“Yes, Mr. Folliard,” replied the doughty baronet, “but your house has the character of being haunted; and I have a terror of ghosts.”

The squire himself got up, and, seizing a candle, went outside the door, but nothing in human shape was visible.

“Come here, Sir Robert,” said he, “that sneeze came from no ghost, I’ll swear.  Who ever heard of a ghost sneezing?  Never mind, though; for the curiosity of the thing I will examine for myself, and return to you in a few minutes.”

He accordingly left them, and in a short time came back, assuring them that every one in the house was in a state of the most profound repose, and that it was his opinion it must have been a cat.

“I might think so myself,” observed the baronet, “were it not for the double sneeze.  I am afraid, Mr. Folliard, that the report is too true—­and that the house is haunted.  O’Donnel, you must come home with me to-night.”

O’Donnel, who entertained no apprehension of ghosts, finding that the “authorities” were not in question, agreed to go with him, although he had a small matter on hand which required his presence in another part of the country.

The baronet, however, had gained his point.  The heart of the hasty and unreflecting squire had been poisoned, and not one shadow of doubt remained on his mind of Reilly’s treachery.  And that which convinced him beyond all arguments or assertions was the fact that on the night of the premeditated attack on his house not one of the Red Rapparee’s gang was seen, or any trace of them discovered.

CHAPTER VI.—­The Warning—­an Escape

Reilly, in the meantime, was not insensible to his danger.  About eleven o’clock the next day, as he was walking in his garden, Tom Steeple made his appearance, and approached him with a look of caution and significance.

“Well, Tom,” said he, “what’s the news?”

Tom made no reply, but catching him gently by the sleeve of his coat, said, “Come wid Tom; Tom has news for you.  Here it is, in de paper;” and as he spoke, he handed him a letter, the contents of which we give: 

“Dearest Reilly:  The dreadful discovery I have made, the danger and treachery and vengeance by which you are surrounded, but, above all, my inexpressible love for you, will surely justify me in not losing a moment to write to you; and I select this poor creature as my messenger because he is least likely to be suspected.  It is through him that the discovery of the accursed plot against you has been made.  It appears that he slept in the castle last night, as he often does, and having observed Sir Thomas Whitecraft and that terrible man, the Red Rapparee, coming into the house, and going along with papa into his study, evidently upon some private business, he resolved to listen.  He did so, and overheard the Rapparee stating to papa that every thing which took place on the evening you