THE BANSHEE'S WARNING : A STORY OF THE IRISH REBELLION OF 1641.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XIX, Issue 13, 26 December 1890, Page 23

THE BANSHEE'S WARNING : A STORY OF THE IRISH REBELLION OF 1641.

(By Jambs Murphy, Author of "The Forge of Clohogue," "The Cross of Glencarrig, etc., etc.)

CHAPTER XXVll.— (Continued.)

Pale, distraught, with torn dress in which the burs and brambles caught in her thorny way were stuck, and boots which the mud of the river covered cloggingly— as great a contrast as well could be to the handsome, elegant, graceful girl that glided across the drawing room of her brother's house, Carrie Mordaunt stood before them!

" Maurice I— Maurice O'Connor I " came pantingly from her lips in the moment of entering. "My God ! " cried the astonished prisoner, believing some strange change had come over his eyes, calling up visions and apparitioDS. " What— who is this ? Not— no, it couldn't be I Yes it is. Carrie— Carrie Mordaunt ! In the came of all that's wonderful how came you here ? "

The bonds that tied him had been oelj- half cat through by the weaver ; but he burnt them in twain by the excitement of the moment and slipping quickly over, caught her in his arms. It was but little wonder that he at first doubted her actual presence. The marshes that surrounded the mouth of the river Liffey were notorious to sailors the world over for the eerie and uncouth things seen in them. Airy ships, manned by the ghosts of the dead and drowned, came out of the swamps and tall bullrushes and glided over the waters ; masts and spars, with dead and drowning men clinging to them, appeared off the entrance to the river the latter vigorously signalling for help ; but, whea hands eager to save hfe pulled the lusty oars thereto, behold I nothing save the swollen frame of a dead dog with a long rope attached to it was to be seen ! Marching sailors, bearing the coffia of a deceased messmate, repeatedly emerged from no-one knew where, and walking across the swampy lands, one and all disappeared into the se*. In the fall of the eve, strange barques, curiously rigged and of quaint and outlandish form, were seen sailing inwards, were beard casting anchor and making all apparent preparations for a long stay ; but when daylight came and men looked eagerly for them, behold 1 the strange craft had vanished. In the haze of a summer eve, people had b^en known to aay they had s^en galleys, triremes, such as were used in the days of Alcibiades and Xerxee, engaged in battle outside the harbour, and could hear the rattle and swish of the long tiers of oars as they moved iv the rowlocks, or dipped in the sea. Two thousand years had passed over since vessels of their build had floated on the water. And, m the moaning midnight, the chanting of seamen's voices for a drowned comrade— most lugubrious and distressing of all known chaunts— was frequently heard to come from the neighbourhood, whereof the morning light when it came, revealed no cause.

Buch and such like were the rumours current among sailors on all seas, and such and such like were among tbe strongest beliefs of the good people of the metropolis. Nothing but dire necessity would bring a solitary person along these marshes after dark, nothing but the power of overwhelming excitement could strengthen the failing nerves of a weak girl and make her dare these terrors ; or-the force and fervour of all-sustaining love ! It would have been little wonder if Maurice had failed to recognise her, her appearance was so much altered. Bat the look of love and delight that floated from her eyes when sbe looked on his face and heard bis voice gave evidence to his quick eyes of her bodily presence ; and as these were rapidly replaced by a look of intense fear and affright on her whole face, Maurice, seeing how much protection seemed necessary to her, clasped her in his arms Her form trembled in his embrace, and the dark tressee, moist with dew and marsh -fog and vapours, felt wet and cold against his cheek •' Carrie 1 Carrie I " he cried, " beloved of my soul 1 dearest to me of all on this wide earth-what brought you here ? What came you here for /

For the instant it struck him that possibly her mind had grown overturned with the excitement surrounding her, " Carrie, Carrie, it was more than your life was worth to tempt the rough ways and dangers of a journey from the city here. You are wet, and cold, and shivering, and there is no one here to tend you ! Speak, Carrie darling 1 Speak, and let me hear your voice." For a brief second she lay trembling and panting in his arms " Maurice, fly 1 fly 1 Dja't stay 1 Fly ! Don't stay a second, if you love me — ob, my God 1" She could get no further. Tbe excitement and love which had borne her thus far, all ato.ice filled her, fainting in his arms. " Heaven I Wbat does all this mean ? What can have happened the poor girl ?" asited \Maunca, in great perplexity. " What can be done?"

