Walter looked in that direction, and saw a broad glare of light.

“Ride out, and bring in the advanced sentry,” he said, “as quick as possible.”

He called the other men out, and bade them mount; that done, they sat, ready to ride off on the return of their comrades.

“Here they come, sir,” one of the men said, “and I fancy the enemy are after them.”

Walter listened intently.  He could hear a deep thundering noise, which was certainly made by the hoofs of more than two horses.

“Face about, men, trot!  Keep your horses well in hand, until the others come up, and then ride for it.

“Ah, what is that!”

As he spoke, there was a shout from the other end of the village, followed instantly by the trampling of horses.

“They have surrounded us!” Walter exclaimed.  “Shoulder to shoulder, lads, and cut your way through.  It’s our only chance.  Charge!”

And, placing himself at the head, he set spurs to his horse and dashed at the approaching enemy.

There was a fierce shock.  A horse and rider rolled over from the impetus of his charge, then he cut right and left; pistol shots rang out, and his horse fell beneath him, shot through the head, pinning his leg beneath it.

The fall saved his life, for four or five troopers had surrounded him, and in another moment he would have been cut down.  For a time, he ran great risk of being trampled upon, in the confusion which followed.  Then some of the troopers dismounted, he was dragged from beneath his horse, and found himself a prisoner.  He was placed in the centre of the troop, the only captive taken, for two of the six men had got safe away in the darkness and confusion, the other four had fallen.

The English, as he afterwards learned, had, immediately they arrived at Kilcowan, inquired where the Irish cavalry, who had taken part in the afternoon’s fight, were quartered, and on hearing that they were but two miles away, the officer in command had forced one of the peasants to act as guide, and to take a party round, by a detour, so as to enter at the other end of the village, just as another party rode in by the direct road.

Walter was taken first to Kilcowan.  There he found a party of twelve or fourteen peasants, surrounded by cavalry.  The whole village was in flames.  Several of the inhabitants had been cut down, as the cavalry entered.  The rest, with the exception of those in the hands of the troops, had fled in the darkness.  As soon as the detachment with Walter arrived, the whole body got into motion, and reached Ginckle’s camp shortly before midnight.

As the general had retired to sleep, they were placed in a tent, and four sentries posted round it, with orders to shoot anyone who showed his head outside.  In the morning, they were ordered to come out, and found outside the general, with several of his officers.

“So,” Ginckle said, “you are the fellows who attacked my soldiers.  I will teach you a lesson which shall be remembered all over Ireland.  You shall be broken on the wheel.”