What had become of her child, and of Caterine Collins, she could not tell.

She had, however, other reflections, for the young, but guilty mother was not without strong, and even tender, domestic affections.
"O!" she exclaimed, in her woful solitude and utter desolation, "if I only had the forgiveness of my father and mother I could die happy; but now I feel that death is upon me, and I must die alone." A footstep was heard, and it relieved her.

"Oh! this is Caterine," she said, "with the child." The door opened, and the young tory, Shawn-na-Middogue, entered.

He paused for a moment and looked about him.
"What is this ?" said he, looking at the body of Nannie Morrissy; "is it death ?" "It is death," replied Grace, faintly; "there is one death, but, Shawn, there will soon be another.

Shawn, forgive me, and kiss me for the sake of our early love." "I am an outlaw," replied the stern young tory; "but I will never kiss the polluted lips of woman as long as she has breath in her body." "But Caterine Collins has taken away my child, and has not returned with it." "No, nor ever will," replied the outlaw.