the losing side
ever, and my nature is a stubborn one--it has no sympathies save with
those in misfortune; but we can be friends," said she, extending her
hand frankly towards him--"friends firm and true, not the less strong in
regard, because our affections have not overcome our convictions."

"Do not speak so decisively," Miss O'Donoghue, said Travers, as his
lip trembled with strong emotion; "even at this moment how much has
misrepresentation clouded our knowledge of each other; let time, I
entreat of you, dissipate these false impressions, or give me, at least,
the opportunity of becoming more worthy of your esteem."

"While I should become less so," interrupted Kate, rapidly; "no, no;
my duties are here," and she pointed to the old man, who, with an
expression of stupid fatuity, sat with his hands clasped, and his eyes
fixed on vacancy. "Do not not make me less equal to my task, by calling
on me for such a pledge. Besides," added she, with a smile, "you are too
truly English, to suggest a divided allegiance; we are friends; but we
can never be more."

Travers pressed the white hand to his lips without a word, and the
moment after his horse was heard descending the causeway, as with
desperate speed he hurried from the spot so fatal to all his hopes.

Scarcely had Frederick left the castle, when a chaise and four, urged
to the utmost speed, dashed up to the door, and Sir Archy, followed by
Herbert, jumped out. The old man, travel-stained and splashed, held
an open paper in his hand, and cried aloud, as he entered the
drawing-room--

"He's pardoned, he's pardoned--a free pardon to Mark!"

"He's gone, he's away to France," said Kate, as fearing to awaken the
O'Donoghue to any exertion of intelligence, she pointed cautiously
towards him.

"All the better, my sweet lassie," cried M'Nab, folding her in his arms;
"his arm will not be the less bold in battle, because no unforgiven
treason weighs upon his heart. But my brother, what ails him?--he does
not seem to notice me."

"He is ill--my father is ill," said Herbert, with a terrified accent.

"He is worse," whispered M'Nab to himself, as passing his hand within
the waistcoat, he laid it on his heart.

It was so--the courage that withstood every assault of evil
fortune--every calamity which poverty and distress can bring
down--failed at last;--the strong heart was broken--the O'Donoghue was
dead.

*****

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