he Castle."

"Put an oar to leeward," said Considine, "and keep her up more to the wind,
and I promise you, my lads, you will not go home fresh and fasting if you
land us where you say."

"Here they come," said the other boatman, as he pointed back with his
finger towards a large yawl which shot suddenly from the shore, with six
sturdy fellows pulling at their oars, while three or four others were
endeavoring to get up their rigging, which appeared tangled and confused at
the bottom of the boat; the white splash of water which fell each moment
beside her showing that the process of bailing was still continued.

"Ah, then, may I never--av it isn't the ould 'Dolphin' they have launched
for the cruise," said one of our fellows.

"What's the 'Dolphin,' then?"

"An ould boat of the Lord's [Lord Clanricarde's] that didn't see water,
except when it rained, these four years, and is sun-cracked from stem to
stern."

"She can sail, however," said Considine, who watched with a painful anxiety
the rapidity of her course through the water.

"Nabocklish, she was a smuggler's jolly-boat, and well used to it. Look
how they're pulling. God pardon them, but they're in no blessed humor this
morning."

"Lay out upon your oars, boys; the wind's failing us," cried the count, as
the sail flapped lazily against the mast.

"It's no use, yer honor," said the elder. "We'll be only breaking our
hearts to no purpose. They're sure to catch us."

"Do as I bade you, at all events. What's that ahead of us there?"

"The Oat Rock, sir. A vessel with grain struck there and went down with
all aboard, four years last winter. There's no channel between it and the
shore,--all sunk rocks, every inch of it. There's the breeze."

The canvas fell over as he spoke, and the little craft lay down to it till
the foaming water bubbled over her lee bow.

"Keep her head up, sir; higher--higher still."

But Considine little heeded the direction, steering straight for the narrow
channel the man alluded to.

"Tear and ages, but you're going right for the cloch na quirka!"

"Arrah, an' the devil a taste I'll be drowned for your devarsion!" said the
other, springing up.

"Sit down there, and be still," roared Considine, as he drew a pistol from
the case at his feet, "if you don't want some leaden ballast to keep you
so! Here, Charley, take this, and if that fellow stirs hand or foot--you
understand me."

The two men sat sulkily in the bottom of the boat