d
to the mansion-house of Carrickleigh, taking with him a party of his
men. But the villains had discovered their mistake, and had effected
their escape before the arrival of the military.

The Frenchwoman was, however, arrested in the neighbourhood upon the
next day. She was tried and condemned upon the ensuing assizes; and
previous to her execution, confessed that 'SHE HAD A HAND IN MAKING HUGH
TISDAL'S BED.' She had been a housekeeper in the castle at the time, and
a kind of chere amie of my uncle's. She was, in reality, able to speak
English like a native, but had exclusively used the French language, I
suppose to facilitate her disguise. She died the same hardened wretch
which she had lived, confessing her crimes only, as she alleged, that
her doing so might involve Sir Arthur T----n, the great author of
her guilt and misery, and whom she now regarded with unmitigated
detestation.

With the particulars of Sir Arthur's and his son's escape, as far as
they are known, you are acquainted. You are also in possession of their
after fate--the terrible, the tremendous retribution which, after long
delays of many years, finally overtook and crushed them. Wonderful and
inscrutable are the dealings of God with His creatures.

Deep and fervent as must always be my gratitude to heaven for my
deliverance, effected by a chain of providential occurrences, the
failing of a single link of which must have ensured my destruction, I
was long before I could look back upon it with other feelings than those
of bitterness, almost of agony.

The only being that had ever really loved me, my nearest and dearest
friend, ever ready to sympathise, to counsel, and to assist--the gayest,
the gentlest, the warmest heart--the only creature on earth that cared
for me--HER life had been the price of my deliverance; and I then
uttered the wish, which no event of my long and sorrowful life has
taught me to recall, that she had been spared, and that, in her stead,
_I_ were mouldering in the grave, forgotten and at rest.

THE BRIDAL OF CARRIGVARAH.

Being a Sixth Extract from the Legacy of the late Francis Purcell, P. P.
of Drumcoolagh.

In a sequestered district of the county of Limerick, there stood my
early life, some forty years ago, one of those strong stone buildings,
half castle, half farm-house, which are not unfrequent in the South of
Ireland, and whose solid masonry and massive construction seem to prove
at once the insecurity a