"Folly her advice," said Manus, sharply, '< She knows what she says, 1 11 go bail. She didn't take this iouruev for nothin ' Flv— takt» take her advice and fly 1" * " And she in this condition ?" said Maurice, abruptly. •' Certainl v Lot. While she is here, I'll remain here. ' y

" A wilful man maat have bis way," said Manus in a state of utter-desperation. " Here, let me put this to her I'ps. There noir, see, ahe'a better. Leave her to me, and go I I'll take car* of her. Go, man I I'll miad her, an* tend her same as if she wor a Mint come down to as from the seventh heaven !"

Maurice, impressed by these vehement appeals though he was, could not quite make up his mind to go. The strange scene around, the faiot light, the quaint figure of the hunch-back, his face alight with energy and impatience, the half-swooning and draggled girl in his arms, her face still beautiful bat stamped with the pale impress of woful terror and affright ; and the low black roof of the deck overhead, the huge beam-supporters, and the dim port-holes through which for a brief second, eyes seemed to peer in out of a pallid face, formed altogether a scene that held him spell-bound. " Maurice O'Connor, will you go 1 Will you fly at once ?" cried tbe weaver, boiling over with fury and impatience at his delay. "Don't you see she's getting better? An' you riskin' what the ventured her life to nave ! Oh my loh my I Mvi Carrie, rouse yourself an' bid him go."

" Oh, Maurice, go— fly I For God's sake— for yourself, for me, for our love — fly I There's death, and worse, coming — go 1 go 1 go ! — Maurice, go I — if you love me go !" Struggling against her weakness, the sense of the imminence of the danger to him, contending with her failing nerves and frame and muscles, she managed to get out these words. There was a desperation and excess of entreaty painfully manifest ia them that could not be resisted, and Maurice, pressing his lips to hen in one long, pitying, passionate kiss, let her stand alone and prepared to go. He buckled the sword which hung beside him to bis aide, placed tbe pistols in his belt, placed the cavalier's hat, with its carving feather, on his head, and be could not go withont once more bestowing a tender loving farewell on the lips of his betrothed, and then he turned with beating heart and quick steps to the door. The faint light of the candle could not illumine the darkness thus far, so that the door stood in more or less indistinct gloom. Wherefore it was that Maurice did not see, indeed in the number of passing individuals around him it was impossible that he could take time or concentrate his attention sufficiently to Bee that a face, pallid with compressed anger and darkened with excessive malignity, in which was set two eyes of cold and unvarying stern watchf alness, was looking on at the proceedings out of the darkness of the doorway. The apparition was so completely hidden and unsuspected that Maurice nearly struck up against it before he saw it, and started back as if he had come into the presence of a ghost.

At the same time a cry — a cry of intense agony and pain — behind him made it palpable that other eyes had seen it too ; and at the moment Raymond Mordaunt stepped out of the gloom and darkness and emerged into the light. As if he had made up his mind what to do, and that his determination was too settled and unmistakable to make itself manifest in outward sign, his face lost that outward look of arger and malignity, but retained its intense pallor, whilst nis eyes had the cold gleam of passionless fixity of purpose wnicb con* veyed more meaning than the most, furious outbursts of passion. " I Bee," he said quietly, bis naked sword in his hand, its blue gleam no colder than the light in his eyes. " Another act of treachery I Another traitorous rele ise I And so you, my sister, were playiug us false all the time. It was you who freed the man before ; it was you that— forgetful of your mother's blood and your fat aer'a name, and our uncle's death and y<mr own position— came through the night and the marshes, where soldiers would even in numbers fear to go to do me and the State a vile and treacherous wrong ?" "Oh, Raymond, Raymond," cried the agonised girl, throwing herself at bis knees, " forgive me — f jregive me — have mercy on me ; bat I could not help it, for indeed I love aim— l do indeed. Oh, Raymond, Raymond, (orgive me and pardon me I"

" Rise up 1" said he with cold impassiveness. "It is not under these circumstances, nor to me, you sbould kneel. Rise up. You bava shamed me, your blood, and your land ; you havo wronged yourself, your country and race by acts of treachery and traitor ism ; you are sister of mine no longer ; you shall go back whence you came where you shall no longer have chance to shame the blood that flows in your veins. Stand up 1"

Tbe weeping and affrighted girl, scarce comprehending what he said, did as he commanded. "And you, too— Manu& the weaver — you, too, here?" " Why, as to that," said Manus coolly and firmly, " I don't like to see any man in prison, and "

" I know what you would say. lam under obligations to you myself. I thank you, but I should not have accepted them at your hands did I know how equally ready you were to serve friend or foe." " I have neither friend nor foe to serve — all are friends of mine.

