"I scarcely know," replied Reilly, "but on one thing my mind is
determined--that I will not leave this country until I know the ultimate
fate of the _Cooleen Bawn_. Rather than see her become the wife of that
diabolical scoundrel, whom she detests as she does hell, I would lose
my life. Let the consequences then be what they may, I will not for the
present leave Ireland. This resolution I have come to since I saw her
to-night. I am her only friend, and, so help me God, I shall not suffer
her to be sacrificed--murdered. In the course of the night we shall
return to my house and look about us. If the coast be clear I will
secure my cash and papers as I said. It is possible that a few
stragglers may lurk behind, under the expectation of securing me while
making a stolen visit. However, we shall try. We are under the scourge
of irresponsible power, Fergus; and if Whitecraft should burn my house
to-night or to-morrow, who is to bring him to an account for it? or if
they should, who is to convict him?"

The night had now become very dark, but they knew the country well, and
soon found themselves upon the old road they were seeking.

"I will go up," said Reilly, "to the cabin of poor widow Buckley, where
we will stop until we think those blood-hounds have gone home. She has
a free cottage and garden from me, and has besides been a pensioner of
mine for some time back, and I know I can depend upon her discretion
and fidelity. Her little place is remote and solitary, and not more than
three quarters of a mile from us."

They accordingly kept the old road for some time, until they reached a
point of it where there was an abrupt angle, when, to their utter alarm
and consternation, they found themselves within about twenty or thirty
yards of a military party.