"Let me go, and no one shall hear a word of this." "You cannot go," said he excitedly, "it would be death to me if it were known, and to you too.

Stay where you are now." "I don't want to stay," said I; "I was a fool to come." "You will be still more a fool to go," said he.

"Sit down; eyes are on us already.

Life may be nothing to you, but it is everything to me." He spoke so eagerly, almost piteously, that I felt sorry for him, and for his sake more than my own took the seat at his side.
At that moment there entered the room a noble-looking young man, at sight of whom every one present rose to his feet and uncovered.
"It's Lord Edward himself!" exclaimed my companion, still trembling.
Lord Edward! I had heard of him before.

It was he whose letter I had carried four years ago to Depute Duport on behalf of the unfortunate Sillery; and it was he on whom just now the eyes of all Irish rebels were turned for guidance and hope in the desperate enterprise on which they were embarked.
There was something fascinating in his open frank countenance and the half reckless, joyous air with which he carried himself.