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This much arranged, Greaves and Tom were made acquainted with the
whole particulars of the plot; the former entering, to all appearance,
heart and soul into it, and furthering it in every manner within the
limits of his power. In fact, Greaves was actually behaving in a
manner which staggered some suspicions still entertained by Tom,
notwithstanding the letter to which reference has already been made,
for he agreed to assist in forwarding the escape of one of Nicholas'
company that had deserted sometime previously, and was still concealed
in the outskirts of the town, in a place known to Barry only, and
where he was hemmed in by detectives from his regiment that were
continually traversing the city in colored clothes, or stationed as
look-outs at certain points in its vicinity. Barry was most anxious
that this poor fellow should not be left behind, and as Greaves
promised to procure a disguise for him and have him conveyed secretly
to Tom's on the night that the project of leaving the Fort was to be
put into execution, Barry, at the request of Greaves, penned a note,
which he hastily sealed with a love device well known to the deserter,
and which he had himself received at the hands of the beautiful girl
of his heart. The note ran thus:--

"Place the fullest confidence in the bearer. Follow his directions
implicitly. Your fate hangs in the balance. He will lead you to
where we shall meet. In great haste, &c.,

"NICHOLAS BARRY."

This note he handed to Greaves, who immediately consigned it to his
pocket-book, and set forth, as he alleged, to reconoitre the hiding
place of the soldier, and make such arrangements in his behalf as the
necessities of the case required.

As the brief missive just quoted was written in O'Brien's, and in the
presence of Tom himself, when Greaves left the premises, the host with
some uneasiness observed:--

"I don't know how it is, Nick, but somehow or other I cannot divest
myself of sartain lurkin suspicions which I have of that man; although
there is not a single Irish Nationalist in the city that would not
offer him his hand and a glass afther seein the letther that I saw.
However, you will remimber that the first night he came I didn't warm
to him, as I tould you, notwithstandin that I had to give up the next
mornin. Still, and withal he appears to be actin fair, although I
can't make out exactly what he's about here. Any way, in for a pinny
in for a pound, so we must make the best of it; but, if I find that he
is playin foul--well, God Almighty help him, and that's all I'll say.
However, three nights from this will tell the whole story, and if you
all make good your escape, you may take my word for it, I'll make a
clane breast of it to him and ask his pardon into the bargain. I think
with you that it was wise not to write to Kate about your throuble and
disappointment, or apprise her of your intintion, as it would only
agonize the poor craytshure; but should you be foiled and taken, what
a dreadful thing it would be for her to hear instead of the
intelligence of your freedom, that you were in the depths of a dungeon
from which you might have no manes of escape for years!"

Barry absolutely shuddered at the possibility of such a _denouement_
to the scheme that now absorbed his whole mind and soul. Although
sensible of the risk he ran, he never paused to regard the peculiar
features of the case as presented by his friend; but now that they
loomed up before him in such bold and fearful relief, he almost shrank
from pushing farther the dangerous project he had undertaken. Yet,
there was no other channel through which he could hope to become
speedily the husband of the woman he loved; while, if he abandoned it,
he might probably be separated from her forever, as he felt convinced,
that should an ocean roll once more between them, she would not long
survive the calamity. In a moment, then, the faintness of his heart
had passed away, and in its stead came the firm resolve to prosecute
his design to the death; feeling that imprisonment for any term of
years on the shores trodden by the being he adored, was preferable to
freedom, such as it was, in a land cut off from her by the trackless
desert of the great deep.

Re-assured once more, then, he continued cautiously the preparations
for his departure, attending to his duties with his usual assiduity,
and still murmuring at the decision of the Colonel. Neither he nor
Tom, of course, ever approached the hiding place of the refugee
already mentioned, although they managed to hear from him
occasionally, and to keep his spirits up. Had either, by day or night,
ventured near his retreat, they could scarcely have escaped
notice--the one from his soldier's uniform and the other from his
remarkable height and personal appearance; they were, therefore, with
all their misgivings, relieved of their embarrassment in this
relation, by the generous offer of Greaves, who, as it seemed, had
abundance of means at his command to further any project that he might
think proper to undertake relative to the escape of the deserter, or
those who had now determined to join him.

