mazement. Then the speaker went on,--

"Sure, all's fair in war. The girl's safe enough." [Here Martin
laughed in a sinister fashion.] "And now that all is settled up with
Maurice Gorman at last--"

"Is Maurice Gorman dead, then?" asked Tim, controlling himself with a
mighty effort, as was plain by his white lips and flashing eyes.

"He is so. We had him watched day and night, and on Sunday came our
chance. He's gone to his account; and it's not six hours since he was
put out of harm's way under the turf. By Saint Patrick, but it's a
grand day for Ireland this."

"And you mean to tell me," said Tim, in a voice which made his hearers
shift on their feet uncomfortably--"you mean to tell me that you dare to
commit murder and outrage like this in the name of Ireland?"

"Why, what's amiss? Wasn't it yourself was saying with your own lips
the Gorman was a dirty coward?" retorted one of the group testily.

"And that means the same to you as saying a man should be shot in the
dark without a word of warning, and his innocent daughter carried off,
who never did a hand's turn in the place that wasn't kindly and good?"

Guess who it was that loved Tim as he spoke those words?

"It's no time to be squeamish," persisted the man who had first spoken.
"It's a blow for the good of the country, and there's them will give us
credit for it, if you don't."

"You curs! I give you credit for being the meanest cowards unhung. And
I don't mind telling anybody as much. Pray, is it you and the like of
you I'm captain to?"

"When we chose you, we thought you were for the people," snarled Martin.

"Then take back your choice, you crew of blackguards," cried Tim, now in
a towering rage. "I've nothing to do with such as you. No more has
Ireland, thank God!"

"That's well enough," said Finn savagely; "but what's done is done, and
in your name too, whether you like it or not. You should have let us
know in time if your stomach wasn't strong enough for the work."

"My name! The girl carried away in my name, and her father murdered.
How dare you, you dirty whelp, you!"

And he struck Finn across the cheek with his hand.

Instantly the scene became one of wild uproar. The blow was all the men
had wanted to give vent to the bitter resentment which Tim's
contemptuous reproaches had called up. As long as the quarrel was one
of words, they were sullen but cowed. Now it was come to blows, events
befell rapidly. Ere I could pu