LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2463, 27 February 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

EVA D'ALTON'S EEVENGH 1 . [Prom "Tinsley'a Magazine." The night was dreary and dark and cold. Rain had been falling heavily all the evening, and thu streets were wet and muddy under foot. Merchant's Quay, Dublin, ia the year 1802, was a very different thoroughfare from what It is now. There were than no gas-lamps, no cabs, no tramwayp, no policemen. The roadway was rough and uneven ; the footpath was little better. The Inolement weather and the uneven pavement seemed, however, to give little concern to two porsone, who hurried along with swift steps iu the direction of Bridge street, so called from the ' Old Bridge,' in earlier times the only one which the Irish capital pos sessed from Oxmanstown to the sea. A tall graceful woman, young, as one might judge from her walk and figure, closely veiled, enveloped in a capacious mantle, which she drew tightly around her, was followed by a man, apparently a servant, who trudged along with a curious half-limping, halfrolling giit. The oontraat between the two was striking. The level carriage, the light springing step, firm yet elastic of the female, denoted youth and activity. The man, on the other hand, was stunted, hunchbacked, bow-legged. Nevertheless, he managed to keep going at a pretty good speed, and never permitted the distance between himself and his mistress to be inoreased by as much as a foot. The lady did not slacken her pace until she reached tho turning into Bridge street, where she stopped, and addressed a few hurried whispered words to her companion. The latter aeemed to expostulate with her; but whatever his arguments, they were silenced by the firm and resolute way in whloh she replied : * I am determined to go on.' Proceeding np the street their positions became reversed. It was the man who took the lead, the lady following. When they had gone something about half way, the man stopped at the entrance to a narrow lane way, ohroudod in complete darkness. There was again a whispered colloquy, the hunchback urging passionately that the lady would forego her intention, while »he peremptorily insisted that he should obsy her direotimd. ' For the love of Heaven, Miss Eva, d»r liut,' he said, * don't go any farther I You don't know all the thrubble an' all the dauger tint's beLra you It might be death itself for you an' me if we wor caught this night, Sliure an' I'll do anything y«u bid me. It's no great matter if they kill me outright; but It 'ud ba a terrible thing Intirely If they were to discover you, astho'e. Ba sed by me for this wonst, Miss Eva, darlint ; I'll get a choir round here in Cook athreet. 1 know a couple of boys, and they'll like you home to the square In no time. Do, mavourneen, an' I'll find out all you want to know, an' bring you word early in the mornin'.'

' Dennis, you ara only wasting ■words, and yoa annoy me greatly. I tell yon I have made up my mind to undertake this thing myself. I will complete what I have begun. If you are afraid, give me your dark lantern, and I will proceed by myself.' ' Afraid, Miss Kva ?' and the little man made an effort to straighten himself, with the air of a soldier ; ' dont aay another word ; my life 'd be little to give if you wanted it. Whatever be the end of this night's work, I wa»h my hand iv it; but the arm that injures you will be stretched oyer my oorpae.' A few seconds later and they stood before a low narrow doorwav, leading into a house the principal front of which, o copied by a draper, gave upon Bridge street. Denis unlocked the door cautiously, and, &a it slowly opened, poured oil upon the hinges. Noiselessly they entered a little hall-way. not more than six feet square. A winding staircase of iron occupied the greater portion of the hall. Closing the door carefully, Denis took from his pocket a pair of coarse woollen stockings, which he drew over his shoes, and then proceeded to ascend the spiral stairs, followed by his mistress. On entering the hall she had lifted her veil, and the light from the man's lantern fell upon her beautiful face. It was truly a lovely face, perfect in every feature, wiih a broad white forehead, straight no3e of Grecian type, and eyes of mjst "unholy" blue She was very pale, and her lips were compressed tightly, but she never faltered nor wavered. She had set hercelf a task, and wss determined to go through with it. When they reached the top of the stalroase they found themselves in a little lobby, the same size as the hall below. Off this was a small room, which they entered. As they did so thero fell upon their ears indistinotly. and as if coming from a distance, tbe tones of a man's voice. Denis redoubled his caution. Had the circumstances been less grave, Eva conld not have refrained from laughing at the comical appearance of the little man. At every step he made he doubled himself up; he olosed each eye alternately, wrinkled his forehead, puckered his mouth, and went through a hundred contortions, indicative of the apprehension he ftlt for the safety of his preoious charge. At length he led her to the remotest corner of the room, and pointing to a short step ladder, moiioned her to go ap to the top. Having done so, she drew aside a small picture hanging about a foot from the ceiling, and applied her eye to an aperture in the wall.