In this way, then, matters stood on the very evening which was to
close in the night selected by the intending fugitives, to put their
designs into execution. Everything was ready, and as the clock struck
twelve and the streets of the city were partially deserted, a cab
rumbled up to the door of The Harp, and Greaves and a stranger,
muffled to the eyes, stepping from it, entered the establishment and
passed through the bar into Tom's little parlor. Greaves had kept his
faith--the stranger was the deserter!




CHAPTER IX.


As might be presumed, from what we have already said regarding Kate
McCarthy, from the moment she took up her abode with her relatives at
Buffalo, she resumed her industrious habits, and set to work, in real
earnest, to add something to whatever young Barry had realized from
his own abilities and steady conduct on both sides of the Atlantic;
for, since his arrival in Canada, he had plied his pen amongst his
comrades, and in other quarters, copying papers and instructing the
children of the soldiers where he was stationed. She consequently soon
found her little store increased, and her time fully occupied. In
music and the earlier branches of English, she had several young
pupils; while for some of the fancy millinery stores of the city, she
occasionally employed her needle on some of those delicate and
exquisite ornaments of female dress which are at once so expensive and
attractive. Her labors were, of course, cheered through constant
intercourse by letter with Barry; and so the time rolled on up to the
very point when Nicholas first applied for his discharge. It may be
considered strange, that Barry had not left the service on his first
arrival in Canada; but, then, let it be understood, that neither he
nor Kate had yet acquired sufficient means with which to begin the
world; while both were steadily accumulating a little, slowly but
safely; and when, besides, he felt assured, that having the means at
his command, he could, at any moment, procure his discharge. We have
already said, that owing to his proud and unyielding nature, he was
not a favorite with his officers, and that such being the case, he
never 'rose above the ranks; but, then, after all, the most of his
superiors had, at times, recourse to his pen and excellent education
in various matters connected with the regiment, requiting him for his
services handsomely enough; but still at enmity with his Irish blood,
and what they feared was, his anti-British tendencies. Such
inducements as these, although accompanied with drawbacks, moved him
to remain in the service for a longer period than he should have done
under other circumstances, and reconciled his lover to an absence
which she believed could be terminated at any moment. And so time sped
with her, until the eve of the very day, on the night of which Barry
and his comrades were to leave the Fort, when returning towards her
home in the direction of Black Bock, from the city, just as it began
to get dusk, she was met by an over-dressed stranger, who accosting
her in a most respectful manner, begged to know if she could direct
him to the residence of Miss Kate McCarthy.

After recovering her surprise, and casting a searching glance at her
interrogator, she replied, that she was, herself, Miss McCarthy, and
begged to know what was his business with her. The man appeared to
hesitate, as if not crediting her assertion, and proceeded to say,
that he had a message for Miss McCarthy, but that he was led to
believe that that lady was a much older person than the one whom he
now addressed.

"Possibly," returned Kate, "there is some other lady of my name here;
but if such be the case, I am totally unaware of it. However," she
continued, "as I expect no message from any person of my acquaintance,
doubtless I am not the person you seek," and bowing slightly to the
stranger, she turned to pursue her way in the direction of her home.

"I beg your pardon for attempting to delay you," rejoined the
stranger, "but after all, you may be the lady I seek. If you are," he
went on to say, "you will be apt to recognize this token;" holding
something in his hand, which he now thrust out towards her.

In an instant, her whole manner altered, her cheeks flushed, and a
strange light burned in her eyes, as she exclaimed hurriedly, and
while greatly agitated:

"Yes, I am the person; let us walk towards the house. It is but a
short distance from where we stand."

In a few moments, they were both engaged in the most earnest
conversation, and evidently entering into some stipulation that was to
be carried out without delay. On nearing her residence, however, the
stranger expressed his opinion, that it were better that he should
return to the city at once, and make some arrangements in connection
with the subject of their conversation, whatever that was; enforcing
upon her, in the meantime, the most profound secrecy, and the strange
necessity, above all things, of not informing any of her friends or
relations of the project upon which they had decided.

