had shown
during any other part of the trial; "my lord, I am now a condemned man,
but if I stood with the rope about my neck, ready to die, I would not
exchange situations with the man that has: been my accuser. My lord,
I can forgive him, and I ought, for I know he has yet to die, and
must meet his God. As for myself, I am thankful that I have not such a
conscience as his to bring before my Judge; and for this reason I am not
afraid to die."

He was then removed amidst a murmur of grief, as deep and sincere as
was ever expressed for a human being under circumstances of a similar
character. After having! entered the prison, he was about to turn along
a passage which led to the apartment hitherto allotted to him.

"This way," said the turnkey, "this way; God knows I would be glad to
let you stop in the room you had, but I haven't the power. We must put
you into one of the condemned cells; but by ---, it'll go hard if I
don't stretch a little to make you as comfortable I as possible.

"Take no trouble," said Connor, "take no trouble. I care now but little
about my own comfort; but if you wish to oblige me, bring me my father.
Oh, my mother, my mother!--you, I doubt, are struck down already!"

"She was too ill to attend the trial to-day," replied the turnkey.

"I know it," said Connor; "but as she's not here, bring me my father.
Send out a messenger for him, and be quick, for I wont rest till I see
him--he wants comfort--the old man's heart will break."

"I heard them say," replied the turnkey, after they had entered the cell
allotted to him, "that he was in a faint at Mat Corrigan's public house,
but that he had recovered. I'll go myself and bring him in to you."

"Do," said Connor, "an' leave us the moment you bring him."

It was more than an hour before the man I returned, holding Fardorougha
by the arm, and, after having left him in the cell, he instantly locked
it outside, and withdrew as he had been desired. Connor ran to support
his tottering steps; and wofully indeed did unfortunate parent stand
in need of his assistance. In the picture presented by Fardorougha the
unhappy young man forgot in a moment his own miserable and gloomy fate.
There blazed in his father's eyes an excitement at once dead and wild--a
vague fire without character, yet stirred by an incomprehensible energy
wholly beyond the usual manifestations of thought or suffering. The son
on beholding him shuddered, and not for the first time, for