“Is it I, you mane!  Och! don’t think ye ‘re goin’ to set me a rowin’ a boat once more, ag’in my inclinations and edication, as ye did in ould times.  I’ve rung ye into yer ma’tin’, and out of yer m’atin’, too, twenty times too often to be catched in that same trap twice.  It’s Miss Maud I wants, and Miss Maud I’ll find, or ——­ Lord bless her swate face and morals, and her cha_rack_ter, and all belonging to her!—­ isn’t that, now, a prathy composure for the likes of her, and the savages at the mill, and the Missus in tears, and the masther mighty un’asy, and all of us bothered!  See how she sits on that bit of a sate that I puts there for her wid my own hands, as a laddy should, looking jist what she is, the quane of the woods, and the delight of our eyes!”

Maud was too much accustomed to the rhapsodies of the county Leitrim-man to think much of this commencement; but resolute to act her part with discretion, she rose to meet him, speaking with great apparent self-possession.

“Is it possible you are in quest of me?” she said—­“why has this happened?—­I usually return about this hour.”

“Hoors is it!  Don’t talk of hoors, beauthiful young laddy, when a single quarther may be too late,” answered Mike, dogmatically.  “It’s your own mother that’s not happy at yer being in the woods the night, and yer ould father that has moore un’asiness than he’ll confess; long life to the church in which confession is held to be right, and dacent, and accorthing to the gospel of St. Luke, and the whole calender in the bargain.  Ye’ll not be frightened, Miss Maud, but take what I’ve to tell ye jist as if ye didn’t bel’ave a wo-r-r-d of it; but, divil bur-r-n me, if there arn’t Injins enough on the rocks, forenent the mill, to scalp a whole province, and a county along wid it, if ye’ll give ’em time and knives enough.”

“I understand you, Michael, but am not in the least alarmed,” answered Maud, with an air of great steadiness; such, indeed, as would have delighted the captain.  “Something of what has been passing below have I seen; but, by being calm and reasonable, we shall escape the danger.  Tell me only, that all is safe in the Hut—­that my dear mother and sister are well.”

“Is it the Missus?  Och, she’s as valiant as a peacock, only strick down and overcome about your own self!  As for Miss Beuly, where’s the likes of her to be found, unless it’s on this same bit of a rock?  And it’s agraable to see the captain, looking for all the wor-r-ld like a commander-in-chaif of six or eight rijiments, ordering one this-a-way, and another that-a-way—­By St. Patrick, young laddy, I only hopes them vagabonds will come on as soon as yourself is inside the sticks, jist to give the ould jontleman a better occasion to play souldier on ’em.  Should they happen to climb over the sticks, I’ve got the prattiest bit of a shillaleh ready that mortal eyes iver adorned!  ’Twould break a head and niver a hat harmed—­a thousand’s the pities them chaps wears no hats.  Howsever, we’ll see.”