This was w?iat Bhe saw—A spaclour room, hang with dark red paper and siautily furnished ; the shutters of the windows closed and barred, and the curta!na, of heavy orlmson material, drawn. The centre of the room was occupied by a long table covered with crimson baize, on which were lampa, a number of ink-bottles and writing materials, but no documents of any kind. At the head of the table, farthest away from Eva's hiding-place, sat a splendid looking old gen tleman, evidently the chairman or president of the meeting His hair was silver white; but hia eye was keen as that of any of the young men near him, and his form as erect, aroiid the tabie were seated about twenty men, young for the most part, although some wera middle-aged and some advanced in years. It was evidently no festive gathering. Every face was grave, thoughtful, de termlned ; only the youngest of oil showed a passing emotion by kindling glance or trantient flush of the cheek; their seniors wore throughout calm and impassioned. Kva'a eyes turned from the president's chair towards a yonng man who sat some short distance away at the side of the table. Clarence Mesra was a handsome fellow, with a high forehead, clear honest eyes, and features of a refined and intellectual type, a curious mingling of womanly tenderness and and heroic firmness being suggested in the lines of mouth and chin. There was a dead silence ss the president resumed an address which had been interrupted for a moment shortly after Eva took her seat on the top of tbe step ladder. He said that he had Buffici' ntly for the benefit of junior members, that thtir first duty waß to their country, whose independence they had sworn to achieve ; but he wished to remind them the very name of their association, ' The Faithful Brotherhood,' suggested yet another obligation, eßpeoially binding by the raise of the order, namely, that they were bound to each other, under all circumstances, ' in sickness, in health, in poverty, in trouble, in life, and death. Should a brother be in difficulty or danger, we are bound, each one and all of us, to afford him aid and protection. Should he fall by the band of an enemy, we are bound to avenge him ' A low murmur of applause followed the president's speech, while Eva Bat motionless, scarcely daring to move or breathe, and the old hunchback sitting on the floor, gazed steadily at the faint gleam of light whioh fell upon her white forehead through the narrow aperture In the wall. After a brief pause the president again rose, and said that he had to inform the meeting of the existence, in the west of Ireland, of a society of abandoned men associated for the worst purposes, ' prostituting tbe sacred namn of patriotism to all vile uses disgracing and discrediting the name of the "Faithful Brotherhood," In whose honor and fair fame they were all so intimately concerned." It was intended, he said, to send a representative to the part of tbe country where this society flourished. It was a duty tf much danger; bat he had no doubt that there would be numerous volunteers. At the close of the president's observations, some of the younger members fought fer the post of danger as brave soldiers for the honor of leading a forlorn hope. Clarence Meara was selected. The hunchback moved uneasily; he had not. daring all th ; a time, removed his eye once from the tbiu ray of light that fell on the girl's face ; but he felt tint she • huddered as the sound of the voice ceased. Gently

