The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, 5 February 1920, Page 3

The Storyteller

WILLY REILLY AND HIS BEAR COLEEN BAWN. (A Tale Founded upon Fact) By William Carleton. CHAPTER (Continued.) In the meantime Sir Robert Whitecraft, having had another interview with Hennessy, was prevailed upon to get a military party together; and the cunning reprobate, in order to excite the baronet's vengeance to a still higher pitch, mentioned a circumstance which he had Defcre forgotten—to wit, that Reilly, his arch-enemy, was also in the cave. "But," said Sir Robert, who, as we have already said, was a poltroon and a coward, "what guarantee can you give me that you are not leading me into an ambuscade r You know that I am unpopular, Egjd the Papists would be delighted to have my blood; what guarantee, then, can you give me that you are acting by me in good faith?" "The guarantee of my own life," replied the other. "Let me be placed between two of your men, and if you see anything like an ambuscade, let them shoot me dead on the spot." "Why," replied the baronet, "that is fair; but the truth is, I have been put on my guard against you, by a person who escorted me home last night.- He rendered me some assistance when I fell from my horse, and he slept here."

"What is his name?" asked Hennessy. "He told me," replied the baronet, "that his name was Drum."

"Could you give mo a description, Sir Robert, of his person?" Sir Robert did so.

"I declare to God, Sir Robert, you have had a narrow escape from that man. He is one of the most bigoted priests in the kingdom. He used to disguise himself as a drummer—for his father was in the army, and he himself was a drummer in his boyhood; and his object in preventing you from bringing a military party to the cavern was merely that he. might have an opportunity of giving them notice of your intentions. I now say that if you lose an hour's time they will be gone." Sir Robert did not lose an hour's time. The local

barracks wire within a few hundred yards of his house. A party of military were immediately called out, and, in a short time, they arrived, under the guidance of Hennessy, at the very mouth of the cavern which he disclosed to them. It is unnecessary to detail the particulars of the search. The soldiers entered it one by one, but found that the birds had .flown. The very fires were burning, but not a living soul in the cave; it was completely deserted, and nothing remained but some miserable relics of cold provisions, with which, by the aid of fire splices that served as torches, they regaled themselves as far as they went. Sir Robert Whitecraft now felt full confidence in Hen-

nessy, but would have given a trifle to renew his acquaintance with Mr. Rowland Drum, by whose ingenuity he was so completely outwitted. As it was, they scoured the country in search of the inmates of the cave, but above all things in search of Reilly, for whose capture Whitecraft would have forgiven every man in the cavern. The search, however, was unsuccessful; not a man of them was caught that day, and gallant Sir Robert and his myrmidons were obliged to return, wearied and disappointed men. CHAPTER XIII.—REILLY IS TAKEN, BUT CONNIVED AT BY THE SHERIFF; THE MOUNTAIN MASS. Reilly and his bishop traversed a wild and remote part of the country, in which there was nothing to be seen but long, barren wastes, over which were studded, here and. there, a few solitary huts; upon its extremity, however, there were some houses of a more comfortable description, the habitations of middling farmers, who possessed small farms at a moderate rent. As they went along, the prelate addressed Reilly in the following terms: "Mr. Reilly," said he, "I would advise you to get out of this unhappy country, as soon as you can." "My lord," replied Reilly, who was all candor and truth, and never could conceal his sentiments, at whatever risk, "I cannot -think of leaving the country, let the consequences be what they may. I will not trouble your lordship with my motives, because they are at variance with your character and religious feelings; but they are not at

