and almost mechanically feeling for that black emblem of death which, it is said, strikes more terror into the hearts of culprits than all the subsequent arrangements of offended justice, when at this most critical moment a confusion in court announced Connor's sudden arrival, and the sheriff having read Mr. Corbett's letter, rose from his seat, and laid it open before the judge.

His lordship was evidently much surprised, if not disconcerted, at an interruption at such a period; and, looking rather sternly at the sheriff, demanded to know whether the letter now placed before him had reference to the trial then on the point of conclusion?

"It has, my lord," replied the sheriff. "It was written three hours ago by the high-sheriff of the county of Clare, whom your lordship knows; a material witness has arrived this instant in court, who was on the spot the very evening of the murder, and who is most anxious to give his testimony in favour of the accused."

The judge immediately, turning to the jury, addressed them as follows:

"Gentlemen of the jury,-A very extraordinary circumstance has occurred. It appears that a witness has just arrived in court, who is prepared to give some strong additional evidence in favour of the accused, the two unfortunate prisoners at the bar. I should consider myself unworthy the office I fill, were I to deny them the benefit of such assistance; and you, gentlemen, would, I am equally certain, regret a premature verdict as long as you lived. I desire, therefore, that you will again resume your seats, and, if necessary, hold yourselves prepared to reconsider your verdict."

Upon this the prisoners' counsel called Connor O'Meara to come up and be sworn. Connor sprang nimbly upon the table. His whole appearance prepossessed the court in his favour, and the state of his clothes convinced all present how much he had exerted himself to arrive in time for the trial. It was also remarked that Connor's unexpected presence soon caused much apparent uneasiness to the prosecutrix, who was seated in court, next to a tall powerful young man, with whom she had had frequent consultations during the proceedings.

eye rested In turning an eager glance to look round him, Connor's upon this couple. He instantly recognised the widow, while she, evidently remembering him, turned her head another way. He was now sworn, and called upon for his evidence; when, to the astonishment of the court, he said in a firm voice,

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My Lord,-Before I begin to declare what I know in this affair, I pray your lordship will direct the doors to be strictly guarded, as if I do not very much inistake, the two real murderers are now not far from me at large, and may attempt to make their escape."

Upon this the prosecutrix put a handkerchief up to her face, and the man near her was observed to button up his great coat, as if conscious that something was about to be discovered, which might render it very expedient for him to withdraw himself if possible. But Connor's precaution, and the orders of the judge, defeated even this desperate resource.

Connor then began, and went through his narrative in the same clear straightforward manner (so far at least as related to the occurrences of the night in question) as he had previously done to Mr. Corbett. There was no interruption by the counsel for the prose ·

cution, which could or did in the least disturb him. On he went, bearing along with him in the minds of all present a full belief in his honesty and truth. He then concluded with these words,

"I can and do positively swear that that woman," pointing to the prosecutrix, was the woman that came into the yard, and held the conversation with the man; because I noticed (dark as it was) that she had the same gown, with large spots upon it, which I had remarked upon her in the house, and also, that the whispers exactly resembled those that passed between her and the servant in the kitchen. And, as for the man now sitting next her, I judge him by his size to be the same as the person who got off from his horse when I was hid in the hay. He called her Mary, and she called him Denis; and, by the same token," added Connor, "I have here in my pocket a round piece of cloth, the very colour of his great coat; this piece of cloth I cut out from underneath the collar (as I believe) of that very coat, which (if I am right) was the coat he took off and threw over the saddle of his horse."

This extraordinary disclosure perfectly electrified the whole court. The judge seemed as if he drew his breath with difficulty, but he gave instant orders that the coat should be taken from the man. It was so; the inside of the collar was eagerly examined, and a hole discovered, into which Connor's piece of cloth exactly fitted.

"I have also another proof," added Connor; "provided that man's horse is in Limerick, and the bridle can be got and brought here, you will see in it three small holes made by my knife."

