ssage was given. The suspense was short. Quickly
O'Sullivan Og came back.

"Ye may be thankful," he said drily. "Ye've cheated the pikes for this
time, no less. And 'tis safe ye are."

"You have the greater reason to be thankful," Colonel John replied
solemnly. "You have been spared a foul crime."

"Faith, and I hope I may never do worse," Og answered hardily, "than
rid the world of two black Protestants, an' them with a priest to make
their souls! Many's the honest man's closed his eyes without that same.
But 'tis no time for prating! I wonder at your honour, and you no more
than out of the black water! Bring them along, boys," he continued,
"we've work to do yet!"

"_Laus Deo!_" the priest cried, lifting up his hands. "Give Him the
glory!"

"Amen," the Colonel said softly. And for a moment he shut his eyes and
stood with clasped hands. Perhaps even his courage was hardly proof
against so sudden, so late a respite. He looked with a hardly repressed
shudder on the dreary face of the bog, on the gleaming water, on the
dripping furze bushes. "I thank you kindly, father, for your prayers!"
he said. "The words of a good man avail much!"

No more was said. For a few yards Bale walked unsteadily, shaken by his
escape from a death the prospect of which had evoked as much rage as
fear. But he recovered himself speedily, and, urged by O'Sullivan's
continual injunctions to hasten, the party were not long in retracing
their steps. They reached the road, and went along it, but in the
direction of the landing-place. In a few minutes they were threading
their way in single file across the saucer-like waste which lay to
landward of the hill overlooking the jetty and the inlet.

"Are you taking us to the French sloop?" Colonel John asked.

"You'll be as wise as the lave of us by-and-by!" Og answered sulkily.

They crossed the shoulder near the tower, which loomed uncertainly
through the fog, and they strode down the slope to the stone pier. The
mist lay low on the water, and only the wet stones of the jetty, and a
boat or two floating in the angle between the jetty and the shore, were
visible. The tide was almost at the flood. Og bade the men draw in one
of the boats, ordered Colonel Sullivan and Bale to go into the bow, and
the pikemen to take the oars. He and the two firelock-men--the
messenger had vanished--took their seats in the stern.

"Pull out, you cripples," he said. "And be pulling stout, and there'll
be flood eno