variance with religion or morality. It -is,, enough, to say, that I wish to prevent a beautiful and innocent girl from, being sacrificed. My lord, you know too well tljat persecution is abroad; and when I tell, you that through the influence which this admirable creature has over her fatherwho, by the way, has himself the character of a persecutor—many Catholics have been protected by him, I am sure you will not,blame me for the interest which I feel in her fate. In addition to this, my lord, she has been a ministering angel to the Catholic poor in general, and has contributed vast sums, privately, to the relief of such of our priesthood as have been brought to distress by the persecution of the times. Nay, she has so far influenced her father,' that proscribed priests have found refuge and protection in his house." The bishop, on hearing this, stood, and taking off his hat, raised his right hand, and said: "May the blessing of the Almighty -God rest upon her, and' guard her from the snares of those who would make her unhappy! But, Reilly, as you say you are determined, if possible, to rescue her from ruin, you know that if you go at large in your usual dress you will unquestionably be taken. I advise you, then, to _ disguise yourself in such a way as that you will not, if possible, bo known." "Such, my lord, is my intention —but who is this? What—eh— 'tis Fergus O'Reilly, a distant and humble relation of mine, who is also in disguise. Well, Fergus, whore have you been for some time past?" "It would be difficult to tell you that, God knows--1 have been everywhere—but," ho" added in a whisper! may I speak freely?" ' "As free as the wind (hat blows, Fergus." "Well, then, I tell you that Sir Robert Wbitocraft has engaged me to be on the look-out for von, and said that I would be handsomely rewarded if I 'could succeed in enabling the scoundrel to apprehend you." "But how did that come about, Fergus?" "Faith, he met me one day— see, I have got a bag at my back—and, taking me for a. beggarman, stopped me on the road. 'I say, you poor man,' says he 'what's your name?' 'Paddy McFud,' says I—l belong to the Mcluids of Ballymacnockem.' 'You're a beggar,' says ho and travel from place to place about the country.' 'lt's true enough your honor,' I replied, "I travel' about a good deal, of course, and it is only that way I get mv winn S n lI V. ( 'S° * on know the notorious villain called Willy Reilly r Not by sight, your honor, but I have often heard of him. Wasn't he in love with the beautiful Colcen Bawn Squire Folliard's daughter?' 'That's not the quest,on between us,' h Saidbut if you enable me to catch Reilly I will give you twenty pounds.' 'Well, your honor,' =? hid lave the thing to myself—if he's to bo had it'll So hard but 111 find him.' -Well, then,' says he, ' f vo — V m . give y,,u twen * P°"" d " I'm not ,ure he's sir, says I, 'I expect to hear from youIra not sure he's in the country-indoed, they sav he s partel 1 " * IS> * tWnk r " find him for W ■ and so we "Fergus," -said Reilly, "I fed that a disguise is -eesdo w i e 1S i mney to eiiable yo " to Purchase one. I do not know where you may be able to find me- but 4 and buy me a suit of frieze, rather worn, a i,"v'caubefn hat, coarse Connemara stockings, and a pair of clouted my g S °Xun rS T e , linen to °' beca " So the fineness « Stray me lZ '"J hap 2" fco be apprehended, might «ml them there " G **** Wlth W,d ™ a » d * can a:a 5 m aS S °, arra nged. Fergus went on his wav as were W } 8 ?' to » Continental college. They far as it bishop Wlth the *«««* affection, an . tar as the bishop . was concerned with every expression the tumufrS eratit^ e V The situation was demote an v»?«lt T ? Pursuit did not reach them. Reilly pr iSupport underT 11 i**" farmor —sensation for' thei • support, under a solemn injunction that he should not communicate that circumstance to the. bishop'; and' neither still Reillv T ! a l ! f' then ' comparatively safe; but still Reilly dreaded the act vigilance of his deadly enemy, Sir Robert Whitecraft Ho f„i+ +i „ f i- • was absolutely necessary, and"thai \st that a, disguise enemv SaC ln fi ir tllG diaboli cal vengeance of hs powerful enemy. In the course of about ten days after he Wl %£££? W solved to visit Widow Buckley, in order to make the neces"foofisMv lgG ln his appar(>L He accordingly set out-very e hlV ' T he e 33K admit "~in open dayto go to the widows imuse. liie distance was some miles. N appearance of angfe of the TS^ Waß r Until he came to the sharp angle i? the road, where he was met by four powerful constables, who on looking at him immediate!? surrounded

him and made him. prisoner. Resistance was .impossible; they were well armed, and he was without any weapon with which he could Vdefend;. himself. , . "We have a warrant for, your apprehension, sir," said one of them. . . • . ~-*-'/_ "Upon what grounds?" replied "Reilly. "I am conscious of no offence, against the ; laws of the land. Do you know who I am ? and is my i name in your warrant?" "No, but your appearance answers completely to the description given in the Hue and Cry. Your dress is the same as that of the robber. And you must come with us to the sheriff, whom you have robbed. His house is only a quarter of a mile from tins." They accordingly proceeded to the sheriff's house, whom they found at home. On being informed that they had captured the man who had robbed him, he came downstairs with great alacrity, and in a spirit replete with vengeance against the robber. The sheriff, however, was really a good-natured and conscientious man, and would not lend himself to a dishonorable act, nor had he ever been known to do so. When he appeared, Reilly addressed him. "T am here, sir," said.he, "under a charge of having robbed you. The charge against mo is ridiculous. I am a gentleman, and never was under the necessity of having recourse to such unlawful means of raising money." "Well," replied the sheriff, "your dress is precisely the same as the fellow wore when he robbed me. But I feel confident that you are not the man. Your hair is black, his was red, and ho had large red whiskers. In the excitement and agitation of the moment, I forgot to mark the villain's features distinctly; but I have since thought tho matter over, and I say that I would now know him if I saw him again. This, however," he added, turning to the constables, "is not the person who robbed and beat me down from my horse."

"Hut ho may be Willy Reilly, sir, for all that; and you know the reward that is offered for his apprehension." "I know Willy Reilly," replied tho sheriff, "and I can assure you that this gentleman is not Willy Reilly. Go, now, continue your pursuit. The robber lurks somewhere in the neighborhood. You know the reward; catch him, and you shall have it." The constables departed, and after they had gone the sheriff said :

"Mr. Reilly, I know you well; but T would scorn to avail myself of the circumstance which has thus occurred. I am aware of the motive which urges Sir Robert Whitecraft against you — so is tho whole country. That penurious and unprincipled villain is thirsting for your blood. Mr. Hastings, however, has a rod in pickle for him, and he will be made to feel it in the course of time. The present administration is certainly an anti-Catholic one; but I understand it is tottering, and that a more liberal one will come in. This Whitecraft has succeeded in getting some young profligate Catholics to become Protestants, who have, consequently, ousted their fathers out of their estates and property; younger sons, who, by this act of treachery, will get the estates into their own possession. The thing is monstrous and unnatural. But let that pass; Whitecraft is on your trail in all directions; beware of him, I say; and I think, with great respect to you, Mr. Reilly, it is extremely foolish to go abroad in your usual apparel, and without disguise." "Sir," replied Reilly, "I cannot express as I would wish my deep gratitude to you for your kindness and forbearance. That Sir Robert Whitecraft is thirsting for my blood I know. The cause of that vengeance is now notorious."

