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men in such a cause." Mr. Herriott was peaceably inclined and only agreed to go to the beach with the soldiers because he thought it likely he might act as a mediator between the parties. Well do I remember the breathless anxiety with which I watched for his passing through the great entrance-hall—it was useless; he did not come out until near midnight, and then he was surrounded by gentlemen, who all spoke in an under tone; at last, with a palpitating heart, I heard the old butler ordered to bring the long double-barrelled gun. The company departed, and I seated myself in the nursery window, which overlooked the beautiful plantations, and the distant sea, that was tranquilly reposing in the beams of the full moon.
Slowly and stealthily did the party proceed to the shore; and they stole in silence, and in safety, upon the unfortunate smugglers, who were, at the time, landing their cargo at the entrance to the Otter's-Hole. A few peasants were waiting, with empty cars, to convey away their purchases; and the gang was, evidently, unprepared for the attack; neither party, however, wanted courage; and they fought man to man, with desperate resolution. Loffont was foremost in the fray; youth, age, and manhood alike, felt the overpowering force of his muscular arm, or the unerring ball of his pistol. Silently and darkly did he fight, more like a destroying spirit than a mortal man. At length, in the midst of a combat that had given him more than usual trouble, for he had engaged with a bold and daring antagonist, he was arrested by a harsh, growling voice, like the deep but murmured anger of an African lion; and his arm was grasped by long bony fingers, that seemed the outcasts of the grave. "And ye're here, you, who crushed my brave—my eldest boy;—who seduced, from her innocent home, my Kathleen-my daughter my dear, dear, girl, the stamp of her dead mother;—you, who drove us to wandering and want; stand back, James; drop ye'r hoult of my only living child, ye hell fiend," continued the agonized old man, as he shook the huge frame of Loffont, even as a willow-wand; "once before, when my boy was murdered, I struggled with ye for his life, and long it was; but ye cast me from ye as an ould tree, but now," his eyes glared fearfully upon his victim, and, for a moment, smugglers and soldiers remained silent, and motionless. Loffont trembled in every limb; he felt as if his hour were come, and turning from the shrimp-gatherer, he said, "pass on, John Doherty, enough of the blood of ye'r house is already on my head." The old man, for a moment, replied not; but then exclaimed, "Revenge for my children!" Long and desperate was the struggle,—hand to hand, foot to foot,—until, as they neared the over- hanging edge of the precipitous cliff, the shrimp- gatherer grappled the throat of his adversary; one step more; and both went crashing against the pointed rocks, until the deep, heavy splash in the ocean announced that the contest was over.
Instant relief was afforded, and they were both dragged out of the water, still clasped, as in the death-struggle. Loffont—his harsh and demon-like features blackened and swollen by suffocation-was indeed a corpse; and, although Doherty was living, and in full possession of his faculties, it was evident his spirit was on the wing. Still did he grasp his antagonist's throat; and, even when besought by Mr. Herriott to relax his hold, he raised himself slowly on his elbow, and turned a steady gaze upon the features of one he had hated even unto death. His son knelt by his side—his heart full, almost to bursting, with agonized feeling.—In the meantime the contest between the people and the soldiery and police was renewed, and every inch of cliff was vigorously disputed.
"James," said the dying man, as his glazed eye followed the bloody contest, upon which the full moon cast her bright and tranquil beams;— "James—the boat—they'll be beaten off—but the boat—gain the ship. I do not blame the young lady (he continued, looking at Mr. Herriott), she tould me what she knew; nor am I sorry—to say sorry—for my murdered children now can rest in their graves-their murderer is punished."
"Jack," interrupted Mr. Herriott, "for God's sake think of the few moments you have to live —think of where you are going."
"Ay, Sir, if God would spare me to make my soul, now I might think and pray to him—but before—could I think of any but thim, who are in heaven? Now God-God have mercy on a poor sinful man!"—his hands were clenched in prayer—when a loud shout from the peasantry, which was repeated by a thousand echoes along the rocky shore, announced that they had beaten their opponents fairly off; the old man started—waved his hands wildly over his head, as in triumph—fell back-and expired on his son's bosom.
The smugglers escaped to the vessel, and the youth bore off to it the dead body of his father. Mr. Herriott was perfectly safe amid the lawless gang, for he was never known to commit an unjust, an unkind, or even an immoderate action. The ship's crew and the peasantry disappeared as if by magic, carrying with them as much of the brandy and tobacco as had been landed, for they knew that the police would shortly return with a reinforcement; and in one or two moments Mr. Herriott found himself alone, with the corpse of Loffont, on the wild sea-shore; not quite alone, I should say; the dog of the shrimp-gatherer, poor Crab, came smelling to the strand where his master's body had lain, raised his little voice in weak and pitiful howlings to the receding barque, and finally laid himself down at the feet of the watchful Neptune, who had never desert- ed his master's side. From that hour the noble animal became the protector of the low-born cur; and never suffered his humble friend to receive either insult or injury.
The body of the wretched man, who had met with so shocking a death, was conveyed to our house—it was buried-but few attended the funeral, which in Ireland is always a mark of dis-