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cure M'Evoy, and tie him down to his bed, another, evidently the leader of the party, forced Nelly into an inner apartment, at the door of which he placed the fourth individual, who stood apart, passive and sullen, and apparently a most unwilling actor in their proceedings. Three of the men had their faces blackened, but this person, as if careless of concealment, trusted to the imperfect disguise of a muffling and a slouched hat. Having made some further arrangements, the leader approached the bed where M'Evoy lay, bound hand and foot, and desired him to let them know instantly where his money was deposited. The unfortunate man looked up at the speaker, whose blackened features gave an unnatural brightness to his eyes, and contrasted still more fearfully with his white and unusually large teeth; but there was another circumstance which fixed M'Evoy's attention, and made him tremble perceptibly in every limb. The long red locks had escaped from under the robber's hat, and at once discovered to his captive the full extent of his danger. The unfortunate man raised his eyes in despair

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Oh, Lord of heaven, protect us this night," he exclaimed, "it's the Ropairé Ruadh!”

"Ha, ould chap! you know me," cried the ruffian; "well, blame me, acushla, if ever you get my neck in a halter again ;" and so saying he plucked a long pointed knife from his bosom, and quickly elevating his arm, stood with the feelings and aspect of a fiend' above his prostrate victim.

The sentinel at Nelly's door made a tiger spring, and the next moment he and the Ropaire Ruadh were rolling on the floor in a struggle of life and death. The robber still held the fatal weapon, but his wrist was locked in the nervous grasp of his adversary, while the two hands were seen, black and strained, twisting above their bodies, till at length the Rapparee, by a tremendous effort, disengaged his arm, and raising it to its full length, he plunged the knife down with such blind fury that it missed its intended object, and striking the floor, broke short at the haft. Nelly in the mean time, little suspecting who the midnight plunderer was, that, at the risk of his own life, had all at once become the preserver of another, rushed to where her father struggled in desperate efforts to free himself from his bonds, while one of the subordinate ruffians ransacked the

cabin, the other having gone to his leader's assistance. The antagonist of the latter was speedily overpowered, when Barney springing up caught Nelly in his arms.

"This is better than goold," he shouted; "knock out O'Brien's brains, boys, and come off!" and rushing out of the cottage, he had already lifted the shrieking girl to the pillion, when he fell apparently lifeless on the earth.

"There's one done for, anyhow!" shouted a lusty voice; and while all within turned their eyes to the door, Jack Rua appeared, bearing Nelly back in safety, while in his right hand he held the short knotted club, with which he had nearly cleft the skull of his unfortunate brother.

The contest was now quickly terminated. Jack laid about him like a hero, and M'Evoy being liberated at last, it was not without difficulty the enemy effected their retreat, or succeeded in bearing off their wounded chief.

"Where's th' other ruffan," shouted Jack, re-entering the cabin, flushed with conquest, and not aware of the part which this person had taken in the transactions of the night.

"Oh, he's away Jack," cried Nelly hastily-"he's a good mile out o' this afore now.”

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He is, you tell me!" cried the other in astonishment; "by my faix, then, he has a light foot on the road. Arrah didn't I see him standin' on that spot when the two black divils run out? Ay, and he whispered somethin' in your ear, too, that made you turn up your eyes like a duck in thunder. Now dont deny it," he cried, rudely interrupting the girl, whose changing colour and deprecating glance towards the old man would have betrayed her secret to any one more observant than Jack of such appearances.

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Well, well, Jack," said M'Evoy, casting a look of suspicion on his daughter, "never mind, avick. I hope whoever he is, he's out of harm's way."

"Oh, by the dad, ay," said the other, not knowing what to make of this unseasonable lenity; "it would be a murdherin' pity any thing should happen him-till the 'sizes comes round;" for so it was ;—the chance of an ignominious death was all the unfortunate young man had gained by this abortive and criminal enterprise.

Jack kept watch and ward at the cottage for the remainder of the night;

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but great was his horror on discovering that it was his own brother who had fallen beneath his hand.

"Oh, murdher," he cried, "if I had only the luck to set about slaughterin', the other villians out of the face! though, by my song, if it isn't a thing he's murdhered outright, he desarves what he got."

It was a dark and stormy morning when he left M'Evoy's cottage, and descended through the fields towards his own secluded residence. On reaching the river he found it flooded to an unusual degree, and it was with no small surprise he beheld little Tommy wandering up and down on the opposite bank, pale as a ghost, and thoroughly drenched with rain. On perceiving his friend approach, the child evinced the most intense anxiety; but when the loud voice of the former had assured him of the safety of his people,' he forgot, in his transport, all the miseries he had endured through the night. Jack, having with difficulty forded the torrent, sprung to shore, and shaking the wet from about him

"That's a wild mornin', Tommy," he said.

