watch over
your precious life?--or do you think your claims are stronger with the
other party, that you only swore to massacre? Where's the sympathy and
protection to come from? Tell me that, for I'm curious on the point."

Lanty turned a fierce look upon him--his eyeballs glared, and his nether
lip shook convulsively, while his hands were firmly clenched together.
Hemsworth watched these evidences of growing anger, but without seeming
to regard them, when the key grated roughly in the lock, the door
opened, and the gaoler called out, with a savage attempt at laughter--

"Time's up. I must turn you off, sir."

"A short reprieve," said Hemsworth, humouring the ruffian jest, and he
pitched his purse into the fellow's hand.

"To settle family matters, I suppose," said the turnkey, with a grin, as
he retired, and closed the door once more.

The interruption seemed to offer a favourable opportunity to Hemsworth
of giving an amicable turn to the interview, for with a changed voice,
and a look of well-assumed friendship, he said--

"I have misspent my moments here sadly, Lanty. I came to befriend you,
and not to interchange words of angry meaning. If I had been in Dublin,
I'm certain you would never have fallen into this perilous position.
Let us see how best to escape from it. This information--I see it is all
confined to young O'Donoghue's business--is of no value whatever, until
signed by you. It is just as if it were never spoken. So that, if you
steadily determine not to sign it, you need give no reason whatever, but
simply refuse when asked. Do this, and all's safe."

"Couldn't they transport me?" said Lanty, in a feeble voice, but whose
very accent betrayed the implicit trust he reposed in Hemsworth's
answer.

"They'll threaten that, and worse, too; but never flinch; they've
nothing against you save, your own evidence. When the time comes--mark
me, I say, when the time comes--your evidence is worth five thousand
pounds; but, now, all it will do is convict young O'Donoghue, and warn
all the others not to go forward. I don't suppose you want that; the
young fellow never did you any harm."

"Never," said Lanty, dropping his head with shame, for even in such a
presence his conscience smote him.

"Very well--there's no use in bringing him to trouble. Keep your own
counsel, and all will be well."

"I'm just thinking of a plan I've a notion in my head will do well,"
said Lanty, musingly. "I'm to see Father Kearney