belonged. They proceeded in the same way, still maintaining
a silence that was fearful and ominous, for about a mile and a half.
Whilst proceeding, they met several persons on the road, every one of
whom they stopped and interrogated as to his name and residence, after
which they allowed them to pass on.

"Why do they! stop and examine the people they meet?" whispered one of
them a young lad about nineteen--to him who had just warned McCarthy.

"Why," said the other, "is it possible you don't know that? It's aisy
seen you're but young in the business yet."

"This is my first night to be out," replied the youth.

"Well, then," rejoined our friend, "it's in the expectation of meetin'
an enemy, especially some one that's _marked_."

"An' what would they do if they did?"

"_Do_? said the other; "_do for him!_. If they met sich a one, they'd
take care his supper wouldn't cost him much."

"Blood alive!" exclaimed the young fellow. "I'm afeard this is a bad
business."

"Faith, an' if it is, it's only beginnin'," said the other, "but whether
good or bad the counthry requires it, an' the Millstone must be got rid
of."

"What's the Millstone?"

"The Protestant church. The man that won't join us to put it down, must
be looked upon and treated as an enemy to his country--that is, if he is
a Catholic."

"I have no objection to that," replied the youth, "but I don't like to
see lives taken or blood shed; murdher's awful."

"You must set it down, then," replied the other, "that both will happen,
ay, an' that you must yourself shed blood and take life when it
come your turn. Howanever, that will soon come aisy to you; a little
practice, and two or three opportunities of seeing the thing done, an'
you'll begin to take delight in it."

"And do you now?" asked the unsophisticated boy, with a quivering of the
voice which proceeded from a shudder.

"Why, no," replied the other, still in a whisper, for in this tone the
dialogue was necessarily continued; "not yet, at any rate; but if it
came my turn to take a life I should either do it, or lose my own some
fine night."

"Upon my conscience," whispered the lad, "I can't help thinkin' that
it's a bad business, and won't end well."

"Ay, but the general opinion is, that if we get the Millstone from about
our necks, a few lives taken on their side, and a few boys hanged on
ours, won't make much difference one way or other, and then everything
will end well. That's the way of