Year: 1865

laurel walk, and was soon lost in the dark


ness Soon heard the sound of carriage


wheels advancing, and quickly threw Of


the timidity and abstraction | was sure my
r countenance would betray, and met Aun
Osborne as if nothing had occurred
kept the note safely, and did not tell her
about it until we were alone after dinner
| then gave it, mentioning the circumstan
ces under which it had been intrusted tc
me, as well as the accompanying caution
in regard to the writer My aunt seemed
considerably surprised at what | told her
and hastily opened the strange missive
noticed that she looked panied and perplex
ed as she read it, and holding the paper for
several minutes in her hand she continued
gazing in silence into tho fire


4" DO you know the contents of this p
she asked at length, pointing to the note


No." said, "he told me nothing about
it."


She handed it to me without word it
ran as follows


| "MADAM-From circumstances that have lately
come to my knowledge, through whom, or in
what way, l not at liberty to mention, have
reason to believe that considerable danger threat
ems you, and that from quarter that you might
/ perhaps least apprehend you will understand that
4 q PARISH priest Is often pound TO secrecy the
most sacred obligptions and am almost breaking
/ through the limits of official discretion and re-
| serve in conveying this lntimation l therefore
reckon confidently on your closest silence act,
| but don't speak lose no time i'll removing from
your house to some safe custody the vauables that
would tempt assailant, and this may probably
avert the peril above all let me imperativey urge
upon you not to convey the faintest hint to single
! servant in your house that you have been in any
way warned.


Il am your well Uisher


Pray burn this"


"Well," asked Aunt Osborne, what do
you think of that ~


Think of it !" l exclaimed in horror,
why, if | were you I'd go, bag and bag
gage, into lodgings in NJ tomorrow
and I'd put every thing worth two-pence
into the bank, under Mr.. Gregory's care
| shan't have an easy moment here now,
and the long dark nights coming on"


Oh, nonsense !" replied Mrs. Osborne,
4" I'm not a bit afraid Of any one out here.
| shall certainly see to morrow, though,
about lodging the plate and some other
matters in the bank only | mustn't say a
word TO Parks-he would be quite offend
ed"


What on EARTH" said, "can Faith
er Malachi mean by danger from a
quarter that we don't suspect Isn't that
what he says ?" and l glanced again at
his note.


q suppose he means that it is the White
boys will attack US for money, though we
haven't arms. Indeed, heard the other
day, | now remember that they did break
into one or two houses near Cork, for mon
ey alone /; they want it, suppose, to help
out their shocking projects any way, I'll
consult Mr.. Gregory in the morning about
the whole matter, and whether it might not
be well to have a gun or pistol, or some
thing or other for Parks, III case any thing
Sho,ld happen and by-the-way, Maggie, l
promised to take Mrs Gregory for a drive
tomorrow, and said that we'd have an ear
ly dinner with them after, and he told me
that he'd come home with US in the even
ing if we were at all afraid. | hope your
cold will be well enough, and we can then
settle about this business ; possibly 1t
might be better to move into the town for
the winter | must take care, though, and
not betray the trust that poor Father Ma
lachi has SO kindly reposed in us ; declare
il was a very good thing Of him to do, more
than should have expected And so say
ing, she threw his note into the fire.





wish that he had kept his letter to himself,
he has terrified me so with it."


Various coniectures and plans were eX-
pressed and discussed that evening at
one time we thought of going to Father
Malachi the next day and questioning him
more closely, but then abandoned the idea
as it might implicate him, and be bad re-
turn for the favor he had shown. also
succeeded in diverting my aunt from the
intention she had half adopted Of contiden-
TALLY disclosing the purport OF the priests
letter, and how it reached her, TO Mr.. Greg
ory when consulting him as to what pru-
deut steps we ought to take, for | maintain.
ed that would be a breach Of faith, and it
would answer quite as well to imputc our
apprehensions TO the restless state Of things
in the country and to this aunt ultimately
agreed.


The next day my cold was to heavy too
to think Of venturlng out. Aunt Osborne
wanted TO forego her intention OF remain
ing to dinner | insisted, however, on her
abiding by the original arrangement, but she
promised that she would be home as early
as possible She left soon after breakfast,
as she wished to go to the hospital TO take
some things to Mrs. Gwynee, and had 9th
er places to call at before going to the
Gregorys' at the bank The earlier part Of
the morning l employed myself writing,
and then Eettled down at my tavorite seat
in the window that nearly faced the laurel
walk, over the same book ! had been read
ing on the preceding day. Susan some
times came in to look after the fire, or to
talk with me little, as she said she was
afraid | might be lonely and on one of
these occasions, as she stood by my chair,


Oh! Miss Maggie" she exclaimed, if
here isn't Mike the peddlar coming up the
walk No, 'tisn't Nike" she added, as she
looked out more closely, e but it's ped
dIar, any how, and Fin in such a way
for a comb for the back of my head"


Poor Susan had a regular penchant for
peddlars she'd rather buy from these
itinerant hawkers, and pay perhaps great
deal more, than at any shop in town. !
objected strongly to a strange man at such
times being at all encouraged about the
! place, especially in Mrs. Osbornes alb
scence but the servant pleaded so hard,
| and 8 aid that she might be able to make a
bargain with the fellow for an old shawl
she had to dispose Of that | could not find