“Mr. Charles,” said Barney, “is it possible that it is you that is here?”

“I am here, Barney,” he replied, with difficulty, “and, I fear, mortally wounded.”

“God forbid!” replied his humble but faithful friend—­“I hope it is not so bad as you think.”

“Take this handkerchief,” said Charles, “tie it about my breast, and try and stop the blood.  I feel myself getting weak.”

This Barney proceeded to do, in which operation we shall leave him, assisted by the unfortunate girl who was indirectly the means of bringing this dreadful calamity upon him.

Shaivn-na-Middogue. was not out of the reach of hearing when Grace shouted after him, having paused to ascertain, if possible, whether he had done his work effectually.  That Harry Woodward was Grace’s paramour, he knew; and that Charles was innocent of that guilt, he also knew.  All that Caterine Collins had told him on the preceding night went for nothing, because he felt that Woodward had coined those falsehoods with a view to screen himself from his (Shawn’s) vengeance.  But in the meantime Grace’s words, uttered in the extremity of her terror, assured him that there had been some mistake, and that one brother might have come to explain and apologize for the absence of the other.  He consequently crept back within hearing of their conversation, and ascertained with regret the mistake he had committed.  Shawn, at night, seldom went unattended by several of his gang, and on this occasion he was accompanied by about a dozen of them.  His murderous mistake occasioned him to feel deep sorrow, for he was perfectly well acquainted with the amiable and generous character which Charles bore amongst his father’s tenantry.  His life had been, not only inoffensive, but benevolent; whilst that of his brother—­short as was the time since his return to Rathfillan House—­was marked by a very licentious profligacy,—­a profligacy which he attempted in vain to conceal.  Whilst Grace Davoren and Casey were attempting to staunch the blood which issued from the wound, four men, despatched by Shawn for the purpose, came, as if alarmed by Grace’s shrieks, to the scene of the tragedy, and, after having inquired as to the cause of its occurrence, precisely as if they had been ignorant of it, they proposed that the only thing to be done, so as to give him a chance for life, was to carry him home without a moment’s delay.  He was accordingly raised upon their shoulders, and, with more sympathy than could be expected from such men, was borne to his father’s house in apparently a dying state.

It is unnecessary to attempt any description of the alarm which his appearance there created.  His father and Maria were distracted; even his mother manifested tokens of unusual sorrow, for after all she was his mother; and nothing, indeed, could surpass the sorrow of the whole family.  The servants were all in tears, and nothing but sobs and wailings could be heard throughout the house.  Harry Woodward himself put his handkerchief to his eyes, and seemed to feel a deep but subdued sorrow.  Medical aid was immediately sent for, but such was his precarious condition that no opinion could be formed as to his ultimate recover+y.