CHAPTER XXXIV. A DOCBLE REVELATION.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 329, 29 December 1888, Page 6

CHAPTER XXXIV. A DOCBLE REVELATION.

On the Antrim coast, a mile or more above Point Kildare, on the shore of a little bay shut in by tall, rugged bluffs, stood the little cabin, towards Avhich .Michael Kildare was conducting his companions. It belonged to a fisherman" who dwelt here with his old wife. On this day the couple had gone to the market town, on foot, and their boat," a small craft with a'sail^'lay half drawn up on the bit of pebbly beach. Suddenly, into the midst of this seclusion, a man came riding slowly on a jaded horse — a man in whose miserable and haggard aspect one would have found it difficult to recognise the fugitive htißband of the Lady Kathleen. His worst enemy, Lame Bill, might have pitied him in his forlornness and desperation. His garments were worn and dusty and begrimed. The dust on his face, channelled with sweat, gave him a savage appearaece. A wild look gleamed from his eyes — the wildrtess. peculiar to a hunted creature, whether beast or human. And Bassantyne knew himself to be hunted. He had felt that pursuers were on his track from the nighfc of his escape from Ballyconnor — from the very hour in which he •had attacked the constable in the mountain pass, murdering him, and robbing him of his.horse, the animal he now, rode. He had skulked along in his flight, avoid-, ing the main roads, snatching the little sleep he had in rick yards, and in the open fields or under hedges, wliile his horse cropped the herbage near at hand. He had intended to proceed to Ballycastle, and to sail then.cc to? Scotland, but the deadly terror gathering in ( his .soul,' caused him to divert his course, and seek some lonely fisher's cabin. He would hire some fisherman, he thought, to transport him to the Scottish shore. He rode up to the cabin, his wild eyes scanning tbe . 'scene • restlessly and suspiciously, dismounted,, and knocked at the door. , , No one called' to him. He opened "the door, and breathed an audible'ihahksgiving when he found that no one was within. ' They have gone to^wiarket; or to visita, iiei'ghßbur,' he thoilghb; his l gloomy face lighting up. ,' I can go off in their boat. I shall.gejt off safely, after all.' t He was, hun'gry--nearly ' famished. , He' went to"a little 'b^fißoai'd- and J helped him*' .self, liberally, to breacL,a.nol cpjd»cooke,di.fish, of which there was* plenty. , He- ate likeiar starving man, looking over his shoulders, at •every *B'e'c\snd jib f if he 'expected ' to 7 see'ari J eqemy, afc»His elbow^ :,'<:. :,')■• ,| J ' fugitive ."wept out Upon, the beach climbed into the * slo.pp,;and examined it; Ifc was souhd^and / tfimV f ''He gofc'tjut^hgaiti' upV6,n'e*sh6r§; * s aW pusKe'd'' '6fF tHe'TOe' 'craft) into deeper-water! ' 1 t ,' '

'And at that moment, as he was about'to, {, clam bei\ into the vessel again; a 'party bri ' horseback came galloping into full view,r approaching the cabin. It was the party headed by Michael Kildare. , ' „ •> [ Bassantyno saw that there were several men in the party: He "did not notice the" ''flutter of the countess's riding-habit, as she came up in the rear,' and had no idea that there was a woman among .the new-comers'., Hebelieved himself overtaken— overtaken at the' very moment' when he believed 'that, he had won safety. , , \ For a moment he stood as if paralyzed/ turning a wild, white, desperate face towards the on-comers. A mist gathered before his vision. His want of food, want'of ■ sleep, and the terror that had beeri ' grow- ' ing upon him for clays, made him . for^the moment quite blind and helpless. He^elt feebly in his breast pocket for his pistols. ' I won't be taken alive !' he muttered, half inaudibly. [ Then the sound of those ringing hoofs rang out with sudden and startling^force. His vision began to clear. The instinct of flight came upon him again, and' he turned and climbed up the sloop's side , like a cat. The big sail was burled. ' Bassantyne began to shake it out, with a glare iri his eyes liko that ot a maniac. •Hallo, CallahanJ' pried Michael Kildare, galloping doiyn to Uhe beach, Redmond Kildare at his side. 'By George ! it's not Callahan at all. It's some thief trying to steal his boat. Bassantyne scarcely heard or heeded these words. There was a hitch somewhere in the ropes. He could not&h'ake out" the" sail, and here were the men within a rod of him. * A thief ! Do you hear ?' ejaculated Michael Kildare, excitedly, Bassantyne's looks and manner sufficiently indicating that he was in the act of stealing the boat. 