CHAPTER XXIV.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 325, 15 December 1888, Page 5

CHAPTER XXIV.

Tin. aina Taient of Michael Kilclaie, on 1 ii 1 Icl1 cl 1 n jx himself confrouLed at the door Of Vc\v r Cottage by the young Loid O'Neil, whom he had belie\ed to be in Antrim, became absolutely overpowering. JJe looked at him with stating eyes, actually Q'lfcping for breath. The youncr lord eyed him st>angely and sternly. 'Ah, tlii^. Ls an unexpected pleasure, my loid,' the Dublin lawyei, at length, foiL'inuj a sickly smile. 'Aicyou out, like my-elf, on an ci i and of chai ity, or have you an old acquaintance with this good woman, Uic indigent M-tor, by the way. of my faith - iul housekeeper V' lie held out his hand as ho spoke. Lord O'Neil letused the proffered civility, not chopping liis hand from his breast. ' L am heic on no err md of chaiifcy to a 'pooi woman,' Air Kildare,' ->nid Lord O'Xfil, his fair face kindling, hi.-, \oicr ringing sternly tluough the little dim hull. 'I came here to icsuie the Lady Noia Kildaie horn a lo<(,th-ome and tenible lmjuisonment - ' | The lawyer'b face turned livid. He turned a vStartled, terrified glance at Mr-> Fogaity, for the moment fancying that all his plani had miscarried, and that the Lady Xoia had been rescued from Ins snares by herknor. 'Her ladyship has been lescucd !' eiied Mrs Forgar&y, in teais and tiernblmg. 'Oh, Mr Kildare, T was not to blame ' My Tim stole the key of the Lady Norn* loom and carried ncr off, and, by this and by that, I know that they have (led to England ! Oh, witra ! win a!' Despite the ie\ elation of his cruelty to his ward, contained in this wild plaint, the lawyer experienced a keen sense of telief in the certainty that Tim Fogarty and the Lady Nora had gone away together. By this time, he thought, the young girl nui^t he dead and buried beneath the Channel \vu\es. Nothing more va^> to be d leaded from her. His lelief tuund expression in his> countenance. Loid O'Neil was keenly obseivant. and not a change in Kildare's features escaped his> scrutiny. He noticed tliat look of leliet, and decided in his own mind that Kildare had been no stranger to the plan of Nora's escapo withij Fogarty, and (hat he was at heart rejoiced at it. 'He planned it himself '!' though* his lordship. ' This Tim Fogarby L-> only an instrument of his will. He would not look relieved if he really believed Noia, had tied to England and to Sir liu&sel Ryan. Such a {light, after his treatment of Nora, would ruin him. No, no ! He has hired Fogarty bo take her away to some lonely spot, where he intends to keep her closely imprisoned. Jle is nofc bad enough to kill her, and he dare nob loave her here. He intends to compel her to marry the new Earl of Kildare.' These conclusions, partly correct and partly en oneous, as the reador knows had been scarcely arrived at when Kildare had gained full control of himself, and with apparent indignation exclaimed • ' And this is the way in which you serve me, Mrs Fogarty ? This is your boasted faithfulness to me and mine ?' Then turning- abruptly to Lord O'Neil, the lawyer, with less apparent excitement, said : 'My lord, no doubt all this surprises you. Ido not know in what way you learned that mj' waid was at this house, but I shall not deny the fact that she has been here. And J think I can justify my coui'se toward her in any court of law to-day, I am a bachelor," witfti little experience of women. Nora is proud, deliant, headstrong, She forgets that she is no longer the Lady of Kildare, and defies my authority, declinesmy advice, and threatens to leave my house, alone and penniless, to make her own way in the world. To all my pleadings she tinned a deaf ear, and at last, in pity to her, artl to save her future fufforing, I brought her bo Yew

Cottage, intending to keep her hero until sliB should have grown submissive. There is not a iathor nor a guardian in the land who will not approve my course, should it be made kno«vn. Heaven knows, it has cost me anguish enough to seem stem to poor Nora. You know how I love her, my lord, and you know how she has always J clung to me ! Who would have thought that adversity would have spoiled her sunny temper, upiootod her clinging aflection for her truest friend, and made her suspicious, distrustful and disobedient V Jle looked up at Lord O'Neil with an expicssion of anguish on his smooth and gentle face. He seemed so honest, so etietstricken, that the young loid must inovifcably luuc believed in him, had she of whom the lawyer complained been other than the Lady Noia. L'ut knowing Nora so well, Lou! O'Neil wtb constrained to bolievc this gentle, softvoiced little man a hypocrite and n liar. ' I am olad she has gone to Sir llus-^el,' pursued Michael JCildnve, wiping his damp brow. '1 am glad of it. It relieves me of a fearful respon-ibility. i shall write to Sit laus&cl by the earliest post.' 'Noia has not gone to him,' said Lord O'Neil, abruptly. ' I came hero last night, soon after Noia's flights. I "went aftervvaids to Black Rock and to Kingstown in search of her. She did not go to-day on the package-boat, but 1 have discovered, to my .satisfaction, that she left Black Rock in a eloop with FogarLy. She should ha\cartived at Liverpool, with this wind, at noon to day : but, on telegraphing to Sir Russel E.v.an, 1 loarncl, this evening, that she had not yet boon heard from. She would have telegraphed, of course, on landing, to her j chief guaidiau. The inference is, she has J not lauded in England.' I A*- ho made this announcement, Lord O'Xci! matched Kildare clo&ely. There was* guilt expressed in the hu\>er'« sudden ; stai t, m the quick change ot colour in his smooth, round checks, in the sudden quhcr ! of his lipa and d looping of his eye?. I ! ' You have allowed but a short time for ! the voyage, my loid,' ho faltcicd. ' You think so. Why should 1 allow more, when I believe she is not on her way to England at all ? 