THE MYSTERY OF KILLEEN CASTLE: OR A BRANDED BROW.

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 2644, 28 January 1908, Page 2

THE MYSTERY OF KILLEEN CASTLE: OR A BRANDED BROW.

'ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

BY A. M. AND W I. ROWL

TENTH INSTALMENT. CHAPTER XXlV—Continued

She was growing strangely excited, and knowing that this was her pet grievance and the one thing that generally roused her from her usual state of lethargy—in fact, brought on a return of her bad fits—Hugh determined to get her away home at once. In order to pacify her and induce the stricken creature to relinquish her self-imposed task. Hugh promised faithfully that on his own initiative, and without at all consulting his father in the matter, he would have the meadow dug up, and all round the old tree searched well for the treasure she affirmed was buried there.

Leaving the holes as they were. Hugh took up the small spade which his aunt insisted on taking home with them, determined to sec her safe in his mother's keeping liefore again continuing his proposed visit to the detective.

Having accomplished this, he once more set out on his journey to the town, but this time on horseback. What was his surprise after trotting briskly along for some time to overtake Denny, the Nomad boy. seated on a small mountain pony, also riding for life, a feat usually not indulged i.. by the tribe unless engaged in a race with some other competitor from a neighbouring town. "Good morning, Denny ! Where are you off to in such a hurry ? " inquired Hugh pleasantly, on overtaking him.

The boy turned a white trouble.' face towards his interrogator. "Bedad, Masther Hugh, I am bound for the town. It's terrible throuble is upon us all ; shure. the whole camp is in an uproar over it. The men are all terrMS' excited, and vowing summary vengeance on the ruffian who has taken her from us. The queen herself is downright ill with grief, fur she loved her as if she was her own daughter." De Lacy looked at the youth in astonishment. It was evident that poor Denny was in terrible trouble, and greatly disturbed by something; in fact the boy bore a frightened, worried expression quite foreign to his usually bright and merry nature. '•Whatever are you talking about ? What calamity has befallen the camp? What made Queen Judith ill ?" The boy looked at him in amazement.

"Yerrah, ye don't mane to say as ye haven't heerd the news ? Shure. the whole countryside is ringing wid it. Faith, 'tis the black hour has come upon us indeed when even the colleens are not safe from our enemies. But let the false-hearted villain beware ; he. and such as he. will not go unpunished, for hell itself holds no greater fury, no worse torments. than the Nomads' revenge. It will be deep and terrible," he cried, fiercely. Hugh de Lacy eyed the youth, usually so quiet and cven-teini>ercd. in utter bewilderment.

"Penny, your indignation seems to corn- away your common .sense. You forget 1 know nothing of this. What news do you refer to ? What has happened to your colleens ?" Again the look of surprise, not unmixed with doubt, passed over the other's face.

"It's strange, very strange, that j*c didn't hear it afore now. Shure, the d&rlint's gone from us these few days ; but as she was given to roaming no one minded her absence at first. It's our own colleen—Xorah. finest girl, the best frieml bouchal ever had—that I'm talking about. Mast her Hugh. Ne'r a trace av her can be found ; she has disappeared as though the earth had opened and swallowed her. An' the worst av it is that jjt's all me own fault. I knew it all along, an' might have saved her. Wirra-stri ! Ochone, ochone ! What'll become av us at all at all ?" and the boy, still trembling with excitement, suddenly burst into tears, weeping as though his young heart would break under its weight of woe and trouble.

CHAPTER XXV. WHAT THE VEIL HID

After her strange experience and mysterious vision of the night liefore. it is scarcely to be wondered at that Evelyn arose from bed next morning anything but refreshed. She determined to tell her uncle all—how she had learned the family history, the very strange occurrence she had witnessed the night before—and. if possible, obtain the true particulars of her father's death, likewise the explanation of the previous night's work. On descending to the breakfast room, she found him already seated at the table, the food before him untouched ; and the girl saw he was buried in thought, and not aware of her presence, till she wished him a "Good morning."

