LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IV, Issue 443, 15 November 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

AN ADVENTUEE IN IRELAND. The winter of 1567 was a severe one in Ireland, and the poor misguided Fenians who spent hours and hours shivering on the bare hill-sides of Kerry or the bogs of Athlone must have had a hard time of it. While marching and countermarching, the cold might be endurable ; but when it came to listening to a speech for two hours at a time —and, unfortunately, the Fenians were very fond of speaking, and very averse to action—it must have cooled down the ardour of a good many of the patriots. I was not a Fenian, I need hardly say, nor had I any sympathy whatever with them. I was—and. in fact am—an officer in Her Majesty's Regiment, and only happened to be in Ireland at that time on a short leave of absence. Though an Irishman by birth and education, I am not politically bilious, nor nationally dyspeptic, nor have I 'a grievance'—and I believe I am about the only Irish gentleman I know who can say as much. We have always been a loyal family ; our ancestors for generations distinguished themselves for unwavering fidelity to their sovereigns ; represented the family borough in parliament in the Tory interest, and were hereditary deputylieutenants and justices of the peace- I reached home two days before Christmas eve, to find my father and mother both away, and learned that they would not be back for three or four days. It was a sad disappointment; but as my coming was meant for a surprise, and about the most unexpected event that could possibly happen, I could hardly blame them. The first day, I spent roaming over the house and stables, and in the evening I idled over my dinner, and yawned over a novel afterwards. A great gloomy country house, with no one in it but yourself, is not the pleasantest place in the world to spend a long December evening.

The next day it rained as it only can rain in the south of Ireland—with a calm, deliberate, dogged perseverance ; and I sat at the window and watched the unceasing dripdrip from the leaves of the laurustinus and holly, and smoked as persistently almost as the rain descended. The next morning, just as I was entertaining seriously the notion of returning to London by the next mail from Limerick, a note was brought up from Sir William Ayr, asking me to dine with him that evening. Sir William was the father of Captain Ayr, a brother-officer, and I was delighted at the prospect of renewing my

acquaintance with the old gentleman, who used to ' tip' me royally when I was a schoolboy. I had not seen him for seven years; and as I dressed for dinner, I remembered that Sir William had some daughters, who promised to be very charming girls when I last saw them. Therefore, I dressed with more than usual care; and putting on a frieze greatcoat, for the night was intensely cold. I mounted Comet, my father's favourite chestnut, a magnificent thorough-bred, and at six o'clock started for Glenloe, Sir William's residence—a ride of eight Irish miles, through that bleak and desolate stretch of country where the county Limerick adjoins the county Clare. I had not got more than three miles from home, when I suddenly pulled up my horse and listened, for I heard the most heartrending groans imaginable, which seemed to proceed from a neighbouring field. Riding on a little, the cries sounded nearer, and then I felt sure that they came from some one lying a little way up a narrow lane just before me. I listened a moment, and then, urged by a sort of curiosity, I dismounted, and tying my horse to a tree, went on a voyage of discovery. I had not gone more than two dozen yards when I stumbled over the body of a man lying across the path. 'Hollo " I said, ' what's the matter ?' * Och, mille murther ; don't, yer honour, don't touch me ! Shure, I'm a decent boy. Oh ? Oh !' ' What's the matter ?! I again asked. • Are you hurt ?! ' There's not a bone in me body that isn't broke, yer honour. Me two eyes is druv into one, an I'm black and blue all over. It's them blagourd Fenians, sur.' ' How—when ?' I said. ' What's your name ?' * Michael Hennessy, sur; an I was comin home from the fair of Killaloe, when four men came from behind a hedge, an knocked me down, took all me money, an beat me till they left me for dead. Oh !Oh !' 'Don't howl so dismally, man. "Sou're not dead yet, nor anything like it. Stand up, and try if you can walk,' I said. •Do you live far from here ?' ' Not far, yer honour; an I feel aisier now, since you spoke to me. O wirra, wirra, sir !' I helped the fellow to his feet, gave him a small flask of brandy I had in my pocket, and saw him safely over the stile on his way home, and then returned to where I had left my horse. To my intense surprise and dismay, I found Comet, my father's pet chestnut, gone, and a miserable knock-kneed skeleton gray mare shivering in his place. The wretched beast was cropping the grass by the roadside, and every now and then he gave his head a toss, in a way peculiar to Irish cart horses, with a partiality for trespassing on some farmer's clover. I walked up and down the road, and glanced over the hedges, but Comet was nowhere to be seen, though what could have become of him puzzled me. Presently I heard an * halloo!' from the field in the direction Hennessy had gone. *ls it the chestnut yer looking for, yer honour?' ' Yes,' I replied at the top of my voice. ' Where is he ?' ' Fax, I wouldn't wonder if one Captain Casey took a fancy to him, an while yer honour was talkin to me, borrowed the loan of the baste. Good night, sur, an a pleasant journey to ye on ould Curran's gray mare.' And 1 just caught the echo of a derisive laugh from the field. It was not in a very pleasant temper that I mounted the old hack and proceeded in the direction of Glenloe, mentally resolving to say nothing of my adventure. That I had been swindled in the simplest way imaginable by a clever but transparent trick, I saw plainly, but I resolved to make the best of it, and account for the disappearance of Comet as best I could. Not blessing the land of my forefathers, and declaring, in no very measured terms, that the Island of Saints was the most delightful one in the world ' to live out of,' I got a few miles farther on my journey, when I was again brought to a stand-still; this time, by about a dozen policemen drawn up across the road. I attempted to pass, but the sergeant very deliberately laid his hand on my arm, and said in measured tones—' I arrest you, in the name of the Queen.' ' Arrest me !' I cried. "' What for ?' ' Treason felony is the indictment in the warrant issued for your apprehension,' one of the men said, slapping me on the shoulder ; while another, with a dexterity which puzzled me then, and has continued to do so till this day, slipped a pair of handcuffs on my wrists. ' Where is the warrant ?' I asked. 'Safe enough, I warrant,' the sergeant said with a dry little laugh ; ' and even if we hadn't that valuable little bit of paper, we would take the liberty of looking after your interests under the Suspension of the Act, all the same. Come along, captain. ' So far I had been perfectly good-tempered, and treated the matter as a joke; but I was soon thoroughly vexed, for I was only a lieutenant at that time, and I resented the sarcasm of the broad-shouldered sergeant of the Royal Irish Constabulary. ' Now look here,' I said ; 'I am not going to stand any more of this nonsense ; it is going beyond the limits of a jest. Allow me to pass.' 1 Come on, sir.—Fall in, men; and in a moment they had formed a square round me with fixed bayonets. I remonstrated, and told them angrily who I was, and where I was going. ( To be continued.')