his spare horse, and, leading
it, rode out to the hut again.

"Has anyone been here?" he asked Mike.

"Not a soul, sir."

"Take the horses into the wood, then, and stay with them for the
present. It will not be safe for the earl to move for a couple of
hours.

"Now, General," he went on, as he removed the firewood, "I fear
that you have been very uncomfortable."

"I can hardly say that I have been comfortable, sir, but that is
of no consequence. The pain in my leg has abated, since you cut
the boot open.

"And now, how can I express my gratitude to you, for thus
sheltering me?"

"It is but a fair return of services, sir. You gave me my liberty,
and I am doing my best to restore yours to you."

"It is all very well to say that, Captain Kennedy. I am the
general in command of the British forces in Portugal, and had I
chosen to openly release you, none could have questioned me. It
was only because some magnified report of the affair might have
reached the ears of the Portuguese Government, and given rise to
rumours hostile to me, that I thought it best to let it appear to
be an accidental escape. You see, I am by no means popular with
the Portuguese. In the first place, I am a Protestant; and in the
next place, I am constantly bringing pressure to bear upon them,
as to the supply of provisions, the making of roads, the proper
feeding and arming of their own troops, and other matters of the
same kind; and they would be only too glad to have some cause of
complaint against me.

"But your case is altogether different, for you are risking even
your life in thus aiding me to escape."

"That may be, General, but it was nevertheless my duty, as a
matter of conscience, to endeavour to return the kindness that you
showed me; and as, at present, your army will hardly be in a state
to take the field against us for a long time, I do not feel that I
am seriously injuring our cause."

"Well, sir, I shall be your debtor for life.

"Do you intend to remain always an exile, Captain Kennedy?" the
Earl of Galway went on. "It seems to me little short of madness
that so many gallant gentlemen should cut themselves altogether
adrift from their native country, and pass their lives fighting as
mercenaries. I do not use the word offensively, but only in its
proper meaning, of foreigners serving in the army of a nation not
their own. Nor do I mean to insult Irish gentlemen, by even
hinting that they serve simply for pay. They fig