Cologne, the fine old city of Bruges, and Brussels, in which places he suffered most, his adherents were always discontented when they were not well fed."

After breakfast William O'Shaughnessy bade the officers farewell, and, having embraced his uncle, himself and Dermot Oge started off at a quick pace. In a few hours they arrived at Denis O'Dea's house, and alighted to feed their horses. On entering, they found Doctor O'Fynn sitting by the fire, reading a book. He laid the volume aside, and, shaking Dermot Oge by the hand, said

"I was poring over the pages of Polybius. I suppose this intelligentlooking youth who accompanies you has read that learned work ?"

"Yes," said William, "I have read the first five books, and have also seen an edition in Latin.”

"This young gentleman," said Dermot Oge, "is O'Shaughnessy's heir."

"I am rejoiced to see him," replied Doctor O'Fynn; and, addressing William, he continued, "Sir, I humbly request the honour of shaking hands with you. I once spent some pleasant days at Shanaglish, with a learned confrere there, and was often hospitably received at Gortinsiguara and Clooneene. I hope, sir, your father, and my venerated friend Captain Forster, are well. I intend, if it should so please Providence, doing myself the favour of again soon visiting them. When last at Shanaglish my cruel enemies, having by some stratagem obtained information of my whereabouts, were on the qui rire to arrest the Popish usher,' which inappropriate cognomen they were pleased to bestow on your humble servant: so that I was seldom, if ever, permitted to remain more than one night in any certain house. However, sir, the virtue of the people is such that, notwithstanding the large rewards repeatedly offered for my apprehension by those true successors of the Goths and Vandals, I was never betrayed. But you know vilius argentum est auro virtutibus aurum."

The horses being fed, Dermot Oge and William O'Shaughnessy bade Doctor O'Fynn and O'Dea good-bye, and then proceeded to Ennis. At a late hour that night they reached Gortinsiguara, and early next morning William O'Shaughnessy embraced his parents in the halls of his ancestors.

CHAPTER X.

MARCH OF THE YELLOW DRAGOONS.

Ar an early hour next day all were astir at Clooneene. It was a beautiful, clear morning, and the sun, as it gradually ascended, reflected the armorial bearings of the stained-glass window on the walls and floor of the breakfast parlour, lending to the room an air of quaintness that at once awoke in the mind of the meditative beholder reminiscences of heroes whose names adorn the pages of Irish history.

The Chief of Clooneene, after breakfast, taking his walking-cane in his hand, and accompanied by his grandson John, and the Chevalier de Tourville, went to visit the elder Donal Bran. While passing by the offices he saw Nicholas Power dismounting from his horse, who apologised for not having called on him sooner.

"My father," said the dragoon, "wished me to stay as long as pos

sible with him."

“And, like a good son, you obeyed," replied the Chieftain. “I hope your horse was well cared while you were at Park-na-attinagh."

"You have only to look at him, sir, to see that he was," said Power. "I would consider myself neglectful of my duty as a soldier if I did not look after the comforts of my good charger."

The Chief directed him to leave his horse in one of the stables, and take up his quarters in the retainers' hall until the young Captain would have returned to Clooneene, and then walked on to Donal Bran's house at Ballinascagh, which was a well-thatched, comfortable dwelling.

On entering he found the old man seated, in an arm chair made of plaited straw, beside the large fireplace. His aged wife sat opposite him, while Nora, their daughter-in-law, was tidily arranging various household articles on the "dresser," and the industrious young Donal, her husband, attentively engaged repairing a saddle.

On the entrance of the Chieftain and the gentlemen who accompanied him, he laid aside his work, and placed some chairs before the fire for them, saying he felt highly honoured by their visit.

Turning to old Donal, the Chieftain kindly inquired after his health. "Indeed," said the invalid, "I am happy to say I feel much better; but there was a time when rumours of war such as are at present in circulation would have inspired me to take up arms in defence of my country, but now I am old and feeble.. I was not so when I served under

you; and I remember well you were then a brave, athletic young gentleman, and took good care of me. In return, all I can do now is to permit my son to join your grandson's regiment—that is, provided the young Captain accepts of him."

"I hope, Donal," said the generous Chieftain, "that you do not want for anything."

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Many thanks, my noble Chief," returned Donal; "the two cows I have supply us with plenty of milk and butter, the 'coramore' is filled with meal, and wine is not wanting from your cellars to nourish me; so, you see, I have all I can desire.

"Nora," the veteran continued, "bring some cups; our Chief, surely, will not leave my house until he tastes some of his own good wine."

Rather than displease Donal, who had served him so faithfully through life, he accepted the proffered cup, and then departed with the others, bearing with him the kind wishes of the whole family. They had not proceeded far when they were overtaken by young Donal. He was of stalworth mould, and very active, having jet black hair and piercing grey eyes. His movements were agile, and few, if any, in the neighbourhood could outstrip him on foot. As a marksman he was considered among the best in the county, and even Kelly of Loughcutra declared he was the best shot he ever knew. To his other accomplishments was added music, as he was a first-class performer on the violin and bagpipes.

"Well, Donal," said the Chief, "do you require anything from

me ?"

Only the loan of a gun, sir, to keep my hand in practice shooting hares at Cahirbroder."

