mildly. "They come here and shoot at you; why don't you
go to their cabins and shoot at them?"

"Let them keep their advantage," says Brian, disdainfully. "We shall
conquer at last, no matter how many lives it costs us."

"At all events, they won't get a glimpse of the white feather _here_,"
says the squire, who is looking quite ten years younger. There is
nothing like a row for an Irishman, after all.

"Still, I think I wouldn't sit with my back to that window any more, if
I were you," suggests Mr. Kelly, meekly, seeing the squire has sunk into
his usual seat again.

"It will be a bad winter, I fear," says the squire shaking his head.

"A lively one, no doubt. I quite envy you. I should rather like to stay
here and see you through it. My dear sir, if you and that enormous chair
are inseparables, let me entreat you to move it at least a _little_ to
the left."

"'I love it, I love it, and who shall dare
To chide me from loving this old arm-chair?'"

quotes the squire, with quite a jolly laugh. "Eh? well, Kelly, this is
hardly a pleasant time to ask a fellow on a visit, and I expect you'll
be glad to get back to more civilized parts; but we'll write and tell
you how we're getting on, my lad, from time to time. That is, as long as
we are alive to do it."

"You shall hear of our mishaps," says Brian laughing too.

"It is rather inhospitable of you not to take the hint I have thrown
out," says Kelly, with a faint yawn. "_Won't_ you ask me to spend this
winter with you?"

"My _dear_ fellow, you really mean it?" says Brian, looking at him.

"Oh, yes, I really mean it. Excitement of the sort I have been treated
to to-night seldom comes in my way. I should like to see this affair
through with you."

"You're a brave lad!" says the squire; "but there is always a risk in
this kind of thing, and it is quite probable you will have the roof
burned over your head one of these dark nights to come. You will have to
chance that if you stay, as I intend to persevere with these
blackguardly tenants and fight it out with them to the last."

"To the very last," says Brian, regarding his friend meaningly.

"That's why I'm staying," returns his friend, languidly. Which is half,
but not the whole, truth, as the fact that Mrs. Bohun and her cousin
Hermia are going to spend the winter at Aghyohillbeg has a good deal to
do with it too.

CHAPTER XXVI.

How rations fall short in the enemy's camp; and how Monica, ar