The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1846-01-13 00:00:00

Lord Roche shuddered, and cried—

" Speak not of it

, Eleanor—spare me !"

The lady looked up amazed—
" What means this, dear Maurice ? I know that
some secret woe hangs heavy at your heart. Confide
in me, my husband, and if I cannot soften the grief
which preys on you, permit me at least to siare it."
" Oh, Eleanor, ask not this," replied her lord,
not to unlock a secret which conceals unspeakable woe.
I alone am the depository—you shall know it too soon—
alas! too soon."
Mournfully repeating the last words, the noble would
have risen ; but gently laying her fairy fingers on hit
doublet, the lady restrained him.
`• Maurice," she exclaimed with tenderness,
left my father's halls at Ashby, and'sailed the
thee, I have ever studied to bear myself towards you as a
fond wife should."

" since I
e sea with

The noble pressed her band to his lips with fondness.
" When leagured by the kern, I never blenched ;
when 'aken by the gallowglass I cried boldly till you
came to the rescue. At thy bidding I braided my hair
with pearls, and wore my brocade stuffs at the court of
the lord deputy, though I fain would content me in this
castle of thine. But why recur to these thoughts ? I ask
--nay, I demand your confidence, dear husband. The

wife should be to man as the ivy round the tree, clinging
the closer when the wind blows keenest."

Lord Roche rose to his stately height, and clasped his
fair wife to his breast.

"Faithfully and fondly, dearest Eleanor, hast thou
ever comported thyself to me," he replied ; " and, did
evil of mortal kind haunt me, to none would I confide
it more readily than to thee, or from none would I gain
clesrer counsel, or sager advice, to help me through the
strait, be it ever so sorely beset. Alas ! no kern or gal-
lowglass threatens our fortunes now. Would that it
were so! My men-at-arms and gallant knights would
soon scatter them like chaff before the wind." _ _

" Nay, then, I must know the secret that robs thy
bosom of its rest.'

`• Well, Elean3r, be it so. I tell t
for nought earthly can avert the decrees of fate, and to
heaven we commit our child."

The lady resumed her seat by her lord's side, and he
continued—

" At the last parliament of the Pale, I heard much con-
cerning a man learned beyond all others in occult sciences,
and surnamed Nathan the Astrologer. His fame was whis-

pered in the court ; but no one of our lords could induce him
to disclose the secrets of futurity, no matter what guerdon
they offered, for Nathan is rich beyond belief. Impelled
by curiosity to behold the famous soothsayer, I left the

lOrd deputy's table one afternoon, and strolled by the Lif-
fey's banks in the direction of the ruined preceptory of

the Knights Templars, at Kilmainham—among which, I
understood, Nathan had chosen to reside. The shades of
evening closed over me, ere I left the city's walls, and the
watch-fires cast a lurid blaze upon the distant hills; but
the moon arose, and, as her silver beams fell upon the
proud pile of the Templars, methought I never witnessed
a grander or more solemn spectacle. I had taken a seat
almost unconsciously on the prostrate columns of the en-
trance, end- wrz turiVriog my eyes to glance from broken

tower to fallen b.ittgement, my thoughts ever recur ing to
thee, dearest, and to our only child, when the toll of a
bell from the distant city came to mine ear. Its tones,
muffled by distance, were so meet for the hour, that my
feelings kept time to their chiming, and it was not nntil
roused from my reverie by the presence of a stranger,
that I recollected the knell was for a parted soul. The
stranger appeared a man evidently past the prime of life,
for grey locks fell down by the side of fe,ttures furrowed

Ca
by the ploughshare of time. His aquiline nose, black
eyes, and thick lips denoted an eastern origin, to which
the turban on his head added confirmation. For the rest,
he wore the long white mantle of the templars ; but in-
stead of the heavy, double-edged sword, the terror of the
infidels, wore a light sabre, resplendent with jewels.
' Who art thou that thus intiudest on my privacy ?' de-
manded the stranger. I briefly stated my name—that,
tempted by the beauty of the night, I bad prolonged my
walk, and ere I returned, paused to admire the ruins.
feared the low, base-born feeling of curiosity had
tempted the Lord Roche hither,' said Nathan, for it was
he; but it is well—avoid curiosity, it is the passion of
vulgar minds. Fate is in the hands of God—he sees what
we should know, and imparts the knowledge duly." Nay,
forgive me, illustrious sir, if I ask thee to inform me on
one point.' Foolibb, foolish man! what seekest thou?'
he replied. ' Ask not—know not!' The fate of my boy
—how long to live, and how to die?' Oh, fatal question!
—imprudent curiosity Slowly and mournfully the as-
trologer repeated the following lines, which tears, like
biting acid, have graven on my memory

