Roland Cashel, Volume I (of II)

Our tale opens on a gorgeous night of Midsummer, at an era so little remote that to name the precise year could have no interest for the reader, and in a region which seemed to...

Roland looked for some minutes in the direction by which Maritaña had gone, and then, with a sudden start, as if of some newly taken resolve, took the path towards the villa. He...

He told them of men that cared not a d--n For the law or the new police, And had very few scruples for killing a lamb, If they fancied they wanted the fleece.

It was about half-past six of an autumn evening, just as the gray twilight was darkening into the gloom that precedes night, that a servant, dressed in the most decorous black,...

The party who now took their seats at table were not made of those ingredients whose admixture accomplishes a social meeting. Their natures, pursuits, and tastes were only suffi...

The movement and bustle in the hall showed that Mr. Jones's surmise was correct; for scarcely had the carriage stopped than the street-door was flung wide open, and Mr. Pearse,...

There has always appeared to us something of treachery, not to speak of indelicacy, in the privileges authors are wont to assume in following their characters into their most se...

Notwithstanding all that we hear said against castle-building, how few among the unbought pleasures of life are so amusing, nor are we certain that these shadowy speculations--t...

As it chanced that many of Mr. Kennyfeck's clients were Western gentlemen, whose tastes have an unequivocal tendency to all matters relating to horse-flesh, his stable was not l...

How kindness all its spirit lends, When we discuss our dearest friends, Not meanly faults and follies hiding, But frankly owning each backsliding, Confessing with polite compass...

When Cashel descended the stairs to breakfast, he took a peep into the drawing-room as he went, some slight hope of seeing Olivia, perhaps, suggesting the step. He was disappoin...

There were lords and ladies,--I saw myself,-- A duke with his Garter, a knight with his Gaelph. “Orders”--as bright as the eye could see, The “Golden Fleece,” and the “Saint Esp...

He was, the world said, a jovial fellow, Who ne'er was known at Fortune to repine; Increasing years had rendered him more mellow, And age improved him--as it did his wine.

It was about ten days or a fortnight after the great Kennyfeck dinner, when all the gossip about its pretension, dulness, and bad taste had died away, and the worthy guests so b...

When Linton had determined within himself to make Cashel “his own,” his first care was to withdraw him from the daily society of the Kennyfecks, by whose familiar intercourse a...

Cashel made no reply; his thoughts were recurring to the scene of the late debauch, and in some pangs of self-reproach he was recalling the heavy sum he had lost. “You spoke of...

Linton was very far from indulging that dreamy inactivity of which he spoke. Plans and schemes of various kinds occupied his thoughts too intently to admit of slumber. Indeed, h...

When Tom Linton parted with Mr. Meek he repaired to the club in Kildare Street to listen to the gossip on the rumored dissolution of Parliament, and pick up what he could of the...

It was late of that same afternoon ere Cashel awoke. Mr. Phillis had twice adventured into the room on tiptoe, and as stealthily retired, and was now, for the third time, about...

In the window of a very pretty cottage-room overlooking the Liffey, and that romantic drive so well known to Dub-liners as the “low road” to Lucan, sat Tom Linton. He was enjoyi...

Cashel passed a night of feverish anxiety. Enrique's uncertain fate was never out of his thoughts; and if for a moment he dropped off to sleep, he immediately awoke with a sudde...

Scarcely had the Kennyfecks' carriage driven from the door when the stately equipage of the MacFarlines drew up, which was soon after followed by the very small pony phaeton of...

“Does this path lead to the house, friend?” said a gentleman whose dress bespoke recent travel, to the haggard, discontented figure of a man who, seated on a stone beside a low...

“Who can Mr. Linton be, my dear?” said old Mr. Corrigan, as he sat at breakfast the next day, and pondered oyer the card which, with a polite request for an interview, the serva...

To save our reader the tedious task of following Mr. Linton's movements, however necessary to our story some insight into them may be, we take the shorter, and therefore pleasan...

Great was the excitement and bustle in the Kennyfeck family on the arrival of a brief note from Roland Cashel, setting forth that the house at Tubbermore was at length in a stat...

Lord Charles Frobisher was never a very talkative companion, and as Cashel's present mood was not communicative, they drove along, scarcely interchanging a sentence, till the ha...

It may easily have escaped our reader's memory, that on Roland Cashel's hasty departure from Mr. Kennyfeck's, the seeds of a very serious schism had been sown in that respectabl...

It was upon a delicious evening, a little before sunset, that a yacht worked out of the harbor of Kingstown, all her canvas spread to catch the light air of wind, which scarcely...

To us of the present day, who see what Genii are guineas, fairy tales are mere allegories. Your true sorcerer is a credit “on Coutts,” and anything may be esteemed within his po...

An unusual bustle and commotion in the little inn awoke Linton early on the following morning. These were caused by the arrival of a host of cooks, coachmen, grooms, footmen, an...

Linton passed the greater part of the night in letter-writing. Combinations were thickening around him, and it demanded all the watchful activity he could command to prevent him...

As Roland Cashel strolled along alone, he could not divest himself of a certain feeling of disappointment, that, up to the present, at least, all his wealth had so little contri...

Cashel would have devoted more attention to the tasteful arrangement of the drawing-room into which they were ushered, if he had not been struck with the handsome and graceful f...

Cashel's was not a nature to dwell upon a grievance, and he would have, at once and forever, forgotten the late scene with Linton if it were not coupled in his mind with suspici...