1 know you, Michael Kildaie— hypociite and false-doer ! 1 have seen the cell in which poor Lady Nora has been confined, without light or air ! I have oeen the ciust left of her prison fare ! You aie plau-ible and gentle and honest in seeming, but no blacker heart beats to-day on all the earth than yours, Michael Kildaro ! 1 believe you are capable of anything except murder ! I have a cluo to Nora's present hiding-place, and 1 am going to find her I' Without another word he swept, with an impetuous movement, past the amazed and stupefied lawyer, dashed out upon the lawn, found his hoise under the yews, mounted, and hurried into the road. And while Kildare was eaaerly questioning Mrs Fogaity concerning the alleged ' clue,' Lord O'Neil took the road leading to the- Grand Canal, and was presently riding swiftly along the tow-path, his nearest course to Dublin. His mind was quite decided to follow up the hint Mrs Fogarty had dropped concerning the existence of her late husband's relatives on the coast of County l>own. ' Kildare would send her to some humble, poverty-stricken place, to compel her to veld the sooner,' he thought. 'He began by putting her into a dungeon, and he will do no better by her now. As for this Fogarty in his interests, he would naturally allow Fogarty to choose Noia s> place of mipiisonment And as she is taken away in a sloop, they would naturally t'link of a hiding-placo on the coast. Yes, lam convinced I shall find Nora on the coast of County Down, in the hands of these Fogarty. 1 will lose no time in puttingthe question to the te&t.' On arriving at Dublin he rode to an hoi el, stabled his horse, and took a room for the few hours remaining of the night. He was to be called in time for the fhst noithbound train. He snatched a little sleep, being weaned with his hard rides, his anxieties, and his previous night's sleeplessness, but he was awake and astir ot daylight. He wrote a note to Allecn Mahon, at Black Rock, enjoining her to leturn to her father at Point Kildare as ?onn a^, possible. .Enclosing' a bank-note in his letter, he went out to post it, and on his return made arrangements to ha\o the horse he had liddcn returned to it? owner at Kiner&ton. He then ate his breakfast in haste, and half-an-hour later was seated alone in a first-class compartment of a i ail way coach, on his way to Dundalk, via Drogheda. On his arrival at Dundalk the question arose as to how he should nc\t pioceed. There were plenty of sails in the bny. and a steamer oi two, but it was Loid O'Xuil's instinct to move quietlj . Obtaining in the town a iinc. poweiful animal, of mixed biced, he mounted and sot out on liis journey. He proceeded directly to Jonesboio, on the line of the railway, and from that point struck out for the east, crossing the Isewry liver and canal at Wanenspoint on Lough C'arlingford, and going to Ro^trevor, a pleasant little watering-place. From this point he followed the high road to Kilkeol. From the little tewn of Kilkeel the road followed the line of the coast as far as Newcastle, and it wa-i between these two points that Loid. O'Neil expected to find the coa«=l-■-ide cabin of the Pogcuty,-. At KilUeel he stopped an horn to fued and rest his horse, and to make inquiries concerning the Fogaitys, but he gained no information, and returned his journey with renewed energies and desperate resolves, but with sinking hopes-. The idea now occuried to him, for thethst time since lea\ing Dublin, that he might have been imposed upon by Mrs Fogaity, whose son might have taken the Lady Nora to the .south of Ireland, to Scotland, oi to some lonely island off the coast, where help could never come Lo her. Tho thought was like a knife thrust, lie spurred on his hor?e, tiying to forget his now and terrible fears in the swiftness of his progress. Dnnmore Head was passed, and then commoncod an inquiry at every wayside cabin and lonely house the youuir lord encounteied. It was dreary and fatiguing work, seeming all the more trying because it was so barren of result. Just as the night was falling, Lord O'Neil rode up to a humble wooden cabin and made his inquiries in a dispirited voice ; but here, for the first time, encouragement came to him. 'Is it the Fogarty s ye're wan tin ?' an old woman, in a huge frilled cap and a, short gown, asked him, coming forward from her spinning-wheel. 'Sure yo'ro on the rich b track, your honor. The Fogartys live a mile beyant, on Stony Point, but it's not a nice place for your honor to be going to after dark. Them Fogartys have a bad name, and though the young wans are out in their smack, old Rough is a dozen to the fore.' The young lord laughed, in his rolief and joy, and tossed back the tawny locks from his fair brow as he answered, with a glance down at his simple gannonts : ' I am not afraid, mother, though thank you all the same for your friendly warning. And there's a ti ifle to fill your pipe,' ho added, tossing her a half-crown. The old woman muttcied a benediction on him as ho rode swiftly away.