In a few minutes this was done; and, by the time Connor had ended the entire of his evidence the bridle was produced, and the three small holes he had pierced with his knife were distinctly visible.

It is impossible to describe the appearance of the poor prisoners at this moment. With clasped hands, and with their eyes looking up to heaven, they seemed to be pouring forth their gratitude to God for their great escape, while honest Connor, who had enlisted all hearts in his favour, began to be almost the idol of the court. In the mean time the infamous woman had fainted away, and her miserable paramour (a man of dissolute habits in the neighbourhood, and known to be in great difficulties) appeared to be gradually shrinking to nothing.

When this powerfully direct and conclusive evidence was finished, the judge charged the jury a second time; upon which, without retiring from their box, they forthwith acquitted the prisoners at the bar, and expressed their extreme satisfaction at their deliverance; whereupon the excellent judge, after complimenting Connor upon his evidence, told the prisoners that they were not only free, but would leave the bar without a single stain upon their reputations.

A warrant was then made out against the widow and her base companion in guilt, and they were committed to gaol, indicted, and brought to trial the following morning, and found guilty by a fresh jury, and condemned on Connor's evidence.

Connor spent the evening of his arrival with his two fellow-travellers, who during a course of many subsequent years, embraced numerous opportunities of rendering him and his family good services; and immediately after the trial on the following day, he remounted Mr. Corbett's horse, bearing with him most complimen

tary letters from the judge, the high-sheriff, and the foreman of the jury. I must also add that that gentleman was so highly pleased at the providential issue of this event, and with Connor's good conduct, that he put him in possession of a snug farm, in which he prospered exceedingly, and which, indeed, is still occupied by his worthy descendants.

To conclude this eventful story: many months had not elapsed before Connor received an unexpected visit at his new house from a gentleman who announced himself as Captain Kennedy, the only son of the late unfortunate man for whose murder his wretched widow and her iniserable accomplice had so justly suffered. Poor Mr. Kennedy's latter days were probably embittered by the conviction of his son's death, his letters having been intercepted by the wicked woman who in his weakness the old man had espoused.

Captain Kennedy, after passing many years in India, where he was highly esteemed and distinguished, returned with the filial determination of cheering the declining years of his father. What his sensations must have been on hearing the dreadful narrative just recited every feeling mind can readily imagine.

To Connor, however, he felt that his chief debt of gratitude was due; and, as the first proof of it, he brought with him a noble silver tankard, with a suitable inscription, still safely preserved, and upon which the family set a high value.

Nor did Captain Kennedy's friendship slumber here; finding that Connor's second son, who bore the same name, bid fair to be a very promising candidate for military fame, he, the following year, procured him a cadetship in India, where he realised every expectation which could have been formed of him by his family and friends.

As for Jemmy, his heart and soul were in the farm, which was a model for the surrounding district, and plentifully cropped and stocked, with the finest sheep and cattle that could be procured. He was soon well known at most of the great fairs and markets, for his journeys were successful, his judgment being sound, and people liking to deal with him. But there was no one ever happier to see this young man under his roof than our honest and upright friend, James Fitzpatrick, whose attachment to Jemmy's father never

ceased.

And it also gives me the greatest pleasure to add that Miss Eliza Fitzpatrick, who had grown up to be not only a good, but beautiful girl, was not slow in distinguishing merits so generally appreciated; nor could Jemmy's heart find its due proportion of rest and ease till the families and their fortunes were happily and more closely united.

And now, good reader, may I ask you what you think of an Irish spalpeen?

414

COLIN CLIN K.

BY CHARLES HOOTON.

CHAPTER XVI.

Doctor Rowel argues very learnedly, in order to prove that not only his wife and himself, but the reader also, and all the world besides, may, for aught they know to the contrary, be stark mad.

