Erenach Gallaghar's house, still hovering about their prey, that stole the Saxon girl. Munagh Garbh is himself of the Muinter Lynagh, and has more than once threatened to take service under Turlogh. Thus is all accounted for: what sayst thou to my story?"

"All the wit of woman cannot save us," said the secretary; "the Scot's messenger saw us this morning as we brought her hither, and it is supposed he has told O'Neill as much, for the Reagh More has laid his commands upon us to deliver her up without delay."

"Faint-hearted fool!" cried the lady, "I will go to O'Neill.-The messenger lied; it was my tire-woman Grana Nic Owen whom he saw-where is O'Neill ?"

"Banierna, prepare thyself for ill news!" said the secretary, "O'Neill is so enraged that he hath gone to the booth of "he hesitated.

She started from her seat. "Wretch!" she exclaimed, "what wouldst thou say? speak out!"

"O'Neill is with his wife, Lady," said the secretary, "with the Banierna M'Donnell and I have sent him the young Saxon, as he commands."

"Villain!" cried the enraged Lady," dost thou stand before me and call her his wife? Dost thou, to my face, tell me thou hast disposed at thy pleasure of my prisoner? Thou, whom I have raised from the dust,

VOL. XXXV. NO. CCXVIII.

dost thou join the other conspirators against my right and honour ?-Out of my sight, son of a she-wolfhence!" she cried, frantic with rage, and stamping on the floor.

Mackenzie drew back a moment, appalled by her wild violence; but when he saw her cast herself back upon a couch, exhausted by her passion, and in tears, he approached her and said

Banierna, thou hast done me wrong-I am still true to thy service. Rise, and we will go down together, and appease O'Neill or fly."

"What!" cried the miserable woman, "stand at the door of his lawful wife, and beg admittance to the man who scorns me? Never-never-I will sooner die than suffer that dishonour! Go, make thy peace if thou canst, but here I lie till death, or Shane O'Neill come for me!"

She fell on the floor in strong convulsions. Mackenzie summoned her attendants, and left her swooned among their hands.

In the meantime the Scot sat with his cousin, detailing to her the circumstances of his escape, and subsequent adventures, and eagerly expecting the arrival of his messenger. Lady Catharine listened in mournful silence to his story.

"Randall," she said, when he had finished, "thou hast told me that to which my ears have been long accustomed. O'Neill is abandoned and tyrannous; his paramour is proud and cruel. I am now for three years the victim of daily and open insult from them both,-yet, oh forgive me if it be a sin! I love my husband still, and still am satisfied to hope on in silence. Ask me not to fly: I shall never again shew myself among the Clan Donnell. They call me the wife of my father's murderer, but oh, Randall, believe it not: he fell in the open field, and on the even beam of battle, nor knew I by whose hand, till I was long the wife of O'Neill. No-no-ask me not to go: let me remain and expiate my guilt, if guilt it be, in patient suffering here."

She sat down and wept bitterly: the Scot, dashing a tear from his eye, turned to the window, for he heard the tramp of horses, and at the next moment beheld his messenger with

S

Clara Warden and Jeniko mounted, and two led horses ready at the gate. He turned to his cousin, embraced her, and kissed her cheek and forehead-"Farewell, Catharine-mayst thou be happy!" he exclaimed; "yet I fear to think of the anger of thy husband-come with us even yet I will protect thee: I will bear thee to England or to France, or whither thou wilt-anywhere but here." "Go, go, and may Heaven be your guard!" she cried, turning from his side, and hurrying into her own chamber.

The Scot, with a heavy sigh, crossed the threshold. A crowd was gathered round the court-yard: he waved his hand for them to retire Jeniko, who seemed to comprehend his whole design, shouted aloud"Way for O'Neill!" making his charger perform a demivolta into the thickest of the press, and effectually clearing a space round the little cavalcade. Clara had not dared to look up till she heard a voice by her side, the sound of which made her almost drop from her seat. One earnest whisper explained all, and the next moment the Scot was mounted, and the whole party, Hugh Duff being desired to lead the way, were riding at a quick pace for the Dungannon gate. Jeniko, who had received some brief orders from his leader, now said to MacAulay, "We take the Armagh road, my friend, and O'Neill would not be interrupted-let us ride on." The unconscious guide pricked out in front, and was followed over the forest path by the unsuspected fugitives.

While they were thus riding southward at their horses' speed towards the English camp, on the Blackwater, a company of footmen were slowly wending their way towards Foichnagall, from the woods and mountains on the north. The rising moon displayed the haggard and toil-worn Irish of Ram's Island. Their leader, John the Proud himself, drew his weary limbs with difficulty over the rugged pathway, yet still refused the frequent offered support of his equally spent companions. They gained the outposts of Foichnagall about an hour before midnight. The previous rumour of O'Neill's arrival had already spread to the farthest advanced guards, so, when the soldiers saw him

now descend from the mountain road before them, they were perplexed with strange surmises. Used as they were to his wild life, it did not astonish them to see him marked with all the tokens of flight and disaster, and they spread whatever fare they could produce, without question or comment, in his presence; but a dreadful suggestion, that it could be nothing but the King's wraith which had been seen already, soon spread among them out of ear-shot of the resting party.