The face he then raised to hers surprised and at the same time pained Evelyn, so haggard and worn had it become. The brow was lined with care, the eyes, usually deep-set and thoughtful, had now a frightened, hunted expression, as though he expected every moment some terrible calamity was about to overtake him. In short. Sir Geoffrey Fitzgerald had aged nearly twenty years since the girl had seen him last. Evelyn was greatly shocked, and for that reason refrained just then from mentioning her own adventure. Instead, she chatted awav as welt as she could under the circumstances and, as if nothing had happened to disturb her equanimity and arouse her suspicions, asked her uncle if his journey in town had been pleasant. The Knight of Killeen had done his best to appear as usual to his nipce, but the attempt was a dismal failure ; and it did not tend to put him more at his ease when Evelyn ofTered to accompany him on his morning ride.

"No, no ; I will brook no refusal, uncle," she hastily added, as she saw him shake his head in dissent. "I seldom if ever get a word with you alone. Lady Lisle and Norman arc always about, so I ask. as a favour, to accompany you. I have something important that I wish to consult you about."

There was an earnestness, a tone of decision in her words that told Sir Geoffrey she would not be put oft ;

so, though evidently reluctant and dreading the interview, which he knew must come sooner or later, he told the girl to be ready in half an faour.

As they rode along, however, in the full glory of a beautiful summer morning, the girl's heart seemed to fail her, all her boasted courage to vanish. It was a very difficult, thing, indeed, to go over in her mind all she would say to her uncle, demand an explanation of the Nomad queen's accusations, claim as her right to know her proper history, how her father died, who and what her mother was. All was much easier arranged during the heat of passion than performed when face to face with Sir Geoffrey.

Somehow the majesty of that dark yet still handsome face, the look of sorrow and suffering stamped indelibly upon the brow of that reserved, silent man. overawed the girl. He was not the one to invite confidences could scarcely Ik* said to win the heart of a young. aff'*ctionatc nature, lead her to place faith and trust in his judgment. Instead, he caused her tp draw, as it were, more into herself. freeze the words on her very lips. Evidently Sir' Geoffrey became awarc of this, for presently he said, in a hard, strained voice :

I " I believe you wish to speak with | me on important business, Evelyn ? j The girl started violently. She had i been in a deep reverie when his voice first struck upon her ear. "Yes. uncle." she found courage at length to stammer, "I want you to tell me the history of our family. I have asked you repeatedly about my father and mother, but you have always put me off. It is now high time 1 knew something about them and the house in which we live." Then suddenly growing more excited and warming to her subject : "What is the mystery connected with the Castle? What dark secret does it hide? Uncle, I am sure the house is haunted : I hear such strange sounds, see such gruesome and terrible sights," the girl cried, wildly. Sir Geoffrey reined in his horse, then laying a restraining hand upon Evelyn's bridle, brought her mount also to a standstill.

"What do you mean ?" he gasped. "What have you seen 7" The girl now forgot her former fear as she replied '

"On the night of my arrival a weird, wild-looking woman gave me a strange warning, prophesying a terrible doom for the race of Fitzgerald. and declaring the house was one of blood and sin. The same night as I awaited you in the library, I heard a terribly weird, moaning cry, which seemed to say 'Too late • Too late !' and the domestics have since informed mc it is the wail of the banshee. Do not interrupt me. uncle," she went on, seeing that he was about to sneak. "I must unburden my niimJ fully. On other occasions I have been startled to see a mysterious figure flitting from your study, and as late as last night I witnessed something which. were I not as strong-nerved as I am. would of a surety have driven mo mad with fear."

The girl paused for breath, and as she did so her uncle asked, in an eager voice '

"What—what did you see last night while I was absent ?" His companion drew a sharp breath

"Oh. it was a terrible experience. I wonder I did not die with fright. I had lain awake for hours, and had partly fallen into a doze, when I was roused to consciousness by a peculiar wailing noise not unlike the former cries I had heard of the banshee, only more melancholy and mournful—a constant sobbing and crying, as though many souls were in dire distress. Uncle, I sat up in bed and listened, thinking I was perhaps mistaken or it was only the howling of the wind ; but even as T did so the sound grew rapidly nearer and more distinct, and. rising and going towards the window. I beheld the small mausoleum, or mortuary crypt, all lighted up." As she finished speaking. Evelyn raised her eyes to her uncle's face, and gazed steadily at him : but. she might as well have tried to ivad a closed book as gain information from that sphinx-like face. Seeing that she paused. Sir Geoffrey asked. "What do you think you saw ?" with an expression of indifference. but it was plain to the girl that he awaited her answer with some trepidation.