" Peace, fellow, keep a quiet tongue. As for you," he said address* ing Maurice, who stood listening to this discus jion quietly, " you have proved more than traitor. You came into my tioisa a guesc, by stratagem, on the eve of the •' rising " wherein massacre 'and murder were meant for us, to obtain information that might suit you."

" The charge ia false," said Maurice, indignantly. "It was the merest chance and accident that — — "

Raymond Mordaunt interrupted him with a wave of his haad, and continued : " You came — you, one of the leaders— into our house. You came again — leave ihe room, sister, I have something to say that even you, false as you are, should not hear."

" Raymond, Raymond I " cried the girl, who, whiter than the whitest sheet, stood tremblingly listening to this singular conversation, " don't be angry with me — don't apeak so to me 1 Raymond, doa't! I have only done what my heart impelled me io do."

" Mies Mordauot shall not leave this room," said Maurice, in a burst of anger, forgetting the conditions under which he was there, "at your bidding or that of any other. She is your sister, but she is my betrothed — my wife in all but name. She is nearer and dearer to me than to you, and I shall protest while there is life loft ia me."

" Indeed I — is this true, Carrie ?" he asked, with a thrill of surprise breaking through his stern and icy coldness.

"It is. Ob, Raymond, don't blame me — I couldn't help— l could not, indeed — but I love him, and would willingly give my liEe for his. "

"There is no need to say more," he saii, after a pause , turning from her and continuing to address Maurice. '• You came into our house on a false message, tbe agent of a falser king." " It is untrue ; the lips that say so lie, and prisoner though I am, I shall not, whilst I wear the sword he gave me, hear words of f ilsehood and insult spokeo of the King," sard Maurice, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword.

But the other went on unheeding : —

" You have re turned the hospitality then shown yon by deluding this young lady " — he would not call her'sister— " by poisoning her mind, by causing her to liberate you and others, and by inoculating her with the frenzied belief that she— psha 1" he broke off, in bitter hate and contempt.

" Raymond, it is true," she cried, now more firmly, her late hesitation gone. •< Ido love him, with all my heart and soul I— and I shall be his to the death."

" Come over to my side, foolish woman !" he said, sternly, " mad and ungrateful as you have been, I cannot forget whose blood flows in your veins."

" No. I shall go to him who has given me his love, and to whom I give mine in return," cried his sister, trembling still, butde ermined, and instead of doing as he desired went over and stood by her lover's Eide.

" And I shall cherish her love, and but for that love I should even here make you atone with your life the insults offered me and my Sovereign. Even as it is "

He placed his hand on bis sword and drew the blade, but Carrie Mordaunt, in an agony of trouble, placed her arms around him. " Nay, Carrie, there are some things that even love cannot weigh — — "

But while he spoke, Colonel Mordaunt stamped on «he deck, and at the signal a number of soldiers who were outside rushed in, musket and bayonet in hand.

" Yonder is your prisoner I" he said. " Take him. See that he is bound and ironed until he is safely lodged in Dublin Castle. I shall vouch for it that he does not escape this time. The rack shall extract some of the secrets of bis bidden mission."

He turned on his heels as the soldiers rushed over to seize the prisoner— who, finding defence useless if not absurd, sheathed his sword — but retur&ed again. " You had better come with me," be said, addressing his sister. "A felon's companion is even still not the fate I would wish you." " I shall not leave him ! " cried the agitated girl. " I shall never again part from him till death or the prison door parts us. Maurice — Maurice ' '

Raymond Mordaunt waited to hear no more, but, with a face through whose palor the hot flush of anger and vengeance now appeared, strode outside, up the companion ladder, and giving some directions to the men there, descended the side of the vessel, and was rowed over t:> >he place where his men awaited him. By and bye, Maurice, his bonds once more on him, together with Manus was rowed over ; and, agr.in, by he/self, his lover.

