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Donal Bran observed him, he called him to his bedside, and, grasping him by the hand, said

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"He was sent for, Donal," replied Power, "and I am certain he will soon arrive. When I heard you were wounded I did not delay, but came with all speed to see you; however, I first sent a messenger to Clooneene, to apprise the Chief of what had happened to you."

"I know you are sorry, Power, to find me in this condition," said the Rapparee; "but before I depart, I wish to say a few words to you. The massacre that took place to-day was caused by Ronald Scott, who was slain by Fergus Keating after inflicting the wound of which I think I am now dying."

Here the Rapparee gave a deep sigh, and closed his eyes for a few moments; but, recovering himself, continued

"But I forgive him willingly, and those who joined him. In case I die before the Chief arrives, tell him that my last wish was for his welfare, and that I died convinced he would take care of Nora, and my orphan children. There is one other matter, however, which I wish to mention to you, lest my memory might be hereafter reproached if I concealed it. It is regarding that accursed money which I intended for our rightful King, but which will have been the cause of many deaths. I will now inform you where it is concealed, in order that if ever this country is invaded by the followers of the House of Stuart, you can use it for their advantage."

The Rapparee here paused for some moments, and then resumed, in a much more feeble voice

"I am dying fast, Power. Draw near, that you may hear, as my voice nearly fails me. You know that large rock in Bunnacippaun Wood; on the Rathorpe side of it"

At this moment the Chief of Clooneene entered. The dying man raised himself in his bed, and exclaimed-"He has come, he has come! my last wish is fulfilled." But the effort was too great, and, again sinking on his pillow, he heaved a deep sigh, while the blood flowed copiously from his mouth as he uttered the last word, and the spirit of Donal Bran, the bold Rapparee, the brave soldier, the faithful adherent of his unfortunate King, the defender of his religion, and the persevering patriot, burst the cords of life, and passed into eternity!! The Chief and Power rushed to the bed side, but on raising him up found that life was extinct.

"Power," said the Chief, "one of our most faithful followers is gone, though he deserved a better fate. In this way all our brave and stout

hearted Irishman are lost to Queen Anne. By penal laws and undeserved persecution, they are forced to become wanderers in a foreign land, fighting to support, with imperishable glory, the shreds of that glorious flag which they saved since the violation of the Treaty of Limerick. Their national character has been traduced, their national dress proscribed, and their national language excluded from our courts of justice and our schools. Our altars are trampled on and desecrated, our chapels and our abbeys are in ruin, our priests are tracked from the wood to the cave, and from the bog to the mountain, by the minions of the hated church, and are completely crushed beneath the iron heel of church ascendency, of bigotry and oppression, by an arbitrary power that ought to give us equal civil and religious rights, and then, and not until then, will they find us loyal and true subjects. If this had been done, that bold and brave heart whose pulse has now for ever ceased to throb would not have been an outlaw and a Rapparee!"

"There is truth in your words, my Chief," replied Power, "but though we have now the impress of serfdom on our brow, a time will yet come when the progress of civilization will make England appreciate our worth, and our country shall be recognised as the sister, and not the slave, of an alien power."

After this outburst, Power related to the Chief the valuable information concerning the treasure the deceased Rapparee was about communicating when he had entered the room. The Chief, after a short silence, said—

"It is, indeed, a serious loss that Donal was not spared time to tell where the treasure is hidden; but, perhaps, it may yet be discovered, as it is probable others of the band know where it is concealed (167). But, Power," continued the Chief, "you had better go at once to the scene of this dreadful tragedy which has terminated so fatally, and have any of the unfortunate Rapparees who may still survive conveyed to the houses of the nearest of my tenants, and see that they are well attended to. You can afterwards return with sufficient assistance, and have the dead properly interred."

By this time, a large number of Donal Bran's relatives and friends had arrived, who after venting their grief in loud lamentations, took out the body of the deceased, placed it on a cart, and had it conveyed to his house at Ballinaskagh.

CHAPTER L.

THE LYKE WAKE.

Ox arriving at the spot where the encounter had taken place, a dreadful scene presented itself to Sergeant Power's view. Heads and arms were miscellaneously strewn all over the field, while the mutilated bodies of the dead defied recognition, and the piteous and half-stifled groans of the few that still survived pierced his heart to the very core. The principal among the latter were O'Nee and Keating, whom, after a long search among the dead, Power discovered in a weak condition close to the corpse of Ronald Scott.

Paudrick Don now arrived with his horse and cart, in which the wounded were placed, and slowly driven to Ballynaskagh.

Power accompanied O'Nee and Keating to his own house, where they received all the attention their precarious condition required, and afterwards had the three other wounded Rapparees safely located in the houses of some of the villagers. He then hastened to Donal Bran's residence.

On entering, he found Una using all her powers of persuasion in trying to console Nora, whose grief for the loss of her husband, to whom she was tenderly attached, was almost uncontrollable. The scene was most touching, and Power's feelings having nearly overcome him, he did not stop to accost her, but quickly passed on to the next room, where the remains were placed.

