me to feel what I owe you, and do not blame me if I cannot express it.”
“If it were not for the value of the life which it is probable I have saved, and if it were not that your happiness was so deeply involved in it,” replied Reilly, “I would say that you overrate what I have done this evening. But I confess I am myself now forced to see the value of my services, and I thank heaven for having made me the humble instrument of saving your father's life, not only for his own sake, Miss Folliard, but for yours. I now feel a double debt of gratitude to heaven for it.”
The Cooleen Bawn did not speak, but the tears ran down her cheeks. “Good-night, sir,” she said. “I am utterly incapable of thanking you as you deserve, and as I ought to thank you. Good-night!”
She extended her small snowy hand to him as she spoke. Reilly took it in his, and by some voluntary impulse he could not avoid giving it a certain degree of pressure. The fact is, it was such a hand—so white—so small—so soft—so warm—so provocative of a squeeze—that he felt his own pressing it, he knew not how nor wherefore, at least he thought so at the time; that is to say, if he were capable of thinking distinctly of any thing. But heaven and earth! Was it true! No delusion? No dream? The pressure returned! the slightest, the most gentle, the most delicate pressure—the barely perceptible pressure! Yes! it was beyond all doubt; for although the act itself was light as delicacy and modesty could make it, yet the spirit—the lightening spirit—which it shot into his bounding and enraptured heart could not be for a moment mistaken.
As she was running up the stairs she returned, however, and again approaching her father, said—whilst Reilly could observe that her cheek was flushed with a feeling that seemed to resemble ecstasy—“Papa,” said she, “what a stupid girl I am! I scarcely know what I am saying or doing.”
“By the great Boyne,” replied her father, “I'll describe him to you every night in the week. I knew the curve—the line of beauty—would get into your head; but what is it, darling?”
“Will you and Mr. Reilly have tea in the drawing-room, or shall I send it down to you?”
“I am too comfortable in my easy chair, dear Helen: no, send it down.”
“After the shock you have received, papa, perhaps you might wish to have it from the hand of your own Cooleen Bawn?”
As the old man turned his eyes upon her they literally danced with delight. “Ah, Willy!” said he, “is it any wonder I should love her?”
“I have often heard,” replied Reilly, “that it is impossible to know her, and not to love her. I now believe it.”
“Thank you, Reilly; thank you, Willy; shake hands. Come, Helen, shake hands with him. That's a compliment. Shake hands with him, darling. There, now, that's all right. Yes, my love, by all means, come down and give us tea here.”
Innocent old man—the die is now irrevocably cast! That mutual pressure, and that mutual glance. Alas! alas! how strange and incomprehensible is human destiny!
After she had gone upstairs the old man said, “You see, Willy, how my heart and soul are in that angelic creature. The great object, the great delight of her life, is to anticipate all my wants, to study whatever is agreeable to me—in fact, to make me happy. And she succeeds. Every thing she does pleases me. By the grave of Schomberg, she's beyond all price. It is true we never had a baronet in the family, and it would gratify me to hear her called Lady Whitecraft; still, I say, I don't care for rank or ambition; nor would I sacrifice my child's happiness to either. And, between you and me, if she declines to have him, she shan't, thats all that's to be said about it. He's quite round in the shoulders; and yet so inconsistent are women that she calls a protuberance that resembles the letter C the line of beauty. Then again he bit me in 'Hop-and-go-constant;' and you know yourself, Willy, that no person likes to be bit, especially by the man he intends for his son-in-law. If he gives me the bite before marriage, what would he not do after it?”
“This, sir, is a subject,” replied Reilly, “on which I must decline to give an opinion; but I think that no father should sacrifice the happiness of his daughter to his own inclinations. However, setting this matter aside, I have something of deep importance to mention to you.”
“To me! Good heavens! What is it?”
“The Red Rapparee, sir, has formed a plan to rob, possibly to murder, you, and what is worse—”
“Worse! Why, what the deuce—worse! Why, what could be worse?”
“The dishonor of your daughter. It is his intention to carry her off to the mountains; but pardon me, I cannot bear to dwell upon the diabolical project.”
The old man fell back, pale, and almost insensible, in his chair.
“Do not be alarmed, sir,” proceeded Keilly, “he will be disappointed. I have taken care of that.”
“But, Mr. Reilly, what—how—for heaven's sake tell me what you know about it. Are you sure of this? How did you come to hear of it? Tell me—tell me every thing about it! We must prepare to receive the villains—we must instantly get assistance. My child—my life—my Helen, to fall into the hands of this monster!”
“Hear me, sir,” said Reilly, “hear me, and you will perceive I have taken measures to frustrate all his designs, and to have him a prisoner before to-morrow's sun arises.”
He then related to him the plan laid by the Red Rapparee, as overheard by Tom Steeple, and as it was communicated to himself by the same individual subsequently, after which he proceeded:
“The fact is, sir, I have sent the poor fool, who is both faithful and trustworthy, to summon here forty or fifty of my laborers and tenants. They must be placed in the out-houses, and whatever arms and ammunition you can spare, in addition to the weapons which they shall bring along with them, must be made available. I sent orders that they should be here about nine o'clock. I, myself, will remain in this house, and you may rest assured that your life, your property, and your child shall be all safe. I know the strength of the ruffian's band; it only consists of about twelve men, or rather twelve devils, but he and they will find themselves mistaken.”
Before Miss Folliard came down to make tea, Reilly had summoned the servants, and given them instructions as to their conduct during the expected attack. Having arranged this, he went to the yard, and found a large body of his tenants armed with such rude weapons as they could procure; for, at this period, it was a felony for a Roman Catholic to have or carry arms at all. The old squire, however, was well provided in that respect, and, accordingly, such as could be spared from the house were distributed among them. Mr. Folliard himself felt his spirit animated by a sense of the danger, and bustled about with uncommon energy and activity, considering what he had suffered in the course of the evening. At all events, they both resolved to conceal the matter from Helen till the last moment, in order to spare her the terror and alarm which she must necessarily feel on hearing of the contemplated violence. At tea, however, she could not avoid observing that something had disturbed her father, who, from his naturally impetuous character, ejaculated, from time to time, “The bloodthirsty scoundrel!—murdering ruffian! We shall hang him, though; we can hang him for the conspiracy. Would the fool's, Tom Steeples', evidence be taken, do you think?”
“I fear not, sir,” replied Reilly. “In the meantime, don't think of it, don't further distress yourself about it.”
“To think of attacking my house, though; and if it were only I myself that—however, we are prepared, that's one comfort; we are prepared, and let them—hem!—Helen, my darling, now that we've had our tea, will you retire to your own room. I wish to talk to Mr. Reilly here, on a particular and important subject, in which you yourself are deeply concerned. Withdraw, my love, but don't go to bed until I see you again.”
Helen went upstairs with a light foot and a bounding heart. A certain hope, like a dream of far-off and unexpected happiness, rushed into and filled her bosom with a crowd of sensations so delicious that, on reaching her own room, she felt completely overpowered by them, and was only