observed Blarden, "let's see the keys--show them here."

Chancey accordingly drew them from his pocket, and laid them on the table.

"There's the three of them," observed he, calmly.

"Have you no more?" inquired Blarden, looking rather aghast.

"No, indeed, the devil a one," replied Chancey, thrusting his arm to the elbow in his coat pocket.

"D--n me, but I think this is the key of the cellar," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Blarden, in a tone which energized even the apathetic lawyer, "come here, Ashwoode, what key's this?"

"It _is_ the cellar key," said Ashwoode, in a faltering voice and turning very pale.

"Try your pockets for another, and find it, or ----." The aposiopesis was alarming, and Blarden's direction was obeyed instantaneously.

"I declare to G.o.d," said Chancey, much alarmed, "I have but the three, and that in the door makes four."

"You d----d oaf," said Blarden, between his set teeth, "if you have botched this business, I'll let you know for what. Ashwoode, which of the keys is missing?"

After a moment's hesitation, Ashwoode led the way through the pa.s.sage which Mary and her companion had so lately traversed.

"That's the door," said he, pointing to that through which the escape had been effected.

"And what's this?" cried Blarden, shouldering past Sir Henry, and raising something from the ground, just by the door-post, "a handkerchief, and marked, too--it's the young lady's own--give me the key of the lady's chamber," continued he, in a low changed voice, which had, in the ears of the barrister, something more unpleasant still than his loudest and harshest tones--"give me the key, and follow me."

He clutched it, and followed by the terror-stricken barrister, and by Sir Henry Ashwoode, he retraced his steps, and scaled the stairs with hurried and lengthy strides. Without stopping to glance at the form of the still slumbering drunkard, or to question the servant who sat opposite, on the chair recently occupied by Chancey, he strode directly to the door of Mary Ashwoode's sleeping apartment, opened it, and stood in an untenanted chamber.

For a moment he paused, aghast and motionless; he ran to the bed--still warm with the recent pressure of his intended victim--the room was, indeed, deserted. He turned round, absolutely black and speechless with rage. As he advanced, the wretched barrister--the tool of his worst schemes--cowered back in terror. Without speaking one word, Blarden clutched him by the throat, and hurled him with his whole power backward. With tremendous force he descended with his head upon the bar of the grate, and thence to the hearthstone; there, breathless, powerless, and to all outward seeming a livid corpse, lay the devil's cast-off servant, the red blood trickling fast from ears, nose, and mouth. Not waiting to see whether Chancey was alive or dead, Mr.

Blarden seized the brandy flask and dashed it in the face of the stupid drunkard--who, disturbed by the fearful hubbub, was just beginning to open his eyes--and leaving that reverend personage drenched in blood and brandy, to take care of his boon companion as best he might, Blarden strode down the stairs, followed by Ashwoode and the servants.

"Get horses--horses all," shouted he, "to the stables--by Jove, it was they we met on the road--the two girls--quick to the stables--whoever catches them shall have his hat full of crowns."

Led by Blarden, they all hurried to the stables, where they found the horses unsaddled.

"On with the saddles--for your life be quick," cried Blarden, "four horses--fresh ones."

While uttering his furious mandates, with many a blasphemous imprecation, he aided the preparations himself, and with hands that trembled with eagerness and rage, he drew the girths, and buckled the bridles, and in almost less than a minute, the four horses were led out upon the broken pavement of the stable-yard.

"Mind, boys," cried Blarden, "they are two mad-women--escaped mad-women--ride for your lives. Ashwoode, do you take the right, and I'll take the left when we come on the road--do you follow me, Tony--and d.i.c.k, do you go with Sir Henry--and, now, devil take the hindmost." With these words he plunged the spurs into his horse's flanks, and with the speed of a thunder blast, they all rode helter-skelter, in pursuit of their human prey.

CHAPTER LXI.

THE CART AND THE STRAW.

While this was pa.s.sing, the two girls continued their flight toward Dublin city. They had not long pa.s.sed Ashwoode and Nicholas Blarden, when Mary's strength entirely failed, and she was forced first to moderate her pace to a walk, and finally to stop altogether and seat herself upon the bank which sloped abruptly down to the road.

"Flora," said she, faintly, "I am quite exhausted--my strength is entirely gone; I must perforce rest myself and take breath here for a few minutes, and then, with G.o.d's help, I shall again have power to proceed."