As Dr. Rowel stepped briskly from the scene of his disaster on the way to his dining-room, he slackened his neckcloth considerably, and with his most critical finger felt very carefully on each side of his gullet, in order to ascertain whether those parts had sustained any material injury; and though he soon convinced himself that no organic disarrangement had resulted, he yet reflected, in the true spirit of an observant practitioner, that a fierce gripe by the throat is but an indifferent stomachic. Whatever other injury was or was not done, his appetite, at least, felt considerably reduced. Disasters, like this, however, being common to every individual who has the care of insane persons, he determined to pass it by unnoticed, and to shake the very recollection of it from off his own mind as soon as possible.

Shortly afterwards the doctor sat down to a well-furnished table, in the place usually appropriated to that second-rate character, the vice, and directly opposite his wife, who, in the absence of other company than themselves, invariably took the chair. As he helped himself to the breast of a young turkey, which a week previously had stalked and gobbled with pride about his own yard, he remarked, for his mind reverted to the trick he had put upon Fanny with great complacency, - that never, during the whole course of his experience, had he so cleverly handled a difficult affair as he had that day. The lady to whom he addressed himself might have considered, in the way of the profession, that he alluded to some case of amputation at the hip-joint, or other similar operation equally delicate, as she replied by begging him not to inform her of it that night, as she was already almost overcome with the nervous excitement consequent on the events of the afternoon.

"Indeed!" the doctor exclaimed, raising his eyes. "What has occurred? No patient dead, I hope?"

"Nothing of the kind," returned the lady; "only that James Woodruff has been talking again in such an extraordinary manner, that I feel quite faint even now with it. Do reach me that bottle, dear. Really, Rowel, I tell you again, that if he cannot be set at liberty very soon, I shall be compelled to keep out of the way altogether. I will confine myself to this end of the house,

and never go within reach of him any more. creature he is!"

What a horrible

"He has not injured you, has he?" the doctor again inquired, as he involuntarily run his fore-finger round the inner front of his neckerchief.

"Of course not how could he? But then that long hair gives him such a frightful look, and at the same time, whenever he can catch a glimpse of me, he always begs and prays me to prevail on you to set him free. I am sure I wonder you keep him, even for my sake; and, besides that, the man seems sensible enough, and always has been, if I am to judge by his conversation."

her.

"Ah!-what-again?" exclaimed her husband, interrupting "How many more times shall I have to repeat to you, that a madman, when under restraint, cannot, in some particular cases, be in the most remote degree depended upon, though his observations be apparently as intelligent and sane as yours or mine?"

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"I remember you have said so," remarked Mrs. Rowel; "but it seems very singular."

"It may appear very singular in your opinion, my dear, because you are not expected to possess the same erudition and extensive knowledge that a professional man does in these things; though, with deference, my dear, common experience and observation might by this time have convinced you that my theory is perfectly correct. With these unhappy people you should believe neither your eyes nor your ears; for if you do, it is a hundred to one but that some of them, at one time or another, will persuade you that they are perfectly sane and well, when, were they to be freed from restraint, they would tear you in pieces the very next instant."

Mrs. Rowel looked somewhat disconcerted, and at a loss to meet her husband in a region so scientific that neither seeing nor hearing were of any use; though secretly she could not but wonder, if neither eyes nor ears were to be trusted, by what superior faculty, what divining-rod of intellect, a patient's madness was to be ascertained. Her doubts were not wholly overturned by the ploughshare of the doctor's logic, and therefore she very naturally, though with considerable show of diffidence, stuck pertinaciously to her old opinion.

Her husband felt vexed, and especially as he wished to impose upon her understanding,—that with all his powers of speech, and his assumption of profound knowledge, he could not now, any more than hitherto, succeed in converting her to the faith which he himself pretended so devoutly to hold, that lunatics sometimes could not be known by their conversation, and that the individual James Woodruff, in particular, who was the subject of their conversation, was actually as mad as a March hare, notwithstanding the actions and appearances, undeviating