an hour, and then set out, but little refreshed.  We hoped to find refreshments in a small publichouse, on the road leading from Clogheen to Lismore.  I entered the house rather hurriedly, and the first object that met my view was a policeman.  I turned quickly round and disappeared.  The rapidity of my movement attracted his attention, and, calling to his comrades and some countrymen who were in the house, they commenced a pursuit.  At first they appeared little concerned, but walked quickly.  We accordingly quickened our pace, and they, in turn, began to run, when it became a regular chase, which continued four miles, until we disappeared in the blue mists of the Mitchelstown mountains, as night was falling around us.  When we saw our pursuers retiring, we ventured to descend, and entered a cabin where we found a few cold half-formed new potatoes and some sour milk which we ravenously devoured.  I do not remember ever enjoying a dinner as I did this.  My comrade, who had suffered much from illness, was unable to eat with the same relish.  It was night when we finished our repast, and we set off in search of some place to lay our heads.  We met several refusals, and succeeded, with great difficulty at last, in a very poor cabin.  We saw a lone hen on a cross-beam, which we proposed to purchase, and bought at last for two shillings.  In less than an hour she was disposed of; and, as was invariably the case, we got the only bed in the house, where we slept a long and dreamless sleep.  It rained incessantly the next day, and we were forced repeatedly to take shelter in cabins by the wayside.  But, being excessively anxious to get as far as possible beyond the circle enclosed by our foes, we descended several miles along the Kilworth mountains.  Towards the close of evening we crossed the River Funcheon, near Kilworth, by means of a fir-tree, the roots of which had been undermined by the rapid flood.  We had spent the whole day in wet clothes.  We mounted this tree, Indian-like, in the midst of rain, and dropped in the shallow part of the river from the branches.  We were unable to procure lodgings afterwards until nearly eleven o’clock, and then not without difficulty.  We succeeded, at length, within about a quarter of a mile of Kilworth, whence we were able to procure bread, tea and beefsteaks.  We were very kindly treated, and next day accompanied to the Blackwater, at Castle Hyde, by the eldest brother of the family.

I shall not easily forget the delicacy with which this young man requested, if we thought it compatible with our safety, to tell him our names.  There are few requests which either of us would feel greater reluctance in refusing.  He saw our evident struggle, and said he would be satisfied with a promise that when our fate would be decided one way or the other, we would write to him; a promise which I redeemed the day after I reached Paris.

This day I think, August the 20th, we travelled over forty miles, along bog and mountain, passed within a few miles of the city of Cork, and then, taking a north-western direction, proceeded to the village of Blarney; where we slept on a loft with a number of carmen who were on their way to Cork with corn.