While Mrs. Conyers entertained the two elder officers, Walter naturally fell to the share of her daughter, and the two soon became great friends, wandering in the grounds, and sometimes riding together when Walter was not engaged with the troop.  The news came daily of the movements of William’s army, and when it approached, Captain Davenant’s troop went far out to observe its movements, and obtain an accurate idea of its strength.

It was late in the evening when they returned, and Captain Davenant said at supper: 

“This is our last meal with you, Mrs. Conyers.  We leave at daybreak, and a few hours afterwards William’s army will arrive before Limerick.  We shall be the losers, but you will be the gainer if, as you suppose, Mr. Conyers is with them.”

“I shall be really sorry for your going, Captain Davenant.  It seemed a terrible thing having a troop of hostile horse quartered upon one; but in reality it has been a pleasant operation, rather than not, and I have felt safer than I have done for months.  I do hope that when these troubles are over we shall renew our acquaintance, and that you will give my husband an opportunity of thanking you for the kindness with which you have treated us.”

“The thanks should be on my side,” Captain Davenant said.  “You have made what promised to be an unpleasant duty a most pleasant one.  Our stay here has been like a visit at a friend’s, and I regret deeply that it has to come to an end, a regret which I am sure Lieutenant O’Moore and my son share.”

“We do, indeed,” the lieutenant said.

Walter and Claire Conyers said nothing.  They had talked it over early that morning before the troop started, and Walter had expressed his deep regret that their pleasant time was at an end; and, although the girl had said little, she was far less bright and happy than might have been expected, considering that upon the following day she should probably see her father.

Captain Davenant’s troop rode off at daybreak, kept down the Shannon to Limerick, and, crossing the bridge, entered the city, and received orders there to take up their quarters in a village some four miles up the river.  Thus, they were less than a mile distant from Mrs. Conyers’ house, although separated from it by the Shannon; and from an eminence near the village, the roof and chimneys of the mansion could be seen rising above the trees by which it was surrounded.

During the day, the sound of the firing before Limerick could be plainly heard; but little attention was paid to it, for it was certain that no attack could be made in earnest upon the town, until the battering artillery came up, and there was but little hope that the cavalry would be called up for any active service at present.

After dinner, Walter strolled out to the eminence, and looked across towards the house where he had spent so happy a time, and wondered whether Mr. Conyers had by this time arrived, and whether, in the pleasure of his coming, all thought of the late visitors had been forgotten.  Presently Larry sauntered up, and took a seat on a wall a few paces away.  Larry was a general favourite in the troop.  He did not ride in its ranks, but accompanied it in the capacity of special servant of Walter, and as general attendant to the three officers.