Evelyn told all—how she had seen and recognized both himself and the Nomad queen in the nocturnal procession. likewise the story she had heard concerning her father's death. Again Sir Geoffrey broke the silence which followed, and this time his voice was hoarse with emotion. "Evelyn," he said, "I do not deny that this house of ours is full of mystery. Strange- and unaccountable things happen there which I myself cannot understand nor find a solution to. Evelyn, I may have sinned in my early days, may have envied my brother, and your father his position and wealth. I doubt not you have heard the whole story. Some kind friend has doubtless informed you of what they term "the Killeen tragedy,' have perhaps told you that our house is haunted, that blood rests upon it. Child. I have sinned in many ways that I cannot explain to you now. The whole story of your father's death shall also be unfolded, but not at present. I am not able to stand tho strain ; the ordeal would prove too much for me. Hut one thing. Evelyn, I would have you understand : when f met your father, and we quarrelled on the cliff. I did not mean to take his life. What happened there as far as I am concerned was a pure accident. ] swear it solemnly liefore Heaven ! Do you believe me, niece? Will you trust me?"

They were walking their horses as they held the foregoing conversation, and Sir GcofTrev leaned forward and gazed eagerly into his companion's face as he finished speaking. For a moment the girl seemed reluctant to answer. Even now she felt he was putting her off—had in no way given her the correct solution to the mystery, nor yet explained to her her father's death ; but as flhe gazed upon that haggard, drawn face, with its terrible look of pain and suffering the feeling that he was. after all. her uncle, one of her own kith and kin, her father's only brother, caused a kind of pity and sympathy to arise for him in her heart. Whatever his crime. l>e that haunting look of terror one of remorse or sorrow, she could only feel compassion for the unhappy man at her side. A great desire to help and comfort him, to lend him—who, so far as she knew, never darkened the door of a church, gave no thought to his Crea-

tor—entered "her heart! and - who knew but if she was gentle, sympathetic, and persevering with him, she might be the means of leading her relative to a brighter and happier future ? Gently she laid her small gloved hand on his arm. "I believe and trust you, uncle. Whatever my own anxiety to learn my poor father's end. I will be patient, wait until you feel at liberty to tell all."

the queen turned upon her haughtily: "Not one word, maiden," she said, in that singularly altered voice, laying her hand on Evelyn's shoulder—"not one word in that man's defence if you would not madden me to frenzy. Be silent, and let him also thank his stars that your presence alone saved him from my wrath." Then, turning towards Sir Geoffrey who still stood silent and cowering, she pointed with outstretched finger imperiously in the direction of the Castle, saying at the same time, while her black eyes seemed literally to flash fire :

It seemed to her that he shuddered and shrank away a little as he felt her touch, but he only smiled feebly in response as he suggested they should now canter on a bit.

"Go ! Leave my sight at once and enjoy to the full, if you can, your illgotten wealth, for I warn you, the time of tribulation and vengeance is drawing near, is closer than you imagine. Beware !" With these last prophetic words still lingering on her lips the Nomad queen turned on her heel, and without one backward glance in the direction of those who had helped her, walked 0(1 at a brisker pace than one could have deemed possible, considering her weak state, while her old, haughty bearing and proud carriage returned as she strode along, her dark garments and veil fluttering in the breeze.

Their hands had hardly tightened on the reins, when a low moan, apparently issuing from behind a hedge close at hand, broke upon their ears. The girl drew in instantly and listened. Again it sounded, this time fainter, but intermingled were the words, "Help ! Help !" in a weak voice.

