CHAPTER XXX.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XIX, Issue 16, 16 January 1891, Page 21

CHAPTER XXX.

The horsemen shook themselves into motioD, rode lightly round to the rear of the pass, aDd, couching their long spears, went straight at the cavalry, wbo, bavii g failed to follow their fellows to tbe hill, were busy clearing the way by cutting to pieces stray broken bands wbo still defended positions of vantage. The shock was great. Men and horses were quickly overthrown, and tbe glensmen in the victorious burst went through them, driving them to the mouth of the pass, where a furious figbt ensued. For a moment the column of troopers reeled unsteadily, and the sudden affright tbat proceedes a panic set in. It needed but a second more to see them break and flee. 11 Soldiers !" cried an officer riding down the hill from where tbe more adventurous and daring troopers were at work, " Soldiers 1 Will you allow a handful of savages to affright you ? Bally near me, and show that English bravery is not an empty word !" As if a trumpet bad sounded victory in their ears, the hesitating soldiers cheered him— all sense of fear or intention of retreat vanished, as Mordaunt, flushed with victory, waved his sword above his head. Maurice had joined his friends when the enemy had come near, and charged with them. He had gained the month of tbe pass, and commandea a fair view of the gallant stand the pikemen were making on the plain and behind the hedges. The hill-sides were covered with powder-smoke, and the fate of the battle there was unknown. Bat he saw at once that if his horsemen could get into the opening. Ibe fate of the English infantry there was sealed. One brave effort and the day was won I " Wicklow to me I A moi ? " cried he, using in the excitement of the moment the French rallying cry. " Into the open, men : into tbe open I" "You here, too, traitor I" cried Mordaunt, as leaping his horse across a low earthen dyke he spurred towards bim. " You herestill treacherous and still disloyal 1" As he aimed a blow at his head, Maurice caught the blow on his sword, but before he bad time to do more a portion of the column fleeing before the Wicklow men came rushing abreast, and in the collision his horse went down, and he himself was flung in the dyke. Stunned and bruised, he raised himself to his feet, but only to find that a similar event had befallen his foe, who, gathering bimself together more deftly, advanced to meet him on foot. It was a curious scene and a strange one— in the pass the opposing horsemen contested fiercely hand to hand for mastery, without order, without organisation, almost without leaders, a sort of mititary faction right, in which lives were quenched evtry second, and no quarter was given or asked. On the hillsides the cloud of musketiy arose thicker and thicker, shutting out all view, and here in the grassy dyke, separated from th° combatants only by a thin row of trees, the two foemen, perfectly unheeding tbe storm of war around, cloEed on one another. It was no hurried action, there was no haste, but coolly as v were a set and ordered duel, tdey confronted one another. Eacb felt that it was to be a fight to the death, each knew that his opponent was one of dangerous metal, and that a fatal thrust or feint or second's unsteadiness of hand brought death wi h it. It behoved eacb, fjr dear life's sake, and (or triumph and revenge, to be cool and guarded, and therefore with eyes malignantly bent on each other, witn foot advanced, and with swords on tbe level, they stood for a brief second, each hesitating to commence, and give the o'her the advantage. Borne thought of the sweet lair face among the Wicklow hills occurred to Maurice, for he said, without stirring his hand or taking his eye off the other — "Must we, then, slay and kill one anotber, Mordaunt .'' If he meant the question as an attempt at reconciliation it failed in its effect. " Traitor !— double-dyed traitor !