to his reflections, immediately directed his steps to her house, and, with her connivance, changed the dress he had on for one which she had taken from Reilly’s wardrobe.  He then went to the house of the nobleman where the sheriff was dining, but arrived only in time to hear that he was about to take horse on his return home.  On seeing him preparing to mount, bearing a lantern in his hand, as the night was dark and the roads bad, he instantly changed his purpose as to the letter, and came to the resolution of not delivering it at all.

“I can easily say,” thought he, “that the sheriff had gone home before I came, and that will be a very sufficient excuse.  In the meantime,” he added, “I will cross the country and be out on the road before him.”

The sheriff was not unarmed, however, and felt himself tolerably well prepared for any attack that might be made on him; and, besides, he was no coward.  After a ride of about two miles he found himself stopped, and almost at the same instant the lantern that he carried was knocked out of his hand and extinguished, but not until he caught a faint glimpse of the robber’s person, who, from his dress, appeared to be a man much above the common class.  Quick as lightning he pulled out one of his pistols, and, cocking it, held himself in readiness.  The night was dark, and this preparation for self-defence was unknown to his assailant.  On feeling the reins of his horse’s bridle in the hands of the robber, he snapped the pistol at his head, but alas! it only flashed in the pan.  The robber, on the other hand, did not seem anxious to take his life, for it was a principle among the Rapparees to shed, while exercising their rapacious functions, as little blood as possible.  They have frequently taken life from a feeling of private vengeance, but not often while robbing on the king’s highway.  The sheriff, now finding that one pistol had missed, was about to draw out the second, when he was knocked insensible off his horse, and on recovering found himself minus the fines which he had that day levied—­all the private cash about him—­and his case of pistols.  This indeed was a bitter incident to him; because, in addition to the loss of his private purse and firearms—­which he valued as nothing—­he knew that he was responsible to government for the amount of the fines.

With considerable difficulty he was able to remount his horse, and with a sense of stupor, which was very painful, he recommenced his journey home.  After a ride of about two miles he met three horsemen, who immediately challenged him and demanded his name and residence.

“I am the sheriff of the county,” he replied, “and have been robbed of a large sum of money and my pistols; and now,” he added, “may I beg to know who you are, and by what authority you demand my name and residence?”

“Excuse us, Mr. Sheriff,” they replied; “we belong to the military detachment which government has placed under the control of Sir Robert Whitecraft.”