"Twelve o'clock, at the Lower Ferry, then!" observed the stranger, as
he turned his face towards the city.

"Twelve o'clock!" she returned. "No fear! I shall be awaiting you!"

When she entered the house, with a view to concealing her emotions and
making some secret preparations for the accomplishment of the sudden
project foreshadowed by the words of the stranger, she hastily gained
her chamber. When alone, she gazed confused yet enraptured on the
unexpected talisman that had been given her, and which she still held
firmly in her grasp. Soon, however, becoming more calm, she set about
making such arrangements for her midnight tryst as she conceived
necessary; upon the completion of which, she penned a few lines to her
kind relatives, begging them to make no inquiries after her, as she
was safe; although, for reasons afterwards to be explained, she was
obliged to leave their roof by stealth, and for the moment in utter
darkness as to her destination. She assured them, nevertheless, that
although her conduct was for the present suspicious and inexplicable,
she was free from any taint of wrong, and was only obeying a voice
that would soon justify to the fullest, and before them personally,
the step she was now about to take. This note was left upon her
bed-room table, where she knew it would be discovered; so, after
declining to join the family at tea, on the plea of slight
indisposition, she filled a traveling satchel with what necessaries
she thought she might require for the few days she presumed she should
be absent, and extinguishing her lamp at the hour she usually retired
to rest, awaited, alone and in silence, for the clock to strike
eleven; at which time she knew the family would have all sought their
couch and be sunk in slumber.

From her chamber window she perceived that the lights soon began to
disappear from the casements of the few dwellings that were in the
immediate vicinity of her habitation, and that the quiet of repose was
stealing over the neighborhood. Busied with her own thoughts, and
anxious for the future, the time for her departure drew nigh more
rapidly than she had anticipated; so, when the last stroke of eleven
had died away through the house, she, having previously attired
herself for her journey, and secured, about her person, whatever money
she possessed, took up her satchel, and cautiously descending the
stairs, soon emerged out into the gloomy night, hastily bending her
footsteps towards the place of rendezvouz.

Here, besides encountering the individual already introduced to the
reader, who was waiting for her, she having had to travel a
considerable distance, and it being now close on midnight, she found a
second party stationed by the side of a good sized boat, into which
all three stepped upon her arrival; the two strangers seizing the oars
and striking boldly out for the Canadian side of the river. Although
rapid the current at the point of their crossing, so admirably did
they manage their craft and lustily did they pull, they did not
deviate much from the light on the opposite shore, which seemed to
gleam from some cottage window, and which they took as a beacon and
guide to their course. In the space of about half an hour, they landed
at the point they expected to make, where they found a team waiting,
with a lantern so ingeniously fixed in the wagon as to be discernible
from the American side of the river only; this being the light by
which the two boatmen had steered.

As they all stepped ashore, Kate had a full opportunity of
scrutinizing the appearance of the second stranger, who aided her in
crossing the river. He was a short, thick-set, heavy man, of a most
forbidding aspect, with a huge mouth and a broad, flat nose, without a
bridge. He wore a blue flannel shirt and a heavy, short over-coat and
slouched hat, and was, taking him all and all, about as villainous a
looking specimen of humanity as one could well meet in a day's walk.
Nor was the driver of the wagon into which she now was lifted, a very
decided improvement in this relation. He, also, was a most suspicions
looking fellow, although civil enough in his way. Kate felt relieved,
however, when her earliest acquaintance of the evening took his seat
beside her, and when she perceived the man with the blue shirt
re-entering the boat and pushing off for the American shore once
again.

The driver now having adjusted himself in his place in front of Kate
and her polite companion, the whip was laid to the horses, and the
party moved briskly along the bank of the river, until they struck
into a road which evidently led into the interior of the country. This
road they pursued at a slow pace until the first gray streaks of dawn
were visible in the eastern horizon; Kate's companion, from time to
time, making such commonplace observations as the necessity of the
case required; she supposing that the presence of the driver prevented
him from offering her any farther explanation on the subject of her
singular adventure. Just as surrounding objects were becoming more
distinct, they pulled up before an isolated building, in what appeared
to be a country place, and in which, early as it was, there was some
person already astir, as was evident from the light which shone from
one of the windows.

