“Who can that man be?” asked one of them; “he seems to have wings to his feet.”

“By the sacred light of day,” exclaimed another, “it is no other than the famous Shawn-na-Middogue himself.  I know him well; and even if I did not, who could mistake him by his speed of foot?”

“Is that he?” said the mask; “then fifty pounds in addition to the government reward to the man who will shoot him down, or secure him, living or dead:  only let him be taken.”

Just then four or five persons, friends of course to the unfortunate outlaw, came in before the dogs across the trail, in consequence of which the animals became puzzled, and lost considerable time in regaining it, whilst Shawn, in the meantime, was fast making his way to the mountains.

The reward, however, offered by the man in the black mask—­for it was a black one—­accelerated the speed of the pursuers, between whom a competition of terrible energy and action arose as to which of them should secure the public reward and the premium that were offered for his blood.  Shawn, however, had been evidently exhausted, and sat down considerably in advance of them, on the mountain side, to take breath, in order to better the chance of effecting his escape; but whilst seated, panting after his race, the dogs gained rapidly upon him.  Having put his hand over his eyes, and looked keenly down—­for he had the sight of an eagle—­the approach of the dogs did not seem at all to alarm him.

“Ah, thank God, they will have him soon,” said the mask, “and it is a pity that we cannot give them the reward.  Who owns those noble dogs?”

“You will see that very soon, sir,” replied a man beside him; “you will see it very soon—­you may see it now.”

As he uttered the words the dogs sprang upon Shawn, wagged their tails as if in a state of most ecstatic delight, and began to caress him and lick his face.

“Finn, my brave Finn!” he exclaimed, patting him affectionately, “and is this you? and Oonah, my darling Oonah, did the villains think that my best friends would pursue me for my blood?  Come now,” said he, “follow me, and we will lead them a chase.”

During this brief rest, however, four of the most active of his pursuers, who knew what is called the lie of the country, succeeded, by passing through the skirt of the wood in a direction where it, was impossible to observe them, in coming up behind the spot where he had sat, and consequently, when he and his dogs, or those which had been once his, ascended its flat summit, the four men pounced upon him.  Four against one would, in ordinary cases, be fearful odds; but Shawn knew that he had two stanch and faithful friends to support him.  Quick as lightning his middogue was into one of their hearts, and almost as quickly were two more of them seized by the throats and dragged down by the powerful animals that defended him.  The fourth man was as rapidly despatched