Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1870-12-30
Tales aud Sketehes.
SHAUN'S SORROW.
A TALE OF ALL HALLOW EVE.
TCoNcLuDED FROM YESTERDAYS PAPER. ]

! lCoNCLUDED FROM YESTERDAYS PAPER.
"Ah,, said Nora, sure his anger had
darkened his heart and his eyes. And
she didn't know why he was that wild
with her? Then, if I'd been her, I'd have
clung tight, tight hold of his arms. and
made him tell me, and love me again
Did he love her again, Shaun"
And told the child that he loved the
whole time, hard and hot and how when
he was wounded and half killed, he found
out all his thoughts of her badness were
false that she was as brave and as pure
hearted as even his mad love would ask
for her to be; how they rode homeward
on the one horse, her cheek lying against
his shoulder, and her hand pressing the
scarf to his wounded side
Come again, and tell me more about
my lady's books, Shaun. Come again,
won't you?"
"And so l said l would indeed, and
soon, but"-and the voice of the strong
man sank to so low a cadence that the
listeners bent forward to catch his words
''but never again did sit by the coach
mans fire. Only once more did | ever
hold wee Norah's hand in mine, and hear
her sweet, pretty words. And that once
oh, Virgin Mother. can ever cease to see
her as she was thenp"
"Shaun,n and it was Madges voice that
spoke, "dont ye go on. 1t is hurting We
cruel, and
| She stopped; her own eyes were full Of
| tears.
"No, Madge, lass. l wanted to tell
this to you. I'd best tell it quick, and be
done with it. It's long years since l have
| spoken of it to mortal man or woman, and
the words stick in my throat.
Il went to the barn and opened the big
doors wide, and the silent moonlight came
in in broad path along the floor / stood
waiting for the stable clock to strike
| twelve. l can hear it often now in my
sleep-the loud, deep sound which made
me start even though it was waiting tor
| it was. l winnowed the corn upon the
floor, and, God forgive me! | spoke the
evil name. When there saw, standing
with the broad moonlight ON her white
| dress, wee Norah! l stood still in a strange
kind of stony fear. Oh, if that had been
the only dread was to feel that night l
stood, and she stood; and then softly and
glidingly she came up along the moonlight
track right before me.
Il suppose thought it was a spirit, for
sprung back, knocking with all my
weight against something behind me.
There was terrible crash, and |
heard wee Norah's sharp scream and /
| myself gave the echo of the cry in loud
shout. They heard it in the house: and
when they found us was holding the
pretty child in my arms calling madly on
her to open her eyes. And there beside
us lay the heavy long ladder which my
| wild spring had brought crashing down
on her innocent head. The yellow hair
| was all stained with blood, and on her
white-But there, can't say more about it!
| She spoke to me once: Shaun, come to-
morrow evening, and tell me more of the
gentle lady and the knight who loved
| her.
II suppose she was raving. Certainly
| she did not groan or sigh or seem to know
she was hurt. She lifted herself from my
arms when William came. Father she
aaid, oh, fatherr and that was ALL
There was an inquest. They did not
blame me. Oh How | wished that they
would did not much care what became
of me. But there was no trial. They
said at the inquest the darling was accus-
toned to walk in her sleep, and must have
unbolted the door, come into the yard,
and strayed by chance into the open barn,
thinking perhaps of her pigeon. But
knew better. Not one inch did she stray.
She was led by the Black King, whose evil
name my guilty lips had spoken. She was
so lily-pure he could not harm her. so he
made me do it me who would have died
for her
Il could not face the father and mother
who had loved her. though they never
said one hard word to me- Could l go
and feed the dogs, and see the horses
stepping along, and watch the dumb brutes
waiting for her and watching for her?
Could meet their eyes-I who had killed
herp And so came away. His lord-ship
was rare and kind, and got me this place
here with Mr.. Heygate. And my lady
if it hadn't been for that angel, | should
nave died l think | must have died,
though hearts don't break as oftentimes
as folks say-my lady, she wrote me two
kwhole letters as kind and good as herself.
She knew l suffered. My God how
suffered ~
His voice died away in kind of wall
| There was a strange element of poetry
and passion in this man, almost peasant
born as he was. But there runs through
the Irish nature a vein of high-toned feel
ing, for which we must search in vain
among the coarser, blunter lower classes
of England. 1t may strike some ears as
unnatural ths.. one like Shaun O'Donnel
could either dream over Enid" or be
capable of the deep and lasting anguish
that had so nearly crushed his life. Years
had passed since that terrible night, and
had borne away with them somewhat OF
the keener edge of his remorse. leaving
a curious tender self-pity in its stead
But now lately this had grown into anguish
unknown save in such natures as his. un
til he could bear it no more, and felt he
must utter it.
And Madgep She sat very still, her face
hidden in the deep shadow. She uttered
no word, nor joined in the exclamations
and expressions of pity and interest whicf
fell from her mother and brothers. Neither
she nor O'Donnel heard their import; bu
the murmur annoyed her and she silent,
rose and slipped away.
He had risen as he finished his recital
and stood gazing into the turf-fire. 1t hat
burned out all its leaping- glories now ant
lay quiet, the glowing embers borderet
nv q r;nn .,f parlv shaS Tho e;p,;lit,J.