Tales of My Time, Vol. II (of 3)

joyous open countenance smiled upon the social board. No cheerful conversation seasoned the frugal repast. A deadly silence knew no interruption except from some endeavour at d

sapping the vital holds of her constitution. Oh! and her unnatural sons were so insensible to her decline, that though witnessing its progress, we neither tried to mitigate the symptoms, nor to console, though it might not be permitted us to remed

able, family prayers, and "good night;" a parting wish now reduced to lifeless form by the absence of that affection which, where it grows, imparts and receives a new spring at each recurring assurance of its existence. Our evenings wer

ld prove the signal for a simultaneous rising of the people. Many were secretly departing from their homes to wait the issue in a place of safety. Others, unable to quit their local property, or desert their duty, were employed in using precautionary means to meet the threatened danger. Revolt and massacre were talked of. Servants were unfaithful to their masters. Tenants conspired against their landlords. The kind "good morrow" of the passing rustic was converted into a sullen scowl; and a

d torrents of rain broke loose from the clouds, as if a water-spout had that moment burst over Glendruid. Such was the unremitting violence of this deluge that no one

d to keep aloof from each other. Sensible of the deep wounds which we had inflicted, my brothers and I had no inclination to encounter the reproach which we justly deserved, and therefore avoid

ng fast upon the dejected circle, they drew their chairs involuntarily round a sullen fire, which none of the party appeared inclined to stir, lest a cheerful blaze might seem too strongly contrasted with the gloomy features on which it pla

time to time on the pale and agitated countenances around me, I felt oppressed by a sensation which was not easy to define. It was neither fear nor affection, but it was a mixture of repentance, with that desire of communion natural to most mortals under the influence of extraordinary excitement. The billows roared tremendously, and every da

an usual to their several apartments. When I reached mine, overcome by the struggle of feelings which too often slumbered, I threw myself into an old arm-cha

ose, secretive, frigid philosophy-be the road to happiness? Are those who have thrown off the ties of

ely into the language of supplication, and broke into an agony of prayer. A few minutes more, and I firmly believe that I should have been found weeping on my mother's neck. How she would have clasped the penitent to her bosom! But in the very instant when I was rising from the ground, the door of my roo

and mortified at having been caught in a posture of humiliation, my wretched

e here, Albert; God bless

ain suffer such intrusion," I extinguished my candle in a rage, and plunged into my bed, but not to rest. To sleep was not so easy; the storm increased every moment, and though I had never been wanting i

that influenced our conduct. The fact was, that like all agitators we were impelled by motives as various as the several characters on which they operated, and were kept together by an imaginary bond to which, for the convenience of compact, we gave a name very foreign from our real purposes, and in reality litt

vile not the principle but its application, and the same conduct which is the theme of our reprobation

the lobby, I found the whole family assembled. My mother stood in a listening attitude, holding a little lamp, which she always kept burning at night, in her hand, and ere we had time to interchange a sentence, the sound of a sec

ce to the sufferers. Here was a crisis which broke through the reserve which had become habitual amongst us, by one of those forcible appeals to humanity that bear

my sensations at this moment will not seem strange to you. I had not expressed any sorrow for the past, nor lowered my dignity by any promise of amendment for the future; yet here I was on a sudden, running to and fro, and talking familiarly with father, mother, brothers, and sisters, as if harmony had never been disturbed. Those, on the other han

a candle, which he put into the great stable-lanthorn, he called Harold, Charles, and me, to accompany him. Away w

age of destruction; the waves rolled mountains high, and dashed with wild impetuosity upon the rocks, roaring in thunder as they approached the shore. Gun after gun was fired, but at such a distance that we despaired of being useful. We knew not how or whither to direct our efforts, but stood close together, trying to resist t

