There the air was fragrant with the scent of a sprig of honeysuckle that
lay yet unwithered in the window. On the floor lay scattered a few
papers, written in a notable poetic hand, and addressed--as I could not
but read--"To one who bade the poet give o'er his singing," or "To the
fair moon, handmaiden to the glorious sun," or in such wise. On a chair
was another paper half written, and beside it a pen: "Humphrey," it
said, in Jeannette's loved hand--"Humphrey, come over and help--" Here
the pen had hastily ceased its work.
This mute appeal, lying thus to greet me, roused the whole man in every
pulse of my body. I seized the dear paper in my hands and kissed it,
and then, placing both it and the maiden's scarf in my bosom, I dashed
from the room with drawn sword and called my men to horse.
"To horse!" I cried, "and ride as you never rode before, men; for I vow
to heaven I will not quit this saddle till I find the foul dog who has
robbed me of my dearest jewel."
They obeyed quickly and cheerily, for the horror of that night had given
them enough and to spare of Castleroe.
A mile through the forest road was a woodman's hut whose master looked
out curiously to see us pass. It seemed to me worth while, being the
first man we had met, to question him. So I ordered a halt.
"You are an O'Neill?" said I.
"Who told you so?" growled he in Irish; and I guessed from the look of
him that he was the man I wanted.