Springing lightly from the saddle and calling to her uncle to follow, Evelyn hastened in the direction whence came the sound, rather reluctantly imitated by her companion. "Evelyn, this is madness. What do you propose doing ? This may be a decoy to lead us into a trap. Come away at once !" The girl glanced over her shoulder. """It was some one in pain, a human voice, I feel certain," she replied, wondering at the same time what trap her uncle feared or who would lay such. Taking no heed of his warning, she kept along the hedge untiil she presently came to an opening therein. Scrambling through here as best she could, she soon emnrged on the other side, and as she did so she could not repress the cry of horror and surprise which rose to her lips. For there, lying not a yard in front of her, was the figure of a woman, whose face was bathed in blood, while even the cloak she wore was stained with the self-same liquid. Excitedly the girl called to her uncle, then bent anxiously over the prostrate form. As if cognizant of her presence, the woman opened her eyes, and as those large black orbs were raised to hers, with the rapidity of lightning it flashed across her mind. She recognized in that mudbedraggled form and pallid, bleeding face the figure of the beautiful and stately head of the vagrants, Judith, the Nomad queen.

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE HOME OF THE NOMADS

It was a beautiful moonlight night though premature for autumn, that we find Matthew Cleary slowly wending his way along the cliff road. So buried in thought was he that he started violently as, having gained the cross-roads—one of which as we have before mentioned, led down towards the Nomad camp—a noise like thunder, the muffled roll of drums, struck upon his ear. Astonished and amazed, he paused then pressed on again. What could it be ? Even as he advanced, the sounds grew clearer and more distinct, till, in a flash, it dawned upon him that it was the roar and tumult of angry, voices rather than that of the elements. In the distance the reflection of the Nomad's camp fires could be seen, lighting up as they did, the whole sky with a vivid red glow, and the sight of these caused an inspiration to dart across his mind. He had often promised himself the pleasure of a visit there, for he had learned that the queen of the Nomads was the deadly enemy of the Knight of Killeen. Why not now embrace the opportunity, ascertain from her something which might serve to throw light upon this seemingly impenetrable mystery '? From what he had heard of this wild tribe he judged them to be peaceable enough unless roused to fury by some injury or injustice on the" part of an enemy. He had once done one of their chief men a service in getting him out of a poaching affray in which he was mixed up, and the other in return had promised him a hearty welcome whenever he visited the camp.

"Oh, poor dear, you are hurt, bleeding ! Have you met with an accident, or what what has happened ?" cried Evelyn, as taking from her pocket her own handkerchief, she wiped away the blood from the woman's face, at the same time calling to Sir Geoffrey to try and find some water.

The woman roused herself at the words.

"No, no ; it was no accident. It was foully, maliciously done by the wretch who terms himself a gentleman—the one who stole our Norah, my beautiful god-child from me. And because I tracked him down, demanded her restoration, he first lied to me declaring he knew nothing about her, then brutally attacked me—mc, the Nomad queen, with his walking-stick and left me, as he fondly imagined, dead. But woe, woe to the scoundrel who has betrayed and ruined that young girl ! His day will come, and then he will bitterly rue the hour he meddled with me and mine. The bear defends to the bitter end her cubs and lair, zealously guards them by night and day ; but even she is not more careful and jealous of wrongs dealt them than are the Nomads of the colleens who arc their own flesh and blood, who look to them for support and guidance. Ah. it were better the man had never been born that seeks to trifle with the honour of a daughter of our tribe ! " The queen sank back evidently exhausted and faint from the violence of her words and emotion. Evelyn had started as the name of Norah fell upon her ears. Could it be? Ah. no. she would never believe it : and yet—oh. horror !—there remained that terrible lingering doubt. She with her own eyes had seen Norah in company with him. Could it be? No. no ; she could not. would not for a moment credit that he. her hero, Hugh De Lacy, would be guilty of such an act. Sir Geoffrey now returned with some water which he had procured from a stream close at hand, and he and Evelyn both bent over the injured woman. The former started violently as he recognized who the invalid was. but he made no remark, only assisted Evelyn to bathe her face. lips, anil eyes, until she began to show signs of coming round. Scarcely had her pale face assumed a more natural colour, her breathing become more regular, than she turned from Evelyn and gazed in a halfstupitied fashion at the features of the Knight of Killeen. As she did so the black mantilla-like veil which hid her brow, and which had become loose in the efforts to restore her, slipped aside and revealed a terrible secret. Right across the queen's brow almost reaching from temple to temple, was branded a blood-red scar—a ! large livid gash, which frightfully j disfigured what must have been once | a noble-looking and patrician fore- ] head. i

Now as he approached and skirted along the seashore the salt spray played about his face and the roar of the breakers sounded in his ears, Quickly he strode along until, on ascending one of the hills which overlooked the valley in which nestled the little settlement, a strange and awe-inspiring sight met his gaze. All around the clearing or amphi-theatre-shaped rocks were erected huge canvas tents, some but seeming to cover and protect the entrance to large cavities in the rocks, others forming an awning or door to keep out the chill blast from the caves in which these people had taken up their abode.