"For what do ye lay your heads together, ye gossiping knaves ?" cried O'Neill to a knot of whisperers round the next fire. There was no answer from the questioned party, but one of his own body-guard, who, unobserved, had heard their ominous surmises, came up, and, in a low voice, communicated to him their import. O'Neill was not more superstitious than others of his time, but he turned pale as the man spoke.

"Who saw it ?" he enquired, immediately referring the appearance to something supernatural.

"Here is Brian Roe MacGillespie, who says he was within an arm's length of it," said some one at the guard-fire.

"Send him hither," said O'Neill. A kern came forward.

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Say what thou hast seen.' "O'Neill," replied the man, " I saw your likeness, mounted and accoutred as you left the camp three days since, ride from the north gate to the booth of the Lady Catharine of Kintyre, and enter her door, leaving what seemed your horse in the keeping of the galloglass, Hugh Duff MacAulay."

"If the dead could rise," said O'Neill, thoughtfully, "I would say it was the Scot in my stolen garments. But no; the curragh went down ten miles from any land; the fishermen at Toome saw her founder; and cloak and Scot, and all the precious freight she carried, lie twenty fathoms deep in the middle of Loch Neagh. No-bring me a horse, and ghost or devil I will question it. Lamh dearg aboo !" he cried, as he threw himself again on horseback, and the war-cry of his house was echoed after him from watch-fire to drawbridge, as he galloped in the track of his mysterious predecessor

through the camp. He made direct for the hut of his wife: there was a crowd of girls and women in the court, and a chorus of maidens singing "We have brought the summer with us"-in congratulation under her windows. Shane's heart fell as he heard his own condemnation in the people's joy over his supposed return to right conduct. They recognised him as he rode up: a lane was opened for him to the door-aged women, matrons, and young girls, all blessing him as he passed. He was sick from shame and terror; for he never doubted that he had been summoned to the scene by superhuman agency, but he preserved the boldness of his deportment till he got over the threshold-the long uncrossed threshold of his wife's chamber.

"Catharine!" he cried, "what is this which has been here in my likeness-has it appeared to you?" "Oh, my own lord and husband! -is this thyself at last?" exclaimed his lady, starting from her tear-wet pillow, and falling on his neck.

"It is myself, Kate," he said, "but who or what has been this other?tell me, I conjure you." She looked up smiling through her tears.

"Oh, Shane," she said, "I have a strange tale to tell thee-sit down and drink this cup of wine, and I will tell thee all truly and gladly." He sat down beside his wife, and she took his hand in hers, and told him all that had happened. The sinking boat, seen by the Toome fishermen, had been the other sail already mentioned. It was long past midnight when Shane O'Neill left the side of his lady; he turned and kissed her as he left the door; his step was light and vigorous again, and the marks of his rough journey were gone. He walked straight to the great pavilion in the middle of the camp. The sound of lamentation was loud within; he hurried forward, and entering, found the Lady O'Donnell and her women mourning over the distorted body of Alister Mackenzie-he had strangled himself.

"How now ?" cried O'Neill, "who has done me this good ser

vice ?"

The women told him shortly how it was; but the Lady O'Donnell,

swelling with shame and indignation, burst into a torrent of reproaches, long and vehement, which was only interrupted by the entrance of another and more impetuous mourner. It was Hugh Duff MacAulay, covered with dust and blood; he burst into the tent crying that all was over, that O'Neill was lost-a prisoner to the English.

"Thou liest, sir!" said Shane, seizing the astounded galloglass. "Hast thou spread this news also in the camp ?"

"By the head of O'Neill," cried Hugh," this is either witchcraft or

worse.

"There is no witchcraft in the case," said Shane, "beyond the ready wit of a brave Scot who has outdone us all with a cap, a cloak, and a stout heart. But tell me truly, Hugh, bast thou bruited abroad this thy news of my fancied capture?"

"O'Neill," said the galloglass, " I feared to throw the camp into confusion, and waited till I came hither ere I spoke."

"Thou hast done well, and shalt be rewarded for thy discretion," said Shane; "and now draw thy breath, and tell me how this capture of your supposed O'Neill took place ?"

"It was the strangest thing I ever saw," replied Hugh. "He and the young girl, and the boy Jeniko-a knife in his throat, young wolfwhelp-rode right up to the English outposts at Dungannon, and asked who commanded.

"Sir Dominick Warden,' said the Saxon sentinel. We surrender to him,' cried the penitent young traitor, and up rode the advanced guard. I struck for O'Neill as long as I could hold my axe, but he called to me himself, as it seemed, to fly if I could for my life; and so seeing I could no better, I e'en turned my horse's head, and never drew bridle till I got to Foichnagall."

"O'Neill!" cried another messenger, rushing in, "by your head I have seen the ragged staff on the Deputy's ensign, floating in the moonlight, three miles south of Magherafelt-there has been a bloody battle at Toomeferry, and the English of Cragfergus are in Killeightra,"