The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1869-04-25

Gold steel and stout hearts will supply the
deficiency"
II feel the degradation of my country, but"
But you Will not dare to strike blow III
ner defence; shame upon tho man circum-
| stanced as you are who fears to act Pardon
me-" he quickly added, seizrng the coloneps
when reflect that I have q wife to cheer my
hearth, and children to inherit my name-tha at
have rank, and fortune, and position, and
slaves, in whose behalf risk the loss Iof such
blessings, should shrink from fighting in their
own most holy cause Entering life with all
LIES advantages, have, while still young,
sacrificed high military rank and a glorious
career IN support of my political convictions
while You, and such as you, hesitate to devote
the clouded remnant of an oppressed existence
to the sacred duty of obtaining liberty for
your affairs and freedom for yourselves"
=" 1t IS useless, / see, to argue. would still
pray you, for your family's sake, to reflect upon
your position before it is yet too late. Here
your safety is compromised, but it is still pos
sihle to escape to France, where YOU can enioy
your domestic happiness until better times
arrive, and the influence of your connections
can secure your PARDON
Pardon for what ?" fierteIy interrupted his
companion Pardon for having stood up for
right. against wrong, for liberty against OPP
preston, for my country against the stranger!
Those are not the times, methinks, for truck
ling to tyranny, when the glorious spirit of
freedom is Pervading the minds of men, and
Of Germany, / seek NO compTomise 4 desire iii.
barEed n { hofy Cause. and Whether success or
defeat attend me, in that cause will / live or
perish. Three hundred thousand Irishmen are
come the gallant Hoche, the head of an inva-
ding army; and with such resources it would
be blasphemy against Gods justice to antici-
pate defeat"
my lord"
"Tush, my dear Blake, have abandoned the
| use of all such aristocratic distinctions call
| me Edward, as you used to do of old, in hap
pier times" Here he was interrupted by
Darcy, who said hastily, " The wicket-gate has
opened"
"Adien! Perhaps q last adieu"--as he grasp
ed the coionefs hand. "Should 1 fall-for
shall never be taken-promise to befricnd
my wife and little ones; they would then be,
as II matter of course, cast off by my great and
loyal relatives, and my country may not be in
a position to protect them"
" In that depend upon me, and should failure
befall and misfortune overtake yourself, re-
! member that, no matter what the consequences
may be, my home shall be always open to re-
| ceive and shelter you. Adieu-Inay God pro-
tect your
= The harvest moon was shining brightly as
the sailor servant left the castle and set out to
tI0tn his ship. tfg had p.1rt;Ikeu rather freely
of th4s gnnd-f Sre at Gapt-JlEls, and Froceeded
on his way ut o rapid pace until he entered the
| walk which led through the pine grove to the
wicket-gate The darkness, by which he was
| then surrounded, appeared to affect him, for
he walked more slowly, and as he advanced
looked frequently and anXiously around and
behind him. When he reached the gate and
placed his hand upon the latch his whole
| frame seemed agitated; he paused for mo-
ment, if in doubt, then opening the door, he
rushed into the public road, and remained fixed
| there, as if spell-bound. After n few minutes,
| and while evidently laboring under strong eX-
| citement, he moved quickly towards the ruin.
Turning to enter, he suddenly jostled against
Col Blake, and uttering "A scream of terror,
| fell senseless to the ground.
The colonel at once recognized the sailor,
and easily conjecturing the cause of his alarm,
remained patiently beside him until conscious
ness returned When the mans opening eyes
rested upon him, he exclaimed wildly Spare
me, spare me, for Heavens mercy, and III do
justice to you and yours!"
Cheer up, my stout fellow" said the coll
onel, "you are frightened without cause. Pm
no ghost surely you know me7"
"Thank God, thank God !" cried the sailor,
| as he crouched closer, and locked wildly around
him. -"Thauk God, you are not Squire Ulick."
esquire Ulick !" repeated the colonel, in as
constituent, "What do yOu know about him ~
"What do know ? see, him as plain
| 1y as l saw him the day he left jail to be
hanged. l know what will make the hair
stand on your head, and I'll tell it too. Lieut..
true; tomorrow Pll discover all, and prove it |;
but not here-not now. must be off to the
ship, or ri get logged" And before the col
ouel could interpOse to detain him. he had
passed the foot bridge, and was lost to sight.
Astounded, by SO unexpected a revelation,
Col. Blake remained for some time rooted to
the spot ana then, whlle uehDeratlng ON
what course he should adopt, continued his
walk among the yew trees on the rivers edge.
1t was twelve, when Pennant, who had anx-
iously awaited the appointed time, emerged
from the wicket-gate and proceeded towards
the abbey. On entering the large arched door
way, he found himself upon narrow path,
leading to the tomb of the Blalzes, through the
dank grass and briers, which oveTgrew the in
terror of the ruin. A mullioned window in the
opposite gable, standing on the outside level
with the ground, admitted o ray of light,
which struck upon the floor, about mid-lehgth,
J and served to render the surrounding darkness
still more dismal. 1t was an hour and q scene
well calculated to influence vivid imagina-