As we descended, a fearful scream of anguish met our ears, after which we heard no more. All but the raging of the st

but received no answer. M'Farlane, the old Scotchman, proposed that we should go farther down along the shore to a little creek, in which Kelly's boat was usually moored. When arrived at the spot, there was no boat there. We hallooed again, but in vain; no living being seemed within hearing; all

f Henry Talbot. The shock of this discovery was indescribable. A thousand vague, yet terrible surmises rushed upon my imagination, and before we were able to retrace our path to Kelly's hut, where we determined to wait the break

with straw, and a blanket, served for a bed in this lowly habitation; and taking the candle from our lanthorn lighted a few dry sticks which were piled in a corner. We then removed poor Norah to the fire, took off her old water-soaked cloak, and began to rub her hands and feet with all our strength. We discovered a bundle of r

t. While my brothers and I were thus busily occupied, M'Farlane drew from the corner cupboard, in which I had found the bottle, a small bit of soiled paper fol

ty. Finish the good work which you have begun. I depend also on Norah and the boys. If we succeed in getting him safely out of the country, all will be well. She will see him

s, tr

it is. Here is a plot, and the plotters are taken in their

o apprise us of the actors, it was plain enough that Kelly and his sons had been employed with their boat to convey some mysterious personage from the coast; while it was equally manifest that the writer of the bille

e wicked folly of the times." He was hence a person of whom we stood in some awe, and with whom we held very little communion, considering him, as we did, no better tha

d to think it would be time enough to obey the injunctions of his correspondent by destroying it. The words already noticed were written with pen and ink, but on

our lips up the hill. Many matters now aflo

this expression, and that I was one of those to be kept in the dark respecting all proceedings. We who had toiled early and late, sacrificed

pportunity of resenting it, though caution would be necessary, lest I might injure my cause with Albinia by renouncing all future league with her brothers. My resolution was no

stricken Norah. After many fruitless efforts, they at length accomplished their object. A few drops of the cordial whisky were

ere are you? Where is

and children, she relapsed into another swoon, long and d

She gave no answer to our entreaties that she would try and compose herself. In vain did we inquire what had happened, and ask how we could possibly afford her any relief. She did not reply to a single question, but rollin

l our return. Just as we were going to take Norah from her cabin, the sagacious Scotchman bethought him of an expedient which operated like magic on the wretched mourner. He recollected the national superstition, and exclaimed, in a

een shot, and would have rushed out of the house, if we had not fas

unhappy, if you do not tell all you know, and let us try and find t

rated the frenzied Norah; "Go to the

k Point at this unseasonabl

e boat, gramachre

doing in such

n," was the poor cre

too well when it was coming on to blow hard. He would not venture his own life or that of his sons in such

t when a big wave (oh then, oh then, oh then!) hised away the boat and capsized it. There's no more to be tould, only my darlens is gone, holy Mary mark 'em to glory, and 'tis I that's di

h for me, that them that's gone, is gone. Oh! cuis

ith the rest of 'em, and will be without christian burial too, while you will be laid in the ground as if you had a soul to be saved. I wonder, Mr. Albert, whether the party in the boat were lost before they reached the ship, or whether they ever were able to put the stranger on board." Norah had not t

Misther Mickfaarlin, would never laive you alone if you spaik. Oh! Sir, and the widdy's blessen on you, don

name who was with him, and your fortune is as good as made. If you speak truth, my master will send an account of it all

'nt we be riden in a coche and six long ago fur spaiken plain, but though they're down in the salt sai, I'll not fret 'em, I'll hould my tongue, and Misther Mickfaarlin, if you war'nt a sassenah (no offence, Sir), you would'nt be the one to turn the harts

of poor Norah, and her enthusiastic fidelity even to the shades of those who had been dear to her, put to shame all who, without a spark of disinterested zeal, first involved, and then abandoned a people, many of whom gave proofs like this of the tenderest and most unselfish attachment. Norah, suddenly recollecting that the removal of the dog might damp the spirit of investigation, seized a spade which stood in the hut against the wall, and turning up the cl