and ammunition were entrusted to his care, and he had to see to the distribution of these, and try by these means to raise the surrounding chieftains to arms. He was also in full expectation of the arrival of reinforcements from Spain, and he thought he could be of more service to the cause in being ready to receive the expected Spaniards than cooped up again. in the beleaguered fortress of Dunboy. Be this. as it may, no one can accuse him of cowardice in not returning. But he never did return, or if he did, it could only have been to gaze on a smoking and blood-stained ruin, where once had stood the proud towers of his ancient line.'

'And what became of him?' asked the stranger. 'Do finish the story of Dunboy by telling what became of its owner.'

'The expected Spanish reinforcements never arrived,' continued Kathleen. 'News spread to Spain that Dunboy had fallen, and the king countermanded the enterprise. On hearing this O'Sulevan took refuge with some four hundred followers in the wild recesses of Glengariffe, where he defied the foe in the then inaccessible woods and rocks of that district. His wife, Lady Aileen, and her infant child, he had already placed under the care of his foster

brother MacSwiney. And at length he resolved to fight his way through a hostile country to the north of Ireland, where he heard that O'Neil still held out against the English. This feat he accomplished. The story is too long and too wonderful to relate at present, but his wife was preserved at Glengariffe in a cave close to the eagle's nest, and mainly, it is said, by the food which the eagle brought her young ones, and which MacSwiney forced her to share with Lady Aileen and her baby. And here,' concluded Kathleen, my melancholy story ends.'

All now rose from their seats; they warmly thanked Kathleen for her story of Dunboy,' the more interesting for having been told on the very spot where the transactions occurred and having returned to Castletown and packed themselves again into the little carriage, they started on their long drive home to Derreen.

CHAPTER X.

ENGLAND AND IRELAND.

THE drive to Derreen was charming. The weather proved to be perfection-one of those soft balmy autumn evenings when all nature seems hushed and at rest. No noise intruded on the stillness of the hour except the hissing sound of the wheels on the sandy road, and the rapid patter of the shaggy little ponies' feet. Sometimes, indeed, a momentary rush could be heard as they rapidly passed some little mountain cascade leaping down the rocks, and sometimes the deep boom of a heavy wave against the shore would make itself audible. But the pervading features of the evening were calmness, silence, and balmy warmth.

The ponies had trotted some six or seven miles before any of the party spoke. The tale of Dunboy had impressed them all more or less with melancholy, and the disposition to silence which so frequently pervades a pleasure party

after the interest of a long summer day's excursion-where, from mutual intelligence, silence will not be mistaken for stupidity-gradually crept over them all.

At length, however, the stranger broke the charm; and evidently following up the thoughts which had been running in his own mind, he said

It seems to me that the Irish never have forgiven, and almost never can forgive, the English conquest. I cannot understand why

this should be. Almost all nations have been at one time or other conquered, but the conquerors have become amalgamated with the original race, and both after a time formed one united nation. The Normans conquered the Saxons; but though in the beginning they were as bitterly opposed to each other as ever the Irish and English were, yet after a time all settled down, and now these distinctions of race are almost unknown and rarely alluded to, except amongst the ancient families, who, as a matter of pride, delight to trace their origin back to the Norman conquest. But there is no antagonism of races between them, and Saxon and Norman dwell together peacefully. Why should it not be so in Ireland?'

2

'The reason is plain enough,' replied Donald. 'It is now eight hundred years1 since William the Conqueror first came from France and conquered Harold the last of the Saxon kings; whereas, it is only two hundred years since unhappy Ireland was not only conquered but confiscated. Perhaps in six hundred years hence Ireland also may be at peace! But at all events until this time elapses the parallel will not be complete. The war between the Normans and Saxons raged for many a year after the first invasion, Granting, however, that the Saxon churls (as they were called by the Normans in those days) did not avenge the taking of their lands, and the subjugation of their country as bitterly as the Irish have done— granting that they were more submissive and yielded more readily to their conquerors-are we sure that it showed a nobler or higher spirit than has been shown by the Irish throughout the long and weary war they have waged against their conquerors? That undying love

1 William the Conqueror fought the battle of Hastings, in which King Harold was slain, on October 14, 1066.— Hume's History of England.

2 The confiscations under Cromwell took place chiefly in the year 1660, or from 1658 to 1663.-Prendergast's Cromwellian Settlement.