a short time he made his appearance dressed in his best suit; and,
indeed, it would be extremely difficult to meet, in any rank of life, a
finer specimen of vigor, activity, and manly beauty. His countenance,
at all times sedate and open, was on this occasion shaded by an air of
profound melancholy that gave a composed grace and dignity to his whole
bearing.

"Now, father," said he, "before I go, I think it right to lave you and
my poor mother all the consolation I can. In the presence of God, in
yours, in my dear mother's, and in the presence of all who hear me, I
am as innocent of the crime that's laid to my charge as the babe unborn.
That's a comfort for you to know, and let it prevent you from frettin';
and now, good by; God be with you, and strengthen, and support you
both!"

Fardorougha had already seized his hand; but the old man could neither
speak nor weep; his whole frame appeared to have been suddenly pervaded
by a dry agony that suspended the beatings of his very heart. The
mother's grief, on the contrary, was loud, and piercing, and vehement.
She threw herself once more upon his neck; she kissed his lips, she
pressed him to her heart, and poured out as before the wail of a wild
and hopeless misery. At length, by the aid of some slight but necessary
force, her arms were untwined from about his neck; and Connor then,
stooping, embraced his father, and, gently placing him on a settle--bed,
bade him farewell! On reaching the door he paused, and, turning about,
surveyed his mother struggling in the hands of one of the officers
to get embracing him again, and his gray--haired father sitting in
speechless misery on the settle. He stood a moment to look upon them,
and a few bitter tears rolled, in the silence of manly sorrow, down his
cheeks.

"Oh, Fardorougha!" exclaimed his mother, after they had gone, "sure it
isn't merely for partin' wid him that we feel so heart--broken. He may
never stand under this roof again, an' he all we have and had to love!"

"No," returned Fardorougha, quietly; "no, it's not, as you say, for
merely partin' wid him--hanged! God! God! Mm--here--Honor--here,
the thought of it--I'll die--it'll break! Oh, God support me! my
heart--here--my heart'll break! My brain, too, and my head--oh! if God
'ud take me before I'd see it! But it can't be--it's not possible that
our innocent boy should meet sich a death!"

"No, dear, it is not; sure he's innocent--that's one comfort; but,
Fardorough