rd face was shrunk and collapsed; the individual
features sharp and thin, but earnest and stamped with traces of alarm;
his brows, too, which were slightly knit, gave to his whole countenance
a character of keen and painful determination. But that which struck
those who were present, most, was the unyielding grasp with which he
clung even in his insensibility to the person of Connor.

If not an affecting sight, it was one at least strongly indicative of
the intractable and indurated attachment which put itself forth with
such vague and illusive energy on behalf of his son. At length he
recovered, and on opening his eyes he fixed them with a long look of
pain and distraction upon the boy's countenance.

"Father," said Connor, "don't be cast down--you need not--and you ought
not to be so much disheartened--do you feel better?"

When the father heard his voice he smiled; yes--his shrunk, pale,
withered face was lit up by a wild, indescribable ecstasy, whose
startling expression waa borrowed, one would think, as much from the
light of insanity as from that of returning consciousness. He sucked in
his thin cheeks, smacked his parched, skinny lips, and with difficulty
called for drink. Having swallowed a little water, he looked round him
with more composure, and inquired--

"What has happened me? am I robbed? are you robbers? But I tell you
there's no money in the house. I lodged the last penny yesterday--afore
my God I did--but--oh, what am I sayin'? what is this, Connor?"

"Father dear, compose yourself--we'll get over this throuble."

"We will, darlin'," said Honor, wiping the pale brows of her husband;
"an' we won't lose him."

"No, achora," said the old man; "no, we won't lose him! Connor?"

"Well, father dear!"

"There's a thing here--here"--and he placed his hand upon his
heart--"something it is that makes me afeard--a sinkin'--a weight--and
there's a strugglin', too, Connor. I know I can't stand it long--an'
it's about you--it's all about you."

"You distress yourself too much, father; indeed you do. Why, I hoped
that you would comfort my poor mother till I come back to her and you,
as I will, plase God."

"Yes," he replied; "yes, I will, I will."

"You had better prepare," said one of the officers; "the sooner this is
over the better--he's a feeble man and not very well able to bear it."

"You are right," said Connor; "I won't delay many minutes; I have only
to change my clothes, an' I am ready."

In