lady sixty-eight years old;
her son Fergus, who was, when Cromwell devastated the land, a child of
five years; his wife Katherine, daughter of Lawrence McCarthy, a large
landowner near Cork; and their two sons, Walter, a lad of sixteen, and
Godfrey, twelve years old.

Two miles west of the castle stood a square-built stone house, surrounded
by solidly-constructed barns and outbuildings. This was the abode of old
Zephaniah Whitefoot, the man upon whom had been bestowed the broad lands
of Walter Davenant. Zephaniah had fought stoutly, as lieutenant in one of
Cromwell's regiments of horse, and had always considered himself an
ill-treated man, because, although he had obtained all the most fertile
portion of the Davenant estate, the old family were permitted to retain
the castle, and a few hundred acres by the sea.

He was one of those who contended that the Amalekites should be utterly
destroyed by the sword, and he considered that the retention of the
corner of their domains, by the Davenants, was a direct flying in the
face of the providence who had given them into the hands of the faithful.
Not that, had he obtained possession of the ruined castle, Zephaniah
Whitefoot would have repaired it or set up his abode there. The followers
of Cromwell had no eyes for the beautiful. They were too much in earnest
to care aught for the amenities of life, and despised, as almost sinful,
anything approximating to beauty, either in dress, person, or
surroundings. The houses that they reared, in this land of which they had
taken possession, were bare to the point of ugliness, and their interior
was as cold and hard as was the exterior. Everything was for use, nothing
for ornament. Scarce a flower was to be seen in their gardens, and
laughter was a sign of levity, to be sternly repressed.

Their isolation, in the midst of a hostile population, caused them no
concern whatever. They cared for no society or companionship, save that
of their own households, which they ruled with a rod of iron; and an
occasional gathering, for religious purposes, with the other settlers of
their own faith. They regarded the Irish as Papists, doomed to
everlasting perdition, and indeed consigned to that fate all outside
their own narrow sect. Such a people could no more mix with the
surrounding population than oil with water. As a rule, they tilled as
much ground in the immediate vicinity of their houses as they and their
families could manage, and the res