University of Virginia Library

22. CHAP. XXII.

Burns.

As the party proceeded to Mr. Agnew's, the
lovers found an opportunity to ride at some distance
from the rest of the company and enjoy the
luxury of a private conversation. Ellen expressed
some inquietude, lest Edward should, even under
the disguise of a minstrel, be recognized by
the United Irishmen, and involved into fresh troubles.

“I keep so close,” said he, “that except when the
necessity of serving you requires it, I never leave my
concealment, and, on such occasions, this habit has
hitherto been an effectual disguise; and you will
acknowledge that my general hiding-place is well
chosen, both in point of security and enjoyment,
when I inform you that it is the Recluse's cavern.”

“That cavern is, indeed, an endeared spot to
me,” said she, and she coloured as she spoke;
“since it is the asylum of my two best and dearest
friends.”

“Ah! my heart's best treasure, sweet endearing
girl!” exclaimed Edward, “how happy you make
me in accounting me one of that sacred number!”

“Permit me,” said she, wishing to stop his raptures,
and to give a different direction to the conversation,
“permit me to inquire how you discovered
me this morning, in so obscure and unsuspicious a
place; and also how you appeared so fortunately
to rescue me on a former occasion?”

“My love,” said he, “I shall explain the whole
mystery. You know that after my escape from
the United Irishmen, I kept up a constant correspondence
with the Recluse, by whom I was informed
of every thing that happened to you. When
he mentioned the persecution you suffered from
the addresses of Sir Geoffrey, and that your grandfather
exerted his authority over you in his favour,
I anticipated some misfortune, and resolved to visit
your neighbourhood, to watch over your safety,
and rescue you from any calamity that might befall
you. To effect this, it was necessary, for obvious
reasons, to disguise myself. After my return home,
I had employed one of Arthur O'Neil's pupils, to
give me instructions on the harp; for I had imbibed
your taste for that instrument; and having become
a tolerable performer, I adopted the habit and profession
of a minstrel. I arrived at the Recluse's
cavern in the beginning of March; and by M`Nelvin's
management I was admitted to perform as a
harper in the castle, at the celebration of St. Patrick's
Day, on which occasion you so signalized
me, by bestowing on me the contested prize, as to
excite the envy of my competitors.

“The jealousy of Sir Geoffrey, on that occasion,
I made no doubt, was the cause of his urging you
so instantaneously to accept his proposals; and
I determined, at all risks, to rescue you from his
power. But when I heard that you had consented
to become his wife, I thought it improper to interfere,
and I became almost distracted with intensity
of grief; and, I assure you, that had you then married
him, I should have fled my country never to
see it more.

“It was then that the Recluse, in pity to my sufferings,
revealed to me his relationship to you,
and the other particulars of his life; and gave me

assurances that, as he knew your consent had proceeded
from a deference to parental authority, he
would interfere with an authority of that description,
which you would esteem more imperative
than that of your grandfather. The happy consequence
of his interference, I shall never forget.
He ran some risk on the occasion; but his affection
for you, and his knowledge of Sir Geoffrey's character,
constrained him to overlook all hazards.

“Aware that your tormentor would adopt other
methods of possessing you, I determined to keep a
close watch on his motions. For this purpose, I
had recourse to Peg Dornan, whose profession as
a beggar would procure her constant and unsuspected
admission to his house. Of her zeal in
your cause, I was aware, and of her prudence in
such matters, I had before ample demonstration.
She readily undertook the office assigned her, and
has discharged it with fidelity and success.

“It was she who informed me that Berwick and
Rodgers, had engaged to be the instruments of Sir
Geoffrey's villany. I observed them several times
suspiciously lurking in your neighbourhood, as if
watching an opportunity to seize you. In all your
walks and journeys, I, therefore, determined to
hover near you, that in case of any attack, I might
be at hand for your defence.

“Accordingly, when you set off for Mr. Agnew's,
I followed you. It was fortunate I did so.—But
you know the result. Before Berwick recovered
from the effects of the blow, you had resumed your
journey, in safety from his pursuit. He did not,
however, attempt to pursue; for I watched until he
had re-mounted, and set off in a different direction.

