ed energy, the doctor sped along the road at a canter,
which threatened annihilation to the frail vehicle at every bound of the
animal.

"Five hundred!" muttered Sir Marmaduke to himself, as he looked after
him. "I'd give half my fortune to see him safe through it."

Meanwhile Roach proceeded on his way, speculating on all the gain this
fortunate meeting might bring to him, and then meditating what reasons
he should allege to the O'Donoghue for his speedy return.

"I'll tell him a lucky thought struck me in the glen," muttered he;
"or, what! if I said I forgot something--a pocket-book, or case of
instruments--any thing will do;" and, with this comfortable reflection,
he urged his beast onward.

The night was falling as he once more ascended the steep and narrow
causeway, which led to the old keep; and here, now, Kerry O'Leary was
closing the heavy but time-worn gate, and fastening it with many a bolt
and bar, as though aught within could merit so much precaution. The
sound of wheels seemed suddenly to have caught the huntsman's ear, for
he hastily shut down the massive hasp that secured the bar of the gate,
and as quickly opened a little latched window, which, barred with iron,
resembled the grated aperture of a convent door.

[Illustration: 127]

"You're late this time, any how," cried Kerry. "Tramp back again,
friend, the way you came; and be thankful it's myself seen you; for,
by the blessed Father, if it was Master Mark was here, you'd carry away
more lead in your skirts than you'd like."

"What, Kerry?--what's that you're saying?" said the astonished doctor;
"don't you know me, man?"

"Kerry's my name, sure enough; but artful as you are, you'll just keep
the other side of the door. Be off now, in God's name. 'Tis a fair
warning I give you; and faix if you won't listen to my son, you might
hear worse;" and as he spoke, that ominous sound, the click of a
gun-cock, was heard, and the muzzle of a carbine peeped between the iron
bars.

"Tear-and-ounds! ye scoundrel! you're not going to fire a bullet at me?"

"'Tis slugs they are," was the reply, as Kerry adjusted the piece, and
seemed to take as good an aim as the darkness permitted; "divil a more
nor slugs, as you'll know soon. I'll count three, now, and may I never
wear boots, if I don't blaze, if you're not gone before it's over.
Here's one," shouted he, in a louder key.

"The saints protect me, but I'll be murdered," muttered old Roach,
blessing himsel