"Now we will drop down," Desmond said, and, setting the example,
lowered himself till he hung by his hands, and then dropped. Mike
was soon beside him.

"What shall we do next?"

"We will go and knock boldly at the door; but before we do that,
we will unbar the gate and shoot the bolt of the lock. We have no
idea how many men there may be in the house. Maybe we shall have
to beat a retreat."

The lock was shot without difficulty, but the bolts were still
fast, and were not drawn without noise. They pushed back the last
of these, and then opened the gates, which creaked noisily as they
did so.

"They can hardly help hearing that," Desmond muttered; and indeed,
as he spoke, the door of the house opened suddenly, and five men
came out, two of them holding torches. A man, who seemed to be the
leader of the party, uttered an exclamation of fury as the light
fell upon the figures of the two men at the open gate.

"Cut the villains down!" he shouted.

"Stop!" Desmond cried, in a loud voice. "I am an officer of
O'Brien's regiment of foot. I heard a scream, and a woman's cry
for help, and, fearing that foul play was going on, I made my
entry here."

The man, who had drawn his sword, paused.

"You have done wrong, sir. The cries you heard were those of a mad
woman. You had better withdraw at once. I shall report you,
tomorrow, for having forcibly made an entrance into private
premises."

"That you are perfectly at liberty to do," Desmond replied
quietly; "but certainly I shall not withdraw, until I see this
lady, and ascertain from herself whether your story is a true
one."

"Then your blood be on your own head!" the man said.

"At them, men! you know your orders--to kill anyone who attempted
to interfere with us, no matter what his rank."

The five men rushed together upon the intruders.

"Hold the gate, Mike," Desmond said, "and they cannot get behind
us."

They stepped back a pace or two, and drew their swords. The
position was a favourable one, for the two halves of the gate
opened inwards, and so protected them from any but an attack in
front. The leader rushed at Desmond, but the latter guarded the
sweeping blow he dealt at him, and at the first pass ran him
through the body; but the other four men, enraged rather than
daunted by the fall of their leader, now rushed forward together,
and one of them, drawing a pistol, fired at Desmond when within
three paces.

The latter threw his head on one side,