"By dad it is Jacky," cried the boy, "or I'm no judge of weather; and it was a wild night," he added, with a glance of conscious heroism, "to be meandherin' about here by the roarin' waters!" for thus it was the child had passed the many gloomy hours since his friend's departure.

Tortured with apprehensions, and unable to rest, he had left the old man sleeping in his hut, and pursued the same invisible path which Jack had taken not half an hour before. The noise of the river might have been in itself sufficient to terrify so young an adventurer, but when he saw the light in his father's cottage, and thought of the danger to which its inmates were exposed, anxiety for them overcame every fear for his own Safety. He entered the torrent with a beating heart; but when he had struggled half-way through, his courage forsook him, and he was totally unable to proceed. His situation was now peculiarly dreadful. Stunned by the roaring of the flood he gazed round in horror, but he was beyond all hope or chance of assistance. The hut he had so imprudently abandoned was invisible in the darkness; the light in his own home seemed to float unsteadily before his eyes; his senses VOL. IX.

grew bewildered; and wild and giddy he clung round the large steppingstone to save him from being swept away at the mercy of the waters. He felt the coldness of death come over him; but there was one feeling which despair could not extinguish in his bosom; and his face was pale, and his words were scarcely half articulated, as, kneeling in the midst of that wild torrent, he looked up to the black and starry sky, and, in the fervour of his infant heart, prayed to the Being who dwelt above it. The robbers in the meantime having been routed, and the river lying in the way of their retreat, they came up at a fortunate moment for the child, just as he was praying, according to his own account, for deliverance from a sudden and unprovided death. They halted on perceiving the strange apparition; and one of them called out, "who's that ?" in more hurried accents than if he had been challenging an armed traveller on the high road.

"It's me," cried Tommy.

"And who are you?" enquired the other.

"Amn't I little Tommy M'Evoy, son of Aby M'Evoy on the hill beyant? But if it's for murdherin' me yees are," he added, as they approached, and he discovered, by their blackened features, to what class of society they belonged ; "if it's for murdherin' me yees are, you may just take and lay me on the bank, and I'll be bound I'll be dead in no time."

They satisfied him, however, that their intentions were not altogether so sanguinary, and one of their number, taking him by the hand, conducted him safely back to the side of the river towards which they were proceeding. The leader was mounted on Willy's horse, which constituted the entire spoil of the night, but he could with difficulty keep his saddle, his head drooping on his chest, and the blood pouring copiously from the wound he had received. He desired the boy to go and sleep in his father's cabin till morning; "and tell Jack," he said, "that no man ever lifted a hand against the Ropairé Ruadh, that he did'nt repent it the longest day he lived." Having allowed his two companions, however, to proceed a little way in advance, he again called Tommy towards him, and repeating his message in a louder tone, hastily whispered to the child, "tell Jack if

he doesn't hear news of me afore two

days goes round, to come, the night after, to The Three Whitethorns, and he'll have God's blessin' and mine; but you know, Tominy! not a word to mortal breathin' barrin' Jack him self!" A caution so expressed, and from Barney Rua, was not likely to be disregarded.

The robbers pursued their way; but Tommy, instead of returning to the hut, continued on the banks of the river the whole night long; occasionally standing under shelter, but ever looking towards the light on the hill, burn ing, as he felt almost assured, in a desolated dwelling. Jack heard, with feelings of a most mingled and contradictory nature, the communication from the Ropairé, and the description of the state to which he was apparently reduced. He reprobated as strongly as any man could, the atrocity of his enterprise, the object of which, by the by, he was somewhat puzzled to understand; but there was something very dreadful in the idea that the blow he had inflicted would in all probability expedite his brother's end, if not by its own immediate consequences, at least by facilitating his discovery and arrest.

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Well, Tommy," he said, "if I knowed it was him was in it, I'd have saved Nelly M'Evoy - certainly I would but to say it's a thing I'd go murdher him out and out- -oh! by my song, divil as Barney is, I wouldn't have hot him that whang for all the colleens within the four seas of Ireland."

His young friend tried to comfort him by the reflection that Barney would have been hanged one day or other, at all events, and while arguing the probabilities of such a catastrophe, for Jack rejected this species of consolation, they reached the cabin where the elder Cumeskey, who was fortunately ignorant of all the events of the night, had already kindled the fire, and was preparing their homely meal.

