ere!--he's down now! Did you hear that crash?--that was a horse
that fell!"

So it was; Mark had but passed the first party to fall on a much more
formidable body further on, and his horse, twice wounded, was at last
struck in the shoulder, and fell headlong to the ground pinioning the
rider beneath him. With a dexterity that seemed magical, Mark disengaged
himself from the wounded animal, and drawing his pistols, prepared to
sell his life dearly.

"You are a prisoner, sir," called out the sergeant, as with fearless
step he marched towards him.

"Another pace nearer, and I'll send a bullet through you," said Mark;
"you may have my corpse for your booty, but you'll never lay hands on
me living."

"Don't fire, don't fire, men," cried a voice, as the officer rode up
at the speed of his horse, and then throwing himself from the saddle,
commanded the men to fall back. With looks of astonishment and even
of anger, the dragoons retired, while the captain sheathing his sword,
approached Mark.

"Thank heaven, Mr. O'Donoghue, you have not fired at my men."

"Am I your prisoner, Captain Travers?" said Mark, replacing his weapon.

"No, far from it; it was to serve you I accepted the command of this
party. I knew of the plot by which you were threatened--Hemsworth----"

"He is gone to his reckoning now," said Mark, who never gave credit to
Kerry's story.

"Not dead--you do not mean that?"

"Even so, sir, but not as I see you suspect."

"No matter now," cried Travers, wildly, for a thousand dreadful fears
came crowding on his mind; "you must escape at once; this will be worse
than the charge of treason itself. Was there any witness to his death?"

"None," said Mark, for he remembered that Kate was still fainting during
the struggle he believed fatal.

"You must escape at once," repeated Travers, for without directly
attributing guilt to Mark, he feared the consequence of this dreadful
event. "Keep in the mountain for some little time, and when this mad
enterprise has blown over----"

"The country then will be in other hands," interrupted Mark;--"aye, sir,
you may look and feel incredulous, but the time is perhaps not distant
when I may be able to return your present courtesy. The French are
landing----"

"They are putting out to sea--flying--not advancing," said Travers,
proudly.

"No, no, you mistake them," said Mark, with a smile of incredulity.
"I heard the guns not a quarter of an hour since--would I had neve