'We must stop him. Here, you fellow, surrender !' The sail began to loosen now. The breeze began to fill it. Bassantyne's eyes lit up gloomily, as he cried out : ' Surrender ! Never ! I will not be taken alive ! I warn you lam a desperate man !' The Earl of Kildare, who was braver than the little lawyer, and who had no intention of seeing the sloop he" wanted carried off before his eyes by some thief bolder than he, sprang off his horse; ran over the' strip of beach, and caught at the stern of" the boat. ' 'Back! Back! 3 ' shouted 'Bassantyne, hoarsely, his face all aflame. ' Back, or you die !\ Redmond Kildare did not reply, but he climbed over the side of the boat, and bounded toward Bassantyne with a swift, tiger- like movement. Bassantyne recoiled before him in an awful terror, drew hia pistol, and fired. Redmond Kildaro flung up his arms with a wild shriek, and fell forward on his face into the bottom of the boat. His shriek was echoed by the countess and by Michael Kildare, both of whom came riding towards tho boat like whirlwinds. Bassanbyne saw tbem coming. A cold, gray pallor overspread his face, and his lips 'set together in a terrible smile. ' Come on !' he muttered. 'It is too late to escape now. All lean do is to cheat the hangman.' And as Michael Kildare clambered into the boat Bassantyne put his remaining pistol to his heart, fired, and fell — dead ! The horrors of the scene-were not yet over. Michael Kildare hastened to the side of the prostrate Redmond, and turned up to the sunlight the young man's face- The eyes were open, and a look ot terrible pain was in them. He was terribly wounded in the breast, as it seemed, but'he still lived. The little Dublin lawyer gathered the wounded man's head to his breast, and chafed his hands, and wiped his forehead, crying out : ' Redmond ! Redmond ! speak to me ! You are not dying ?' ' Dying ?' cried the countess, climbing into the boat. ' Redmond dying ! I know better !' And then she laughed a wild, insane laugh, that nearly curdled the blood of those who heard it. The truth was apparent at a glance. All her troubles about tho property, with this added shock of Redmond's dangerous wonnd, had been too much for the countess, or else her cure had not been radical. She was insane again — incurably insane ! 'My God !' ci % ie"d Sir Rusael, appalled by ' these terrible events. ' That man dead ! The countess insane ! Redmond Kildare dying? What are we to de?' 'We must have help immediately for Lord Kildare/ exclaimed Mr Wedburn. ' •We may save him yet. There is a doctor on Point Kildare, is there not ?' ' Tho chaplain understands surgery.' 'JWe must obtain his services at once. We have no time to £pend in going to one of the villages olong the const. Let us leave our horses' here aud sail for the island at once.' Mr Wedburn, being the most self-pos-sessed man in the party, had his own way. He secured the horses in the fisherman's gai-den, followed Sir Russel into the boat, and set the sail. They made their way out of the cove into the waters of the channel. Long before they drew near the open beach in, fi'ont of the castle their approach had been observed. MrVWedburn displayed his handkerchief as a flag of ti'uce, , and as the Lady Nora and her friends came out upon the beach,, and tbe boat drew nearer to the shore, he called'out : 'We have met with an accident. We want the services of a doctor. Will you let us come ashore ?' 'Is this a ruse, liko .your return to Dunloy ?' asked Lord O'Nefl. 'By Heaven, no ! Lord Kildare is dangerously wounded, and we have a dead man in here ! In the name of, humanity, permit us to land on your shores !' The appeal was heeded. The Lady Nora signified that they could land. i The.little'sloop ran into' the shelter of the point, the 1 countess rising aud making frantic attempts to throwh'evs&lf overboard, „a n which she was restrained by Sir Russel ißyan. fin was in sorry plight the little party reached the shore. 