Early on the same morning Aby M'Evoy proceeded to the neighbouring town, for the purpose of lodging informations with the magistrate. Barney Cumeskey was the only individual whom he could charge with being concerned in the outrage, but Aby, as well as his worship, would have been perfectly satisfied, could they only ensure the punishment of this daring offender. The most active measures were accordingly adopted for his ap

prehension; a reward was offered, and a pardon proclaimed to any of his associates who should deliver him into the hands of justice. Willy O'Brien, in the meantime, whose guilt and danger were unknown to all but the actors of the night, pursued his ordinary avocations as if quite unconcerned in an event which for some days set the entire country astir. He was indeed perfectly regardless about his own fate. He had, by this last act, not only destroyed all hopes of a union with Nelly, but, in losing his place amongst honest men, he felt, in his sudden degradation as though he had lost something which had heretofore been essential to life. He had associated himself with the vilest outcasts in a midnight robbery; and, overwhelmed with disappointment and remorse, he cared very little how soon, or in what manner he might meet his deserts. Two days had now elapsed and no tidings of the Red Rapparee had reached his family. They were days of infinite misery to poor Jack, who fancied his brother dying in some savage retreat, friendless and forsaken by all the world. At the close of the third day he wandered up the glen, and having reached the farther extremity, he crossed the heathy common, where Willy and his confederate had made arrangements for their unfortunate undertaking. He next entered a piece of wild scenery, such as hardly afforded sufficient shelter for an outlaw, but where a party of Whiteboys might be supposed to hold their midnight meetings; it was so savage, and so remote from any human habitation. Not far from the centre of the scene, stood three old and romantic hawthorns, associated with many a wild tradition which rendered them a more suitable retreat for the Ropairé Ruadh. As Jack approached this spot he felt a mingled sensation of fear and pity on beholding the ghastly figure of the robber seated on a large stone, near the walls of a ruined-cabin. His long hair hung as usual about his shoulders; his head was bandaged up, his face deadly pale, while its habitual fierceness was softened into an expression of sullen resignation. "Well, Jack," he said, with a bitter smile, as the other drew near, "you're proud of yourself, I'll be bound, this evenin'-troth and well you mayyou're the first ever brought the Ropairé Ruadh to this." But no emotions of vain glory could mingle

with the feelings which filled Jack's heart, as he contemplated the fallen and apparently hopeless condition of the outlaw. He uttered no reproach, nor did he once allude to the circumstances which more than justified his fatal act, but endeavoured to atone for his rashness, by devoting all his energies now to the unfortunate man's restoration and escape. Barney, on finding his brother so well disposed to exert himself on his behalf, informed him briefly of the present state of his fortunes. He was no longer the formidable Ropairé, the leader of a fear less and powerful banditti; but shattered in frame, and fallen from his high authority, he lay there in the mountains, with a price on his head and as he said himself, without a man to stand by him. He had for a long time suspected the fidelity of some of his associates, and his suspicions were realized on the night of this last illomened enterprise. While he lay motionless and half-stunned at M'Evoy's door, he heard one of the boys' propose to leave him to his fate, but this measure, which would have compromised their own safety, was prudently rejected by the other; and their object being merely to get rid of Barney, who had latterly become unpopular in the gang, they mounted him on O'Brien's horse, and having conveyed him to one of their retreats, left him there with the assurance that they would return in the course of that or the following night. It was probable that they had immediately proceeded to some distant part of the country; for the gang was widely connected, and they might have calculated that their chief would have either sunk under his wound, or under the hand of the law, and that the circumstance of the outrage would be forgotten, before their return to the neighbourhood of Ballycorly. Barney being thus deserted, had only one course to adopt. Removal, at present, was altogether out of the question; but as it was generally supposed he had left the country, and the search in his own immediate neighbourhood was, in consequence relaxed, he thought he might continue unmolested for a little time, until his strength should be sufficiently restored to allow of his throwing himself once more upon the world, but, as Jack fondly hoped, with altered purposes and feelings to guide him. He had this evening crept over with difficulty from a more remote and inaccessible retreat, to the place ap

pointed for an interview with his brother; but, as, from the circumstances we have just mentioned, either place afforded sufficient security, and, as the latter had many advantages, particularly as being so much nearer his father's dwelling, it was determined that he should take up his abode in the ruin under the shade of the three classic thorns. Jack accordingly fixed up the interior of the walls, part of which he covered in with rods and leaves, and making a bed for the outlaw of the driest and softest materials he could collect, went to procure him some food, of which the unfortunate robber stood much in need. He then left him for the night, and with a mind somewhat relieved from the torturing anxiety of the last two days, he hastened home to acquaint his father with the safety of his unhappy son.

