om, and thoughts gloomy and dark as the dreary morning
crowded on his brain.

As he remained thus deep sunk in sad musings, the grey dawn broke over
the sea, and gradually a pinkish hue stained the sky eastward. The
rain, which up to this time drifted in heavy masses, ceased to fall; and
instead of the gusty storm, blowing in fitful blasts, a gentle breese
rolled the mists along the valleys, as if taking away the drapery of
Night at the call of Morning. At first the mountain peaks appeared
through the dense clouds; and then, by degrees, their steep sides,
begirt with rock, and fissured with many a torrent. At length the deep
valleys and glens began to open to the eye, and the rude cabins of the
peasants, marked out by the thin blue wreath of smoke that rose into the
air, ere it was scattered by the fresh breeze of morning. Over the sea
the sunlight glittered, tipping the glad waves that danced and sported
towards the shore, and making the white foam upon the breakers look
fairer than snow itself. Mark looked upon the scene thus suddenly
changed, and shaking his brother's arm, he called out--

"Awake, Herbert! see what a glorious day is breaking. Look, that is
Sugarloaf, piercing the white cloud; and yonder is Castletown. See how
the shore is marked out in every jutting point and cliff. I can see the
Kenmare river as it opens to the sea."

"It is indeed beautiful," exclaimed Herbert, all fatigue forgotten in
the ecstasy of the moment. "Is not that Garran Thual, Mark, that rears
its head above the others?"

But Mark's eyes were turned in a different direction, and he paid no
attention to the question.

"Yes," cried Herbert, still gazing intently towards, the land, "and that
must be Mangerton. Am I right, Mark?"

"What can that mean?" said Mark, seizing Herbert's arm, and pointing to
a distant point across Bantry Bay. "There, you saw it then."

"Yes, a bright flash of flame. See, it burns steadily now." "Ay, and
there's another below Beerhaven, and another yonder at the Smuggler's
Rock."

And while he was yet speaking, the three fires blazed out, and continued
to burn brilliantly in the grey light of the morning. The dark mist that
moved over the sea gave way before the strong breeze, and the tall spars
of a large ship were seen as a vessel rounded the point, and held on her
course up Bantry Bay. Even at the distance Mark's experienced eye could
detect that she was a ship of war--her ports, on which the sun threw