band of desperate coiners who would forthwith have made away with him if
the Marshal had not told them who he was, and warned them that if he
disappeared his army would dig to the earth's centre to find him, and
would infallibly find and finish every one of them.

'"If I am reconducted to my chamber by this steel-clad spectre and
allowed to sleep undisturbed until morning, I promise never to relate
this adventure while any harm can happen to you by my telling it."

'To this the coiners after consultation agreed. He was led back to bed,
and next morning ridiculed all spectral stories to his officers. It was
not until the world of coiners was finally broken up that he related his
experiences.'

In that story I wonder who went bail for the Marshal's truth. Veracity
and gallantry may not have gone hand in hand, or perhaps they were
affianced, and therefore took care not to come near one another.

Another sort of gallantry was noteworthy in what was known as Young
Ireland, for in 'the set' were several ladies, Eva, Mary, and Speranza,
all prone to write seditious verse. Eva was Miss Mary Kelly, daughter of
a Galway gentleman, who promised her lover to wait while he underwent
ten years penal servitude, and kept her word, marrying him at Kingstown
two days after his release. 'Mary' was Miss Ellen Downing, whose lover
was also a fugitive after the outbreak; but he proved unfaithful, and
she was one of the last I heard of who died of pining away. It used to
be much talked of in my young days. Perhaps now that it is not, it more
often occurs. 'Speranza' was Lady Wilde, a fluent poet and essayist, who
survived her husband the archæologist. One of her children inherited
much of her talent, but bears a chequered fame. I always thought the wit