“Kathleen, you may ask anything of me, and depend upon it, I will not refuse it, if I can grant it.”

“Then, sir,” replied the good girl, “you know how I overcame my feelings to serve you, will you overcome yours for me?  I cannot bear the idea that anyone, bad as he may be, of the family who have reared me, should perish in so miserable a manner; and I cannot bear that any man, bad as he is, even if I did not feel obliged to him, should die so full of guilt, and without absolution.  Will you let me have the key, that Sir Henry de Clare may be released after you are safe and away?  I know he does not deserve any kindness from you; but it is a horrid death, and a horrid thing to die so loaded with crime.”

“Kathleen,” replied I, “I will keep my word with you.  Here is the key; take it up to-morrow morning, and give it to Lady de Clare; tell her Japhet Newland sent it.”

“I will, and God bless you, sir.”

“Good-bye, sir,” said Mrs M’Shane, “you have no time to lose.”

“God bless you, sir,” said Kathleen, who now put her arms round me and kissed me.  We mounted our horses and set off.

We pressed our horses, or rather ponies, for they were very small, till we had gained about six miles, when we considered that we were, comparatively speaking, safe, and then drew up, to allow them to recover their wind.  I was very much exhausted myself, and hardly spoke one word until we arrived at the next post town, when we found everybody in bed.  We contrived, however, to knock them up, and Timothy having seen that our horses were put into the stable, we lay down till the next morning upon a bed which happened to be unoccupied.  Sorry as were the accommodations, I never slept so soundly, and woke quite refreshed.  The next morning I stated my intention of posting to Dublin, and asked Tim what we should do with the horses.

“They belong to the castle,” replied he.

“Then in God’s name, let the castle have them, for I wish for nothing from that horrid place.”

We stated to the landlord that the horses were to be sent back, and that the man who took them would be paid for his trouble; and then it occurred to me, that it would be a good opportunity of writing to Melchior, alias Sir Henry.  I do not know why, but certainly my animosity against him had subsided, and I did not think of taking legal measures against him.  I thought it, however, right to frighten him.  I wrote, therefore, as follows:—­

SIR HENRY,—­I send you back your horses with thanks, as they have enabled Timothy and me to escape from your clutches.  Your reputation and your life now are in my power, and I will have ample revenge.  The fact of your intending murder, will be fully proved by my friend Timothy, who was employed by you in disguise, and accompanied your gipsy.  You cannot escape the sentence of the law.  Prepare yourself, then, for the worst, as it is not my intention that you shall escape the disgraceful punishment due to your crimes.

     Yours, JAPHET NEWLAND.