“What means this violence?” the gentleman asked.  “Why is my house broken into in this way?”

“I arrest you, and all who are in this house,” the officer said, “on the charge of treason.”

“Treason!” the gentleman said, coolly.  “You will find no treason here.  I have a few friends upstairs, who are cracking a bottle of port; but that is not, so far as I am aware, against the law.”

The officer ran upstairs to the room where the others were standing, as if surprised at the tumult, round the table, on which were bottles and half-filled glasses.

“Take the names of all these persons,” the officer said to the sergeant who followed him, “and then convey them in custody to the castle.”

“There is no trouble about their names,” the host said.  “All are well known and peaceful citizens, as can be testified by any magistrate.”

“Where is the man who was with you?” the officer said, looking round.

“There is, so far as I am aware, no one in the house, sir, beyond these gentlemen and my domestics.”

“It is a lie!” the officer exclaimed, furiously.  “A man was seen to enter this house, an hour and a half ago, and no one has left since.”

“A young man!  Oh, I suppose you mean the young fellow who brought me a message from my cousin, at Waterford, and who called to ask if I had yet found him any employment.  Oh yes, he has been here, but left some time ago, unless he is chatting with the maids in the kitchen.”

The officer directed a rigorous search to be made of the house.  The soldiers soon reported that every nook and corner had been examined, but that no one was to be found.  At this moment, a shot was fired in the street, and a sergeant ran in.

“Captain Peters bid me say, sir, that they have just caught sight of a man on the roof of a house, some distance along the street.”

“Take the prisoners to the castle, under a strong guard, sergeant.  You will be answerable for their safety,” the officer exclaimed, as he ran downstairs.

Directly the trap closed behind him, Walter—­sure that some minutes would pass before the method of his escape was known—­tore the blankets he had brought with him into wide strips, tied the ends together, and twisted them up into the form of a rope; then, coiling this over his arm, he made his way along the roofs.  The street below was now a mass of people.  The report that a Popish plot had been discovered, and that a number of important arrests had been made, spread quickly, as the soldiers were seen gathered round the house.  The news was sufficient to stir up party feelings, and the mob which collected soon set up the shout which had, of late, been so often raised in the streets of Dublin—­“Down with the Papists!”

Soon the crashing of glass was heard, as stones were hurled at the dwellings of known Catholics.  Walter, anxious for the safety of Larry, who was, he knew, somewhere without, tried to look down into the street to see what was going on, believing that in the darkness he could not be seen.  The flash of a musket, and the whistle of a ball close to him, showed him that his figure had been seen against the skyline.