g over, to myself, all
the Irishmen I ever knew, and I cannot recall one that had a particle of
gloom or sorrow about him."

"Nor had I, Father," said I, with emotion; "nor did I know what sorrow
was, till three days back! I was light-hearted and happy; the world went
well with me, and I was content with the world. I will not trouble you
with my story; enough when I say that I came abroad to indulge a
taste for adventure and enterprise, and that the New World has not
disappointed my expectations. If I spent money a little too freely,
an odd grumble or so from 'the governor' was the darkest cloud that
shaded my horizon. An only son, perhaps I pushed that prerogative
somewhat too far; but our estate is unencumbered, and my father's habits
are the reverse of extravagant,--for a man of his class, I might call
them downright rustic in simplicity. Alas! why do I think of these
things? I have done with them forever."

"Nay, nay, you must not give way thus. It is very unlikely that one
young as you are can have any real guilt upon his conscience."

"Not yet, Father," said I, with a shudder,--"not yet; but who can tell
how it may be with me to-morrow or next day? What a different answer
should I have to give your question then!"

"This is some fancy,--some trick of a warm and ill-regulated
imagination, my son."

"It is the language my heart pours from my lips," said I, grasping
his hand as if with irrepressible emotion. "I have a heavy crime
here--here!" and I struck my breast violently; "and if it be as yet
unaccomplished, the shadow of the guilt is on me already."

"Sit still, my son, sit still, and listen to me," said he, restraining
me, as I was about to rise. "To whom can you reveal these mysterious
terrors more fittingly than to me? Be candid; tell me what weighs upon
your heart. It may be that a mere word of mine can give you courage and
calm."

"That cannot be," said I, firmly; "you speak in kindness, but you know
not what you promise. I am under a vow, Father,--I am under a vow."

"Well, my son, there are many vows meritorious. There are vows of
penitence, and of chastity, and of abstinence--"

"Mine is none of these," said I, with a low, guttural utterance, as if I
was biting each word I spoke.

"Vows of chastisement--"

"Not that, not that either!" cried I; then, dropping my voice to a low
whisper, I said, "I have sworn a solemn oath to commit a murder! I know
the full guilt of what is before me, I see a