“Where are you bound for, Mr. Reilly?” said the latter.

“For home,” replied Reilly, “in order to secure my money and the papers connected with the family property.”

“Well, then,” said the other, “if you go home now you are a lost man.”

“How is that?” asked Reilly.

“Your house at this moment is filled with sogers, and surrounded by them too.  You know that no human being could make me out in this disguise; I had heard that they were on their way to your place, and afeered that they might catch you at home, I was goin’ to let you know, in ordher that you might escape them, but I was too late; the villains were there before me.  I took heart o’ grace, however, and went up to beg a little charity for the love and honor of God.  Seem’ the kind of creature I was, they took no notice of me; for to tell you the truth, they were too much bent on searchin’ for, and findin’ you.  God protect us from such men, Mr. Reilly,” and the name he uttered in alow and cautious voice; “but at all events this is no country for you to live in now.  But who do you think was the busiest and the bittherest man among them?”

“Why Whitecraft, I suppose.”

“No; he wasn’t there himself—­no; but that double distilled traitor and villain, the Red Rapparee, and bad luck to him.  You see, then, that if you attempt to go near your own house you’re a lost man, as I said.”

“I feel the truth of what you say,” replied Reilly, “but are you aware that they committed any acts of violence?  Are you aware that they disturbed my property or ransacked my house?”

“Well, that’s more than I can say,” replied Fergus, “for to tell you the truth, I was afraid to trust myself inside, in regard of that scoundrel the Rapparee, who, bein’ himself accustomed to all sorts of disguises, I dreaded might find me out.”

“Well, at all events,” said Reilly, “with respect to that I disregard them.  The family papers and other available property are too well secreted for them to secure them.  On discovering Whitecraft’s jealousy, and knowing, as I did before, his vindictive spirit and power in the country, I lost no time in putting them in a safe place.  Unless they burn the house they could never come at them.  But as this fact is not at all an improbable one—­so long as Whitecraft is my unscrupulous and relentless enemy—­I shall seize upon the first opportunity of placing them elsewhere.”

“You ought to do so,” said Fergus, “for it is not merely Whitecraft you have to deal wid, but ould Folliard himself, who now swears that if he should lose half his fortune he will either hang or transport you.”

“Ah!  Fergus,” replied the other, “there is an essential difference between the characters of these two men.  The father of Cooleen Bawn is, when he thinks himself injured, impetuous and unsparing in his resentment; but then he is an open foe, and the man whom he looks upon as his enemy always knows what he has to expect from him.  Not so the other; he is secret, cautious, cowardly, and consequently doubly vindictive.  He is a combination of the fox and the tiger, with all the treacherous cunning of the one, and the indomitable ferocity of the other, when he finds that he can make his spring with safety.”