he way out of
here. You're a fine, bold chap, ain't you?" he added, in a tone of
scorn. "Look like you was fitter to be a girl than a lad, any day,
and, if it wasn't for the good turn you done me friend back yonder,
I'd be tempted to give you a kindergarten lesson in the manly art of
self-defence. As it is, I'll let you off this time, provided you'll
show me the way out. But you want to get a move on."

Terribly frightened as she was, the girl still found strength to open
a door on the opposite side of the room and motion for the man to pass
through. As he did so she slammed it behind him and locked it. Then
her overwrought feelings gave way, and she sank into a chair, sobbing
hysterically.

Furious at finding himself thus tricked, the Irishman's first impulse
was to turn and batter down the door, but a couple of heavy kicks
delivered against it for this purpose brought forth a loud cry from
some lower region.

"Hi! up dar. What you all a-doin'?"

At the same time it flashed into Connell's mind that his recent
enemies of the cavern might appear at any moment and open the door in
such a way as to cause him to regret that it had not remained closed.
Besides, was he not capable of finding his own way out of a house?

"Of course I am," he muttered, "and I'd best be doing it in a hurry,
too. So good-bye, young feller, and here's hoping we'll meet again."

Then he made his way down-stairs, opened a door, and found himself in
a kitchen, confronted by a resolute old colored woman, who, after one
glance at his strange face, let fly at it a ladle of hot water. This
assault was immediately followed by such a well-directed shower of
plates, pans, and culinary utensils as caused the intruder to utter
howls of pain and make a blind dash for an outer door.

Even outside the house his troubles were far from ended, for shouting
men were running towards him through the darkness, while at the same
time a dog leaped at him.

Throttling the animal and flinging him off after a vigorous struggle,
Connell had next to knock down a man who was attacking him on the
opposite side, receive a blow from a broom-handle wielded by Aunty
Nimmo, dodge several other assailants, and finally to run for his
life.

When the poor fellow at length found himself alone and safe from
present pursuit, he sat breathlessly on a log, over which he had just
pitched headlong, and began to consider his situation.

"You may talk about your dynamite and gunpow