M’Shane made fast the door, and came up stairs.  She first went to her own room, where poor Kathleen was crying bitterly from shame and excitement.  I had got up when she came into Kathleen’s room for her clothes, and, in about five minutes, they returned together.  I was sitting on the side of the bed when they came in:  the poor girl coloured up when our eyes met.  “Kathleen,” said I, “you have, in all probability, saved my life, and I cannot express my thanks.  I am only sorry that your modesty has been put to so severe a trial.”

“If Corny was to find it out,” replied Kathleen, sobbing again.  “How could I do such a thing!”

“Your mother bid you,” replied Mrs M’Shane, “and that is sufficient.”

“But what must you think of me, sir?” continued Kathleen.

“I think that you have behaved most nobly.  You have saved an innocent man at the risk of your reputation, and the loss of your lover.  It is not now that I can prove my gratitude.”

“Yes, yes, promise me by all that’s sacred, that you’ll never mention it.  Surely you would not ruin one who has tried to serve you.”

“I promise you that, and I hope to perform a great deal more,” replied I.  “But now, Mrs M’Shane, what is to be done?  Remain here I cannot.”

“No; you must leave, and that very soon.  Wait about ten minutes more, and then they will give up their search and go home.  The road to E——­” (the post I had lately come from) “is the best you can take; and you must travel as fast as you can, for there is no safety for you here.”

“I am convinced that rascal M’Dermott will not leave me till he has rid himself of me.”  I then took out my purse, in which I still had nearly twenty guineas.  I took ten of them.  “Mrs M’Shane, I must leave you in charge of my portmanteau, which you may forward by-and-bye, when you hear of my safety.  If I should not be so fortunate, the money is better in your hands than in the hands of those who will murder me.  Kathleen, God bless you! you are a good girl, and Corny O’Toole will be a happy man if he knows your value.”

I then wished Kathleen good-bye, and she allowed me to kiss her without any resistance; but the tears were coursing down her cheeks as I left the room with her mother.  Mrs M’Shane looked carefully out of the windows, holding the light to ascertain if there was anybody near, and, satisfied with her scrutiny, she then opened the door, and calling down the saints to protect me, shook hands with me, and I quitted the house.  It was a dark, cloudy night, and when I first went out, I was obliged to grope, for I could distinguish nothing.  I walked along with a pistol loaded in each hand, and gained, as I thought, the high road to E——­, but I made a sad mistake; and puzzled by the utter darkness and turnings, I took, on the contrary, the road to Mount Castle.  As soon as I was clear of the houses and the enclosure, there was more light, and I could distinguish the road.  I had proceeded