“Ah! you jade,” replied Tom, “didn’t I see the wink between you to-night, although you thought I was drunk?  Ah, these wild-goose chases!”

“Tom, dear, we are both innocent.  Oh, forgive your own Grizaey!”

“So I do, you jade—­my curse on you both.”

Whether it was the effort necessary to speak, in addition to the excitement occasioned by his suspicions, and whether these suspicions were well founded or not, we do not presume to say; but the fact was, that, after another outgulp of blood had come up, he drew a long, deep sigh, his under-jaw fell, and the wretched, half-penitent Captain Smellpriest breathed his last.  After which his wife, whether from sorrow or remorse, became insensible, and remained in that state for a considerable time; but at length she recovered, and, after expressing the most violent sorrow, literally drove the Rev. Mr. Strong out of the house, with many deep and bitter curses.  But to return: 

In a few minutes the parties dispersed, and Folliard, too much absorbed in the fates of Reilly and Whitecraft, prepared to ride to Sligo, to ascertain if any thing could be done for the baronet.  In the meantime, while he and his old friend Cummiskey are on their way to see that gentleman, we will ask the attention of our readers to the state of Helen’s mind, as it was affected by the distressing events which had so rapidly and recently occurred.  We need not assure them that deep anxiety for the fate of her unfortunate lover lay upon her heart like gloom of death itself.  His image and his natural nobility of character, but, above all, the purity and delicacy of his love for herself his manly and faithful attachment to his religion, under temptations which few hearts could resist—­temptations of which she herself was, beyond all comparison, the most trying and the most difficult to be withstood; his refusal to leave the country on her account, even when the bloodhounds of the law were pursuing him to his death in every direction; and the reflection that this resolution of abiding by her, and watching over her welfare and happiness, and guarding her, as far as he could, from domestic persecution—­all these reflections, in short, crowded upon her mind with such fearful force that her reason began to totter, and she felt apprehensive that she might not be able to bear the trial which Reilly’s position now placed before her in the most hideous colors.  On the other hand, there was Whitecraft, a man certainly who had committed many crimes and murders and burnings, often, but not always, upon his own responsibility; a man who, she knew, entertained no manly or tender affection for her; he too about to meet a violent death!  That she detested him with an abhorrence as deep as ever woman entertained against man was true; yet she was a woman, and this unhappy fate that impended over him was not excluded out of the code of her heart’s humanity.  She wished him also to be saved, if only that he might withdraw from Ireland and repent of his crimes.  Altogether she was in a state bordering on frenzy and despair, and was often incapable of continuing a sustained conversation.