Valentine M'Clutchy, The Irish Agent / The Works of William Carleton, Volume Two

alous Vision-Letter from Squire Beake

t repose of twilight, in which may be perceived the subsiding stir of busy life as it murmurs itself into slumber, after the active pursuits of day. On a green upland lawn, that was a sheep walk, some portions of which were studded over with the blooming and fragrant furze, stood an old ecclesiastical ruin, grey from time, and breathing with that spirit of vague but dreamy reverie, which it caught from the loveliness of the season, the calmness and the golden light of the hour, accessories, that, by their influence, gave a solemn beauty to its very desola

and gorgeous beams fell only upon the surrounding uplands, now lit into purple, leaving the valleys and lower parts of the country to repose in that beautiful shadow which can be looked upon from the higher parts, only through the crimson glory of the departing light. And now the sun has disappeared-is gone-but still how beautiful is the fading splendor that sleeps for a little on the mountain tops, then becomes dimmer and dimmer-then a faint streak which gradually melts away until it is finally lost in the soft shadows of that thoughtful hour. And even thus passeth away all human glory! The ruin which we have mentioned stood about half way between the residence of Brian M'Loughlin and the mountain village to which we have alluded. Proceeding homewards from the latter place, having performed an errand of mercy and charity, was a very beautiful girl,

nner. Mary M'Loughlin was a girl of strong mind and firm character, and not likely to feel alarmed by any groundless cause of apprehension. She immediately recogniz

," she proceeded, "to see you in

mountains this many a day; an' I wouldn't be h

having prosecuted and transported her profligate son. Without the slightest apprehension on that account, she felt, however, a

t at my hands; but for all that,

served any evil at

r for all that, an' it's not usual to

been honest, he might I still be a comfort and a credit to you, instead of a shame and a sorrow. I don't I mean, nor do I wish to hurt your fe

count-I am here to tell you, that there is danger about you and before you, and to put you on your guard against it. I am here, Miss Mary M'Lough

e an enemy. What danger could a simple inoffensive girl l

and did my duty-you're now warned, so be

not told me what it is, where it's to come fr

n tell you, it's threatening you, and it comes

smiled with the confidence of innocence,

enemy; at all events I am deeply obliged to you, still if you could mention what the danger is,

ute; I have run a risk in doin' this-only promise me, to keep what I said to you a sa

ord of your conversation to my father and family, the moment I reach home. If, as you say, th

"this is a matther of mere indifference to you: it's to me

e no secrets f

is merely to say nothing? However, since I must speak out-you'll put more than me in danger-t

light seemed sudden

; our marriage at no distant day being sanctioned by both our

oor worthless self out of danger, may be out of bloodshed-don't mention a syllable of this meetin' to any one; but of all persons livin' to himself,

l ears of poor innocent Mary, whilst of her address as a diplomatist in the plots and pursuits of love, she was utterly ignorant. Naturally unsuspicious, as we have already said, she looked upon the woman's knowing character rather as a circumstance calculated to corroborate the truth of the mystery which she, must have discovered: and was so much moved by the unq

just taken place, when a rich voice, with which she was well acquainted, addressed her. She started, and on turning about, found Fran

one in this place, my dear Mary, and

rview with Poll, therefore, had excited apprehensions concerning Harman's safety, which disturbed her far more t

has disturbed or alarmed you, my sweet Mary? I feel your heart be

uth was like her love of life or of heaven, a sacred and instinctive principle which she must now not only viola

t altogether without cause; I have been somewhat disturbed, but it will no

took the short way, thinking to find you there. But what has

e into his face, although there tremble

ircumstance of much importance. It is a little secre

to know if the woman that

nk; but such as the secret is,

nceal nothing from either your family or me, which might be d

aid she, "I feel

r little darling were in possession of a secret which we ough

s," she replied, with as much composure as she could assume, "do not press me on the subject;-I cannot speak

ubject until you resume it yourself-h

recovering, and want nourishment, which, with the

eet Mary," said he, looking down tenderly into her beauti

do you know that while her children were ill, his bailiff, Darby O'Drive, by his orders or authority, or some claim or oth

ly the unhappy tenantry of the Topertoe family find him. Harsh and heartless as he is, however, what would he be were it no

s too comical, Frank-but I am n

ad the modesty to propose a matrimoni

that is easily accounted for-my father, I know,

hemous old squire, and of the virtuous and celebrated Kate

uddering, "the very though

d Harman, "and the less that is said about it

evening was advanced, and he had still to go as far as Castle Cumber, upon business connected w

ind; not that he entertained the slightest possible suspicion of Mary's prudence or affection; but he felt a kind of surprise at the novelty of the position in which he saw she was placed, and no little pain in consequence of the disagreeable necessity for silence which she a

deed every pedestrian acquainted with it, was in the habit of passing, and on the night in question he was proceeding along it at a pretty quick pace, when, having reached the beeches just alluded to, he perceived two figures, a male and female, apparently engaged in close and earnest conversation. The distance at first was too great to enable him to form any opinion as to who they were

now established beyond the possibility of a doubt; a fact which lent to both her interviews a degree of mystery that confounded Harman. On thinking over the matter coolly, he could scarcely help believing that Her appearance here was in some way connected with the, circumstances which had occasioned Mary so much agitation and alarm. This suspicion, however, soon gave way to a more generous estimate of her character, and he could not permit himself for a moment to imagine the existence of anything that was prejudicial to her truth and affection. At the same time he felt it impossible to prevent himself from experiencing a strong sense of anxiety, or perhaps we should say, a feeling of involuntary pain, which lay like a dead weight upon his heart and spirits. In truth, do what he mig

s assiduously for his advancement in life as if he had been gifted with a catalogue of all human vir

ght Hon. L

e forthcoming Election. The fellow pretends to have a conscience, and be cursed to him-prates about the Union-preaches against corruption-and talks about the people, as if they were fit to be anything else than what they are. This is a pretty fellow for you to have as an agent to your property. Now, I'll tell you what, my Lord-you know old Deaker well. His motto is-'Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die-' I'll tell you what, I say; I have a mortgage on your property for fourteen thousand pounds. Now, put in Val or I'll be speaking to my lawyer about it. Put in Val, or you will never warm your posteriors in a seat for this county, so long as I carry the key of it. In doing so, make no wry faces about it-you will only serve yourself and your property, and serve Val into the bargain. Val, to be sure, is as confounded a scoundrel as any of us, but then he is a staunch Protestant; and you ought

old

al De

say that if you write this beggarly devil, Hickman, a sharp letter for money, he may probably save you the troubl

s you de

D

especially when he happened to get a man in his power from whom he wished to extort a favor, or on whom he wished to inflict an injury. In the present instance he felt perfectly conscious of his power over the heartless profligate, to whom he wrote su

thousand pounds, and if M'Clutchy is to get the agency, I must have the money-so there is my must as well as yours. In the meantime I ha

ou

mbe