one I could have sent to mind her while I
was gone! But our cabin on the bleak headland was miles from a
neighbour--Knockowen, whither I was speeding, was indeed the nearest
place.

For a lad of twelve it was no easy task on a dark stormy night like this
to cross the lough. But I thought nothing of that. Most of my short
life I had spent afloat, and I knew every rock and creek along the
shores.

The boat lay tugging at her moorings when I got down to her, as if
impatient to be away. Luckily her mast was up. It would need but the
least taste of canvas to run her across. The business would be coming
back in the face of the wind.

Sure enough, when I cast off, she rushed through the water like
something mad. And again my spirits rose as I heard the hiss of the
foam at her bows, and felt her rear and plunge among the big boisterous
waves.

After a time I could catch the light at Knockowen as it flickered in the
wind, and put up my helm so as to clear the shoal. This would bring me
close under Kilgorman rock, whence I could drive before the wind as far
as Knockowen.

To my surprise, as I closed in on the shore I saw strange lights at the
water's edge, and casting my eyes up towards Kilgorman (which I never
did in those days without a qualm, because of the ghost that haunted it)
I seemed to see a moving light there also.

I said a hurried prayer, and put round my helm into the wind before my
time. Even the shoal, thought I, was less to fear than the unearthly
terrors of that awful deserted house.

By good luck the strong wind carried me in clear of the bank and so into
fairly still water, and in half-an-hour more I was in under the light of
Knockowen, mooring my boat in his honour's little harbour.

It must have been near midnight, and I was wondering how I should waken
the house and deliver my message, when a voice close beside me said,--

"Are the guns all landed and taken up to the house?"

It was his honour's voice. But I could not see him in the dark.

"I beg your pardon, your honour," said I, "it's me, Barry Gallagher."

A quick step came down to where I stood, and a hand was laid on my
shoulder.

"You! What do you here?" said his honour sharply, for he had evidently
expected some one else.

"If you please, sir, my mother's sick, and she sent me to bid you come
before she died."

He made a startled gesture, as I thought, and said, "What does she want
me for?"

"It's to tell your honour s