for the young man's advantage. It was some time before Maurice, who went feeling about, with his dagger, in the dark, caught the flash of his wild eyes. When he did, he stealthily approached, but when within two yards of him, the lad made a bound, like a wild cat, to the other end of the stable.

"You shan't escape, notwithstanding," said Maurice, rushing towards the door, to see that it was bolted, as well as latched; "come, you may as well give over, or by all the saints in your d-d Irish calendar, I'll skiver you through the liver and lights. Look at my boots, you villain.”

Receiving no reply to this remark, he advanced to the centre of the stable, and stooping down, looked about under the mangers and the bellies of the horses, to catch another glimpse of the red head and wild eyes. Just above him, there was a trapdoor to the loft, which he did not see; but the young man, who was crouching behind him, did; and in order to gain it, made a spring from the ground on Maurice's back, which he used as a stepladder, and from his back, in through the trap-door, which he immediately closed. In accomplishing this feat, he drove Maurice's face against the rack with so much violence, that the fire flashed from When he recovered, the strange being

his eyes. had disappeared. But where? That was more

than Maurice could say. His impression was, that he had vanished in a flash of lightning. All he was conscious of was that of getting a heavy thump on the back, which threw him forward, and a smart blow on the face, which threw him back again.

After rubbing his eyes, and straightening his back, and looking about him in vain, he opened the stable door, and re-commenced operations on the second leg; and as he did so, said, "Well, if that isn't funny, my name isn't Maurice Stack. Well, it's prowoking, and I havin' him so nice."

"Him would have slaine, when lo, a darksome clowd Upon him fell; he no where doth appeare,

But vanisht is. The Elfe him calls alowd,

But answer none receives, the darknes him does shrowd."

CHAPTER IV.

"He hath commanded

To-morrow morning, to the council-board."

SHAKSPEARE.

"Oh! how comely is the wisdom of old men, and understanding and counsel of men of honour."-ECCLES. XXV. 5.

"Dissimulation is but a faint kind of policy, or wisdom; for it asketh a strong wit and a strong heart to know when to tell truth, and to do it: therefore it is the weaker sort of politicians that are the greatest dissemblers."-BACON'S ESSAYS.

THE morning after the arrival of the party described in the foregoing chapter, the Lord President (Sir George Carew) and the Earl of Ormond were seated together, in a private apartment of the castle.

"My Lord Ormond," said the President, “I was instructed by the Lord Deputy, before leaving Dublin, as also by the Secretary of State, and even by Her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen, on my leaving Hampton Court, to consult with you regarding the affairs of Munster-you being a nobleman most distinguished for wisdom and loyalty, and, withal, better versed in the state of the country than any

other person in this part of Her Majesty's dominions."

"I am deeply impressed, my Lord President," replied the Black Earl of Ormond, "with the high confidence reposed in me by Her Most Gracious Majesty, and for the flattering opinion of my little skill in Irish affairs held by my Lord Mountjoy, and the Secretary of State, and shall do my best to serve your lordship with my poor advice. You have heard, no doubt, in passing through Dublin, of the death of Sir William St. Leger, your deputy in Cork ?"

"I did, and it distressed me sore to hear it. Will you recount the particulars of how he was slain, for reports are various ?"

"It happened thus: that arch-rebel of the North, Tyrone, was lately in Munster, with his hell-hounds. Some of them were not far from Cork, of which Sir William St. Leger not being duly advertised, rode out about a mile from the city for recreation, accompanied by about sixty horsemen ; when Hugh Maguire, the Lord of Fermanagh—a commander of cavalry under Hugh O'Neill, and, withal, a daring horseman and valiant rebel-met St. Leger in a narrow pass of the road." "What followers had Maguire ?"

'Only a few men. St. Leger rode up, and dis

charged his pistol at him, when Maguire, though mortally wounded by the shot, rushed upon St. Leger, like a lion, and cleft his head through his helmet; of which wound he soon died."

"Well, what happened Maguire ?"

"He escaped, but died of his wound the same day."

"Made you no attempt to cut off the retreat of that most diabolical rebel, O'Neill ?" exclaimed the President.

"I did, my Lord," replied the Earl of Ormond. "I went out, with a competent force, to meet him in his retreat; but by some accident I missed of meeting him--it being a hard matter to fight an enemy who wishes not to put anything to the hazard of the sword."

"True, and I learn that he slipped, with the same cunning, through the fingers of the Lord Deputy, who went out after him into Westmeath."

"So I learn; he is as wily as a fox."

"What policy does your lordship recommend for the apprehending of that vile rebel of the South, James Fitz-Thomas, or the Sugane Earl, as he is called ?" inquired the Lord President.

"I should say, put a goodly price on his head, as we did upon his uncle's, the Great Earl; but I doubt whether you will catch the young bird with