knew where ye were going."

"He's not much of a fairy," said I, "or he would know that without
asking; tell him that I am going to see my brother."

"And who is your brother, little Sas?"

"What my father is, a royal soldier."

"Oh, ye are going then to the detachment at ---; by my shoul, I have a
good mind to be spoiling your journey."

"You are doing that already," said I, "keeping me here talking about dogs
and fairies; you had better go home and get some salve to cure that place
over your eye; it's catching cold you'll be, in so much snow."

On one side of the man's forehead there was a raw and staring wound, as
if from a recent and terrible blow.

"Faith, then I'll be going, but it's taking you wid me I will be.'

"And where will you take me?"

"Why, then, to Ryan's Castle, little Sas."

"You do not speak the language very correctly," said I; "it is not _Sas_
you should call me--'tis _Sassannach_," and forthwith I accompanied the
word with a speech full of flowers of Irish rhetoric.

The man looked upon me for a moment, fixedly, then, bending his head
towards his breast, he appeared to be undergoing a kind of convulsion,
which was accompanied by a sound something resembling laughter; presently
he looked at me, and there was a broad grin on his features.

"By my shoul, it's a thing of peace I'm thinking ye."

But now with a whisking sound came running down the road a hare; it was
nearly upon us before it perceived us; suddenly stopping short, however,
it sprang into the bog on the right-hand side; after it amain bounded the
dog of peace, followed by the man, but not until he had nodded to me a
farewell salutation. In a few moments I lost sight of him amidst the
snow-flakes.

The weather was again clear and fine before I reached the place of
detachment. It was a little wooden barrack, surrounded by a wall of the
same material; a sentinel stood at the gate, I passed by him, and,
entering the building, found myself in a rude kind of guard-room; several
soldiers were lying asleep on a wooden couch at one end, others lounged
on benches by the side of a turf fire. The tall sergeant stood before
the fire, holding a cooking utensil in his left hand; on seeing me, he
made the military salutation.

"Is my brother here?" said I, rather timidly, dreading to hear that he
was out, perhaps for the day.

"The ensign is in his room, sir," said Bagg, "I am now preparing his
meal, which will presently be ready;