But, alas! from the pupilage of that worthy churchman, Marc and I were fated to be delivered. Father Dominic caught fever at the bedside of a sick tenant; and to the universal regret of the whole household, he went the way which all, priest and levite, are doomed to go. At the time, his loss was severely felt, and after-experience did not tend to lessen it. Father Grady, who in spiritual matters became his successor, was ill fitted to step into poor Dominic’s shoes. He was a low-born, illiterate, intermeddling priest, of forbidding exterior and repulsive manners. His _gaucheries_ disgusted my mother, and my father fired at his vulgar arrogance. Except professionally, the visits of the priest became infrequent; and when the maids returned from confession with a route made out for the Reek, * they would call to memory the gentle penances of father Dominic,--offer a tear as a tribute to his memory,--and murmur a “Heaven be merciful to his soul.” The first consequence of the death of Father Dominic was my being transmitted to the school of Enniskillen, while my foster-brother finished his education under the instruction of the village pedagogue. As to the latter, a more unpromising disciple never figured on a slate; but, to give the devil his due, Marc Antony was even as his enemies allowed, the best boxer of his inches in the parish. * A lofty mountain in the west of Ireland, where Roman Catholic penances are performed. How quickly years roll on! Six passed rapidly away.--I grew fast--manhood came on apace--every day the thrall of school-discipline became more irksome, and made me long to be emancipated. I had indeed sprung up with marvellous rapidity, and I looked with impatience to the moment when I should make my entrée on the world. Nor was I kept much longer in suspense, for a mandate from my father unexpectedly arrived, commanding my return to Kilcullen, and acquainting me that I had been gazetted to a second lieutenancy in the Twenty-first fusileers. With a joyous heart I took leave of my companions; exchanged forgiveness with the ushers; flung boyhood to the winds: and, ignorant of the world as an infant, at eighteen years, deemed myself in pride of heart a man. It was singular enough that the day of my return also proved to be the anniversary of my birth; and of this I was duly apprized by Sergeant Brady, as he unclosed the gate to let me in. Having returned the honest squeeze with which the non-commissioned officer bade me welcome, I gave my horse to one of the eternal hangers-on whom I overtook lounging slowly home from the village tobacco-shop, and passed through a sort of pleasure-ground that led directly to the house. Turning the hedge, I came suddenly on Susan, my mother’s maid. She was spreading caps and muslins on the bushes--and, never before, did her eyes look so black, or her cheeks half so rosy. She littered a faint scream. “Holy Virgin! Master Hector, is it you?”