"I thought she had gone over to France."

"So did I; but now she has told me all about it. Father M'Dermot[1] and
her mother brought her down to the coast near here to embark in a
smuggling boat for Dieppe. When the boat pulled in-shore in the night to
take them in, the mother and the rascally priest got in, but she felt as
if it was leaving the whole world to leave the country I was in, and she
held back. The officers came down, one or two pistols were fired, and
the boat shoved off without her, and she, with their luggage, was left
on the beach. She went back to the next town with the officers, where
she told the truth of the story, and they let her go. In Father
M'Dermot's luggage she found letters, which she read, and found out that
she and her mother were to have been placed in a convent at Dieppe; and,
as the convent was named in the letters,--which she says are very
important, but I have not had courage to read them yet,--she went to
the people from whose house they had embarked, requesting them to
forward the luggage and a letter to her mother--sending everything but
the letters, which she reserved for me. She has since received a letter
from her mother, telling her that she is safe and well in the convent,
and begging her to come over to her as soon as possible. The mother took
the vows a week after she arrived there, so we know where to find her,
Peter."

"And where is the poor girl going to stay now, O'Brien?"

"That's all the worst part of it. It appears that she hoped not to be
found out till after we had sailed, and then to have, as she said, poor
thing! to have laid at my feet and watched over me in the storms; but I
pointed out to her that it was not permitted, and that I would not be
allowed to marry her. O Peter! this is a very sad business," continued
O'Brien, passing his hand across his eyes.

"Well, but, O'Brien, what is to become of the poor girl?"

"She is going home to be with my father and mother, hoping one day that
I shall come back and marry her. I have written to Father M'Grath, to
see what he can do."

"Have you then not undeceived her?"

"Father M'Grath must do that, I could not. It would have been the death
of her. It would have stabbed her to the heart, and it's not for me to
give that blow. I'd sooner have died--sooner have married her, than have
done it, Peter. Perhaps when I'm far away she'll bear it better. Father
M'Grath will manage it."

"O'Brien, I don't like that Fat