"That you must have; and when I get a supply of arms from this gentleman," meaning the Chevalier de Tourville, "I expect you will make yourself useful in drilling the boys of Ballinascagh."

When they arrived at the mansion, John proposed that De Tourville and De Merville should ride with him to see Clonuane, Martin D'Arcy's residence. After a short time they reached the gate, and before them laythe ruins of the castle. De Tourville suggested riding on to view it.

The western side of the old pile was levelled to the ground, while the eastern portion was still perfect, and stood in lofty grandeur amidst the vast extent of craggy rock and wood by which it was surrounded.

"Who anciently possessed this castle ?" said De Merville.

"A branch of the sept of O'Brien, a tribe of the Dal-Cais, or Dalcassian race, in Thomond," said John. "Mahon O'Brien held it in the bloody reign of Elizabeth. In the year 1569, Sir Henry Sydney, while

on his march from Limerick to Galway, after suppressing the rebellion of the Fitzgeralds, took possession of it. He also took possession of the Castle of Ballyvaughan, in the county of Clare; but O'Brien recovered the Castle of Clonuane again. When the Desmonds rose in arms, the persecution of the Catholics was wanton and inhuman. David Wolf, the Legate of his Holiness Pope Pius IV., and his successors Pius V., and Gregory XIII., who was in Limerick, fled to this solitary castle for safety. He was kindly received by the Chieftain, but the inhabitants of the castle, being at war with their neighbours, plundered all the provision they had in their possession, which the clergyman, discovering, scrupulously refused to eat, and preferred dying of hunger."

"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed De Tourville, "certainly it was an odd resolution, but chacun à son goût. I cannot boast of being such a good historian as you are; but, if I am not mistaken, Pope Pius V. was the illustrious Pontiff whose name is inseparably associated with the glorious naval victory of the Curzolari, or of Lepanto, won by the combined Christian fleet in September, 1571, when the brave sailor Marc Antonio Colonna, commander of the Papal galleys, totally dispersed the Turkish armament, and was honoured with a triumphal entry into Rome—an achievement which recalled to the minds of the exulting citizens and the sainted successor of St. Peter the imperial glories of the Eternal City. But, pray, who was David Wolf ?"

"He was the Apostolic Nuncio, and arrived in this country as such in August, 1560. He was a native of Limerick, and a Jesuit. He styled himself Commissarius, but some writers have called him Pope's Nuncio. After his arrival in this country he resided at Limerick, until the month of March, 1565; but, whatever his proper title may have been, his power extended over all Ireland, ad illustrissimos principes et universum Hiberniæ regnum. In March, 1586, Sir Richard Bingham, the then Governor of Connaught, determined to exterminate Mahon O'Brien, who was a firm Catholic. He collected 100 men and some irregular troops, and with this force besieged the castle for about a week, when he finally ordered a fierce assault. The miners broke down the outer defences, and approached the castle to undermine it, but the garrison defended themselves valiantly, firing from their port-holes, and throwing down missiles from the battlements, where Mahon O'Brien stood with a large stone in his hand, but before he had time to hurl it on the enemy he was shot through the head by one of Bingham's marksmen, and fell dead. Seeing their Chief was no more, the besieged party surrendered themselves prisoners to the cruel Bingham, who allowed them but a short time to exist. He merci

lessly caused them to be hanged on the surrounding trees, plundered all their goods, and levelled half the castle."

"By the Oriflamme," exclaimed De Tourville, warmly, "the unfornate garrison deserved a better fate from the ruffian."

"In the reign of James I.," continued John, "Martin D'Arcy, ancestor of the present proprietor, who is now in Galway, took a lease of the lands about here from the Earl of Thomond. But it is now full time, I think, for us to return."

They arrived just in time for dinner at Clooneene, and found the Chief in his wonted good humour. During the evening they kept O'Donoghue engaged at his harp, and, to promote more hilarity, ordered Donal Bran to be called up with his pipes. Donal played several jigs and reels in good style, and danced a hornpipe so well that he was applauded by the company, and was then handed a tankard of brandy by Shane O'Halloran.

"What an agile and intelligent race the Irish are!" said De Tourville. "No nation in Europe can excel them in feats of activity and strength."

·

"That is a fact," said the Chief; "and Sir William Petty, the Surveyor-General of Ireland in the time of Cromwell, and author of the celebrated Down Survey,' relates that before the commencement of the late war no people could surpass them in 'footmanship,' but after the struggle they appeared to decline in vigour. No wonder their spirits collapsed, oppressed by tyranny and misrule; but now they are fast recovering from their depression."

"There are some Irish lads on board the Flying Eagle," said De Merville, "and I can assure you they are De Tourville's best sailors."

Captain O'Brien now asked Donal if he would accompany him as a guide to the North, who replied that he hoped to be taken in young Captain Forster's troop, and therefore could not make any such pro

mise.

They were all here agreeably surprised by the sudden and unexpected entrance of Major James Forster, of Rathorpe, the High Sheriff of the county, accompanied by Sir Toby Butler, both of whom had just returned from the Galway Assizes.

The High Sheriff was somewhat above the middle height; his countenance was handsome, and his rich brown hair fell in profusion over his broad and well-proportioned shoulders. He wore the usual dress of a person of rank of that period, and had a sword richly inlaid with gold suspended at his side; while a pair of gold spurs ornamented his long