he welcome which I received on joining them was far different from
the boisterous good-humor that used to mark our greetings on other
occasions; just a nod of the head from this or that person, on the part
of those who sat, with a _dhud dhemur tha fhu?_ (* How are you?) in a
suppressed voice, even below a common whisper: but from the standing
group, who were evidently the projectors of the enterprise, I received
a convulsive grasp of the hand, accompanied by a fierce and desperate
look, that seemed to search my eye and countenance, to try if I were a
person likely to shrink from whatever they had resolved to execute.
It is surprising to think of the powerful expression which a moment of
intense interest or great danger is capable of giving to the eye, the
features and the slightest actions, especially in those whose station
in society does not require them to constrain nature, by the force of
social courtesies, into habits that conceal their natural emotions.
None of the standing group spoke; but as each of them wrung my hand
in silence, his eye was fixed on mine, with an expression of drunken
confidence and secrecy, and an insolent determination not to be gainsaid
without peril. If looks could be translated with certainty, they seemed
to say, "We are bound upon a project of vengeance, and if you do not
join us, remember we can revenge." Along with this grasp, they did not
forget to remind me of the common bond by which we were united, for
each man gave me the secret grip of Ribbonism in a manner that made the
joints of my fingers ache for some minutes afterwards.

There was one present, however--the highest in authority--whose actions
and demeanor were calm and unexcited. He seemed to labor under no
unusual influence whatever, but evinced a serenity so placid and
philosophical, that I attributed the silence of the sitting group, and
the restraint which curbed in the outbreaking passions of those who
stood, entirely to his presence. He was a schoolmaster, who taught his
daily school in that chapel, and acted also on Sunday, in the capacity
of clerk to the priest--an excellent and amiable old man, who knew
little of his illegal connections and atrocious conduct.

When the ceremonies of brotherly recognition and friendship were past,
the Captain (by which title I shall designate the last-mentioned person)
stooped, and, raising a jar of whiskey on the corner of the altar, held
a wineglass to its neck, which he filled, and