'You see what has happened, Lady Ndra?' cried Sir! . Russel; fas he assisted his charge upon thehbeach. > 'The cduntess is insane -again. : Her son ig dying — ' * Dying !' ' Yes ; he>was shot by a fellow wh6 killed himself the next instant. There- the'^man lies; dead in the boat !J! J Impelled 'toy' f sbme sinister fascination, the, party <pp the .beach approached the boat to'lqok upori'thVdead man. . „, ■ ' * '|£t' the first , glance, the Lady, Kathleen' recdgnisedjiim. , Despite all hissqulor arid ' dirt; she knew the dead face as that of the man who had,made*her'life a misery to her "' "for. years. '-'''" • . ]*\ lt'is BaWanty ne !' ' she cried.' ''it is my ' "husband'!', , vt . , , "And with a, strange);,. shrill, -*cry, she' fell' , forward- on^liejsah'^s insensitile^ , Tender Varhis lifted- her, and carried her' ' 'intbthe^ca^tleWthe^arms of Ker/blpTJpver., t ' 'liprd Tregh'am had scarcely c(isappeared r with his burden, when Sir Russel,: Lord

I,o'Neil And theloth^rstfifted-otit of th'e'boab •' •the^terlng fegWcff" Wed&Aid Kilflare, ,and, laid it on the sands. . „' . „. s , w'.THe 'chaplain bent^ovorWm, enool^ his 'head sorrowfully-, -and-said : , . / X, 1 ' *<Lovd KUdareVr I(Cd,n do nothing for you.' <No, human power can help y you'jjnpw. r JLeb , me' advise you to"' make' your peace Nrith ■£od.' „„,_-, •-//..< Redmbncl 'Kildare easped" for Kreabh.* t ', .' Dying,!' ho /Am I dying ?' The chaplainV'compWioniite face answered him?'. ( ,">, " ( , 'Who say's he is J dying _?' crjed^icKael Kildai c, fiercely. 'I ' tell ' yo'u 'he ' is ' nob dying!' He looked around him sullenly, bub he SAw only" pitying "sorrow* in the 'laces bent toward him. • We inus'b' bake him into the casblcj' J i?aid Nora, her eyes flooding with tears. 'Oh, is there nothing we can do for him ?' . The dying man looked uprib her with a feeble surprise and gratitude. ' Too late *?' he whispered. ' Lob me die here. Mictiael?' The laywer, weeping like a woman, bent over theyoung man. • Michael,' whispered Redmond, gaspingly, ' she'll be Lady of Kildare now, when lam 'gone. What was the flaw V / want, to know.' The little lawyer read the truth in the young man man's fast 'glazing eyes, that he was dying. He took him up in his arms and kissed him, crying out in his anguish : vßedmond;v Redmond; "can't you' guess' ib? You are nofi the son of Lord' Re'dmohd Kildare and yonder madwoman. Their son died in his infancy, after the mother had been sent to ' a mad house, and ab a time when Lord Redmond was here ab Point Kildare. I bribed the nurso and substituted you in 'place of the lord's dead son. It wfis" you whom Lord Redmond, mistaken and unsuspicious, took to tho Dox couple as his son. And when he died he believed you his son, and made these' communications 'to me which I have related. A spasm ot pain, mental as well as'physical, convulsed the features ol the dying man. ' Nob Lbi'd Redmond's* son ?' he whispered. ' Who, then, am I?' ( M(j son, Redmond, mine !' sobbed the little lawyer,'"" who, wKateveu li.is, crimes and wick'ednesspoved thfe dying J youtirw^the ten'deresb J 'affection. '"I" did it" bgoaujse J 'loved you. "it 1 was to make jy'ou^rioh^jand honoured tliat' t t did' it. 1* wanted/mj'^On Ito bear 'the proud ' old ti t'le ' from", which I was ~de Barred. — ' , ' ; 'Ah !' said Redmond. ' And who— who was my mother V ' --•••„ The" "lawyer's ' faco flushed, and he trembled. ,|He- would nobj h/iye, answ.ercd, bub those dying eyes competed, |iira, ' Your mother, Redmond,,' he whjtspered, « was — is — Mrs Liffey — my ; wife.',, With a wild., anguished moarj, Redmond Kildare turned away from the fabherwho had sinned so deeply for him, fixed his gaze upon the bright, sunlit-sky, and in another moan his life slipped from him, and he lay on the sands — dead. The bwo men, Redmond and Nicol Bassantyne, were buried on bhe same day. and in the same little country graveyard. The story' of how they met their cleatlis I'was"1 'was" wot suffered to £efc "abroad. After the funeral,, Michael" Kildare, a bowed, l 'strickeri, and prematurely old man, went away with'the insane cduntes^; whom be restored to her former a&ylum. He then returned to Dublin, where he soon after died. Sir Ruseel Ryan stayed behind at Kildare Castle, with Mr Wedburn, -to 'apologize to the Lady Nora! for his harshness' and unbelief. His' grief' was 1 so 'sincere that 'the young Lidy of Kildare did not find it hard .to forgive him. Upon the very day of Bassanytyne's funeral, Lame Bill, who had followed Bassan'byne all the way from Ballyconnor, , losing track of. Him in Antrim came upon Foearty. in th§ streets of Dunloy. He recognized him in/ spite ""off f his'disguise. Foearty turned 'upon huh in self-de-fence. A fight followed, in which thetwo men mortally wounded each other. Neither ever spoke again, and with them perished all danger of a declaration to the world of Bassanfcynn's identity l With the fugitive convict. Bassantyne's secret was buried with him, co far as the world was concerned. Ib was the day after the ftineral. • The Lady Kathleen 'was 'seated in the Hfcfcle^ octagon sea-parloUr, pole, 'but bright ''and hopeful. With Bassanytine jV had perished all her griefs. She was absorbed in thought. 