Walter fell almost instantaneously off to sleep, and it was late in the afternoon before he woke.

“I am afraid I must have slept a long time,” he said, sitting up.

“You have had a fine sleep, surely,” one of the men replied; “and it’s dinner and supper, all in one, that you will have.”

Walter found his uniform and underclothes neatly folded up by his side, and speedily dressed himself.

“That sleep has done me a world of good,” he said.  “I feel quite myself again.”

“That’s right, yer honour.  When you’ve had your food, I will make a shift to dress that wound at the back of yer head.  Be jabbers, it’s a hard knock you have had, and a mighty lot of blood you must have lost!  Yer clothes was just stiff with it; but I washed most of it out.

“And now, lads, off with the pot!”

A large pot was hanging over the fire, and, when the lid was taken off, a smell very pleasant to Walter’s nostrils arose.  Four flat pieces of wood served the purpose of plates, and, with a large spoon of the same material, the man who had brought Walter to the hut, and who appeared to be the leader of the party, ladled out portions of the contents.  These consisted of rabbit and pieces of beef, boiled up with potatoes and onions.  A large jug filled with water, and a bottle of spirits were placed in the centre, with the horn which Walter had before used beside it.

“We are short of crockery,” the man said with a laugh.  “Here are some knives, but as for forks, we just have to do without them.”

Walter enjoyed his meal immensely.  After it was finished, the wooden platters were removed, and the jug replenished.

“Now, your honour, will you tell us how you got away from the Protestant rebels, and how was it they didn’t make short work of you, when they caught you?  It’s a puzzle to us entirely, for the Enniskilleners spare neither man, woman, nor child.”

Walter related the whole circumstances of his capture, imprisonment, and escape.

“You fooled them nicely,” the man said, admiringly.  “Sure your honour’s the one to get out of a scrape—­and you little more than a boy.”

“And what are you doing here?” Walter asked, in return.  “This seems a wild place to live in.”

“It’s just that,” the man said.  “We belonged to Kilbally.  The Enniskilleners came that way, and burned it to the ground.  They murdered my wife and many another one.  I was away cutting peat with my wife’s brother here.  When we came back, everything was gone.  A few had escaped to the bogs, where they could not be followed; the rest was, every mother’s son of them, killed by those murdering villains.  Your honour may guess what we felt, when we got back.  Thank God I had no children!  We buried the wife in the garden behind the house, and then started away and joined a band of rapparees, and paid some of them back in their own coin.  Then, one day, the Enniskilleners fell on us, and most of us were killed.  Then we made our way back to the old village, and came up here and built us this hut.  It’s a wonder to us how you got here; for there are bogs stretching away in all directions, and how you made your way through them bates us entirely.”