a soldier's trappings, and drink health to
her Majesty and Captain Merriman."

A week passed before Tom Price got his company together. I chafed and
grumbled at every hour that passed. On the day before we set out, I
went to show myself in my soldier's bravery to Will Peake, on London
Bridge.

"Every man to his taste," said the latter. "I think thee not as fine as
thou thinkest thyself. By the way, thou art like to have knocks enough
where thou goest, I hear, for news is come that the Spaniards mean to
land on Irish shore, and strike at us from that quarter."

This was great news to me; and on every hand I heard it repeated, till,
at nightfall, there was something near a panic in London, and orders
were given for all troops possible to set out forthwith. Therefore, Tom
Price, though his company still wanted a few of its number, bade us be
within call and ready spurred at daybreak.

The road from London to Chester was full of straggling companies of
soldiers, hastened forward like us by the alarm of the Spanish attack on
Ireland. We, being mounted, distanced most of them. And so eager were
the country folk along the march to see our backs, that, had we been
minded to tarry long in any place, we should have soon outworn our
welcome.

I saw little of Tom Price during the early part of our march. But when,
presently, he had leisure to gossip, he told me one piece of news which
moved me not a little.

It was that Sorley Boy, being now an old man and broken down in spirit,
longed for his lost son, Sir Ludar, as eagerly as he had hated him not
long since. He lived a restless life at Dunluce, often and again
stalking abroad as of old, and seeming to expect him who was lost. He
had even made friends with Turlogh; and the only time that Captain
Merriman had hung his head and slunk out of Castleroe, said Tom, was
when the Lord of Dunluce came thither to visit his new ally. So long as
he stayed, the Captain found business elsewhere.

Sorley Boy, when at Castleroe, saw the maiden, who, after what had
passed, scarcely durst meet him. But by degrees her sweet, brave ways
took the old man captive, and, ere he left, he knew her whole story, and
loved her as if she were indeed already his daughter.

He well-nigh broke his truce with the O'Neill, because he would not
permit the maid to visit Dunluce; for Turlogh (dreading, perhaps, the
ill graces of the Captain), would not part with her from Castleroe. So
Sorley Boy