“Of ginerals like Bonnypart and Sarsfield, I’d soon have the country clear and the millstone pavin’ the roads under our feet, as it will be before long, plaise God.  Come, then, to business.”

They accordingly proceeded to the adjoining house, with the exception of Finnerty himself, who, whether for the sake of safety, or rather for the purpose of watching M’Carthy, remained at his own fireside.  His wife, on seeing this, pretended to be engaged with some domestic matter about the dresser, on which she placed a freshly lit rushlight, and availing herself of her position behind the back of her husband, who sat with his face towards the bed, she slightly raised her hands and eyes, as if to intimate that escape, she feared, was impossible.

It is incredible, the reaction which a new sensation, especially of joy or terror, or, indeed, of any feeling that is strong, superinduces upon the spirit, under circumstances of peculiar danger or interest.  M’Carthy’s fatigue, for instance, had now as completely departed from him as if he had not been abroad that day, and in consequence of the significant hint which he had received through the voice of his mysterious friend, he felt that if an opportunity were only offered him he would use the two legs to which his friend had alluded, when checked by the stern voice of their leader, with as much agility as ever they possessed during his life.  It was this hint which made him feel certain, for the first time, that he was in imminent danger.

Half an hour had now elasped, and it was evident, from the listening attitudes and frequent stortings of Finnerty, that the debate in the lodge was high and serious.  At length, one of the society hurriedly made his appearance, exclaiming; in a kind of condensed and agitated whisper, “Come in and help us—­they won’t stand the thing, there’s only three for us.”  Finnerty took the candle; and, after signing to the person to go out, brought it close to M’Carthy’s eyes, who opened his mouth and assumed with singular success all the deep insensible relaxation which characterizes heavy sleep.  Finnerty even shook him, and said, “Hadn’t you better get up, sir, and come to meet the car?” He addressed a log, however, and after another more careless and evidently satisfied glance, he laid down the candle, and then said to his wife, in a whisper, which, however, M’Carthy could hear; “The moment he wakens let us know.”

Vread, who would not seem to attach any importance to the circumstance, simply nodded, by way of acquiescence, and her husband, went to join those in the lodge.