through the means of
that murdering blow, I shall hunt Shawn-na-Middogue to the death."

"Will you take a friend's advice?" replied Barney: "we all of us wish,
of coorse, to die a Christian death upon our beds, that we may think
of the sins we have committed, and ask the pardon of our Saviour and
inthersessor for them. I say, then, if you wish to die such a death,
and to have time to repent of your sins, avoid coming across
Shawn-na-Middogue above all men in the world. I tell you this as a
friend, and now you're warned."

Woodward paused, and his face became black with a spirit of vengeance.

"How does it happen, Casey," he asked, "that you are able to give
me such a warning? You must have some particular information on the
subject."

"The only information I have on the subject is this--that you are set
down among most people as the man who destroyed Grace Davoren, and not
your brother; Shawn believes this, and on that account, I say, it
will be well for you to avoid him. He believes, too, that you have her
concealed somewhere--although I don't think so; but if you have, Mr.
Woodward, it would be an act of great kindness--an act becomin' both
a gentleman and a Christian--to restore the unfortunate girl to her
parents."

"I know no more about her than you do, Casey. How could I? Perhaps my
poor brother, when he is capable of it, may be able to afford us some
information on the subject. As it is I know nothing of it, but I shall
leave nothing undone to recover her if she be alive, or if the thing can
be accomplished. In the meantime all I can think of is the relapse of
my poor brother. Until he gets better I shall not be able to fix my mind
upon anything else. What is Grace Davoren or Shaivn-nu-Middogue--the
accursed scoundrel--to me, so long as my dear Charles is in a state of
danger?"

"Now," said he, when they parted "now to work earth and hell to secure
Shaum-na-Middogue. He has got my secret concerning the girl Davoren, and
I feel that while he is at large I cannot be safe. There is a reward for
his head, whether alive or dead, but that I scorn. In the meantime, I
shall not lose an hour in getting together a band who will scour the
country along with myself, until we secure him. After that I shall be at
perfect liberty to work out my plans without either fear of, or danger
from, this murdering ruffian."

CHAPTER XVIII. The Toir, or Tory Hunt.

Harry Woodward now began to apprehend that, as the read