"Twenty times shall Avonmore
O'er sands her wintry waters pour ;
Twenty times the darksome stream
Shall mirror the bright summer gleam ;
Twenty years the youth hath sped,
Another, lo I the youth is dead !
By water sure, his death must be—
He thus shall fill his destiny.' "

The noble gazed anxiously on his lady as he repeated
these lines ; but though her heart swel!ed with agony,
her presence of nu:nd never deserted her, and no outward
or visible sign betrayed the maternal solicitude. He con-
tinued—

" The moment the last words of the astrologer died
away in the night breeze, and I had recovered from
the stunning effects of his sad prediction, I found myself
alone. Where Nathan had departed I could not discover,
though for hours I rambled amid the venerable pile, to
ascertain if there was no way of averting the doom. How
desolate felt the tenantless walls, now silent and deserted.
I remembered well, on my fir,t appearing at the Court,
the superb banquet that was given in the hall I wandered
in that night, saJ and heart-broken. Then it blazed with
jewels, and the proud array of chivalry. The hum of
many voices seemed again present at mine ear ; but all
were dead or banished. I looked on the stalls of the
knights—their seats were vacant, and their banners torn
with ignominy from the scene of their gorgeous blazonry.
The evening had given way to night ; and, as the dew fell
heavy and cold, 1 thought of our dear boy's watery grave,
and hurried back, fearful at being alone, "Thenceforth,
as you remarked, life has become a blank to me. I ab-
sented onset from the council on plea of indisposition,
and mingled no more in tilt-yard or banquet. I returned

hither at the close of the session, feart.al of presenting
myself sooner, lest it should alarm thee sweet one; and
oh ! that I should bear such dismal tidings—that, after a
lapse of a few short years, our dear boy must cease to ex-
ist—that his sunny smile will greet ns no more—his ac-
cents cease to answer our call—his eyes be closedin death.
%1 hat have I done, oh, God! to draw down such a cala-
mity on our house ?"

"Maurice," said the lady, her voice struggling with
sorrow, " you have told a tale of woe; but who can
vouch for the truth? Predictions have been often unful-
filled, and this may be a false one."

" Heaven grant it may, dearest. I never thought of
that."

•' No, Mauricro. I perceived you only looked at the
dark side. Have confidence in the Almighty—oar child's
life is in his hands. He gives and takes away—blessed be
his name!"

" But. the prediction hangs over him," observed Lord
Roche.

" The time stated for its accomplishment is far distant,"
replied the lady. " Gerald is barely thirteen, and no
danger threatens for seven years."
" Meanwhile, then, I will select a site, and build a
tower for his residence," said her husband; "and when
be passes his twentieth year, be shall live where no water
can come nigh him, to wet his ancles, and we shall have
him safe and sound."

Thus mutually comforting and solacing etch other,
as is meet in all domestic trials, the lord and the lady
returned to the castle. Ye,rs rolled swiftly on —not
unmarked, however, in Castletown-Roche. The story
of the prediction got abroad ; and many an aged head
shook doubtingly on hearing the great preparations the
Lord was making to avert the fate of his heir.
As the time approached for the fulfilment of the pro-
phecy, Lord Roche resolved to try and avert tne ace, om-
plishment, and selected the eastern extremity of the Nan-
gle's Mountains as a spot remote from the element which
was predestined to deprive his son of life. Here he col-
lected materials and skilful workmen ; and, before the
heir of the title and estates of Maurice Lord Roche com-
pleted his twentieth year, a spacious. tower looked from
the top of Cairn-Thierna over the vast extent of country
beneath. _ _ _

The twentieth birth-day came, and Gerald Rocbe was
-0! that father could wish the son who was to inherit his
~:ti, and name,. or mother's care could form. Manly,
yet gentle—accomplished in all that befitted his rank.
Gerald was not only the darling of his parents, but tire
delight of all who knew him; and there was not a lip of
man or woman, as he rode by his father's side to enter
his new abode, but prayed for the safe return of young
Gerald Roche.
The youth rode by his father's side. Tie was separated
from his mother fur the first time, and there is something
at all times in parting, from those we love that brings sad-
ness to the heart, and depresses the spirits. We miss
the accustomed features that ever met us with the kindly

smile, the voice that greeted us with the softest tone—and
what smile or what voice ever reached us like our mo-
ther's!