“Since your visit to Mr. Agnew's, that I might
be convenient to you, I have resided about half a
mile distant, at the house of an old widow, a strenuous
friend to the United Irishmen, who has carefully

and kindly concealed me, under the persuasion
that I am proscribed by the government, and
hiding from its power.

“Conceiving, that if Sir Geoffrey renewed his attempt
to seize you, he would do it in a more formidable
manner than before, I thought it prudent
to provide an assistant, in whose courage and
fidelity I could depend. You will readily agree,
that I could not have found one better qualified in
these respects, than our honest farmer, James Hunter.
He engaged ardently in the affair, and without
hesitation took lodging beneath the same roof
with me, under a similar plea. Peg Dornan, who,
of course, knew where to find us, came to us this
morning breathless, and in great agitation.

“Come oot,” said she, “till I tell you!” I accompanied
her out of doors.

“They hae ta'en her, at last,” she resumed, “I
ca'ed at Mr. Agnew's before I cam' here, an' the
servants are pursuing, yin, yin way, an' yin
anither; but nane o' them the richt way; I ken
that. Miss Agnew has had a'e fit o' the mither after
anither, till she's amaist dead. Ye maun ken that
I was sleeping in Sir Geoffrey's kitchen-neuk when
Rodgers cam' hame in the night time. The master
met him in the hall, for, I trow, he had no' been
in bed; an' neither o' them saw me, though I was
within twa yards o' them.

“Have you got her to Gorman's house?” said
the master.

“We have, your honour; and a right speedy
scamper we had of it,” said Rodgers, “she made
such a screaming; but Berwick soon gagged her.
But her comrade, Agnew's daughter, ran and terrified
the neighbours so much, that, late as it was,
I feared we would have been catched, before we
got to Gorman's. But the horses were guid, your

honour; and she is now as snug for you, as if she
were lodged in your own bed room.”

“I immediately summoned Hunter. Our horses
were soon prepared, for we kept them in an adjoining
field, ready for any emergency. As Peg
alone knew Gorman's place, it was necessary to
take her along as a guide. She was accordingly
mounted behind Hunter; and we set off at full
speed. Thank Providence, our haste was not in
vain. You are safe once more; and I trust your
friends, in whose hands your infamous persecutor
now is, will take care that he shall not again have
the power to injure you.”

When he had ended his recital, “Ah! generous
Barrymore,” she exclaimed, “what do I not owe
you for so much kindness?”

“You owe me nothing,” he replied. “Ah! yes;”
he continued, “I do ask for the vastness of my
love, not for my services, the most valued, the
most precious reward this world can afford me; I
ask thyself?”

The burning blush that now glowed on the countenance
of Ellen was beautiful beyond the power
of genius to portray. It was like the living saffron
that irradiates the face of heaven, when the sun
gilds with his golden beams, the bosom of a snowy
cloud; and the look of gladness that sparkled in
her bright rolling eyes, was like the agitated reflection
of the same luminary when it glitters from
a liquid mirror.

She replied not. Their arrival at Mr. Agnew's
prevented her; but to the penetrating eye of Edward,
her look had spoken a reply a thousand
times more satisfactory than could have been conveyed
in the strongest language.

For reasons well known to his friends, Edward
now disappeared. He returned to his hospitable
widow, and conferring on her an unexpected reward,

told her that he must, with his companion,
seek a new residence for a few weeks. When
night came he assisted his friends to convey the
culprits to O'Halloran Castle, and then retired with
the Recluse to his subterraneous dwelling.

Sir Geoffrey, and his worthy compeer, the game-keeper,
were soon secured in the conspirator's
strong hold, within the Point rock; but met with
very different treatment from what Edward had
received, when confined in the same place the
preceding year. The chiefs of the conspiracy,
besides their displeasure at his conduct to Ellen,
detested him as an apostate, one whose fraudulent
behaviour towards them had thrown their affairs
into considerable embarrassment, and whose fears
alone had prevented him from absolutely betraying
them to their enemies. They, therefore, on first
receiving him, secured him in a dark apartment,
chained to the rock, where he had only straw for
a bed, and was fed on bread and water. His
servant was treated more leniently, as being only
an instrument in the hands of the superior criminal.
At length Sir Geoffrey consented to purchase
greater indulgence, by giving O'Halloran an order
on his Dublin banker, for the twenty thousand
pounds of which he had attempted to defraud him.