I Tho remaining mile- was quickly traversed. A light, was gleaming from the small window of the long .stone cabin of tho Fogarty.s as the traveller drew near. There was no person on tho rocky point, and no sail could be Feen outside. But foi* the light the premises would have seemed deserted. At a little distance, about a quarter of a mile from the cabin, was a thick growth of blunted trees — a mero patch by the roadbide—and hcie Lord O'Netl dismounted and secured his hoi se among the thick shadow?. Tlcie also he took occasion to examine the pistol with which he had provided himself in T)ublin. He then hurried forward on loot, and approached Hie cabin. Here, moving cautiously and almost silently, ho circled the cabin boveial time, keeping both sight iind hearing on the alert. Tho lonely and isolated position of the dwelling con mined hiss convictions that the Lady Nora had boen brought to thin spot,, and was now detained here as a prisoner. Some instinct assured him that she was near him, and his eyes glowed and his cheeks burned with the longing 1 to fiee her and clasp her in his arms. ' She is here '. s=he is hei c !' he said to himself. ' I know that she i 3 here ! But which is her window ? In what room is she imprisoned '!' Again and again he looked at the tiny square aperture in the wall which served a-^ window to tho 100 m in which the Lady Nora was actually confined, but he had no ideo that this belonged to her room, and he dared not make closer investigation for tear of alarming the household. 'There arc but two in the family,' he thought, « the sons beinjr away. Surely I can deal with the old couple. But how y' An idea came to the young lord .suddenly. If the sons wcie away on a lidding excursion, mijrht they not he expected home at any moment? The thought was suggestive of n plan of action. He crept out on the rough and jagged point, over drifts of slippery tea-weeds and coarse-meshed nets spread out to dry, fulling against a row-boat turned bottom up, and finally gained a spot on the extreme end ot the reef of rocks, where the furious swell threatened to carry him off his feet with its swift lungep. Then again he turned his eyes seaward. All was gloom and intense darkness under the heavy clouds veiling the sky. Not a star was visible. The eye eoul i trace the white caps of the waves and catch the phosphorescent gleams of ligfht on the waters for a little distance, but beyond that all was shadow. Raiding hi° voice, Lord O'Neil shouted in husky tones : ' Ahoy, there ' Cabin, ahoy.' And then, as quick as the words wore uttered, he crep f back over the rocks of the point, crossed the nbts, and crouched near the cabin, behind a pile of sea weed,. As ho hud calcul \ted. his hoarse challenge had been heard by the inmates ot the cabin, and been mistaken for the cull of the fisher sons on their return from their cruise. Lord O'Neil had scarcely ensconced himself behind the sea-weed, when the cabindoor flew open and old Rough Fogarty came rushing out upon the rocks, hatless and bare-footed, and all excitement. I The cabin door was left open behind him, | and the young lord could see the old woman ! aittine: in the glow of the sea-weed fire. | • Ahoy, there !' shouted old Hough, running out to the end of the point, and stiaining his e>es tlnough the dense gloom. ' Ahoy, it is ! Is it theio ye aie, MiUc and Tom r He waited a moment., but of couioo no answer came. ' Sure ve'll £0 on the lock- if this is the wav ye keep on '.' cried old Hough, fairly d'incinrr on the slippei v rocks in his anxiety and excitement. " ' Old woman, bring out the lantern ! The smack is 1 going to pieces, don't ye hear her? Oh, the spalpeens! Mike and Tom, spake, will ye J Ay ye die Idon'bcaie, ay this is the way ye act. ye mnrtherin' craturps ' Oh bad luck. The lanthern, Ann! The lanthem !' The old woman s piano: up and lighted a greit hoin lantern, viih which she lan out to the assistance of her husband. ' Bad luck the day '' cried old Rough, seizing the lantern mdely and waving it above his head. 'The smm k is going down. Don't je hear her grating on the rock 5 ! ? It's enough to make a man curse his giandmother ! Oh, bad luck till it ! Mike ! Tom ! Ay ye don't answer, ye sorry the day ! Ay yo'i'3 dying, say so ! Ay -ve're drowned, say su ! Do ye's hear, Mike and Tom ':' While he and the old woman were w ait - ins: for some 1 espouse to this> adjniation < Lord O'Neil nuieUy rose up from his con ccalment, glided to the cabin, enteied it, and closed the door. Then he looked around him in the light of t he -^ea-weed n'ie, and called, softly : ' Nora ' Nora .''