We leave them now, in order that we may follow the sheriff and his party, who went to secure the body of the Red Rapparee.  This worthy person, not at all aware of the friendly office which his patron, Sir Robert, intended to discharge towards him, felt himself quite safe, and consequently took very little pains to secure his concealment.  Indeed, it could hardly be expected that he should, inasmuch as Whitecraft had led him to understand, as we have said, that Government had pardoned him his social trangressions, as a per contra for those political ones which they still expected from him.  Such was his own view of the case, although he was not altogether free from misgiving, and a certain vague apprehension.  Be this as it may, he had yet to learn a lesson which his employer was not disposed to teach him by any other means than handing him over to the authorities on the following day.  How matters might have terminated between him and the baronet it is out of our power to detail.  The man was at all times desperate and dreadful, where either revenge or anger was excited, especially as he labored under the superstitious impression that he was never to be hanged or perish by a violent death, a sentiment then by no means uncommon among persons of his outrageous and desperate life.  It has been observed, and with truth, that the Irish Rapparees seldom indulged in the habit of intoxication or intemperance, and this is not at all to be wondered at.  The meshes of authority were always spread for them, and the very consciousness of this fact sharpened their wits, and kept them perpetually on their guard against the possibility of arrest.  Nor was this all.  The very nature of the lawless and outrageous life they led, and their frequent exposure to danger, rendered habits of caution necessary—­and those were altogether incompatible with habits of intemperance.  Self-preservation rendered this policy necessary, and we believe there are but few instances on record of a Rapparee having been arrested in a state of intoxication.  Their laws, in fact, however barbarous they were in other matters, rendered three cases of drunkenness a cause of expulsion from the gang.  O’Donnel, however, had now relaxed from the rigid observation of his own rules, principally for the reasons we have already stated—­by which we mean, a conviction of his own impunity, as falsely communicated to him by Sir Robert Whitecraft.  The sheriff had not at first intended to be personally present at his capture; but upon second consideration he came to the determination of heading the party who were authorized to secure him.  This resolution of Oxley’s had, as will presently be seen, a serious effect upon the fate and fortunes of the Cooleen Bawn and her lover.  The party, who were guided by Tom Steeple, did not go to Mary Mahon’s, but to a neighboring cottage, which was inhabited by a distant relative of O’Donnel.  A quarrel had taken place between the fortune-teller and him, arising