orld know
what you may as well know now, that Mike Gallagher, your father, was the
murderer of my brother."

"That is a lie," said I, "and some day I'll prove it."

"Ay, do," said he with a laugh. "It will take a good deal of proof."

"Not more than Biddy McQuilkin can give," said I.

He staggered at this like a man shot.

"Biddy is dead long ago," he exclaimed.

"Are you so sure of that?" said I. "Any way, I'll be here for the horse
and the pass at dark. And take my advice, Maurice Gorman, and see that
not a hair of Tim's head is hurt. You are safe as long as he is, and no
longer."

And not waiting to take food or encounter the other officials, I went
down to my boat and cast myself adrift on the dark waters of the Swilly.

My most urgent business was to find or communicate with Tim, and for
that purpose I set sail once more for the headlands of Fanad.

As to his honour's curious behaviour, I knew him and distrusted him
enough not to think much of it. He was a coward, cursed with a guilty
conscience, and would fain have passed himself off as a righteous judge
and powerful patron. He was anxious to conciliate me, not so much, I
thought, because of my hint about the property, which he was satisfied
was incapable of proof, as from a fear I might compromise him with the
authorities about his past dealings with the rebels. He was nervously
anxious to get me out of the country, and was willing to promise
anything, even Tim's safety and Miss Kit's society, to get rid of me.

But it would go hard with Tim if he had no security better than his
honour's word; and my dear little mistress, if she was to be won at all,
was not to be won as the price of a political bargain.

All the morning and afternoon I searched up and down in vain, meeting
not a soul nor any sign of my brother. With heavy misgivings I returned
to my boat, and set sail once more towards Knockowen. Half-way down the
lough it occurred to me that I would do better to pay a visit first of
all to Kilgorman. After the scare of this morning's business the rebels
would hardly have the hardihood to meet there to-night; and although
there was little chance of finding Tim there, the place contained a spot
known to both of us, in which a message could be safely deposited.

So I tacked about, and soon found myself once more in the deep cave.
The place was empty and silent, and as I crept along the rocky passage
nothing but the echoes of my own feet and