of all this," said he to me that
day, as we followed to the court of inquiry. "I wish to God I had left
you where I found you."

That was the least I expected of his honour. His gratitude counted for
very little beside the look Miss Kit had given me the night before, when
the danger was yet to come.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

FUGITIVE BUT NOT VAGABOND.

His Honour was quite right; there was trouble enough out of that night's
business. But more for me than for him.

For him, as he was then situated, playing a fast and loose game between
the side of order and the side of treason, the fact that his house had
been attacked by friends of the latter party stood him in good stead
with the former. And if any of his brother magistrates had been
inclined to suspect him of half-heartedness before, this outrage might
be counted on to confirm his zeal for the right cause.

Under cover of this new security he was able to play even more than
before into the hands of the lawless party. His first act was to hush
up the affair of the night attack and procure the release of the two
prisoners. His next was to abandon me to the tender mercies of those
who sought vengeance for the blood of the dead man.

Once as I crossed the lough in a boat on his honour's business a shot
across the water, which buried itself in the gunwale, made me look
round, and I perceived one of the Rathmullan long-boats, manned by four
of the party I had overheard in the inn weeks before, in full chase.
The wind was slack, and escape was almost impossible. Could I only have
used my sail I might have led them a pretty dance out into the open. As
it was, without arms, one to four, and in a little, broad-beamed tub, I
could do nothing but haul down my sail and wait their pleasure.

"Martin was right this time," I heard him who had fired the shot say, as
he leisurely reloaded.

I was in doubt whether I was to be made an end of then and there, or
allowed the mockery of a trial.

"What's your will?" said I, as they came alongside. "You've no need to
scratch the paint of his honour's boat, anyway."

They said nothing, but hauled me bodily into their own craft, and tied
me hand and foot.

"Save your breath," said one presently, "till it's wanted."

And I was flung like a sack on the floor of the boat.

"What'll we do with yon?" said another, knocking his oar against the
Knockowen boat.

"Capsize her and let her drift," said the leader of the party.

S