The O'Donoghue: Tale of Ireland Fifty Years Ago
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Lever Charles James. The O'Donoghue: Tale of Ireland Fifty Years Ago
CHAPTER I. GLENFLESK
CHAPTER II. THE WAYSIDE INN
CHAPTER III. THE “COTTAGE AND THE CASTLE.”
CHAPTER IV. KERRY O’LEARY
CHAPTER V. IMPRESSIONS OF IRELAND
CHAPTER VI. THE BLACK VALLEY
CHAPTER VII. SIR ARCHY’S TEMPER TRIED
CHAPTER VIII. THE HOUSE OF SICKNESS
CHAPTER IX. A DOCTOR’S VISIT
CHAPTER X. AN EVENING AT “MARY” M’KELLY’s
CHAPTER XI. MISTAKES ON ALL SIDES
CHAPTER XII. THE GLEN AT MIDNIGHT
CHAPTER XIII. THE GUARDSMAN
CHAPTER XIV. THE COMMENTS ON A HURRIED DEPARTURE
CHAPTER XV. SOME OF THE PLEASURES OF PROPERTY
CHAPTER XVI. THE FOREIGN LETTER
CHAPTER XVII. KATE O’DONOGHUE
CHAPTER XVIII. A HASTY PLEDGE
CHAPTER XIX. A DIPLOMATIST DEFEATED
CHAPTER XX. TEMPTATION IN A WEAK HOUR
CHAPTER XXI. THE RETURN OF THE ENVOY
CHAPTER XXII. A MORNING VISIT
CHAPTER XXIII. SOME OPPOSITE TRAITS OF CHARACTER
CHAPTER XXIV. A WALK BY MOONLIGHT
CHAPTER XXV. A DAY OF DIFFICULT NEGOCIATIONS
CHAPTER XXVI. A LAST EVENING AT HOME
CHAPTER XXVII. A SUPPER PARTY
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CAPITAL AND ITS PLEASURES
CHAPTER XXIX. FIRST IMPRESSIONS
CHAPTER XXX. OLD CHARACTERS WITH NEW FACES
CHAPTER XXXI. SOME HINTS ABOUT HARRY TALBOT
CHAPTER XXXII. A PRESAGE OF DANGER
CHAPTER XXXIII. THE ST. PATRICK’S BALL
CHAPTER XXXIV. THE DAYBREAK ON THE STRAND
CHAPTER XXXV. THE WANDERER’S RETURN
CHAPTER XXXVI. SUSPICIONS ON EVERY SIDE
CHAPTER XXXVII. HEMSWORTH’S LETTER
CHAPTER XXXVIII. TAMPERING AND PLOTTING
CHAPTER XXXIX. THE BROTHERS
CHAPTER XL. THE LULL BEFORE THE STORM
CHAPTER XLI. A DISCOVERY
CHAPTER XLII. THE SHEALING
CHAPTER XLIII. THE CONFEDERATES
CHAPTER XLIV. THE MOUNTAIN AT SUNRISE
CHAPTER XLV. THE PROGRESS OF TREACHERY
CHAPTER XLVI. THE PRIEST’S COTTAGE
CHAPTER XLVII. THE DAY OF RECKONING
CHAPTER XLVIII. THE GLEN AND THE BAY
CHAPTER XLIX. THE END
Отрывок из книги
As the glen continues to wind between the mountains, it gradually becomes narrower, and at last contracts to a mere cleft, flanked on either side by two precipitous walls of rock, which rise to the height of several hundred feet above the road; this is the pass of Keim-an-eigh, one of the wildest and most romantic ravines of the scenery of the south.
At the entrance to this pass there stood, at the time we speak of, a small wayside inn, or shebeen-house, whose greatest recommendation was in the feet, that it was the only place where shelter and refreshment could be obtained for miles on either side. An humble thatched cabin abutting against the granite rock of the glen, and decorated with an almost effaced sign of St. Finbar converting a very unprepossessing heathen, over the door, showed where Mary M’Kelly dispensed “enthertainment for man and baste.”
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“I’m afraid I do,” rejoined the old man, with a bitter smile on his lip; “but it’s better we should understand each other. Good night.”
“Well, good night to you, any how,” said Lanty, with a slight sigh, as he dropped the money into his pocket, and left the room.
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