from it, and immediately too. I wish to see you. Come this night, at
half-past ten, to the back gate of our garden, which you will find shut,
but unlocked. Something--is it my heart?--tells me that our fates are
henceforth inseparable, whether for joy or sorrow. I ought to tell you
that I confessed my affection for you to papa on the evening you dined
here, and he was not angry; but this morning he insisted that I should
never think of you more, nor mention your name; and he says that if the
laws can do it he will lose ten thousand pounds or he will have you
sent out of the country. Lanigan, our cook, from what motive I know
not, mentioned to me the substance of what I have now written. He is, it
seems, a cousin to the bearer of this, and got the information from him
after having had much difficulty, he says, in putting it together.
I know not how it is, but I can assure you that every servant in the
castle seems to know that I am attached to you.

"Ever, my dearest Reilly, yours, and yours only, until death,

"Helen Folliard."


We need not attempt to describe the sensations of love and indignation
produced by this letter. But we shall state the facts.

"Here, Tom," said Reilly, "is the reward for your fidelity," as he
handed him some silver; "and mark me, Tom, don't breathe to a human
being that you have brought me a letter from the _Cooleen Bawn_. Go into
the house and get something to eat; there now--go and get one of your
bully dinners."

"It is true," said he, "too true I am doomed-devoted. If I remain in