The Coiners' Den [pp. 488-504]

I-884.~ TirE COLvERS' DEN. 493
many mill-wheels-and entered the wild and picturesque country
which ties between the Dodder and the mountains. I had often
roamed through that district with pleasure. But it never appeared so verdant and beautiful as on the present occasion. It
was worthy of Paradise. I asked myself what people could see
in the County Wicklow-a county so vastly inferior, in my mind,
to the County Dublin. Here the verdure was visibly greener,
the sun brighter, the air balmier, and the music of the lark more
dulcid and exhilarating. At least so it seemed to me, and so I
am sure it was.
After some further driving we came to what was termed
then, and possibly is still, the "Nlllitary Road." Along this road,
constructed by the army of England during the rebellion of
`98, we proceeded until the fresh breezes laden with the saline
vapors of the sea apprised us that we were approaching the
rocky shores of Howth. Ships became visible in the distance,
gliding with snow-white sails and imperceptible motion, swanlike and beautiful, et Spurnas salis cere ruebanl-" and broke the
splashing waves with their prows." Here we found the soil
degenerating into barrenness, thinly covered with a starveling
vegetation, and dotted with squalid cabins walled with mud
and thatched with straw, picturesque to look at but undesir~~ble
to live in. To my unspeakable amazement, the car containing
my inamorata stopped before one of those wigwams, and she herself, bounding from the vehicle and accompanied by her female
companion, went in. "What on earth can she want in such a
den? Assuredly she cannot live in that pig-sty," I said to myself
half aloud. "I wish to mercy I could find some pretext for following her into that hideous hovel and ascertaining the object of
her visit."
"I know what your honor wants," said the driver, as he perused me with a keen glance. "You want an accident? It's
what a good accident would fit you to a T. Isn't it?" "That's
exactly what I want," said I, brightening up at the suggestion;
"an accident would serve me as an excuse for penetrating that
hovel and ascertaining what's going on inside." " There, now,
said the driver exultingly, "didn't I know what you wanted?
There is nothing like a good sound accident in cases of this kind.
When you're dealing with a young lady an accident is the sovereign est thing in life. It touches her heart and makes her sensible at wanst, the darlint."
"But while you're talking we're losing time," said I impa
tiently; "let me have your accident at once." "Oh! fair and