"Have you the pa.s.s?"

He handed me a paper, which read:--

"The bearer rides on my orders. Pa.s.s him, and two ladies.--Monsieur Gorman of Knockowen."

I was turning to the stable when he called me back.

"Remember my advice of this morning. Don't return here if you value your liberty. There are warrants out against all the men named in the list. The authorities are in earnest this time."

The tone in which he said this, coming from a man who had paltered with treason for years, struck me as contemptible; but I had no time just then to let him see what I felt.

"I will take care of myself," said I; "and your honour will do well to remember what I said about Tim. When the reckoning for all this business comes, it will stand you in good stead." And not waiting to hear his reply, I went off to the stables.

Martin, whom the reader will remember, and who, despite his connection with the marauders and his bad odour with the police, continued to retain his place in his honour's service, was nowhere to be found. He had been absent, said the boy, since the afternoon, when he had taken off Tara for exercise.

I was obliged, therefore, to put up with an inferior animal, and to saddle him myself. But I was too impatient to be off to allow of any further delay.

"At what hour is the tide full?" I asked of one of the servants.

"Half-an-hour after midnight," was the reply.

As he spoke, the clock in the hall struck half-past nine.

"In three hours," said I to myself, as I galloped down the avenue, "the Dutchman at Malin weighs anchor."

It was well for me I was no stranger to the rough, mountainous road I had to travel, for the night was pitch dark, and scarcely a soul was afoot at that late hour. I did, indeed, encounter a patrol of troopers near the Black Hill, who ordered me to halt and dismount and give an account of myself. But his honour's pa.s.sport satisfied them, as it did the sentry who challenged me on entering the little town of Carndonagh.

Thence to Malin it is but two leagues; but my wretched beast was so spent that, unless I wished to leave it on the road, I was compelled to take it most of the way at a foot's pace; so that when at last I pulled up before the little inn at Malin, it was on the stroke of midnight.

"Faith, Mr Gorman's fond of sending messengers," said the landlord.

"There was another of his here two hours since."

"What!" I exclaimed, springing up from the bench at which I was partaking of a hurried supper.

"Ay; he came with a message for the young lady up yonder at Mr Shannon's."

"What sort of man was he?"

"Much like yourself--a common-looking man, with a shaven face and a nose that turns up."

"Did he ride an iron-grey mare?" said I.

"Faith, a beauty."

"It's Martin!" I exclaimed, confirmed more than ever in my suspicions of foul play. "Show me Mr Shannon's house, like a decent man," said I to mine host.

"There'll be no one stirring there at this hour. His honour's away with Mr Gorman, and the women folks will be a-bed long since."

"Never mind about that," said I; "show me the house."

The landlord grumblingly turned out and walked with me to the Hall, which was some half-mile beyond the village.

"Yonder's the house," said he, stopping short, and pointing to a clump of trees just discernible in the darkness. "You'll not be wanting me further?"

I hastened on, and was presently knocking loudly at the door of the Hall. The house was quite dark, and every one had evidently retired for the night. Nearly ten minutes elapsed before a window opened, and a surly voice called out,--

"Well? Who's there, disturbing decent folk at this hour?"

"A messenger from Mr Gorman. Is the young lady at home? I must see her instantly."

"Young leddy! There's none younger than the mistress, and she sleeps at night like a decent woman."

"Has Miss Gorman gone, then?" I exclaimed.

"Why not, when she was sent for?"

"Who sent for her? When did she go? Where has she gone? Let me in, I say. There's foul play, and I must see your mistress instantly."

My agitation succeeded in convincing the fellow that something was amiss, and he put in his head and presently unbarred the front door.

"Mercy on us! what's the meaning of all this?" said the old man-servant as I stepped into the hall.

"Let me see Mrs Shannon," said I.

"What is it?" said a voice on the stairs before the butler could answer.

I explained my mission, and inquired if it was true that Miss Kit had already departed.

"To be sure," said the lady. "Mr Gorman's groom, Martin, rode over from Knockowen this evening with a message--"

"Written?" I interrupted.

"No; Mr Gorman was too busy to write. It was to say that a pa.s.sage had been taken for Miss Kit and a maid on a brig that happened to be lying off the Five Fingers; and that, as he found the ship was to sail for Dublin with the flood to-night, he had sent over Martin to see her safely on board. I confess it seemed a little unusual; and Miss Kit was very reluctant to start on such short notice, saying it had been arranged she was to travel overland by way of Derry. But tell me, what's amiss?"

"Foul play; nothing less!" cried I. "That ship is bound, not for Dublin, but for Holland; and this is a vile plot of the rebels to be revenged on Gorman, and decoy away his daughter as a hostage. Where did Martin say the ship lay?"

"At Five Fingers, west of the headland; two leagues from here."

"When did they start from here?"

"Ten o'clock."

"On foot?"

"No. They rode; and will have been there an hour ago."

"Can you lend me a horse? Mine at the inn is spent."

"There's the cart-horse," said the butler.