"Do you think they will attack us to-night?"

"I'm thinkin' they're only making observations, as me uncle obsarved,
when he was cotched in the house of Larry O'Mulligan, and they'll be
down on us some time, when everything is ready."

"It seems to me it is a poor time to make observations--in the night."

"The red-skin is like an owl," replied Mickey. "He can see much
better at night than he can by day; but there's Thompson; let us see
whether some of the spalpeens haven't made a call upon him in the
darkness. Be aisy now, in stepping over the leaves, for an Injin
hears with his fingers and toes as well as his ears."

The Hibernian led the way, each advancing with all the caution at his
command, and using such stealth and deliberation in their movements
that some ten or fifteen minutes were consumed in passing over the
intervening space. At last, however, the spot was reached where they
had bidden good-bye to their friend, earlier in the evening.

"Here's about the place," said Mickey, looking about him; "but I does
n't observe the gintleman, by the token of which he must have strayed
away. Hilloa!"

He repeated the call in a low, cautious voice, but still loud enough
to be heard a dozen yards or more from where he stood; but no response
came, and, although neither of the two gave any expression to it, yet
they were sensible of a growing fear that this absence or silence of
their friend had a most serious meaning.