isible from the bay. Yes, here it
is,--a strange, wild spot, too, and, as Mr. Dunn opines, scarcely
available for his great scheme."

"But he has so many great schemes," said Hankes, with a sly and sidelong
glance towards her.

Sybella, however, paid no attention to the remark, but, leaning over the
map, continued to trace out the line of route to the spot in question.
"By crossing Bantry Bay at Gortalassy, one might save above thirty miles
of way. I have been over the road before, and remember it well."

"And you really mean to undertake the journey?" asked Hankes, in some
astonishment.

"Of course I do. I ask nothing better than to be fully occupied, and am
well pleased when in so doing I can exchange the desk for the saddle,
or, almost better, the stern-sheets of a Bantry Hooker. You are not a
woman, and you cannot feel, therefore, the sense of pride inspired by
mere utility."

"I wish I might ask you a favor, Miss Kellett," said he, after a
moment's thought.

"A favor of _me!_" said she, laughing, as though the idea amused her.

"Yes," said he, resuming. "I would beg to be permitted to accompany you
on this same journey. I have never been any of these wild, untravelled
tracts, and it would be a great additional charm to visit them in your
company."

"So far as I am concerned, I grant you the permission freely; but it
were well for you to remember that you must not only be well mounted,
but prepared to ride over some rough country. I go, usually, as the crow
flies, and, as nearly as I can, the same pace too. Now, between this and
Loughbeg, there are, at least, three trying fences: one a wall with a
deep drop beyond it, and another a steep bank, where I remember that
somebody narrowly escaped having an ugly fall; there's a small estuary,
too, to cross, near Gortalassy. But I am ashamed to enumerate these
petty obstacles; such as they are, they are the only ones,--there are
none on my part."

"When do you mean to set out?" asked Hankes, in a tone far less eager
than his former question.

"There's a full moon to-morrow night, so that, leaving this about
midnight, we might reach the bay by six or seven o'clock, and then, if
we should be fortunate with the wind, arrive at Kilmaganagh by about
four o'clock. Taking there three or four hours to see the place, we
could start again about eight, or even nine--"

"Good heavens! that gives nothing for repose,--no time to recruit."

"You forget there are fully five