y
imagine, towards Derry.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

TWO OLD ACQUAINTANCES.

Save to turn my back on a region which had now become full of gloomy
associations, I had no very definite purpose in view in that morning's
ride. There was nothing to be done. The mischief to her I loved was
beyond recall. Even those who had made themselves the agents of this
vile conspiracy had placed themselves out of reach. Tim, my own
brother, was nominal chief to the hated band, and though he was absent,
and would, I knew, have had no hand in this business, to denounce the
whole company would be only to strike at him. From Maurice Gorman,
coward and time-server, there was nothing to be hoped. Not a friend was
there on whom I could count, not an enemy on whom I could have the sorry
satisfaction of being revenged.

As, however, the gallop through the bracing morning air produced its
natural effect, it occurred to me to offer my services, during the
remainder of my leave of absence, to Captain Swift, or, should he desire
it, join the _Diana_ forthwith, and try to forget my trouble in hard
work.

His honour's passport took me safely past the numerous patrols which
beset my way between Malin and Derry, and which spoke much for the
rigour with which the new _regime_ of martial law was being enforced.
Once or twice I was questioned as to the two ladies named in the pass,
to which I replied that I was to foregather with them presently--which I
devoutly wished might be true.

At Derry more than usual ceremony awaited a stranger at the gates. I
was conducted to the guard-room, and there detained under a kind of
friendly arrest for half-an-hour or so, until it suited the pleasure of
the officer on guard to inspect me.

When this gentleman made his appearance, I recognised, not altogether
with delight, my old acquaintance and supposed rival, Captain Lestrange.
He failed to recognise me at first, but when I reminded him of our last
meeting in Paris, he took in who I was.

"Those were hard times," said he. "How I ever got the ladies out of
that terrible city I scarcely know to this day. I see you travel on Mr
Gorman's business, and escort two ladies. Where are they?"

"I wish I knew," said I, and gave him a full account of my ride to Malin
and all that happened there.

He heard my story with growing attention and consternation.

"Decoyed!" he exclaimed vehemently. "The dogs shall pay for this! I
remember that scoundrel Martin