k on this one," said I, still gazing on the paper in my
hand; "it looks like blood."

"If it is, it 's mine, then," said Darby, doggedly. And after a pause,
he continued: "The soldier galloped up the very minute I was stooping
for the papers. He called out to me to give them up; but I pretended not
to hear, and took a long look round to see what way I could escape where
his horse could n't follow me. But he saw what I was at; and the same
instant his sabre was in my shoulder, and the blood running hot down my
arm. I fell on my knees; but if I did, I took this from my breast" (here
he drew forth a long-barrelled rusty pistol), "and shot him through the
neck."

[Illustration: Darby Exchanges Compliments with a "Sodger" 188]

"Was he killed?" said I, in horror at the coolness of the recital.

"Sorrow one o' me knows. He fell on his horse's mane, and I saw the
beast gallop with him up the road with his arms hanging at each side of
the neck. And then I heard a crash, and I saw that he was down, and the
horse was dragging him by the stirrup; but the dust soon hid him from
my sight. And indeed I was growing weak too; so I crept into the bushes
until it was dark, and then got down to Glencree."

The easy indifference with which he spoke, the tone of coolness in which
he narrated this circumstance, thrilled through me far more painfully
than the most passionate description; and I stood gazing on him with a
feeling of dread that unhappily my features but too plainly indicated.
He seemed to know what was passing in my mind; and as if stung by what
he deemed my ingratitude for the service he had rendered me, his face
grew darkly red, the swollen veins stood out thick and knotted in his
forehead, his livid lips quivered, and he said in a thick, guttural
voice,--

"Maybe ye think I murdered him?" And then, as I made no answer, he
resumed in a different tone: "And faix, ye war n't long larnin' their
lessons. But hear me now: there never was a traitor to the cause had a
happy life or an easy death; there never was one betrayed us but we were
revenged on him or his. I don't think ye 're come to that yet; for if I
did, by the mortial--"

As he pronounced the last word, in a tone of the fiercest menace, the
sound of many voices talking without, and the noise of a key turning
in the lock, broke in upon our colloquy; and Darby had scarcely time
to resume his disguise when Bubbleton entered, followed by three of his
brother officers,