The wound in Barney's head was of a serious nature, and not being properly attended to, it brought on a fever, which, from his present unfavourable circumstances was likely to prove fatal. Jack and the father bestowed on him all the attention it was possible to afford; but the strictest caution was necessary in the fulfilment of their charitable offices. They would have had still greater difficulties to contend with, however, but, as we have mentioned, it was generally understood that the robber had forsaken that part of the country. Tommy preserved his secret with the utmost fidelity; he had never even to his sister given the slightest hint of the message he had borne, till one day as they were discoursing about the circumstances of that memorable night, he chanced to observe, "Well, but isn't it a wonder Jack hasn't more wit nor to thrust himself with that red ruffan up among the wild mountains yonder?"

"What's that you're sayin', Tommy ?" cried the father, who had not been attending to the former part of their conversation; but his sister cast on him a cautioning look, and the child reddened and stammered, and said he did not know what he was saying.

Nelly's feelings in this matter were perfectly understood by her father; she had indeed many motives to desire the safety of the man, whom, of all living, she most feared and detested. Barney Ruadh was brother to the kindhearted Jack, and loved by him with all a brother's devotion. He had saved little Tommy's life, and lastly, and

above all other considerations, she believed that his safety and that of her unfortunate lover were identified. All these circumstances had even some weight with Aby himself, but he considered that neither he nor his family could ever be free from danger while an enemy so ruthless and vindictive as the Red Rapparee remained at large.

Barney was some days in his new abode; his fever was beginning to assume a bad appearance, and Jack and his father were conversing gloomily about his probable doom, when they observed a way-worn traveller, loitering about, and at last lying down at the edge of the little rivulet which ran past their dwelling. They could not, under any circumstances, disregard this silent and unusually diffident appeal to their hospitality, and the stranger was presently seated by their hearth. He had travelled he said from the county Tipperary, and was going up the country in search of work; but, as the times were bad, and his purse exhausted, he would be satisfied now with any Occupation which would procure him lodging and food. It instantly occur red to our friends, that, as their little portion of tillage had latterly been much neglected, and, as it was not likely that for some time longer they could devote sufficient care to their ordinary concerns, it would be an act of prudence as well as charity to keep this man to assist them in their labour, until he should be able to procure some more profitable employment. The offer was gratefully accepted, and the Tipperary man became an inmate of the lonely but hospitable cabin of the glen. He appeared an exceedingly simple-minded individual, and drawling accent, and unmeaning laugh, encreased the effect of a remarkably vacant expression of countenance. The Cumeskeys felt an interest for him, believing him an unfortunate; for he would frequently utter ejaculations of sorrow, and when at evening Jack or the old man would have gone to see their neighbour that was poorly, for it was impossible not to admit him so far into the nature of their evening excursions up the glen, poor Larry would loiter out alone, and enquiring on his return for the invalid, he would shake his head, and with a bitter sigh lament the fate of those, who had neither a home in sickness, nor a friend in trouble. The old man thought, however, he perceived something in the cha

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racter of this stranger not altogether consistent with the extreme simplicity he evinced; but, though he afterwards watched him with a more attentive eye, he could trace no one appearance to justify his suspicion. It was singular that Jack, too, bad some slight misgivings, but they were so very slight that when his father, having mentioned his feelings to him, afterwards told him that he believed they were without foundation, he felt quite relieved at suspicion being removed from the character of the poor traveller. His own doubts, however, were renewed on meeting him one evening at the upper end of the glen, from which the way to the robber's hut lay across the heathy common we have mentioned. This was certainly as natural a place as any other for a man to take an idle stroll; and, though the glen was somewhat better than a mile in length, Larry, who at his daily labour ever displayed a most philosophic coolness, might easily have been induced to wander so far, by the glowing beauty of an autumn evening. But fear is ever calling up dangers, and Jack thought the presence of the Tipperary man, at that time and place, boded something ill. The latter evinced a little surprise on meeting his host. "Oh, musha is it you?" he said, with his usual drawling simplicity.

"Oh, the divil a one else," said Jack, "and I have a notion that's you-if the likeness doesn't desave me.'

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'Oh, faix it is me," said the other with a silly laugh," but isn't this a wonderful purty place, Jack?" he added, looking up at the sides of the glen, that rose, dark and beautiful above them.

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Oh, it is," rejoined Jack; "a mighty purty place entirely, and some of the purtiest down-leps in it ever you seen," he added, with a glance which a little discomposed the placid countenance of his companion,

"Ay, by dad, lashins of them sure enough."

"And you're a thraveller, you tell me?" said Jack, eying him with a sneering but dangerous look.

"Faix I am that, Jack, and an unfortunate thraveller, too, God help me!-God help us all!" exclaimed Larry, with a devout elevation of countenance; "sure what are we all but thravellers, in this weary world ?"

"Sure enough," said the other," but I'll be bound you never heard tell of the wonderful ways of the Rock of

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