— false to king and friend!" said Raymond, whilst the light leaped cold and malignant from his eyes, as he made a sudden thrust at his foe. The point of his sword passed through Maurice's uniform, grazing his side— had he not warded it off with a slight touch it would have passed through bis heart. He felt the blood trickling from the wound. It taught him the danger in which he was more tb»n anything else could, and,abandoning the attempt at reconciliation, grew wary, watchful, and cautious. Several passes were made, several times their steel across or along one another, evoking spaiks, but neither gained tbe advantage. Both had grown careful, as behoved men face to face with a deadly enemy, and in whom tbe turn of a hair's breadth might mean death. A rapid play of sword blades, a successive series of steel-sparks, and Mordaunt's sword pierced his opponent's shoulder. At the same momeßt bis foot slipped and he fell on ene knee, but, as he did he threw away the sword, and snatched at the pistol in his belt— perhaps unthought of until now— and levelled it at his foe. Maurice stunned for a moment, leaped forward, the bullet passed him unharmed, and he lifted his sword to cleave his unrelenting enemy to the dust. He felt his strength going from him, ana knew tbat if the duel continued much longer tie should fall and be at the mercy of his antagonist. Life is sweet, and in the hour of utmost peril all other considerations vanish into nothing before its preservation 1 Once for all, now / But be had mistaken the strength and activity of bis foe, who suddenly leaped up and bounded in on bim, throwing him off bis guard. Maurice leaped quickly aside to avoid him, and with Bwift motion, almost instantaneous in its swiftness, brought his sword to tbe descent. As a wild wolf or a savage lion, the implacable foe must die. One or other must die ; and, if possible, not he ! Raymond Mordaunt, missing bis foe, stumbled and fell prostrate uu Ing lace. Aud as be did tbe uplifted ewuiJ descending to »uiitc

him broke across in its descent ; and, half-blinded with loss of blood and dnst and perspiration, Maurice taw that it was shivered on an oaken staff interposed between him and the object of bis vengeance and that the staff was carried by a well-known form. A well-known face shone from amidst the midst of powder-smoke that had surrounded them, and a well-known voice spoke. " This is not battle ; this is murder I" eaid the interposer sternly, "Friar Tally !" cried Maurice, in anger and surprise. "Friar, stand aside ! You have no business here," as he turned with a broken sword to meet his fallen foe struggling to arise. " Don't lift your hand— l command you 1" said the Friar, facing him. " This is personal feud, therefore murder t Slay no man in hate 1 And look 1 Further bloodshed is useless, even if it was jnst. L >ok yonder ! The day is lost. Fly, man, fly while there it time. Ireland's cause is in the dust, and will be for many a day. Fly ; sate yourself while there is yet time." Appalled by the manner of his address as well as by his words, Maurice looked in the direction indicated. The hillsides were bereft of smoke, and bare and open to the view. And a woefn) sight met bis eyes. The regiments of English cavalry had made sad havoc of the untrained Irish infantry. The slopes were covered with dead and wounded, and the Irish army — now a disorganised multitude— were flying in all directions, mostly in the direction of the spreading marshes and bogs behind t The fortunes of the day had unaccountably changed, and the battle was hopelessly lost. Maurice stood thunderstruck. " Fly, and save yourself,' urged the Friar. "Lobs and shame enough have come on our cause to-day. Fly while there is yet time. My place is here among the dying. Do you go?" Thus urged, and scarcely knowing what be was doing, but conscious that some great and strange calamity had fallen, Maurice leaped into the saddle from which a dying soldier had just reeled and fallen, and seizing the reins put spurs to his horse and dashed forward to the entrance co the pass. Here, having gained the open, he could see that the defeat was complete. Tbe English infantry at the bayonet point were driving the Irish musketeers before them on the swords of tbe cavalry above. " One charge to save the poor fellows, Maurice," said a voice beside him. " And then for the hills. The day is lost beyond hope. Follow me then, and sweep tbe field of those fellows." It was Hugh O'Byrne that spoke. And presently the heavy canter of horsemen behind told that the remnant of the glenamen were beside. la a moment they were riding down on the English, bayonet men wbo, fUhting in scattered array, were unable to coalesce and to save themselves from the horseman, and ran for shelter everywhere. This gave the broken ranks of the Irisb pikemen time— not to reform, that was perfectly hopeless — but to seek reireat and safety in the swamps ani quagmires of the bog where the English cavalry could not follow them. The re ult secured, O'Byrne called