and noiselessly he approached, and softly touched her hand, as if to a»snre her that do danger could reach her while he was by her Hide. When Meara's name was announced she arose, and cautiously and Blowly crept down-stain, preceded by the hunchback. In a short time 'hey reached the street, the man taking care to oil the hinges of tho door. A sedan-chair was in waiting a little distance away, and a liokboy answered briskly tho signal given by Penis. Ab soon as the lady got in, the bearers lifted their light burden and went off at a quick trot, followed by tbo faithful servant, who, in spite of his deformity, managed to get over the ground at an astonishingly quick pace. Kva D'Alton was the orphan daughter and heiress of a country gentleman of considerable fortune. After his death the family residence in tho country was shut up, and Eva came to reside with her annt in Merrion squara. Suitors there were in scores who sought to make themselves agreeable to the beautiful young heiress. That out of a host of admirers, inoluding lords and commoners, old gentlemen and young, rich men and needy, she should have chosen Clarence Meara, a newly made barrister of narrow fortune, proved that riches and flattery had not spoilt her. He, on the other hand, had recommended himself In the way most likely to gain favor with such a girl. He was handsome, well born, clever—a particular favorite with her friends. She met him at pretty nearly all the houses where she was intimate, and could not help letting him see that she much preferred his society to that of the a wains who were perpetually dawdling after her. He did not presume upon his advantage or on her evident preference. On the oontrary, when he began to realise that the feeling with which he regarded her was something stronger than mere friendship, he wisely concluded that it was scarcely prudent of him to yield to an attachment destined, in all probability, to be an unfortunate one ; since he was, from a money point of view, not a very eligible suitor, and could not be compared as a parti with wealthier and more aristocratic rivals. Accident determined his fate in a ourioue, if not very romantic, fashion. He and Miss D'Alton were riding one day in the Phoenix Park. She was mounted on a spirited mare, rather fresh, and consequently skittish. He rede a Oalway colt of bluest horse-blocd, but whose mouth and manners were not of the best. As they cantered pleasantly under the shadow of the trees, tbo young lady lectured Clarence on being each a very bad visitor; while he, who was greatly in love, though he would not acknowledge it, was saying to himself quite dolefully that the less he saw of her the better for his own piece ot mind. Suddenly, as they reached a turning where the road was h'dden from view by the bordering trees, there was a loud blare of military muslo—drums and trumpets and clarions—and bath horses took fright. Clarence's strong hand checked the mare at once j but, losing for a moment his command over the colt, the brute bounded forward, and the rider's bead coming agaii st the projecting branch of a tree, he was hurled to the ground. He lay insensible for a brief space. When he came to he found his head resting on Eva's knee, as she bathed his forehead with some water fetched by a ragged little boy from the pond hard by. She was very pale, and her eyes were dim with tear.i. As Clarence Meara looked at her, her head was turned away, and she did not know that he had so far recovered. The shook was very slight, and though somewhat dizzy, his censes were thoroughly restored ; but as ho felt the tender hand upon his forehead, and heard the sweet, gentle voice murmuring at his ear, he could not resist the temptation to keep his eyes closed, and to drink in the words which made his heart's pulse quicken. * My darling, my darling 1' she murmnred * why don't you ope a your eyes and look at me ? How pale, how white you are ! How like death this is! Oh my love, if yon were to die thus, my heart would break !' As he slowly opened his eyes and gazed into her face, a slight Hush came to her oheek.

' Thank God, * she said, with emotion, 'you are better again! Don't move jast yet—rest there ;' and she pillowed his head upon her arm. An unutterable feeling of happinrs? thrilled through him j passionate love words rose unbidden to his jips, and were spoken ere he had time to think. Then he said little—Eva not a word. They gazed into each other's eyes, and a eilent kiss sealed their love. The little ragged boy who had brought the water and held the horses opened his great stucer eyes in astonishment, much enhanced somewhat later when he saw the extent of the reward he received for his small services. Eva's love, once given, was Btaunch and trae as it was pure and unselfish. Soon her affection and faith were pat to the trial. She happened accidentally to overhear a conversation in her aunt's drawing-room, as she rat in an anteroom separated from the other apartment by heavy curtains, but within hearing of the speakers—two old ladits, with an Inexhaustible fund of gossip and an assorted supply of all the scandal and tittle-tattle of the neighborhood. Although she took no pains to listen, eho could not but hear, and her attention was aroused by the mention of her lover's name. They spoke of the disturbed state of the country, the strange fearful rumors that were abroad; referred to the existence of a treasonable conspiracy and a mysterious association ; deplored the heedlessness and folly of young men like Mr Meara, always prone to run into the wildest danger unthinkingly. At their next meeting Kva told Clarenco everything she had heard.

He said simply—'Dear, there are some thing girls should not inquire about too curiously. In the affairs of the world there are some secrets wbioh we hide even from love. My sweet one, you must trust me in this. Can yon not believe in mo fully.' She looked into his eyes for an instant without speaking, and then said—' I believe and trust you most fully and entirely.' ( To be continued )