The streaking (168) being over, the chamber had a most solemn appearance, which tended to impress the beholder with feelings of awe. In the far end, on a quaint oak bedstead, which was an heirloom in the family for many generations, covered with snow-white linen, lay all that was mortal of the once bold Rapparee, now cold and rigid in death. The body was stretched at full length, with the head resting on the pillow, and his arms, which even death had not yet bereft of their muscular appearance, were outside the tastefully-embroidered counterpane, which was the work of Nora's own hands. Over the head of the corpse hung a large wooden crucifix, and on the breast was placed a pewter plate, containing a small quantity of fine table salt (169). Beside the bed stood a plain deal table, on which were six large lighted candles, a missal, and a plate of snuff, and on a neat mahogany dressingtable at the foot burned a solitary candle (170), the glare of which fell

full on the pale face of the dead. In an old-fashioned book-case, in a recess in the wall, were about half-a-dozen roughly-bound books, which were long treasured by Donal, having been handed down to him by his father. The hearth was rather wide for the size of the room, and showed indications of the fire having been recently extinguished (171); while over the breast of the chimney were suspended the now rusty old gun which had been often carried through many a field of blood by the deceased's father, Donal's large silver watch, and a fine print of the Resurrection of our Redeemer.

Power advanced towards the bed, but, before trusting himself to look at the remains of his late friend, who had been one of his earliest companions, he fell on his knees, and prayed fervently for some time. Having finished his devotions, he gazed steadily for a few moments on the lifeless form that lay before him; and this brave soldier, who, during a life of warfare had often trampled over the bodies of thousands of the slain, and waded in many a battle-field almost ankle-deep in blood, could not now restrain the instincts of his better nature, and while the warm tears of sorrow for the fate of the Rapparee were gushing from his eyes, he departed from the room. On returning to the outer apartment, he observed several large casks of ale, bottles of usquebaugh, packages of tobacco, and long clay pipes, with other necessaries, which but too plainly told that the preparations for Donal Bran's lykewake (172) were being made. Outside the door he met O'Halloran, who, after conversing with him for some time on the melancholy subject of the Rapparee's death, said—

"I was sent by the Chieftain to tell you to send early in the morning to Ambrose Deane's, in Galway, for as many black silk scarfs as you think will be sufficient for the bidders."

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Very well, Shane," said Power; "I will send Paudrick Don as soon as it is daylight. I intended going to Clooneene to see if the Chief had any commands for me, but as you have come I need not do so. I suppose you will remain during the night at poor Donal's lyke

wake ?"

"Indeed I will," replied O'Halloran, "and I am sure you will

also."

"Yes," said Power, "I am going in there now, so we may as well be together."

At the door they were met by two of Donal's cousins, busily engaged distributing pipes and tobacco; and each having taken a pipe from the large wicker basket, passed into the kitchen, where, seating themselves before the fire, they smoked at their leisure. People were

now arriving from all directions, so that in a short time the house became quite crowded. The women chiefly assembled round the corpse, and some through sincere sorrow for Donal, and others from regret for their own departed relatives (173), whom the sight of the remains brought to their recollection, wept aloud at intervals; while the men suppressed their sorrow, and occasionally during the night seated themselves at the kitchen fire to listen to some of the old shanahies among them, who related several anecdotes of their country's ancient history, which had suffered alike from the Danes and the Sassenachs. O'Donoghue with his harp, who arrived from Clooneene early in the evening, about eleven o'clock approached the bed where the remains lay, and played in a low strain the Caineadh which he had composed for the occasion. After he concluded, the men, who had been attracted from the kitchen by the tones of the harp, again renewed their story-telling, but were interrupted every hour by the bearer of a large plate of snuff, who offered each a pinch as he passed round. When the first streaks of approaching day began to appear in the horizon, the younger portion of the mourners, after having partaken of a repast of bread, cheese, and ale, returned to their respective homes, leaving the older people to watch during the day at the house of death.

Some of those who attended the lykewake went, during the day, to Bunnacippaun Wood, to inter the bodies of the slain Rapparees.

When the sable clouds of night had again set in, the youth of the neighbourhood returned to the lykewake.

Next morning, Paudrick Don having returned from Galway, Power distributed the silk scarfs amongst the bidders (174), who then departed to the surrounding villages.

At eight o'clock Father Dermot arrived, accompanied by a man carrying what appeared to be a basket of hay (175). Having prepared a temporary altar, Power sent out several scouts, who volunteered to keep a sharp look-out while the priest celebrated Mass (176). After the Gospel of St. John, the Mass being concluded, the priest approached the bed, read the De Profundis, sprinkled holy water on the face of the dead, and then bestowed his benediction on the congregation, after which he addressed them by saying-he hoped the time was not far distant when the whole of his parishioners could attend without danger to themselves at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, and without being obliged to place sentinels on every adjacent hill, to herald the approach of their cruel enemies.

Father Dermot then divested himself of his vestments, and was conducted into a neat little parlour, where breakfast was prepared for him.

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