No sound disturbs night's stilly rest, Come to me, love!-the midnight breeze Come to me, love!-thy father sleeps,- The wolf-dog to his kennel creeps, But Love lies waking in thy bower And faithful arms around thee prest Shall strain thee to the beating breast Of somebody. The harp ceased, and Henry with a deep sigh retired to prepare for his departure in the morning. CHAPTER II. When men draw cold steel on each other in their native country, they neither care, nor may dwell deeply on the offences of those whose swords are useful to them. The Monastery. Ir was late when Henry bade Emily adieu. The moments flew unheeded as the young lover repeated his vows of eternal constancy, and still with Romeo he lingered to say "a thousand times good night," when the clock, beating the hour of midnight, echoed through the castle. Delicacy suggested that the interview should not be protracted, and with a heavy heart he saw his mistress retire to her chamber. He was about to leave home, and to leave it, labouring as he did under doubt and apprehension, was indeed most painful. In expec tation that his father would have confided to him the nature of his present mysterious intercourse with strangers, he had postponed inquiry to the last; but now he determined to satisfy his worst fears, and demand that confidence, which for the first time had been withholden. Thus resolved, he approached the library; it was situated in a tower rather detached from the main building, and terminated a long and arched passage, which branched from the great hall. One o'clock struck, and all within the castle seemed profoundly quiet; he reached the apartment silently, when an unexpected glare of lights, and the hum of many voices made him pause before the folding-doors of green cloth which were within the massive oaken portal. Standing in perfect concealment, the immense thickness of the walls of the tower allowing ample space for remaining securely between the outer and inner doors, he gazed with amazement on the scene which the interior so unexpectedly presented. Around the spacious table fifteen or sixteen persons sat; his father occupied a chair at the extreme end, with Lord Edward Fitzstephen seated on one side, and a foreign-looking stranger on the other. A silver candlestick, containing many wax lights, stood in the centre, and en abled him to perceive that numerous papers, maps, and drawings, were scattered around, One remarkable circumstance he observed. Pistols lay before each of the party, and an armed man stood behind his father's chair, Another table, amply covered with refreshments and wines, appeared on the opposite side of the apartment. Henry could scarcely credit his senses. Was it possible that a band of conspirators were seated in secret council in his father's house, and Lord Edward himself under the same roof with him? He turned his attention to the remainder of the group:-in the person seated next to his Lordship, he recognised an old acquaintance-it was Counsellor S-, celebrated alike for his eminent talents and unhappy end; a stranger was in the next seat-and the next-the fourth, however, was occupied by Mahony's mysterious friend, the Colonel; all the others were unknown, excepting the unfortunate Fitzmaurice. Henry shuddered as he looked on his altered features and wasted form; he was yet in the prime of life, and within his young memory had possessed the noble estates VOL. II. Ꭰ now partitioned between M'Cullogh, Glossen, and others; he sighed when he recollected the former splendour of the unhappy spendthrift the dashing equipage, the noble stud, the long array of liveried menials, were once his; and fancy carried him back to the first fox-chase he had ridden. It was the ill-starred prodigal's unequalled pack he followed; and Fitzmaurice, with his huntsmen and whippers, and mounted grooms and led horses, passed." in shadowy review" before him. What was he now? A homeless, houseless wanderer; and, just emancipated from a prison, appeared a ready tool for any desperate party to employ. Of all the company, Mahony's companion fixed Henry's attention the most; he was a stout, middle-sized, middle-aged man, and of that particular appearance which renders it dif ficult for a stranger to assign him any definite rank in society. His dress, in its quality and fashion, was gentlemanly; and in his air there was freedom and boldness; but the features did not please the sallow countenance had cunning and duplicity lurking in its dark lines, and altogether it was a face that we cannot contem |