The Sun.
London, England, 1827-01-31 00:00:00

were the invaders firing on the dragoons in the rear; and from the
front came the shout, " Draw up ! The road is blocked !" A
Yell rose--the genuine Irish war-whoop,—showers of heav:
missiles were hurled from above, while below the horses were as
sailed by spikes and pike-headed staves. The man whom his fir
had missed Grahame now grappled with in the dark—endeavour
ing, at the same time, to rein in the horses which were becomin
restive, and threatening to back upon the dragoon party in th
rear, who having fired their pistols almost at random, were ahead:.
borne back by a vigorous assault of the rebels or robbers,—e;
were they both ?
"press on—we will win a way! use pistol and sabre, an
spare not !" exclaimed Grahame.
The 'voice, heard above the confusion of that agitating moment,
was followed by a rallying cheer, and a rapid discharge of fire-
arms on both sides. It was now Wolfe's thought to leap down
and join his friends ; but it seemed the object of the desperate
man who had dropt from the trees, to convert the vehicle and the
four champing and restive animals into a dreadful instrument of
destruction against the soldiers ; and this could be frustrated
only by his maintaining this dangerous post, exposed to the fire of
both friends and foes.
"At deadly peril to your friends you fire," shontcd Wolfe's
prisoner, in the well-known voice of Slattery:
" Villain ! this is the reward of my remissness. Fire, men !
Think not of friends but foes ! Thcy cluster round me—aboVe—
below! They are possessing themselves of the Mail papers."
Dennis Slattery had been the night before ou the'eame
coach, but left it at the last stage, to est.-P.7)e the vengeance
of O'Toole. His character is,
Rougemantle, or Bess SlattP:,.y, ;1"..e that of his sister,
powerfully drawn :
" We may parley, now.,
the reins. Captain," he said very coolly, as he re-
gained" 7. meant you fair, nor would I harm you ;
but one I thouvi- was within the fiend ! the monster !—I will
have hisbh,od. Informer—traitor—murderer of the Dorans,—
I will 1-‘p his blood !" And his eyes flashed out in the starlight,
sjle.e.ving his wild and impassioned features, as if by the light of
the fiery spirit within.
• Wolfe again became extremely faint, and sunk back on his
wretched lair. His companion plied him a second timewith his
strong cordial, and even held it to his lips. "By all the saints
that hallow this blessed night and every night, I meant no ill to
you. Did I not warn you ? The boys needed the blunt—the
captain, the arms and papers—and I—l thirsted—l panted for his
blood—his blood ! The cowardly ruffian shrunk from the jour-
ney. But I have sworn it--sad she has sworn it double. We'll
compass him yet:—to die the next hour were pleasure." And
he knitted his In owe) denched his teeth, and put k !red his eyelids
till the eyes emitt.,,a that intense, concentrated tiger-glance, dark-
ling and flaPiing, which gave his face its unpleasing phy-
siogn°n2i'lal distinction.
e••
'..ilattery bears Wolfe to a chapel, where the funeral of
The beheaded Felix Doran is to be performed. He there
shuts him up in the interior of one of the pillars, from
which he beholds-the mournful ceremony. Chaunette
runs off with the head of Doran, and bears it to the chapel.
She is accosted by Slattery, with—
" My brave Chaunette, you have brought your dowry in your
lap—and won your husband !" was the whisper overheard by
Grahame..--" There is one bloody head dearer yet ;—but my own
right hand must gain me that."
" Och then, Dennis a-chree! and do not say it;" sobbed the
girl ; and at the tinkling of the bell they dropped on their knees,
tide by side, still clasping each others hands. The priest, an
aged 'wasted, but venerable-looking man, entered by a side-door,
'awl was followed by two female figures, whom Wolfe instantly re-
'cognised. A deep black veil, in the fashion of those worn' by
professed nuns, enveloped the lady.
Once, as she arose, the veil dropt aside, -and again, with a
feeling of almost superstitious reverence, Wolfe held his breath as
he gazed on the pale shadowy mother of his Elizabeth.
But we have done—leaving the full tide of interest for the
..gratification of the reader. The meeting of Elizabeth with
.k.;t4,llLord De Bruce—and the scene which ensues between
..-awitherriuLis conceived in the very spirit of genius,' and
.d..tfitlitect with all the pathos of a fervid imagination.