All this, of course, the detective could not properly discern from the distance at which he stood, but it certainly looked to him a strange unequal conglomeration of tents and of hastily-thrown-togelher canvas coverings and awnings of various shapes. Mug.-, brightly-glowing peat and wood lires burned in the centre of the span's between the tents, and their red glow cast a warm radiance on all around, lighting up the canvas village and the figures of the men and women as though it were day.

Cautiously the detectiye drew nearer. then seeing no path or causeway leading down to the camp, determined to descend on all fours the almost perpendicular sides of the hill. One false step would have hurled him on to the rocks below, which would have meant certain death, but he was prepared for all contingencies. and with dogged perseverance kept 011.

Jn the brief intervals of rest, he took he soon-perceived that something unusual was taking place. The number of dark forms which the (irelight showed up so prominently were not as he had nt first imagined, engaged in recreation or some sport or game. The cries and hum of voices which he had heard on the road now sounded clear and distinct 011 the still night air—so plain that he could distinguish it was a wail of lamentation rather than joy.

Stealthily lie drew nearer, and owing to the height of a boulder of rock, which both concealed his person and at the same time afforded him a comfortable seat, h<* could plainly discern all that was happening below.

Evelyn gazed upon it spellbound, a feeling of sickening horror and aversion gradually stealing over all her senses : hut Sir Geoffrey sprang to his feet with a loud cry and something more akin to terror in his manner. lie stood gazing speechless and awestruck with that fascination which fear imparts to the faculties in his eyes, then with a shudder he buried his face in his hands, as if to blot out the revolting sight from his vision.

It soon struck the interested s|><m - - tator that his attempts at concealment were unnecessary, for so intent were the Nomads on their own affairs and the immediate business on hand that it is doubtful if they were aware of his near proximity.

Now for the first time Matthew Oleary became alive to the fact that the cause of all the commotion 011 the people's part was that of a woman, whom he at once recognized as the queen, was about to address them. For some moments this remarkable, stately creature stood silent in their midst, while cheers loud and strong issued from the throats of the assemblage to show their appreciation of her worth.

His action seemed to arouse the clouded senses of Judith to full power, for, recovering consciousness at that moment, she hastily replaced the veil to its original position, and, disengaging herself from the girl's hands, struggled with difficulty, but without assistance, t<> her feet. Then, to Evelyn's surprise, she faced Sir Geoffrey, a wild, scared, indignant and almost savage look upon her face. as she cried, angrily :

There she stood, a tall commanding regal-like figure, a woman to be loved, yet feared, the red glow of the tires shining full on her pale face, her dark eyes flashing, her whole expression changing as each different turn of emotion entered her heart. One moment the mother's tenderest grief was displayed therein, the next the wildest fury and rage as when her people had finished their applause, she turned upon them. Throwing up her arms wildly towards heaven, she cried, in a low, wailing voice, soft and mellow as that of a tragedy queen or bereaved mother lamenting the loss of her little ones, then loud and shrill as some warlike amazon. A Grace O'Malley of old, the Irish sea-queen, calling her sons to arms, was not

"W'retch ! How dare you touch me —you. the Knight of Killeen. whose very look is contamination, whose breath breathes foulness, deceit, and crime? Why dare profane? me with your blood-stained hands ?"' Evelyn was both astonished and i 'agrined bv the fierceness of the attack, as well as the ingratitude 01 the woman towards one who had assisted her in her need, while the tones were so hollow and unearthly, pregnant with some deeply-hidden passion. that she lacked a little of her usual dignity and grace. Thinking to make peace, the girl was about to explain that she asked Sir Geoffrey's assistance, when again