Edward having thus secured the object of his
affections from the further aggressions of her tormentor,
thought of returning to Dublin. As he
had lately held no conversation with any of the
conspirators on political subjects, he neither knew,
nor wished to know, the posture of their affairs.
The safety and welfare of Ellen was the great object
that had occupied his mind. He was however
far from viewing the threatening aspect of the
times with indifference; but he did not conceive
the stability of the constitution to be really in
danger from the present conspiracy. Had he

thought so, its preservation would undoubtedly
have enlisted all his energy and feelings, and
been viewed as possessing a paramount claim over
every other consideration, to his services. The
threatened insurrection, if it did take place, as its
materials were so very discordant and scattered,
and the great majority of the influential men of the
kingdom, its opponents, he believed, would be
neither very extensive nor of long duration. It
might bring destruction on a few of its leaders and
their most zealous followers; but he had no power
to prevent this; he could only deplore it.

In the event of an actual rebellion, the preservation
of O'Halloran would be the chief object of
his solicitude. He believed, however, that by ingratiating
himself with the executive authorities of
the day, he might acquire sufficient influence to
protect this enthusiastic old man, should he fall
into the hands of the government. Hence he
thought it necessary to return to the capital; which
he did with the less reluctance, as he knew that he
left Ellen under the protection of the watchful eye
of her father, the affectionate sagacity of M`Nelvin,
and the energetic and faithful arm of Jemmy
Hunter. Of every important occurrence, he also
knew that he should receive the earliest intelligence,
and could act accordingly.

During the parting interview he had with Ellen
in her father's cave and presence, while under the
influence of the warm feelings the occasion excited,
he solicited strongly for an immediate marriage.

“I am at my own disposal,” said he, “independent
as far as a competence of worldly wealth
can make me so, in my own right; so that, without
reference to either the pleasure or the displeasure
of my father or my uncle, I think I may
be justified in taking this step.”

Ellen declared that in the present critical state of

her grandfather's affairs, she could not consent to
such a measure without his approbation, “and you
are aware,” said she, “that to obtain that, the obstacles
are insurmountable.”

Her father also declared that he would not consent
to a private union, which, however, fair and
valid, would carry with it something of a clandestine
and improper air, and which might, from that
very circumstance alone, be displeasing to Edward's
relations. “No,” said he, “my young, but
too ardent friend, let the crisis of the times be past,
let the fate of this conspiracy be decided, and when
the storm which it raises is blown over, and the
affairs of our country again become calm and settled,
I shall promote your views of domestic felicity;
and publicly, perhaps, (for Providence may
by that time restore me to society) have the pleasure,
with the approbation of your friends, of bestowing
my daughter on you, and giving you both,
at the moment of the ceremony, a father's benediction.”

Edward acquiesced, having first obtained from
Ellen an assurance that she would comply with his
wishes, whenever such a period as that to which
her father alluded, should arrive. “But, ah! surely,”
said she, “this is not a time to indulge our
selfish wishes; this is no time for the mirth, or joy,
or pageantry of a marriage, when our country is
in sorrow, when she is about to be agonized at
every pore; and, perhaps, rent in pieces by a
dreadful convulsion. Ah! my Edward, I fear we
have numerous scenes of sorrow to witness, perhaps
to endure, before we can experience joy.
Let us prepare our minds for the worst; but amidst
our misfortunes, whatever they may be, let us be
faithful to each other; for be assured, that whether
in prosperity or adversity, I shall be faithful to
you.”

“My only love!” replied Edward, touched to
the heart by her fervency, “that God who loves
purity, will avert from thee the calamities thy toe
timid mind forebodes; and as to the fidelity of my
heart's affections, the moment of its first wandering
from thee, shall be that of its last pulsation. No;
Ellen, I have rivetted thy image, I have rivetted
thy virtues and thy loveliness, too strongly here,
in my heart, ever to displace them, and they never
shall be displaced.” He warmly caught her hand,
and kissed it. “God preserve thee, my espoused,”
he exclaimed, “for whatever man may say or do,
thou art mine in the ordination of Heaven. God
preserve thee, until I see thee again!” and he rushed
from her in violent agitation, and departed.