His honour looked up with an angry flush on his pale face.

"Kilgorman!" cried he; "what took you there? Don't you know no one is allowed within the grounds?"

"I didn't know till Barry told me. And even then I did not suppose the prohibition applied to me."

His honour rounded angrily on me.

"What does this mean, sirrah? How did you dare to take her to Kilgorman after the charge I laid upon you?"

"Barry take me, indeed!" broke in Miss Kit, with a mighty toss of her head. "Barry takes me nowhere. It was I took him, whether he would or not; and a very poor adventure he made of it. You shall take me yourself next time, father."

"Understand," said his honour, looking very black, "that no one, not even my daughter, is permitted to go where I forbid.--As for you, you prying fool," added he, turning on me, "you shall see whether I am to be obeyed or not."

I deemed it prudent to say nothing, and retired, pretty determined that were his honour Saint Patrick himself he should not keep me out of Kilgorman. But I had missed my chance.

After that day my position at Knockowen became more irksome than ever, for I was taken from my work in the stables, and a new boy appointed in my place to tend the horses and accompany Miss Kit when she rode out.

And I was kept all day within doors, at everybody's beck and call, from c.o.c.k-crow, when I had to light the fires, to midnight, when I had to see his honour's clothes brushed and laid out in his dressing-room.

My only liberty, if liberty it might be called, was when the boat was wanted. There my seamanship made me necessary. But since no one thought of sailing towards the lough mouth, but only across or up towards Rathmullan, there was no chance of my defying his honour's regulations that way.

For a week or two even my mother's message was driven from my head by hatred of my rival, the new groom--a villainous-looking rascal, some years my elder, who yet had not even the merit of being a good horseman to commend him.

Rightly or wrongly, I suspected that part of his business was to keep a watch on me. And if anything could determine me to defiance that was enough. As to Miss Kit, I humbly hoped she liked the change as little as I; for since her liberty was cut off from one road, and her new lackey had neither looks nor conversation to commend him, her love of riding gradually flagged, and presently Martin--that was the fellow's name--had to lead out her riderless horse for exercise.

The trying thing to me was that Martin would not even do me the compliment of recognising me as his enemy. It was not for lack of invitation, nor was it owing to cowardice. But he was a dogged, short- sighted villain, taken up with his own concerns, and not choosing to trouble his head with those of others.

But one day I had the luck to startle him out of his reserve. Miss Kit came down to the yard that morning, and for the first time for more than a week ordered out her horse.

Martin, who was sitting lazily in the kitchen, rose somewhat sulkily and said,--

"It's not the day for a ride. Sure Juno's that saucy with want of work there'll be no holding her in. Besides, the master--"

But the young lady cut him short.

"Get up, sir, at once, and do as you are bid. There's more than Juno is saucy with want of work. Be quick now."

He went off with a scowl, and presently returned, leading out Juno and the horse on which he was to follow--a great-limbed animal called Paddy.

What he had said about my little lady's mare was very true. High- spirited she was at best of times, but a week's idleness and eating had made her fairly wicked; and as I looked out from the kitchen door to watch them start, I wished it was my business and not Martin's to see her safe on her way.

"Hold her head till I mount," said Miss Kit, after trying for a minute or two to coax the mare into peace. "She will be easy enough when I am up."

But though Martin held her head, the animal yet started and shied and curvetted every time Miss Kit gathered the reins in her hand and lifted her foot to the stirrup.

So I came out to the yard and gave her my hand to mount by.

Martin scowled very black at this.

"Go along away out of that," said he, when my lady was fairly perched on the saddle; "the mare's enough to fright her without you."

"Get you up on Paddy," said I, "and don't talk to me.--So, steady there, Juno la.s.s.--Hold her gently, Miss Kit."

Martin, muttering to himself, let go the mare's head and walked over to where Paddy stood.

Just then, as luck would have it, out came Con the dog with a joyous yap.