more'in earnest than she. Clear as a clarion the words fell upon the ears of her faithful followers : "Ochone ! Wirra-sthru ! Woe is us to have lost her ! But vengeance —vengeance is left us. She, the idol of our tribe, the little one given to our care by her broken-hearted, dying father, the man whose life those ruffians took—ay, as surely as if they did open murder—yes, I repeat again they were murderers of the father, and now—now they have done even worse to the child—our poor, simple, trusting Norah. The wretches marked her down as their prey ; her guileless innocent ways and beauty attracted their licentious, debauched natures ; they enticed our colleen from amongst us by glittering show and plausible words, envied us our treasure, the loving merry girl who brightened all our livesshe, our colleen, who was beloved by every man, woman and child among you. They have stolen her from us, betrayed her, and as I know so well, will leave her dishonoured and alone, desert her, a daughter of our tribe, to perish miserably like a dog among strangers. But I swear it shall not be. Vengeance—vengeance on her betrayer is but right and just. Woe to her seducer ! Woe to the man who wronged her ! " Judith here broke down utterly, and covering her face with her hands burst into a violent fit of sobbing and weeping. This the remainder of the crowd took up, while some of the women raised a lamentation or mournful wail not. unlike that wellknown dirge, "The Keen," so common in the. country parts of Ireland, and as they gave forth their wail of sorrow many of them swayed backwards and forwards wringing their hands wildly at "the same time.

The men looked on in sullen silence at this display of grief by their women-kind, but their own eyes, though dry, were hot and burning for the unshed tear scalds more than those which flow. Every man in his rough, honest way loved Norah, or Noreen, as she was playfully termed, as though she were his own child. Was she not one of them, daughter to their friend, and brother in distress, the man who, so to speak, had given up his own life to further their interests ? He had left his treasure in their keeping and how —how had they fulfilled his trust ? Each one present blamed himself for not being more watchful. They should not have allowed her to roam abroad at will ; yet was it not one of their rules, their boasts, that the Nomads were free as the air they breathed, the bird that flew unfettered on the wing—at liberty to ramble over the moors and hills of their native land, spend the hours with the boom and roar of the sea in their ears, , while engaged in reaping the rich harvests, which that mighty element constantly blessed their shores with, and who—who could have suspected danger to their darling lurked therein ?

The men's lowering scowls and malevolent, angry faces, the wild gleam of hut ill-suppressed wrath and vengeance in their eyes, boded but small mercy for their enemy, the man who had deprived them of their priceless rose, destroyed its beauty for ever. The women's lamentation had unmanned these strong men ; they could with difficulty hide the savage relentless hatred which tilled their breasts, and it was only respect for their women and the sex in general, as well as their queens presence that kept it under ; but now it burst forth in all its fury.

In one loud, hoarse yell, like the roll of distant thunder, the sound of the storm as it breaks in all its fury upon the clifTs or the lighthouse, these words swept like a torrent from their parched lips and dry, burning throats, "Vengeance ! " they cried as with one voice. "Vengeance on her seducer ! Her honour must be vindicated. He, the villain who has sullied her fair fame, shall right her in the eyes of the world, and the sight of Heaven ; he will wed her, make her an honest woman or die. Woe to that scoundrel, this miserable spalpeen ! Again that vow of vengeance rose ! to the heavens from the deep voices of the men to the shrill treble of the women and children, and pierced the starry firmament above with its doleful wail. "Yes, woe—thrice woe to the man who betrayed her ! " cried the queen lifting her head and resuming once more her former attitude of dignity and command, and with a great elTort mastering the terrible grief that convulsed her frame. Then, turning to her audience, she continj ued fiercely : | "My people, 1 leave it in your i hands. Is it. safe after this for our people, the daughters of our tribe, to roam their native hills free and unfettered as of yore? Is even this ; to be denied us? These tyrants, : usurpers, robbers—ay, even murderers i have stolen from us all we once pos- J sessed : they have taken our lands, j evicted us from the homes of our ! forefathers—the homes which our an-! cestors made, the soil they literally ! tilled by the sweat of their brow. 1 j repeat they drove us from those | homes, stripped the roofs from oIT j our heads, made us pariahs, out- , casts, homeless wanderers on the face of the earth. All this we bore, ; endured in silence, and handing our- ' selves together, founded our colony I here among the rocks and caves of our native shore, wherein we have found a refuge denied us elsewhere. Here, my people, we have lived in peace, if not. always in plenty. We interfere with none, earn what we eat b.v the labour of our hands, living although. I grant you, a free, roving merry life, no better than the animals of the earth, the; birds of the air, in caves and holes in rocks. Yet even these luxuries are begrudged us now ; our enemies envy us, seek out our greatest treasure, steal our colleens' virtue." A deep groan interspersed with cries of vengeance and muttered imprecations from the men broke the momentary silence. Again the queen went on, while still the echoes of that hoarse cry, like the voice of some mighty giant woke the hills around.

