The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1869-08-05

UNDER sENTNNeE OF DEATH.

UNDER sEE4siEeE Y y r Of DEATH.
n issj CoNTINuAD. y,tt.,-..g' s,,,,
"Pat ye knew me poor father. I'm
i'm Welsh. the poor fellow that's to be
anged to-day. Won't ye 'thry an save
e, for the love of God |? i've come
Rrough the sewer TIM ali night oreepin
arough it, an swan, the river, an I'm
3ost gone Won't ye thry an save me,
at Moran, and the Lord'll remiinber it
$ you an your, children for iyer.," D., ....-.
'"Nm, Welsh Lord be. GOOD to ma
That to do mid yesa im,dcae for,
4 you're found wud me, an how can I
I've ye ? What auas 4 20 doPi Sure
Isn't in the regard .oe ssyin' that I
seuldn't dca good turn for ye,, Tim, but
be country'll be roused afther ye, an
ShereU hide We, or what'u I do at all?'
3hus groaned the farmer, as he opened
he little gate and led him into the
$tcHen, where Kate was baking O; grid
be cake for breakfast.
Father. honey o lor +! What's
pat u she cried, as the tottering figure
\ the soaked, discolored garments, came
hto the cheerful light OF the turf: fif9.p
"Whisht. acushla | It's Tina Welsh"
q whispered. a-
Kate sprang up from her knees, and
5er facs grew white. -
Kate, honey, what are we to do wud
jim?" said her, father, trembling, as he
ecounted the manner of Tins escape.
Glide him, father 70 shs cried, with
d q Swoman's impulsiye generosity.
fThe- Lord pity you I" she added, burst
hg into tears at sight of the wretched
5bject before her.
''I'u do what I can. Tim. Give him
|it to ate, Katie. I'll spake to some one
can thrust"
'.Pat, me life is in your hands," broke
b the fugitive.
''Neyer fear, avick. I'll do me best
pr ye." He hurried away few hundred
fards to the house of his landlord, q
Protestant minister; che Knocked furi-
|usly at his front door, and was admit
ed by sleepy maid-servant.
"Somethin' want to spake to the
hasther about-pm goin' to the fair this
nornin'-tell him I'm in great hurry,
y ye plase."
After a minutes delay the gentleman
|ppeared.
''Somethin' very particular, SIR" said
he farmer, in low voice. 'tAbout that
|ow you were spakin' to me,s SIR" he
Idded, for the maid-servant's benefit.
"Come into my study here, Moran"
aid his landlord. -
"By your lave, sir, I'll shut the door,"
aid Moran. Then walking over to the
able he put his clasped hands upon it.
"Mr. Raymond. I can thrust you.
I'M in great hobble, sir, I dunno what
o do at all. Mr.. Raymond, you was al
Ways kind friend, and good friend,
md you'll not betray me It's another
mans saycret, an you must give me your
vord, sir, else I'd be afeard TO let mortal
nan hear me-"
Moran, ifsyou think; 7 can promise as
! man and a Christian, I will. You may
rust me, whatever it is," said Mr.. Ray
nond.
Thus assured, the farmer unfolded his
tory, and begged his landlords 8 counsel.
s'I hardly know how to advise you,
Moran" said he, as soon as he could
peak coherently in his astonishment.
The poor fellow will be found out, I'm
'fraid, in spite of all you can do, and
7ou'n get into great trouble. Have his
handouts fled off, at all events" he went
N, in low tone. "Martin Leary will
10 it, and you can trust him, and may
,e the best you can do Ito give the
fugitive some of your clothes, some food,
md this" He took a guinea from O
lrawer. "Bury his prison clothes care
ully in the manure pit, and start him on
he road to Wexford. That is all that
7ou can do safely. but be quick"