out : " Take the road to tbe right, men— make for the Wicklow hills." A large body of cavalry waa aeecending from the slopes to the aid of their fellows, and there was no time to be lost, if retreat was not cut off. Tbe road — a narrow one— lay through the spreading bog, and along this the remnant of tbe horsemen flew. A steed came madly tearing along over the field, the reins trailing over his neck, the rider with head stooped, bendiag over his saddle. Tbe reins had fallen from his nerveless hand. Maurice, in the emergency of the moment, thought he recognised the wouoded form, and spurring bis borse came up with the maddened charger, caught the reins, and, whilst tbe scattered infantry were gathering towards tbe approach to the road to bar his way, swept by tbem, and rode with all his speed after the retreatmg glensmtn — the hoofs of bis horse raising sparks out of the stony surface of the road. Tbe latter was considerably elevated above the surface of the surrounding bog — either because it had been so originally or that the latter bad been much cut away and lowered, and so prevented the retreating horsemen being taken in flank. "Tbe enemy are pursuing us, Maurice," said O'Byrnc as the former came up with him, " look yonder." LookiDg, Maurice saw tbat in the distance a crowd of horsemen seemed coming. " We had better turn and face them bere," said the Wicklowman, "It is a narrow road, and half a dozen are as good as a thousand.— We can give our wearied and wounded horsemen time to retreat by barring tbe enemy's way for a while." " Precisely what I was thinking, said Maurice, as, galloping forward a little, he entrusted the charge of his wounded companion to one of the glensmen, and then returned. " They must be hardy fellows if they dare to force men at bay on tbis narrow causeway," remarked Maurice, as, with faces set towards the late battlefield, they awaited tbe coming of the troopers. "They seem coming at any rate,' said Colonel O'Byrne. " I hope they may. It will be a fairer chance, and an evener match than we had this day." "By heavens ! they are returning — they have thought better of it — 9ee, they are riding back." " The worsa luck I" said the Wicklowman, disappointedly. " But stay — who are these two coming towards us ?" " Fugitives like ourselves, I fancy," said Maurice. " Our staying has frightened their pursuers. Let us see wbo they be." " Why, Oney Na Coppul, I declare," cried O'Byrne in surprise as they drew rein and trotted easily up , " and — and — Roger Leix. " Myself, faix, sure enough," said the former, in easy goodbumour, " in a day like this wan does not mind the kind of a road he travels. An' its a time wh n a poor fellow is glad of company. 0 " Ob, Roger," eaid Hugh, unheeding Oney's careless badinage which fell unpleasantly on his ears, " this has been an evil day for the cause." " It has been a woeful day, no doubt," replied O, Moore, slowly , " but there are ups and downs in warfare, and another day may rchturc ub what we lost.

" Yet yon were so confident, Bory." " My dear Hugh, with an evening advancing on vs — was that a time to bear a doubting heart ? But 1 tell you what, Hugh, there Abas been treachery somewhere. I dread these Pale Lor.is ; they are neither true nor hones'. Think of them appointing ' Mount garret, a doting old fool, to the chief command. An uncle of Ormmd's, too. The lives lost in the pass of Mageney, to-day, and the hills of Kilrush, are on their bandß." " Tour fault, Borv, if you will excuse me for saying so. I never liked that alliance of Knockcrofty," Baid O'Byrne, slowly." "It were well enough with honest m^n, but everything fails before treachery and disbo >esty. Jhese Catholic Lords of the Pale are honeycombed with falsehood and timidity." •• It is an evil endino for such a bright and hopeful commencement," remarked the Wicklow cbief, gloomily.' 