the oath of our tidba we swear it!" cried Judith vdrigefully, suddenly drawing a dagger from beneath the folds of her dress and advancing into the very centre of the circle. The moonlight played full upon her weird stately figure lighting up the pale, determined face, while the veil she wore, suddenly becoming loose, allowed her long, red hair to stream down her back and shoulders, tossed lightly hither and thither by the wind. Even as she did so there resounded the clash of steel. The women and children fell out of line, and the men gathered closer around the figure of their queen. A pause now took place, but it was only the lull 'before the approaching storm. Judith raised her weapon on high, and as if stirred by one common impulse every right hand banished a knife and held it aloft, as though calling on Heaven to witness their vow, while, in a low, mournful wail the£ set up this eulogy to their lost one, and their promise of summary vengeance on her betrayer :

"Sweet Norah, dear victim of sorrow. Shalt thou never again be at rest In the hills and valleys thou lovest, In thy own sweet gentle breast ? Why should that villainous lover Thus rob us of all we hold dear? No, no ! Our tribe strike to right thee. Or avenge thee, as Heaven is near. Why should a wretch so dissemble To rob us of the pure and the blest The vengeance will come that we pray for ; Until then our brothers don't rest."

And now the chant changed from a slow plaintive melody to a quick, inspiriting air, not unlike a battle song or war march :

"He has torn from us our joy, Made of her a useless toy : He has stolen forth our treasure ; We shall take the sternest measure. He shall suffer !

"Be he gentleman or other, He in turn shall have to suffer; Be he near or far away, For his villainy he'll pay. He must suffer !

"Though our colleen still we pine, He shall answer for his crime : We will tear him limb from limb — Thus he'll answer for his sin. He shall suffer ! "

Every eye flashed; every voice there, even to those of the women and children, swelled the mournful cry and lament, likewise the prayer for vengeance. To the honest, warm-hearted, and excitable peasants those words bound them like a solemn vow. All present meant what they said. To wreak vengeance upon their enemy was now their sole desire ; none would have refused to accomplish it. That long cry of vengeance died away at last on the stillness of the night air The men had already sheathed their weapons, all were listening to the last few admonitory words from the queen, when suddenly Matthew who had leaned a little too far forward in the hope of seeing and learning still more, dislodged some of the boulders near him, and with a roll and a rattle these went flying down the hillside, landing with a thud right in the midst of the now broken circle almost at the queen's feet. Judith started round wildly.

"A traitor—an eavesdropper ! " she shrieked. "Quick—quick, secure liiin at all costs ! "

Instantly the camp was in an uproar ; again the knives flashed forth. Men rushed hitherto and thither with sundry oaths and cries of alarm as the yell, "A spy ! There is a traitor in our very midst ! Seize him ! Scour the hills ; don't let the cur escape ! " burst from hundreds of fierce, determined men's lips.

CHAPTER XXVII

"THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE NEVER DID RUN SMOOTH."

After meeting with the Nomad boy, Denny, and transacting his business in Ehnistymon, Hugh was slowly returning to the Court. The events of the past few weeks puzzled him not a little, and he dei termim*d to work even harder over i the slight clue he possessed with reI gard to the Killeen mystery. To i his great chagrin he found the detecj tive was not at home, and moreover j being a race day ho would have exi perienced difficulty in getting a conj veyance, so inwardly blessed his forei thought in having rirlden. : The road was a trifle lonely, for | though dark, many of the young ! members had not yet started for ; home, preferring to linish up the : day with a dance, a visit to the

show, circus or other amusement, while the older and wiser heads who did not. care for these attractions, or a visit to the inn where they might run the risk of being relieved of the contents of their purses—likely the profits of a couple of season's hard labour—had left earlier. Hugh had ridden pretty smartly when suddenly jpn turning a bend in the road, the sound ot singing was borne to him on the night air. Naturally lie «t once came to the conclusion that some farmer or far- ' iners who had been imbibing rather freely and taken a little more of the

