ner, and considered to
be a Protestant emissary. I am Tom Blake, and I live nearly twenty miles
from here. That is the reason why I was not here sooner. I was keeping
it up with some friends last night, and had just gone to bed when the
messenger arrived, and my foolish servants pretended I was too drunk to
be woke. However, when they did rouse me, I started at once."

"And has that boy gone forty miles on foot since last night?" Harry
asked, in surprise.

"Oh, that's nothing," Mr. Blake said. "Give him half an hour's rest, and
he'd keep up with us back to Killicuddery. But where is your horse, and
how did you get into this mess? The boy tells me he found you in the
bog."

Harry related his adventures.

"You have had a lucky escape indeed," Mr. Blake said. "There are places
in that bog thirty feet deep. I would not try to cross it for a thousand
pounds on a bright day, and how you managed to do so through the mist
yesterday is more than I can imagine. Now, the first thing is to get
your horse. I must apologize for not having brought one, but the fact
is, my head was not exactly clear when I started, and I had not taken in
the fact that you'd arrived on foot. My servant was more thoughtful. He
had heard from the boy that an English gentleman was here, and judging
that the larder was not likely to be stocked, he put a couple of bottles
of claret, a cold chicken, and some bread into my wallet, so we can have
breakfast while they are looking for your horse. The ride has sharpened
my appetite."

Mr. Blake now addressed a few words in Irish to the men clustered round
the door of the hut. One of them climbed to the top of the hill, and
presently shouted down some instructions, and another at once started
across the bog.

"They see your horse," Mr. Blake said, "but we shall have to wait for
two or three hours. It is some four miles off, and they will have to
make a long detour to bring it back."

Mr. Blake now distributed some silver among the men, and these, with the
exception of the master of the house, soon afterward left. Harry
heartily enjoyed his breakfast, and in cheery chat with his host the
time passed pleasantly until the peasant returned with the horse and
saddle. The horse was rubbed down with dry fern, and a lump of black
bread given him to eat.

"What can I do for the boy?" Harry asked. "I owe him my life, for I was
so thoroughly drenched and cold that I question whether I should have
lived till morning