1 " Don't speak of eodiDg. It has not well commenced yet," replied O'Moore. hopefully. " Out of this disaster Ireland will arise with fresh energy and bolder spirit. Bse she would not be the Ireland I hope and believe her to be. Mark me, we are only at the beginning of it." B b 11 What do you propose ? Have you any project for retrieving thedisss'er ?" " One, only one — bat it is enough. Owen O'Neale must come over— come over at once, mind you, and take the command. And, by the way, Colonel O'Connor, was not that mission entrusted to you?" "It would be too long to tell why it was not carried out," said Maurice, who had been ridiasr beside and silently listening. " But it shall be soon. lam weary of this ill-fated land— weary of seeing gallant lives 108t — of seeing men brave and valiant, but undisciplined, led again trained troops, led to hopeless slaughter." *■ Maurice has all a martinet's belief in the power of discipline and drill," observed O'Moore, with a touch of sarcasm. " Bold hearts, high spirit, and gallant patriotism go for little with him." " I confess I share his beliefs a good deal," said O'Byrne. " But this is useless talk. Let us think over what can be done." As they rode along rapidly to overtake the body of horsemen retreating in advance, they discussed the steps that should be taken. Finally, they agreed upon this. Maurice should sail at once for Spain. He should urge O'Neale's coming at once. The interests of Ireland tbat someone hand, and that a strong one, should take up and bind together the scattered and diverse interests of the Irish chiefs. And who io fitting for this as the gallant officer who so splendidly represented on the Continent the great and w, rlike house of Olster ? He should also invoke the Court of Spain for supplies, not of men, but of arms, ammunition, and guns. He should also apply to the Pope. With hopes and suggestions such as these Roger Moore beguiled the way, until their hearts rose again and their spirits grew bright nnder the influence of his high and hopeful courage. When they emerged from the bug and passed some miles towards fee mountains in the dis ance, and as the bhadows of night began to darken around the retreating and beaten force , O'Moore left them and turned his horse's h^ad in the direc ion of Dublin ou his way to his own home near the Boyne." " By the way, Hagh," sai i he, coming back after he had ridden some distance, '' lhave information that may interest you, though I forgi.t it in the pressure of more disastrous news — Lady Ellen Maguire iB married." " Married I" cried O'Byrne, with a start. "Aye, indeed. Better you should hear the news now than at another time. One pain neutralises another." "To whom, Boger?" asked thechi-t in a halting whisper. "Baymond Mordaunt. Father Tully had induced her to leave Dublin, ai,d retire to her estates. Unfortunately, Mordaunt, wno had been in danger of being captured by the troons returning from Drogbeda, and had made a wide detour to escape " " I remember," interposed Maurice, whilst O'Byrne remained Bilent. "To escape, came up with her carriage by pure accident. Sha was going away in anger with him, for some faucied neglect. A reconciliation was effected. Romance, distress, peril, manhood, heroism, and all that was on his side — aod blind, infatuated love on hers. They were married, Hugh ; married in Dublin, with her friends and kinsmen in arms or in prison, for religion and country, in a Protestiint Church, and uuless 1 am mistaken, she has abandoned her ancient creed as well as her ancient name. So much for woman's faith and truth. Hugh I " He turned his horse's head northwards once more and disappeared in the gathering dusk. O'Byrue rode forward, sunk in sileDce. It was long before he lifted his bead to speak, but when he did, it was evident be had conquered the pain ot heart the news occasioned him. If there were aching wouudß of unieturned love m his brtast, he cloEed them up, and spoke not of them. *Rom him Maurice learned of the relationship that existed between the Ooun<iughi heuess and Fiauk Tully. They had been foster brother and kUitr, and were, it was believed, attached to one another in parly HtV by more thau vaaA bon is ( f aff etion. Circumstaucts had parted them. Whilst, yet, wnh the glowing dreams of boybood around him, Tuliy wen', as many of the lush youth then did, to the Continent, and had there renounced the worli and embraced a religious life. Full of rehgijus fervour, full of patriotic zeal, combining at once the highest culture with the must intense faith and love of l<md bordering almost on recklessness, tie had come across to st.r up th« zeal of the Irish pe>ple for liberty and for Holy Church. He bad— to his honor and mortification—early learned of the bent of Ellen Magum'a feeliLgs, ami haa laooure to turn thtm into another current. He knew well that hrr affection for her Puritan lover would lead her eventually away fiom the Cnurch. Perhaps from over-zeal, perhaps because her love or infatuation was unconquerable, the steps he took failed in their object aud only aided tbat which they were meant to prevent. (To be Concluded.)