that they should direct their steps beyond the reach of intrusion or observation, was endeavouring to draw back the rusty bolt, and obtain egress, when O'Leary, with his hat squeezed between his hands, and his countenance distorted by agitation, caught the general's eye, as he followed him at a short distance.

"What is the matter?" asked the general, turning back on his steps, and meeting the approach of his host.

"The matter, my lord! that's your honor, I mane now gineral, Sir, any how. Nothing is the matter, gineral, only great times, and great luck, Sir! and the young lord, the very moral of the honourable Gerald, his father: and the Crawley pirates foiled, Sir, for oncet: and I'd only crave a word with your honor, gineral, since it's a great gineral you are, Sir, and was a great gineral in the family an hundred years

back and more-that's the ould Brigadier, anno 1698, in armour this day at Court Fitzadelm, only no frame-but stopping a chimbley. And it's what I'd just make bould to ax your honor, and never will trouble you more, Sir, plaze Jasus! if you arn't the young lord that's laning over the battlement, waiting for you, gineral? that is Lord Fitzadelm, Sir?"

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"O'Leary," said General Fitzwalter, in a soothing voice, O'Leary, put on your hat, and go home. My good O'Leary, I shall shortly follow you to the Friary to dress, and you may bespeak me a chaise to bring me here to dinner. And, above all, O'Leary" (and he patted his hand on his shoulder as he spoke, his voice softening into a tone of great affection), "take care of the health and life of a person who is very dear that is very necessary to me, O'Leary."

"And who is that?" said O'Leary, eagerly. "Is it th' aigle, gineral? Sure he's dead, Sir. Poor Cumhal's dead at last, your honor;" and the tears dropped large and fast from his eyes, but they fell not all for Cumhal.

The tone of the general's voice, and the pressure of his hand, had been too much for the state of exaltation in which the events of the morning had left him; and the death of his old companion furnished him with an excuse for weeping, which relieved his heart, weighed down with oppression.

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"Dead!" repeated the general: poor old Cumhal!"-he sighed and added, absently, "it was much such an evening as this, and such a coast too: poor Cumhal-dead!"

"Och! you need not moan him, gineral," said O'Leary, reproachfully; "he's better provided for nor them he's left behind him, Sir. For shure, he

wasn't shook off like a wither'd leaf from a young green tree, and rejected by him, that was reared on his milk, that's my wife's milk, Sir. And thought, troth, we'd break our hearts the day he was weaned; and we sent back to St. Crohan's; and wasn't long till he followed us there, Nolens Volens, and

"You are much altered since we met, since we first met in the mountains, O'Leary," interrupted the general, as he fixed his eyes on a countenance, where the perpetual conflict of revived feelings, vague doubts, and uncertain hopes, had made great ravages: "you are not well, my dear O'Leary."

"That's it, plaze your honor, I am not well, surely, Sir," said O'Leary, eagerly, "and thinks betimes that it's the lycanthropia I have got, which Maister Camden saith was common to the ancient Irish,* and affirmeth that

*The disease of the wolf-a malady attri buted to the ancient Irish.

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melancholie persons of this sort have pale faces, soaked and hollow eyes, with a weak sight, and never shedding one tear to the view of the world-only now, Sir, for Cumhal, the poor bird."

"We will talk this matter over to night, O'Leary," said the general, answering the impatient beckon of Lord Adelm's hand; "or to-morrow, or at no distant period: and you shall be well again, O'Leary, and be gay and contented as I first found you in the midst of your learned disciples; and you shall change your scene too: you shall travel with me to other countries; and then you will return to Ireland, and finish your genealogical history of the Macarthies, and dedicate it to that very ancient old Countess of Clancare,' in whose favour you were so eloquent to day; and by all means get her picture if you can, for your title page: I promise you it will sell your book."

With these words, gaily pronounced,