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you know I do, that we could live together—and why may we not ? Only give up that dreadsul trade of piracy, and I will never part from you, but by your own wish and consent.” “Conditions—conditions, Jenny" said the Pirate, with an air of dignified reproach. “You must not forget I have an authority wherewith to command, as well as an affection with which to entreat. Tell me, if I have ever been rough to you, if I have ever given you cause to complain of ill-usage 7” “Never,” she answered; “you were always kind to me.” During this meeting, which was at once affecting and painful, no one but themselves had been in the kitchen. But, as steps were presently heard approaching, Jane hastily drew her arm from her father's neck, and arose from his knee. “Not a word Jenny, to any one, of who I am, or J am destroyed,” he whispered in her ear; and Jane, reluctantly resorting to artifice, pretended to be engaged in examining the cakes on the hearth. The feint succeeded. Deborah, who entered, had no suspicion that in the mariner, Jane had found the individual from whom she had derived existence. “If you plase, Miss Anderson, his honour the Pastor, and Mr. Arthur, wish that you would come to the breakfast,” said Deborah. Jane accordingly went, and joined the breakfast party, and a mournful party it was Arthur moticed her peculiar tremour as she placed herself in the seat which had been Lucy’s, in order to make, and pour the tea. Naturally attributing it to the agitating ceremony in which

she had been engaged, and to regret for Lucy, he spoke to her with tenderness, and took the cup which was shaking in her hand from her, replacing it upon the tray. Presently she rallied, and performed her office with tolerable composure, while he relapsed into the allengrossing sorrow, which, at times, wrapped him in a sort of insensibility.

The Pastor said nothing until the conclusion of the repast, but it was too evident that he was suffering intensely the whole of the time, for the tears were momently falling fast and large from his eyes, and he sighed continually.

When the table was cleared, he went through the family morning devotions with difficulty, and frequently he was compelled to stop to wipe away, with his shaking hand, the superabundant moisture which impeded his sight.


“A man should never be ashamed to own he has been in the wrong, which is but saying in other words, that he is wiser to-day than he was yesterday.”

“Now,” said Clinton inwardly, in the evening, as he folded a letter on the kitchen table, and addressed it to Mr. Lee, “it is done; and the twelfth hour from this may see me senseless as a clod of the valley. Deborah, be so good as put that into Mr. Lee's hand, and let no other person see it or look at it.” “Is it I that would show it to any other person?” said Deborah; “I wonder who I’d show it to ? Sure and I can carry a litter to its right owner, and make no mistake.” She flung her head a little as she spoke, and Clinton, who was not fully aware of the curiously twisted notions of right and wrong which some of the Irish people are gifted with, said to her, conciliatingly— “Pray be not offended, Debby. I assure you I had no intention of wounding your feelings. The letter is very important, and very private, or I should not on any account have said the words which have sounded so unpleasantly to you.” “ Unplisintly Och, then, you say the truth, Mr.

Clinton. Unplisint they were, and very unplisint too !” But as soon as Deborah had left the kitchen, she went to her chamber, and shut the door, standing with her back against it, and holding the letter end-wise against the light of the candle, peeping through it in order to make out, if she could, its contents. These, at first, baffled her curious eye, but presently she managed to get a sight of them, by pulling out one of the endfolds. “It is jist as I thought, at any rate,” said she “it’s a challenge to fight at half past three o'clock in the morning. Mr Lee is to mate him beyond the cornfields, and there they will murther one another for nothing at-all-atall, if I don’t prevint; but by all the saints of Ireland, St. Pathrick included, I will prevint it, or may I never knale down to a catholic priest agin.” The loosened sold was carefully tucked in. The letter was examined with accuracy, and pronounced all in “ dacent order,” and in a few minutes after, Mr Lee received it from Deborah’s hands. Next, she went to the Pastor and addressed him as he was looking out of a window toward the spot where his granddaughter lay. “May it plase your honour,” said she, and there stopped. “Well Deborah,” said he, drawing in his head, and shutting down the sash, “what have you to say to me?” “Only, yer honour, that Mr. Clinton is intinding to mate Mr. Lee early to morrow morning, to fight him with pistols and swords; and I could not in conscience kape myself back from tilling you of it. They’re going to mate beyond the cornfields at half past three o'clock on the Monday morning.

“I hope not—I hope not,” said the Pastor, hurriedly; “my grandson I hope would not so forget the principles I have taught him. I feel confident he would not dare to throw away his life, or the life of Mr. Clinton in a duel, knowing that there is a judgment to come. You must be mistaken Deborah.” “If yer honour will belave me, I have jist carried the challenge in a litter to Mr. Arthur myself. I should have brought it to you right away, but I gave my word to Mr. Clinton that no other person but Mr. Lee should see it, or look at it—barring mysilf. And if I broke the word I gave, sure I’d have to penance mysilf for the sin . But I took a peep at the litter mysilf, and saw the maning of it, and that is the maning which I have tould you, yer honour.” . “You make very nice distinctions, Debby,” said the Pastor; “you seem to think, then, that you have not broken your word to the writer of the letter, although you have read it, and informed me of the contents.” “To be sure I have not, yer honour,” said Deborah; “I only promised to let no other person look at it or rade it.” “Well, I cannot stay to argue the point with you now, Debby,” said the Pastor; “I must go to my grandson and learn how far this statement of yours is

correct.” Arthur was writing in a chamber, when the Pastor en

tered to him. “Arthur,” said the latter, “is it true that you have received a challenge from Mr. Clinton, to fight him with

swords and pistols o' “With swords or pistols, my dear grandfather,” re

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