'when' 'the door opened and Lord "Tresham came in. His lordship approached the'young maiden widow, and sat down at her aid. ' You are nob grieving, Kathleen ?' ho ' said. 'Grieving?' She burned her face to him quickly, blushing. ' All our sorrows are over, are they not, Kathleen ?' asked Tresham, gently drawing her nearer to him. 'You will- marry me af rer a little ?' ' Yes, if you want me after heaVing my Btoi-y,' said the Lady Kathleen, shyly. ' I shall wanfyou airthe'same, Kathleen. Bub you need ' not rake 1 -'up for me these bitter memories. Let them die 'Aithßassanbyne.' _, ' You iniisb know all Before I/promise to marry you,'" said the ' Xady l£athleen. 1 Barry'," when I w'enb with' 1 you to the Scottish shore bo be married T though t'Bassan- ■' tyne dead.' ' I know it.' ' That fraudulent in Scotland was not my first marriage to Bassantyne.' <• Lord Tresham started. > /JL ' I was married to him' years ago in Lon-i, don. The marriage was secret. 1 knew him as the Count Clairaulb. I thought I\ loved him,' said the Lady Kathleen, pant-, ingly, lier head 'bowed. 'I bhoughb him goodandiionoirrfible ; atfd we"'had hardly; lefb the altar when he"demanded; money of me. His words when making the demand* opened my eyes to his character. Two of; his friends, who' had* been 'his< 'grdbmsme'n and witnesses — I -thought them foreign' army officers — laughed to^see' my dismav,ii my terror, my horror of the man I hadmawried. I weri"f^bo~"iny own home, refusing' tb' 'Jt'ecbgnisef* t'he ;; marriage- as valid. ■ Untib.he wenl to Australia Jlpq.idtßassan-' tyne half my rincome- tb-be k allowed; bo re-/ tain my f reedom, and o my' secret..'. 'His object in liiarryint? ms badbeen to, get money. • Igave it him and 'kept my 'secret: ''i ■ . \ IMy poor Kuthleen !'„,.) j . '. , ' , -'•He.was'sent to, Australia; I heard that' he idiej:l there. , All 'the years he Avas tliere I wag obliged; to pay heavy sums •of) nioney to the two I witnessses^o'ffmy-.imarriagleito.ip.re-venb them- from, divulging 'my secret. I have lived, a life, of <;Mrrpi* and;pfer§ecution. • The^knowleicjge^that 1 had been married tot Wruffianpa villain, "'a convict, has weighed? > 'ine^td'the'e'dl'fch.'^ Y^^'Ha^e hbardW'stor'y, !i Lord' Tresliym{' u knd !fc ba'ri to eoiiif P&ieWWow > wWydu'miis'&leaVe-m'e.'"* 1^ " " ; "/jo ' Never. ! J/ *OH,i'ifl#- aKMhg'"^ only told nie'thifTftOvy that night wljen We' sat on the 'rooks I 1I 1 'We HidvcT l beeti' spared much after grief I .' From henceforth, i ' Kathleen, \vo will share our griefs together. t , /My^^Hifel'l^B'diFnever let you gofrofo ' -me-again !' » y .*' * '.' ' : '"'''i u f j*? •ife- clasped her imdffei'\i3iit felmbi'a'ceifahdf : both .hearts, isq-'lorig^r^rlef tktegeS, t^jabjir Ipeace and joyat* last. •* *-' J »'o- ' l{ *

• - Fbr^naan , like jßaßsfttttynej ', who' mourn? Surely not the !jnaidfen- tie had Jo •terribly yWrbn^ea'^^Slfe^made no pre^en'sei of ; y eating- -mourning : f pry, him, t" £nd ? whsn Lord i'resham begged her toj marry ;him soon, she ctid riot refuse* his .earnest .demand. ' * ' /' Some three-orfourmonths later the littfle 'Kildare -chapel, was' de'ciorated ' with • eveVgreen and holly,, the bpll rang a merry peal, the, tenantry and.jservanbs assembed, and 'among ' these' '"faifcKful friends ( the Lady ? Kathleen was married' 'to Lord s 'Trb'sham, and the Lady ,Nora Kildare was. united to Lord o'Neil. , ; , tt , , Sir Russel Ryan 'gave, away' tlie -brides/ Shamus O'La i ifer't3r ( \Vas'the r gtand master pi ceremonies, both then and ati tKe, festivities that followed at the castle. ■' Aleen lyiahony her father ,JJm^Kelly,lold Shane; 1 Dennis and all were in high spirits,^ and executed their parts in an Irish" reel, on the Vvening after the^c'e'remVny/wibh full as much zeal, as grace. And to-day Lord 'O'Neil and His spirited and lovely^ young bride are as happy as they deserve,' and Glen O'Neil is being fast restored" t6 ! its ancient glory. tTie^nd.