Here they all alighted and were received at the door of the dwelling
by a middle aged woman, with a strip of red silk bound round her head
and drawn down over one of her eyes. She was dressed in a plain but
neat manner, and exhibited sufficient traits of feminine beauty to
recommend her to either sex. The driver was evidently her husband, and
no very affectionate one either, if the coarse, cold manner in which
he received her welcome could be taken as any indication on this head.
However, as Kate was cold and weary, she gladly accepted an invitation
to alight and enter the building, where she found a large fire blazing
and crackling upon the hearth, in an apartment that was used as a
dining-room and kitchen; although the house was a large one and
clearly contained many apartments. When seated by the fire, and while
the driver was seeing to his horses, her companion, who also seated
himself by the warm blaze, informed her that, for the present, she was
at the end of her journey--that the driver, his wife and a grown up
niece or daughter, were the only inhabitants of the house, and that
the place was selected as her retreat for the time being, for reasons
that would doubtless be explained to her in due time. Although
surprised and mystified at all she had already experienced, she, of
course, had not one word to say in opposition to the disposition that
had been made of her; for had she not in her bosom the guarantee that
all was right; so, professing her willingness to remain in her
temporary abode until the period for her release arrived, and
promising to be as patient as possible, under the circumstances, she
begged the woman of the house to show her to her room, as she needed a
few hours rest, to which request her hostess readily acceded, having
first, though in vain, endeavored to prevail upon her to take some
refreshments after her journey.

The room to which Kate was shown was far from a despicable one, and
possessed many articles of furniture infinitely superior to those in
the department she had first entered. The floor was carpeted, and the
chairs and tables of quite a superior quality; the bed, also, seemed
invitingly clean and comfortable, while some excellent books were to
be found in a small, neat case, standing in one corner of the
apartment. On the table there burned a handsome lamp, and a fire
blazed cheerfully in a small, open stove, as though her arrival had
been expected and well cared for. When her hostess left her, she
examined her chamber door and windows, and found the latter quite
secure, while in the lock of the former was a key, one turn of which
would cut her off completely from any intrusion whatever. Seating
herself beside her lamp, she reviewed rapidly the events of the night,
and finding no solution for them, she slowly undressed, and consigning
herself to the care of heaven, was soon lost in a calm and refreshing
slumber, from which she did not awake until the sun had nearly
attained his meridian glory.

When she opened her eyes and collected her scattered senses, she
hastily arose, and dressing herself, rang a small bell that lay on her
table, and which her hostess desired she should use when she required
any attendance. Immediately a gentle tap was heard at her chamber
door, upon opening which, a young girl, about sixteen years of age,
presented herself with a pitcher of fresh water, begging to know, as
she placed it on the wash-stand, at what period she should bring up
breakfast; setting about opening the windows as she spoke, and
otherwise busying herself in arranging the room. There was something
in the appearance of this young creature, that at once enlisted the
sympathy and kindly feelings of Kate. Her features were strangely
handsome and prepossessing, and her form of the very finest
proportions. Her hands, although rough with hard work, were,
nevertheless, small and delicately shaped, while her feet,
notwithstanding that they were encased in a pair of over-large
slippers, were obviously very beautiful. She was tall for her age, and
apparently better educated than her seeming condition in life might
warrant. But what was most peculiar about her, was an air of sadness,
that seemed native to her expressive countenance, and which pervaded
her smiles even, with a strange, subduing power, that nearly allied
them to gentle tears. Her voice, too, was singularly sweet, low and
melodious; while her whole demeanor was so tinged with what might be
termed some lone, hidden sorrow, that Kate felt drawn towards her in a
manner the most unaccountable. In answer to a query put to her, she
said she was not, as was generally supposed, the daughter of the
owners of the establishment, but their niece, as she believed; and
that she had now been residing in the locality for over five years.
That her uncle did a great deal of teaming, and was often from home;
and that, in his absence, she and her aunt took care of a small patch
of ground that lay at the back of the house. She was almost glad, she
said, that the lady had come to stay sometime with them, and hoped
that she would allow her to often sit by her and read during the times
her uncle would be away; as it might tend to beguile many a weary
hour; that is, provided the lady would have to remain any length of
time with them.

