Mickey’s joy when he was told that he might accompany the English gentleman was extreme.  He handed the money he had received to his father, said a few words of adieu to him, and then started on ahead of the horses.

“He had better wait and come on later,” Harry said.  “He must be utterly tired now.”

Mr. Blake shouted after the boy, who turned round, laughed, and shook his head, and again proceeded on his way.

“He can keep up with us,” Mr. Blake said.  “That horse of yours is more fagged than he is.”

Harry soon found that this was the case, and it took them nearly four hours’ riding before they reached Killicuddery.  Here a dozen barefooted men and boys ran out at their approach, and took the horses.  It was a large, straggling house, as good as that inhabited by the majority of English gentlemen, but Harry missed the well-kept lawn, the trim shrubberies, and the general air of neatness and order to which he was accustomed.

“Welcome to Killicuddery,” Mr. Blake said, as he alighted.  “Believe me, Captain Furness, you won’t find the wild Irish, now you are fairly among them, such dreadful creatures as they have been described to you.  Well, Norah,” he continued, as a girl some sixteen years of age bounded down the steps to meet him, “how goes it with you this morning?”

“As well as could be expected, father, considering that you kept us awake half the night with your songs and choruses.  None of the others are down yet, and it’s past twelve o’clock.  It’s downright shameful.”

“Norah, I’m surprised at you,” Mr. Blake said, laughing.  “What will Captain Furness think of Irish girls when he hears you speaking so disrespectfully to your father.  This is my daughter Norah, Captain Furness, who is, I regret to say, a wild and troublesome girl.  This, my dear, is Captain Furness, a king’s officer, who has fought through all the battles of the war.”

“And who has lately been engaged in a struggle with an Irish bog,” the girl said, laughing, for Harry’s gay dress was discolored and stained from head to foot.

Harry laughed also.

“I certainly got the worst of that encounter, Miss Norah, as indeed has been the case in most of those in which I have been engaged.  I never felt much more hopeless, when I thought I should have to pass the night sitting on a tuft of grass with mud and mist all round me, except when I was once nearly baked to death in, company with Prince Rupert.”

“It must have been a large oven,” the girl laughed; “but come in now.  I am sure you will both be ready for breakfast.  But papa would keep you chattering here all day if I would let him.”