s as we can. Look
out for this Magill--a tall fellow in a soft felt hat. I would give
fifty pounds to land that fellow safe and sound in Kilmainham."

As Launce listens a furious anger stirs within him--a rage so strong
that it is as much as he can do to refrain from springing out upon the
cowardly speaker. He knows the man now--he would recognize those smooth
false tones among a thousand--it is Mr. Hunter, Mrs. Dundas's guest and
friend, the man whom from the first he has disliked and distrusted. A
horrible suspicion, a chill doubt, makes him shake from head to foot.
Did Kate know of this? Could it be that the woman he loved had seen him
go out, a predestined victim, so that this spy might lodge one or two
more rebels in Kilmainham jail? A bitter word breaks from his lips as
he thinks of it. This poor girl--for now that the police have passed
Patsy has reappeared, like a phantom, out of the darkness--in her
ignorance and helplessness has been more true to him than the woman he
has loved so passionately.

"You have saved my life, Patsy, and I'll not forget it; but I'm not
sure that it would not have been better for me to have gone on in my
ignorance and taken my chance!" he says grimly.

"The saints be thanked!" the girl answers solemnly. "I have done what I
said I would do, and my heart is aisy this night!"

CHAPTER VII.

A chill gray dawn is breaking when Honor Blake opens her eyes. She is
in bed in her own room, and her father is siting beside her, watchful
and anxious. At first she wonders to see him there, then slowly a dim
sense of pain and fear comes back to her.

"You are better?" he says cheerily. "That's right! I'll go away now,
and you'll get a sleep; but Aileen shall stay in the room, in case you
should feel faint again."

"Faint?" she repeats, with a smile. "Have I been faint then?"

"Faith and you have, my dear! I never knew any one stay so long in a
swoon before. I half thought you were dead when I saw you first; but
you are better now, and we'll talk no more about it."

As he rises, she sees that he carries his left arm in a sling and that
he looks tired and pale. Then suddenly every detail of the past night
comes back to her, and she feels for a few seconds as if she should
sink back into unconsciousness again.

"It's nothing--a mere scratch; but they insisted on dressing it up like
this!" her father cries hastily, seeing the change that has crept into
her face. "No one is much hurt but