wrung it, and then turned and left the
room. Neal stood for a while dazed and bewildered. He had known before
that his father was a supporter of the United Irishmen. He had guessed,
though until that morning he had not actually known, how deeply he was
versed in the secrets of the society. He had never imagined that the
doings and sayings of an obscure Presbyterian minister were being
watched and noted by Government spies. He found it hard to realise that
the eyes of remote authorities, of secretaries of state, of generals of
armies, were fixed on the wind-swept, desolate, northern parish, on
the gaunt, grey manse he called his home. Yet the evidence of this
incredible surveillance was plain and unmistakable. Men of his father's
congregation, men whom he supposed he knew personally, were to be
seized and marched off, to be flogged perhaps as others had been, to be
imprisoned certainly, to be hanged very likely, in the end. His father
was a marked man, with the choice before him of exile or imprisonment,
perhaps death. He himself was suspected, had been informed against, lied
about, by someone. His mind flew back to the list of names he had copied
out that morning, to the one name which had arrested his attention
especially. He remembered that James Finlay owed him a grudge, desired
revenge; he felt sure that James Finlay was the informer. Others might
have betrayed the secrets of the society. James Finlay alone, so far as
he could recollect, had any motive for incriminating him, an entirely
innocent man.

He was roused from his thoughts by the sound of horses trampling on the
gravel sweep outside. The yeomen, summoned from Ballintoy, had arrived
at Dunseveric House. They were laughing, talking, and singing as they
rode, a disorderly mob of horsemen rather than a troop of soldiers.
After a few minutes they rode past the window again. Captain Twinely was
at their head. Ten or twelve yards in front of him, as if disdainful of
his company, rode Lord Dunseveric and Maurice.

They were wrapped in long horsemen's cloaks, for the rain beat down on
them. The wind was rising, and blew in strong gusts. The sun had set and
the evening was beginning to darken. Neal ran down to the hall, seized
his coat and stick, and went out. The horsemen moved along the avenue
at a steady trot. Neal saw them turn to the right and go along the road
which led to the manse and the meeting-house. He started to run across
the fields. He hoped to reac