This sudden noise was too much for the courage of Juno, who, feeling her head free and only a light weight on her back, gave a wild plunge, and next moment was away at a gallop out of the yard gate and down the avenue.

It was no time for halting. The mare must be caught before she could reach the cliffs, or to a certainty she and her rider were doomed.

Martin stood with his hand on Paddy's mane, gaping after the runaway.

With a sudden spring I dashed him aside and vaulted into the saddle, and before he could expostulate or guess what had happened I was away in full chase.

Even in the terror of the moment I could not help laughing to myself at the thought of poor Martin tumbling across the stable-yard, and finding himself out of the hunt. After that he would at least deign to recognise Barry Gallagher.

Though scarcely half-a-minute had elapsed, Juno and her precious burden were at the end of the long avenue before I was at the beginning of it.

Paddy, amazed at all the excitement, lost some seconds in plunging before I could induce him to lay himself out for the pursuit. Then, to do him justice, he needed little coaxing from me. If only his wind was as long as his stride, this hue and cry might prove a holiday freak. If not--

It was a moment of keen suspense when at last I got clear of the avenue and looked round in search of the fugitive. There she was, her light figure thrown back as she strained at the reins, and her face turned to the upland ahead. Just beyond Knockowen, on the south side, is a long stretch of smooth turf, lying along the cliff-tops for a mile or more, and then suddenly cut short by a deep chasm in the coast, into which the waters of the lough pour tumultuously even in fair weather, and in foul, rage and boil as if in a caldron. It was a favourite sport of Miss Kit to gallop along this tempting stretch of gra.s.s, and Juno knew the way only too well.

As I came into the open, I could see that, in spite of the rider's efforts, the mare was making straight for the dangerous cliffs, and that in a few short minutes, unless a miracle happened, or unless I could reach the spot first, her mad career was likely to end in a way it made me sick to contemplate.

I stood in my stirrups and gave a loud halloo, and could see Miss Kit turn her head for a moment and then settle down again to the task of keeping her seat and pulling frantically at the reins; while I, aiming direct for the point of danger, put Paddy in a straight line across country.

It was a desperate race, that between the mad, high-mettled mare and the canny, raw-boned hunter. Happily he had but a boy's light weight to carry. For a moment or two I lost sight of the runaways. Then as I cleared a rise I saw them, a quarter of a mile away on my right, our courses closing on one another at every yard.

Presently, with a sickening sensation, I caught sight of the solitary beacon-post which marks the edge of the chasm for the unwary traveller.

On clear ground I could have been certain of arriving there in time to stop the mare, but, to my dismay, two tumble-down stone walls, of which I had forgotten the existence, lay between me and the goal. The nearer of them was fairly high; the other, only twenty yards beyond, was lower, but more dangerous on account of the loose stones between the two.

I called on Paddy; and, oh, the suspense as he rose at the ugly wall!

Over! Paddy came down with a stagger, and lost a pace as he gathered himself again for the next. None but a born Irishman could have picked his way as he did among the scattered boulders, or chosen his starting- point for the lower yet longer leap.

I remember, as we rose at it, I saw Miss Kit quite close, very white, with her hat gone, and her stirrup swinging loose, but very resolute still, gripping hard at the pommel with one hand as she tried to wave to me with the other.

Paddy performed his task n.o.bly, and never broke stride as he settled down for the few remaining yards of that great race.

We had won, but only just. I had barely time to rein up at a safe distance from the edge, and turn to meet the oncomers, when there they were.

Juno, finding her way suddenly obstructed, flung up her head and swerved inland, and before she could gather herself I had leaned across and lifted her panting burden in my arm.

Juno might go now for me!

As for Paddy, no one knows how much at that critical moment I owed to his steady help.

The little lady looked up with a half smile as I set her before me on the saddle. Then her head fell back on my shoulder in a faint, and I had the sweetest and (for all we walked the whole way) the shortest ride home I ever knew.