There was something in all this which seemed to move Kate strangely.
The expression "almost glad" sounded curiously in her ears, and
awakened in her feelings of a no very pleasurable character. However,
she determined, upon so slight an acquaintance, not to push her
inquiries further just then; and by way of forming a friendly compact
with her attendant, assured her, that so long as she remained in the
house, she should always be happy to have her as a companion whenever
she could be spared from her domestic duties; and further, that it
would afford her the greatest possible pleasure to sit and listen to
her, whenever she could find a moment's time to either read for her or
while away a few minutes in friendly conversation. This condescension
seemed to light up the face of the interesting young creature with a
flush of gratitude the most ardent; and with a lighter step than that
with which she had entered the chamber, she tripped away, for the
purpose of bringing up the breakfast to which she had already
referred.

When Martha, as Kate's new acquaintance was called, again entered the
apartment, she was accompanied by her aunt, who was dressed just as
she had been the night before, with the exception that the strip of
red silk had been replaced by a purple band of the same material. As
the breakfast, which was excellent for a country place, was being
placed upon the table, Kate perceived that one side of the woman's
face was discolored, and being moved to make some inquiries regarding
the cause, was informed, that while breaking up some kindling wood, a
splinter had accidentally struck her face. This went to satisfy her,
of course, although she thought the large, black patch which fell down
along the cheek was singularly dark and wide to be traceable to the
small splinter that the woman asserted to be the cause of it. A
strange look from Martha, too, aroused a suspicion that the origin of
the disfigurement was not that named; so here the matter rested for
the present.

During her repast, she learned from Martha, who remained with her,
that the name of the people of the house was Wilson; that they were
English, and that the person who had arrived in company with her
uncle, who was also English, was called Stephen Smith; but where he
resided she was unable to say. This she knew, however, that he made
occasional visits to the family, and was sometimes accompanied by a
very ill-looking man, who remained a day or two, after having left
some boxes or cases in charge of her uncle, who subsequently disposed
of them in some manner unknown to her.

"But," she continued, "I don't like these men. They always come in the
night, and go away in the night, and are ever whispering; you must
not, however," she went on to say, "mention this to either my aunt or
my uncle; for, if they should know I had said so much, they would
doubtless be very angry with me."

"Oh!" returned Kate, "you may rely upon it, that whatever you may
choose to say in relation to the men in question, or anything else,
shall remain in my bosom; for to betray any confidence of the kind,
would, in my eyes, be criminal in the last degree."

"What brought you here, then!--what brought you here!" ejaculated
Martha, in an anxious, nervous tone. "There must be something
wrong!--some treachery, or I am sure a lady so good and pure as you
seem to be, would never cross this threshold."

Kate, becoming instantly alarmed, broke off suddenly in her repast,
and begged the young girl, for Heaven's sake, to be more explicit.

"I really don't know what more to say than I have already said,"
replied the girl; "but, as I feel drawn towards you by some invisible
power, short as our acquaintance has been, I will say, that I fear my
uncle's associates are lawless men, and believe that my aunt knows it,
and regrets it, too. But a few nights ago, when Smith came here to
make arrangements about your arrival, as I suppose, I heard high words
between my relatives after his departure, and, the next morning, found
my aunt's face just as you have seen it. But we dare not say much in
opposition to any proposition that my uncle might choose to make in
any connection, so violent and brutal is his temper at times. For my
own part, however," she proceeded, "so soon as I can escape from such
thraldom and associations, I shall try and make my own way in the
world; for my impression is, my uncle has some idea of a union between
me and the detestable creature, Smith, who accompanied you here last
night, and who, after an hour's rest, was again driven off by my
uncle, doubtless to whatever point he came from."

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