"You know Mr. Hastings, Mr. Reilly?" "Intimately, sir." "He took your property in his own name?" "He did, sir; he purchased it in his own name. Tho property was hereditary property, and when my title 'to if, in point of law, as a Catholic, was questioned, and when one of my family, as a Protestant, put in his claim for it, Mr. Hastings came in as the purchaser, and ousted him. The money was supplied by me. The moment, however, that I found Whitecraft was after me, I immediately surrendered the whole of it back to him; so that Sir Robert, in burning what he considered my property, in fact burned Mr. Hastings's." "And I .have reason to know, Mr. Reilly, that it will be the blackest act of his guilty life. This, however, I mention to you in the strictest confidence. Keep the secret, for if it transpires the scoundrel might escape from the consequences of his diabolical cruelty and oppression. In the meantime, do you take care of yourself; keep out of his way, and, as I said, above all things, procure a disguise. Let the consequences be what they may, I don't think the beautiful Coleen Bawn will ever marry him." "But," replied Reilly, "is there no risk of compulsion by her father?" ..:,

"Why, I must confess there is," replied the sheriff; "he is obstinate and headstrong, : especially if • opposed, and she will find it necessary to oppose him—and she will oppose him. I myself have had a conversation with her on/vtheg subject, and she is as firm as fate against such a-union; and I will tell you more, Reillyit was she who principally engaged me to protect you as far as I could, and so I shall, you may rest assured of it. I had only to name you a few minutes ago, and your fate was sealed. But, even if she had never spoken to me on the subject, I could not lend myself to the cruel plots of that villain. God knows, in consequence of my official situation, I am put upon tasks that are very painful to me; levying fines from men who are harmless and inoffensive, who are peaceable members of society, who teach the people to be moral, well-conducted, and obedient to the laws, and who do not themselves violate them. Now," he added, "be advised by me, and disguise yourself." "Sir," said Reilly, "your sentiments do you honor; I am at this moment on my way to put on a disguise which has been procured for me. I agree with you and other friends, that it would be impossible for me to remain in the country in my own natural aspect and dress. Allow me, before I go, to express my sense of your kindness, and believe me, I shall never forget it." "The disguise above all things," said the sheriff, smiling and holding out his hand. Reilly seized it, with a warm pressure; they bade each other farewell, and so they parted. Reilly then wound his way to the cottage of Mrs. Buckley, but not by the public road. Ho took across the fields, and in due time reached her humble habitation. Here he found the disguise, which his friend Fergus had provided—a half-worn frieze coat, a half-worn caubeen, and a half-worn pair of corduroy breeches, clouted brogues, and Connemara stockings, also the worse for the wear, with two or three coarse shirts, in perfect keeping with the other portions of the disguise. "Well, Mrs. Buckley," said he, "how have you been since I saw you last?" "0 then, Mr. Reilly," said she, "it's a miraclo from God that you did not think of stopping here; I had several visits from the sogers, who came out to look for you." "Well, I suppose so, Mrs. Buckley; but it was one comfort that they did not find me." "God be praised for that!" replied the poor woman, with tears in her eyes; "it would 'a' broken my heart, if you had been catched in my little place!" "But, Mrs. Buckley," said Reilly, "were there any plain clothes left for me here?" "0 indeed there was, sir," she replied, "and I have them safe for you; but, in the meantime, I'll go outside, and have an eye about the country, for somehow they have taken it into their heads that this would be a very likely place to find you." While she was out, Reilly changed his dress, and in a few minutes underwent such a metamorphosis, that poor Mrs. Buckley, on re-entering the house, felt quite alarmed. "Heavenly Father, my good man, where did you come from? I thought I left Mr. " Here she stopped, afraid to mention Reilly's name." "Don't be alarmed, Mrs. Buckley," said Reilly, :c 1 am only changed in outward appearance; I am your true friend still; and now accept this for your kindness," placing money in her hand. "I can't, Mr. Reilly; you are under the persecutions, and will want the money you have, to support yourself. Didn't the thieves of the devil burn you out and rob you, and how can you get through this wicked world without money? Keep it yourself, for I don't want it." "Come, come, Mrs. Buckley, I have money enough; you must take this; I only ask you to conceal theso clothes in some placo where the hell-hounds of the law can't find them. And now, good-bye, Mrs. Buckley; I shall take care that, whatever may happen me, you shall not be disturbed out of your littlo cabin and your garden." The tears ran down the poor old woman's cheeks, and Reilly left her sobbing and crying behind him.

(To be continued.)