For a time Lord Roche and his son rode on in silence ;
but the sorrows of the young are of short duration ; their

elastic spirits quickly recover, each object affording no-
velty serves to dissipate their grief. They pursued their
journey over the Ballyhooly mountains on a pleasant day
in spring. The winter had been cold and desolate, and
nature seemed to rejoice at its departure. The snowdrop
was seen, with its round white blossoms, and the yellow
primrose gleamed from the tender blades of green. The

Girds seemed to enjoy a holiday, and piped merrily like
boys released from school. These sights and sounds had
their effect on the youthful heart of Gerald. He talked
with his father on the sports he would enjoy in the vici-
nity of his mountain castle. The hills were full of hares
he was told, and his greyhounds were remarkable for
fleetness. Then he would practice with long and cross
bow, and win the President of Munster's prize at the next
archery meeting. The master of the stable was to entrust
the breaking in of a young colt of great beauty entirely to
him, for amusement, and bis mother promised to spend
the entire summer with him, as soon as her apartments
were ready ; for, owing to a delay in the drying of the
plastering, only one sleeping apartment was sufficiently
aired for safety. With such converse they whiled away
the road, until the castle of the mountain loomed against

the skies.
" Oh, how noble!" ex
air, piercing the clouds,
to inhabit.

"imed young Roche, as high in
eld the tower he was about

His father said nothing ; for his heart was full of the
fatal prediction, and he wound up the steep ascent mourn-
fully and thoughtful.

"This is glo-rious," said the young man, as they paused
mid-way to give the horses breath. Already they had as-
cended considerably above the plains, yet the tower was
as high again as they were from the spot where they di-
verged from the level road. Whichever way they looked,

the eyes took a vast and varied prospect. Beneath lay
mountain and moor, valley and plain dotted with villages
and habitations of peasants, rivers flashed in the far dis-
tance. Lord Roche shuddered as he saw the waters, but
considered the distance and thought of safety.
The cool breeze of the mountain caused a chill which
invited motion, and the pair continued their ascent. Ar-
rived at the castle, they were received with cheers by the
workmen, who were engaged finishing some work on the
outer walls, and the young man rapidly hurried through
the various portions of the dwelling with the eagerness of
His father could not keep pace with him. The

. .
topmost window commanded a splendid view. The sight
embraced a rich line of country, enclosed between the
Bride and the Blackwater rivers, with the waving trees of
numerous forests stretching along the banks. The lofty
Galty mountains seemed a wall to the north ; while the
waters of the distant sea, near Cork harbour, glimmered
with reflected sunshine to the south. The day was un-
commonly calm, and not too bright, and objects were
seen at an almost incredible distance.

Perfectly engrossed in the splendour and variety of
landscape, Lord Roche for some minutes absolutely for.
got the purpose which led him thither ; and when he
awoke to consciousness, his son was no longer by kis side.
He called " Gerald," but no Gerald answered. He sum-
moned his attendants; their young master was not with
them. They called the workmen ; be was not with them.
Breathless, Lord Roche descended, running into each
chamber, and calling out his son's name. The portal
was reached, bit no Gerald ; the scrutiny of the detached
towers was equally fruitless—he was not to be found ! A
large vat stood at a distance, a huge black funeral object,
used, during the building, to hold water for the making
of mortar ; it was nearly full, from the winter rains, and
something like a bird floated on the surface. Lord Roche
appeared. Gracious heaven !-if was an ostrich feather,
such as his son wore in his cap. He looked closer—Oh,
God !—the green and stagnant contents held his beloved
son, secured in the gripe of death ! What induced Lim to
climb the slippery side ? whether the reflection of his
figure in the water tempted him to venture in, is unknown,
but he was d TF

rowned, and fulfilled the prediction
castle soon went to decay, and the vast heap of stones on
the brow of Cairn-Thierna attests the truth of the tale.

SECONI

•

Standard-office, 2 o'clock

LIVERPOOL C RN EXCHANGE. This DAY