On arriving at O’Driscol’s, he found that M’Carthy had not come, and after waiting till one o’clock, he prepared to take his departure.  At this moment, a female servant tapped at the drawing-room door, and after having been desired to come in, she communicated the following startling particulars:—­She had forgotten her washing, she said, and gone out a little time before to bring it in, and in doing so, she spied several men with black faces and white shirts skulking about the house.  She was not sure, she said, on having the question put to her, whether she had been seen by them or not.

This communication, which was given with every mark of alarm and terror, completely altered the posture of affairs at the magistrate’s.  Katherine O’Driscol’s face became deadly pale as she turned a glance upon young Purcel, which he well understood.  “Alick,” said she, “under these circumstances, it would, be absolute madness to attempt going home to-night.  It is very likely they have discovered that you are here, and are watching for you.”

“But if I do not return home,” he replied, “it is equally probable that John and my father, wondering at my delay, may come to look for me, and in that case they might meet these ruffians—­or rather might be waylaid by them.”

“Purcel, my dear fellow!” said the magistrate, who was now pretty deep in his cups, and consequently somewhat pot-valiant—­or at least disposed to show them a touch of his valor—­“Alick, my dear fellow, you are courageous enough, I admit, but at the same time, you must put yourself under the guidance of a brave and loyal old magistrate, who is not to be cowed and intimidated by a crew of midnight cut-throats.  You’ll gee now, Alick, my boy, what a touch of loyal courage can do.  Upon my honor, and conscience, I will myself escort you home.”

“By no means, sir,” replied Purcel, “I could not think of putting you to such a risk, and inconvenience at this late hour.”

“But I say by all manes, Alick—­and as for inconvanience, it is none at all.”

“But Mr. Purcel will expose neither himself nor you, my dear father,” said Katherine; “he will be guided by good sense, and remain here to-night.”

“Tut! you foolish cowardly girl, go to bed—­you play loo very well, and have won seven-and-sixpence from me to-night.  That’s your province.  No, upon my sowl and honor, I’ll see him home.  What! is it for the intelligent and determined O’Driscol, as your brother John said—­and who is well known to be a very divil incarnate when danger’s before him—­is it for such a man—­the terror of evil-doers—­to funk from a crew of White-boys!  What would my friend the Castle say if it knew it?—­divil resave the line ever it would correspond with me again.  Get me my pistols, I say—­a case for each pocket, and the blunderbush under my arm—­then come on, M’Donough, as the play says, and blazes to him who runs last.”  Here he gave a lurch a little to the one side, after which he placed himself in something intended for a military attitude, and drawing his hand down his whiskers, he inflated himself as if about to give the word of command, “Soldiers, steady,”—­here he gave another lurch—­“recover omes (arms)—­charge bayonets—­present—­halt—­to the right about—­double quick—­:bravo—­you see what I could do, if placed in a military position.”