“Ay,” replied Mogue, “but you know our captain had been shot, and is lyin’ stiff inside the gate there behind us.”

“But livin’ or dead,” they replied, “do you observe your duty—­it’s a bad an’ dangerous example you’re settin’.”

“But sure if the captain was alive,” said Mogue, “it ’ud be a different thing—­that I may be happy, but I’m bringin’ her the right way, and to the right place, too—­amn’t I, boys?” he exclaimed, turning to his followers.

“All’s right!” they replied; “to be sure you are—­go on, and more powers!”

About a minute or two before this, a mounted Whitefoot had rode up, and having heard the words, he replied to Mogue, in a loud voice, “No, sir! our captain is not shot, but is safe and sound.”  And scarcely had the words proceeded from his lips when the very individual, as it seemed, who had led them during the night, galloped up to the place of altercation.

“Who says I am dead,” said he; “I don’t look like a dead man, I think.  Meek way there till I speak to this man,” pointing to Mogue.  “Why, sir, did you dare to disobey ordhers by taking this lady to the wrong place?  Answer me that?”

Mogue, seeing that his support was now powerful, looked at them, and asked aloud—­“Am I bringin’ the lady the wrong way, boys?”

“No,” they replied; “Go on, and more power!”

At this moment M’Carthy shouted out in loud and powerful tones—­“The Cannie Soogah!” and the words were no sooner uttered than Mogue started, a rapid stir and murmur pervaded, the multitude, and almost instantly a most hearty and vociferous cheer awakened the echoes that slept among the neighboring hills.  The moment this had subsided, the same voice repeated the name with an addition—­“The Cannie Soogah to the rescue—­here he is!”

Our facetious friend, for it was he, threw up his hand in a peculiar manner, that made the act understood by all present, with the exception of M’Carthy and Alick Purcel.

“Yes, boys,” he exclaimed, “I am here; and I thank you for your kindness.  You have had a full revenge to-night on Purcel and his family; but, as I have been a long time in search of a good wife, I suppose you have no objection that I should take charge of the ladies.”

These words were followed by another astounding cheer, and the Cannie, riding over to the spot where Mrs. Purcel and her daughter stood—­for she and Mary had now joined Julia—­was about to speak to them, when the report of a pistol was heard, and at the same moment a bullet whizzed past his ear.

“Treachery!” he shouted, “treachery against your commander!  Seize upon that person, in the name of Captain Right.”

His words came late; another report followed the first, with an interval of less than a quarter of a minute between them, and instantly our pious friend, who had flattered himself with the prospect of a long and happy life in the possession of Julia Purcel, fell stone-dead to the earth.