The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1868-07-26

rently uninjureA, then 1t began visibay to tot
ter. Another moments and it was swaying back
storm; and yet another and, as n-ih q last
| wild effort to escape fromLthe flames that
swathed it, it plunged right over the cliffs, the
crumbling from rock to rock till they fell with
| a roar like thunder into the waters underneath.
Both girls, ut the first symptom of the catas-
| trophe impending, had instinctively shut their
eyes but Roger, on the contrary, looked on as
steadily as if he were keeping count of every
falling stone in order to set it down in his
debt of vengeance against those who had done
! the deed. Not syllable, however did he utter,
until the last stone had fallen, and the last fiery
CLEAN disappeared from the cliff; but then, as if
threw up his arms toward heaven, and exclaimed
+" MeH,-~emeF,- and children, all sent before
their time to judgment! o God! what punish
ment hast thou reserved in this world OF the
as thisw
Course me not-curse me not" cried Hen
rietta, with anguish in her voice. "The doom,
God knows, is heavy enough already"
Course you w said the astonished Roger,
" you, to whom I owe more than my own life q
thousand times. Nay, Mistress Henrietta what
madness has made you fear it Z"
81 fear! fear! Why should notf' sobbed Hem
rietta. "The sin of the parents shall be visited
on the children, and he is my father, after all ~
"Your father! your father !" Roger muttered,
trying to keep down the storm of passion that
was choking him. Well, we'll, he is, as you
say, your father, must, perforce, be silent ~
Alas alas!" Henrietta pleaded, if you did
but know the completeness of his religious
mania, you would also comprehend how easily
a man mercful in all things else, can in this
one thing be merciless.
think, no great stretch ofintellect to understand
it thoroughly. A man, fresh from the siege of
Tredagh, where children were dashed from the
battlements, lest, like nits, they should be-
come troublesome, if suffered to increase will,
doubtless, merely consider the holocaust of hui
man life which lies buried beneath yonder
in the nostrils of the Lord, which he, his
high priest, has been deputed to offer up.'
He broke off suddenly, for a hand was laid
to his. "Speak not thus of her father" wins
pered Nellie. "Speak not thus; see how she
is weeping!'
"Her tears are his best plea for mercy, them"
said he in a gentler tone, and Selling the oars
he began to row as vigorously as if he hoped to
quiet his boiling spirit by the mere fact of bodily
exhaustion. Nellie made no answer, and silence
| fell upon them all.
The deed just done was not of nature lightly
to be forgotten, and they went quietly on their
great terror still hangs heavily. Just, how
ever, as they entered the harbor of Glare Is
| land, Nellie, caught sight of well-known fig
ure, and uttered a cry of joy. 1t was Hamish,
and, in her impatience she scarcely waited un-
til the boat was fastened ere she was at his
side. But there was no gladness in his eye as
he turned to greet her. He was deadly pale,
and his left arm hung powerless at his side
Nellie saw nothing Of this at first however, she
was thinking entirely of her mother.
els she come, dear Hamish" she cried,
"Where is she 7"
"In Dublin" he answered CURLY
elm Dublin and you here p cried Nellie, in
dismay.
because she sent me-" he replied.
!" What is it Hamishf What is it ?" faltered
Nellie, struggling with sense of some new and
terrible misfortune impending over her.
, She is sore siek-sck even u unto death.
bring himself to utter the terrible truth s-yet.
Nellie stood for moment mute with terror.
She read upon her foster-brothcrs face that
worse news than even this was about to follow
but when she would have asked what it was,
courage and voice completely failed her. She
knew it, however, soon enough. From his seat
by the door of the tower, Lord Ncttcrville had
caught a glimpse of Hamish, and came down at
once to greet him. Excitement seemed for one
brief moment to have restored all his tacul-
ties, and he cried out eagerly:
"iou here, good Hamish-I am heartily glad
| to see you! And what news bring you from
Netterville How goes my lady daughter! III
do you say-sore-strickcni Nay, man, remem
Der that she is still but young 1t cannot surely
be an illness unto death :!
"Yea, but it is, my lord said Iiamish speak
| ing almost roughly in his agony. Death, and
nothing short OF DEATH surely as that am
here to say it.
cart thou a prophet! ," asked Roger, beuding
his dark brows upon him, and half tempted to
suspect n snare. "Art thou a prophet, that thou
darest to speak thus confidently of the future ~
"Sir," said Hamish, driven at last beyond
his patience, and hardly knowing how to break
his news more gently, s. needs not to be
prophet to foBesee that the widow of a royalist
and a Catholic to boot, shut up in prison and
| condemned on false charge of murder, is in
danger-nay, said danger f-and is as certain
of her doom as if she Were already in her coffin"
| Nellie uttered wild cry, the first and last
| that escaped her lips that day, and Lord Net
terville repeated family !" Murderw
cay, murder; and i'll another week she dies,'
Hamish answered, now desperate as to the con-
sequences of his revelation
Nellie turned short round toward Roger:
az must got' she said: 81 must go at once"
"Of course you must" he answered in that
helpful tone which had 30 often that morning
already treasured her.
."She has sent me hither to conduct YOU"
Hamish-with some latOnt jealousy of the in
unable any longer to conceal the bodily anguish