It took some t'me before arrangements for the march homewards was effected, lnrses being reserved for the two prisoners— for Manus might almost be considered as one now. Desiring therefore two of the soldiers to yield their horses to them and to remain on board the vessel until the sleeping men should recover, Colonel Mordaunt in this way solved portion of the difficulty. But he was sadly puzzled to know how his sister should be conveyed. To walk along the miry patha by which she had come was out of the question ; equally so to permit her to ride with the detachment, thus exposing her and himself to curious comments. A thought at last struck him, and taking off bis horseman's cloak he wrapped it around her, and ordering a third horse to be brought him desired her to ride beside him at tbe head of the detachment, trusting that by keeping at a distance and in the shadow of tbe night little observation would be caused. His proud heart was stirred with bitter feelingp, and his proud blood humbled. That one of his blood and race should have given her love to the stranger and the alien ; that she should let her infatuation lead her into acts of treachery— for so he considered them— whereby the prisoners were freed ; that she should have done all these thirgs stealthily and concealed them from bim made the blood boil in his veins. His sister ! Carrie Mordaunt— whom he would have trusted as he would Borlase or Parsons themselves. And. talking of the Lords Justices, bow could he break the news to them —how tell them who it was. wiihin their very gates, that was acting the traitorous part? How tell them whose was the hand that had been d >ing these ondiscoverable things that had been such a mystery and such a puzzle ? The very gall rose up, curdling his blood in the excess of his humiliation.

These thoughts had filled his mind so much that ha was perfectly abstracted mentally from his men sitting waiting in their saddles for him. He was, therefore, unaware that there was considerable commotion and subdued excitement among them, and that curious whispering was going on in their ranks. Strangj noises arising out of the reedy sedges, hidden afar off in the darkness, had fallen on their ears ; strange gleams had flickered up for a second and disappeared. All the stories current about the apparitions of the swamp rose up in the men's minds— the spectre forms that marched and hammered and clanked of nights were present to their sight and hearing ; the misty coffin borne on dead men's shoulders, attended by spectral lights, marching from the mysterious swamp and disappearing in the eea 1 Brave enough against earthly foes, these sudden sounds and lights created a great sensation among the soldiers. It was but the confirma ion of the stories they had often beard. Each man's ears were alert for further sounds ; each man's eyes were directed to the spot where the disappearing lights had gleamed, Whispers wcut round the ranks, and some of the men with

keener eyes than the others, pointing, averred they law ghostly forms through the night and mist. In a word, a panic had set in, and, but for tbe number present, the eerie feeling among them was quite sufficient to mnke them bolt at once. The sergeant of tbe troop thought it but right to communicate what they had seen and heard to the commander. Colonel Mordaunt, however, having thoughts of his own too serious and painful to listen to nonsense of this character, dismissed the man with a harsh and peremptory command to return to his charge.

Meantime, however, the sounds still continued, and though the lights no more glinted through the darkness, noises not unlike their own came vaaruely through the fog — champing of bits apparently and motion of horses' accoutrements. Had the restless spirits of the marshy wastes got up a rival column of their own in mockery of them ? Soldiers instinctively looked around to see if no ghostly horsemen stood silently at their elbows.

It was with no little relief that the prisoncrl and his sister being properly fixed, the soldiers heard the Colone give the order to march, and moved on.

The sounds that smote on their ears now— were they caused by themselves or others ? The jiDgle of accoutrements and champing and neighing of horses— were they echoes of the noises in their own ranks given back by the marsh mists, or were they veritably that of ghostly horsemen mocking them on their departure f There is electricity palpably in bodies of men strangely stirred, surrounding them like some impalpable influence, and Raymond Mordaunt caught tbe infection. He reined up his horse and listened ; then rode quickly forward to give the order.

" Sergeant Walford — you had better ride over and "

But, whatever the command was about to be was never complete 1, for at that mom:nt there wis the tread of horses' feet, a shaking of the miry ground, an unmistakable clatter and clank of arms ; and before the officer or soldiers had time to put their thoughts into shape, strange horsemen were charging on them, overturning men and horses, sabring indiscriminately as they tore tnrough 1 There was no time for defence — the ranks were broken instantaneously ; and, before they could draw Bwords, the mysterious swordsmen had cleft and cut, and maimed and slain, without mercy and without opposition. Some broke and fled— small blame to them in the peril and surprise of the moment— but the greater number of saddles were empty and their riderless and wounded horses gallopped wildly hither an d thither.

{To be Continued.')