"Do so, my lady," said Flora, taking her stand beside her mistress, "and I'll watch and listen here by you. Hish! don't I hear the sound of a car on the road before us?"

So, indeed, it seemed, and at no great distance too. The road, however, just where they had placed themselves, made a sweep which concealed the vehicle, whatever it might be, effectually from their sight. The girl clambered to the top of the bank, and thence commanding a view of that part of the highway which beneath was hidden from sight, she beheld, two or three hundred yards in advance of them, a horse and cart, the driver of which was seated upon the shaft, slowly wending along in the direction of the city.

"My lady," said she, descending from her post of observation, "if you have strength to run on for only a few perches more of the road, we'll be up with a car, and get a lift into town without any more trouble; try it, my lady."

Accordingly they again set forth, and after a few minutes' further exertion, they came up with the vehicle and accosted the driver, a countryman, with a short pipe in his mouth, who, with folded arms, sat listlessly upon the shaft.

"Honest man, G.o.d bless you, and give us a bit of a lift," said Flora Guy; "we've come a long way and very fast, and we are fairly tired to death."

The countryman drew the halter which he held, and uttering an unspellable sound, addressed to his horse, succeeded in bringing him and the vehicle to a standstill.

"Never say it twiste," said he; "get up, and welcome. Wait a bit, till I give the straw a turn for yees; not for it; step on the wheel; don't be in dread, he won't move."

So saying, he a.s.sisted Mary Ashwoode into the rude vehicle, and not without wondering curiosity, for the hand which she extended to him was white and slender, and glittered in the moonlight with jewelled rings.

Flora Guy followed; but before the cart was again in motion, they distinctly heard the far-off clatter of galloping hoofs upon the road.

Their fears too truly accounted for these sounds.

"Merciful G.o.d! we are pursued," said Mary Ashwoode; and then turning to the driver, she continued, with an agony of imploring terror--"as you look for pity at the dreadful hour when all shall need it, do not betray us. If it be as I suspect, we are pursued--pursued with an evil--a dreadful purpose. I had rather die a thousand deaths than fall into the hands of those who are approaching."

"Never fear," interrupted the man; "lie down flat both of you in the cart and I'll hide you--never fear."

They obeyed his directions, and he spread over their prostrate bodies a covering of straw; not quite so thick, however, as their fears would have desired; and thus screened, they awaited the approach of those whom they rightly conjectured to be in hot pursuit of them. The man resumed his seat upon the shaft, and once more the cart was in motion.

Meanwhile, the sharp and rapid clang of the hoofs approached, and before the hors.e.m.e.n had reached them, the voice of Nicholas Blarden was shouting--

"Holloa--holloa, honest fellow--saw you two young women on the road?"

There was scarcely time allowed for an answer, when the thundering clang of the iron hoofs resounded beside the conveyance in which the fugitives were lying, and the hors.e.m.e.n both, with a sudden and violent exertion, brought their beasts to a halt, and so abruptly, that although thrown back upon their haunches, the horses slid on for several yards upon the hard road, by the mere impetus of their former speed, knocking showers of fire flakes from the stones.

"I say," repeated Blarden, "did two girls pa.s.s you on the road--did you see them?"

"Divil a sign of a girl I see," replied the man, carelessly; and to their infinite relief, the two fugitives heard their pursuer, with a muttered curse, plunge forward upon his way. This relief, however, was but momentary, for checking his horse again, Blarden returned.

"I say, my good chap, I pa.s.sed you before to-night, not ten minutes since, on my way out of town, not half-a-mile from this spot--the girls were running this way, and if they're between this and the gate--they must have pa.s.sed you."

"Devil a girl I seen this---- Oh, begorra! you're right, sure enough,"

said the driver, "what the devil was I thinkin' about--two girls--one of them tall and slim, with rings on her fingers--and the other a short, active bit of a colleen?"

"Ay--ay--ay," cried Blarden.

"Sure enough they did overtake me," said the man, "shortly after I pa.s.sed two gentlemen--I suppose you are one of them--and the little one axed me the direction of Harold's-cross--and when I showed it to them, bedad they both made no more bones about it, but across the ditch with them, an' away over the fields--they're half-way there by this time--it was jist down there by the broken bridge--they were quare-looking girls."

"It would be d----d odd if they were not--they're both mad," replied Blarden; "thank you for your hint."

And so saying, as he turned his horse's head in the direction indicated, he chucked a crown piece into the cart. As the conveyance proceeded, they heard the driver soliloquizing with evident satisfaction--