bound, that carried
the front wheels off the road, away they went. "Meet us at the other
gate,--they 'll show you the way," cried MacNaghten, as, standing up,
he pointed with his whip in the direction he meant. He had no time
for more; for all his attention was now needed to the horses, as, each
exciting the other, they dashed madly on down the road.

"This comes of keeping them standing," muttered Dan; "and the scoundrels
have curbed them up too tight. You're not afraid, Miss Polly? By Jove,
that was a dash,--Kitty showed her heels over the splash-board. Look at
that devil Dan,--see how he 's bearing on the pole-piece!--an old trick
of his."

A tremendous cut on his flank now drove him almost furious, and the
enraged animal set off at speed.

"We must let them blow themselves, Miss Polly. It all comes of their
standing so long. You're not afraid?--Well, then, they may do their
worst."

By this time the pace had become a tearing gallop, and seeing that
nothing short of some miles would suffice to tame them down, MacNaghten
turned their heads in the direction of a long avenue which led towards
the sea.

It was all in vain that Fagan fastened through the flower-garden, and
across a private shrubbery; when he reached the "gate," there was no
sign of the phaeton. The cuckoo and the thrush were the only voices
heard in the stillness; and, at intervals, the deep booming of the sea,
miles distant, told how unbroken was the silence around. His mind was
a conflict of fear and anger; terrible anxieties for his daughter were
mixed up with passion at this evidence of her wayward nature, and he
walked along, reproaching himself bitterly for having accepted the
civilities of MacNaghten.

Fagan's own schemes for a high alliance for his daughter had made him
acquainted with many a counterplot of adventurers against himself.
He well knew what a prize Polly Fagan was deemed amongst the class of
broken-down and needy spendthrifts who came to him for aid. Often and
often had he detected the first steps of such machinations, till at
length he had become suspectful of everything and everybody. Now,
MacNaghten was exactly the kind of man he most dreaded in this respect.
There was that recklessness about him that comes of broken fortune; he
was the very type of a desperate adventurer, ready to seize any chance
to restore himself to fortune and independence. Who could answer for
such a man in such an emergency?

Driven almost mad with