"hard stulT" than was good for thorn, were on the road in front of him. The tune was certainly an inspirit-j ing one—so very lively thai Hugh caino to the conclusion that the singer was in extra good humour with himself and the world in general. i What was his astonishment, then, on overtaking the couple, to find it was no other than his servant, Tim Itrogan, engaged in serenading one of the opposite sex. "You are undoubtedly in good j spirits, Tim." said Hugh pleasantly, j as he passed the amorous couple, and intuitively reined in. j "IJegorra, an' I'd need to bo, Mas-j thor Hugh. It's tryin' "to put a little life into meself an* me companion here I am. Shurc, I'm livening up the colleen aft her the terrible a<l- 1

"I say like you, it must be vengeance now. We have endured too much, borne our insults and injuries too long ; it shall be so no longer. By the law of CJod and man. T, your

venture we had lately. llut, be jabers, Masther Hugh, it's introducin' ye to Miss Murphy, me cousin, I should bo ! Kitty, agra, yc have heerd tell av the young squire, my

queen say we shall be avenged." Then stretching forth her hands in wild excitement towards the sky, she cried, vehemently : "Jllood for blood, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. It is but meet that her destroyer shall suffer"

masther afore ? " Miss Mhrphy certainly had, while she blushed deeply and bowed in acknowledgment as Hugh expressed himself delighted at meeting her or any other relation of Tim's, even though it was his thirty-first cousin

"He shall he shall ! We will j—a remark which made Kitty blush track the villain down ! " came the! the hiore ; but without seeming to response in a hundred voices. ! notice this, he displayed remarkable "Yes, he rights her, or dies. By | interest in the adventure the carman

spoke of,, and wondered what was troubling Miss Murphj", at the same time springing from his horse and alkiwing .. . it. to wander at will and crop the grass close by. Needless to say this was indeed a golden opportunity for both Tim and Kitty to unburden themselves of all they had seen and heard in the haunted abbey; and Tim, after relating all and forgetting in his excitement his former plea of relationship, wound up with the remark that though Kitty and himself had been partly engaged for some little time, owing to family trouble she .had become depressed, and the vision she had seen of that spectral marriage had so terrified her that she had got some notion into her head that the super-natural ceremony she beheld was a warning to her to have nothing to do with himsejf, Tim Brogan, or bad luck would surely attend them. ,

The carman having expressed matters to his own satisfaction, now intimated to his friend that he should feel obliged if he (the master) gave Miss Murphy his own opinion on the subject. '

Hugh was greatly interested in all he now heard. The adventure near the abbey, the meeting the morik in the brown habit of whom he had heard rather frequently of late, fitted in to a nicety with what he now ascertained from Tim, that, he was all anxiety about the minutest details ; while at the same time that the mystic ceremony was being described for his benefit arose before his mind the pleading lovely face of the i>easant girl, Norah Clancy, as she prayed him to believe her lover was true—that he, though a gentleman, intended to marry her, to stand by her in her hour of need. Then that; vision faded, and was replaced bv another—that of a gentle boy who was in terrible trouble about the disappearance of his girl friend, and blamed himself for aiding her in meeting the man she loved, lamenting that he could not disclose who that young man was because of his promise to Norah. " The young squire's heart bounded madly. Already he felt convinced there was a connecting link between all this, and his great experience told him that Tim might aid materially in obtaining the right clue to the mystery. ; a He kept his own counsel, however betraying nothing of the eagerness which possessed him. but at the same time he assured Kitty that it wa? indeed foolish to let such a fancy take hold of her, as he was sure the spiritual ceremony or mystic rite. : they witnessed held no significance for them beyond the fact that, being in the abbey at the time, they were likely to be called upon as witnesses if ever the question of legitimate marriage arose. He also advised them to see Father Nolan on the matter, as he was certain the good priest would be of the same opinion as himself. • But one thing he would like to question them further about. Did the faces of the participants in that mysterious ceremonial remind either of them of living people they knew ? Had a bombshell suddenly alighted at their feet the worthy couple couli> not have been more startled. To be Continued. '