Tom Dycer says
that every magistrate in the country is a marked man."

Mrs. Hewson cast a frightened glance toward the windows, which opened
nearly to the ground, and gave a view of a wide, tree-besprinkled lawn,
through whose centre a long straight avenue led to the high-road. There
was also a footpath at either side of the house, branching off through
close thickets of trees, and reaching the road by a circuitous route.

"Listen, James!" she said, after a pause, "what noise is that?"

"Nothing but the sighing of the wind among the trees. Come, wife, you
must not give way to imaginary fears."

"But really I heard something like footsteps on the gravel, round the
gable-end--I wish--"

A knock at the parlor door interrupted her.

"Come in."

The door opened, and Tim Gahan, Mr. Hewson's confidential steward and
right-hand man, entered, followed by a fair-haired, delicate-looking boy
of six years' old, dressed in deep mourning.

"Well, Gahan, what do you want?"

"I ask your honor's pardon for disturbing you and the mistress; but I
thought it right to come and tell you the bad news I heard."

"Something about the rebels, I suppose?"

"Yes, sir; I got a whisper just now that there's going to be a great
rising entirely, to-morrow; thousands are to gather before daybreak at
Kilcrean bog, where I'm told they've a power of pikes hiding; and then
they're to march on and sack every house in the country. I'll engage,
when I heard it, I didn't let grass grow under my feet, but came off
straight to your honor, thinking maybe you'd like to walk over this fine
evening to Mr. Warren's, and settle with him what's best to be done."

"Oh, James! I beseech you, don't think of going."

"Make your mind easy, Charlotte; I don't intend it: not that I suppose
there would be much risk; but, all things considered, I think I'm just
as comfortable at home."

The steward's brow darkened, as he glanced nervously toward the end
window, which jutting out in the gable, formed a deep angle in the outer
wall.

"Of course, 'tis just as your honor plases, but I'll warrant you there
would be no harm in going. Come, Billy," he added, addressing the child,
who by this time was standing close to Mrs. Hewson, "make your bow, and
bid good-night to master and mistress."

The boy did not stir, and Mrs. Hewson taking his little hand in hers,
said,

"You need not go home for half-an-hour, Gahan; stay and have a chat with
the servants in the kitc