lonel John made a sign to the priest, who, bowing himself on the wet
sod, covered his eyes with his hand and began to pray. The men, at a
sign from O'Sullivan, had drawn to either side, and the firelock-men
were handling their pieces, with one eye on their leader and one on the
prisoners.

Colonel John took Bale's hand. "What matter, soon or late?" he said
gently "Here, or on our beds we die in our duty. Let us say, _In
manus tuas_----"

"Popish! Popish!" Bale muttered, shaking his head. He spoke hoarsely,
his tongue cleaving to his mouth. His eyes were full of rage.

"Into Thy hands!" Colonel John said. He stooped nearer to his man's
ear. "When I shout, jump and run!" he breathed. "I will hold two."
Again he lifted his head and looked calmly at the threatening figures
standing about them, gaunt and dark, against the curtain of mist. They
were waiting for the signal. The priest was half way through his second
Paternoster. His trembling tongue was stumbling, lagging more and more.
As he ended it--the two men still standing hand in hand--Colonel John
gripped Bale's fingers hard, but held him.

"What is that?" he cried, in a loud voice--but still he held Bale tight
that he might not move. "What is that?" he repeated. On the ear--on his
ear first--had fallen the sound of hurrying feet.

They strained their eyes through the mist.

"And what'll this be?" O'Sullivan Og muttered suspiciously, looking
first in the direction of the sound, and then, still more suspiciously,
at his prisoners. "If you budge a step," he growled, "I'll drive this
pike----"

"A messenger from The McMurrough," Colonel John said, speaking as
sternly as if he and not The McMurrough's henchman commanded the party.
If he was human, as indeed he was, if his heart, at the hope of
respite, beat upon his ribs as the heart of a worse man might have
beaten, he did not betray it save by a light in his eyes. "You will see
if I am not right," he added.

They had not to wait. As he spoke a tall, lathy form emerged from the
mist. It advanced with long leaps, the way they had come. A moment, and
the messenger saw them--almost as soon as they had seen him. He pulled
up, and walked the intervening distance, his arms drooping, and his
breath coming in gasps. He had run apace, and he could not speak. But
he nodded--as he wiped the saliva from his parted lips--to O'Sullivan
Og to come aside with him; and the two moved off a space. The others
eyed them while the me