aybreak with that craving impatience which sick
men feel who count the long hours of darkness, and think the morning
must bring relief. It came at last; and the heavy, clanking sounds of
massive doors opening and shutting--the mournful echoes that told of
captivity and durance--sighed along the corridors, and then all was
still.

There is a time in reverie when silence seems not to encourage thought,
but rather, like some lowering cloud, to hang over and spread a gloomy
insensibility around us. Long watching and much thinking had brought me
now to this; and I sat looking upon the faint streak of sunlight that
streamed through the barred window, and speculating within myself when
it would fall upon the hearth. Suddenly I heard the sound of footsteps
in the corridor; my door was opened, and the jailer entered, followed by
a man carrying my breakfast.

"Come, sir," said the former, "I hope you have got an appetite for our
prison fare. Lose no time; for there is a carriage in waiting to bring
you to the Castle, and the major himself is without."

"I am ready this moment," said I, starting up, and taking my hat;
and notwithstanding every entreaty to eat, made with kindness and
good-nature, I refused everything, and followed him out into the
courtyard, where Barton was pacing up and down, impatiently awaiting our
coming.

CHAPTER XV. THE CASTLE.

Scarcely had the carriage driven from the gloomy portals of the jail,
and entered one of the long, straggling streets that led towards the
river, when I noticed a singular-looking figure who ran alongside, and
kept up with us as we went. A true type of the raggedness of old Dublin,
his clothes fluttered behind him like ribbons; even from his hat,
his long, red hair straggled and streamed, while his nether garments
displayed a patchwork no tartan could vie with. His legs were bare, save
where a single topboot defended one of them; the other was naked to
the foot, clad in an old morocco slipper, which he kicked up and caught
again as he went with surprising dexterity, accompanying the feat with
a wild yell which might have shamed a warwhoop. He carried a bundle of
printed papers over one arm; and flourished one of them in his right
hand, vociferating something all the while with uncommon energy.
Scarcely had the carriage drawn up at the door of an old-fashioned brick
building when he was beside it.

"How are ye. Major? How is every bit of you, sir? Are ye taking them
this m