ll groomed, a sword by his side. His
figure struck Neal as being familiar. A second glance made him sure that
this was Maurice St. Clair. For a moment he hesitated. Then he said--

"Maurice."

"Neal," said the other, turning quickly. "What brings you here? God,
man, you mustn't stay. My father is in the house and Lord O'Neill. Thank
God the rest of them are gone."

"What brings you and your father to Antrim, Maurice?"

"There was to have been a meeting of the magistrates of the county here
to-day. My father rode in last night and brought me with him, but there
came an orderly from Belfast this morning with news which fluttered our
company. The rebels are to attack the town to-day. Oh, Neal, but it was
fun to see the hurry the worshipful justices were in to get home this
morning. There were a round dozen of them here last night drinking death
and damnation to the croppies till the small hours. This morning it
was who would get his breakfast and his horse first. You never saw such
scrambling."

"You and your father stayed," said Neal.

"Yes. Is it likely my lord would ride away from danger? You know him,
Neal."

The girl entered with a basket on her arm. With a glance at Maurice St.
Clair she came close to Neal and whispered--

"There's for you. There's plenty wine and cold meat for half a score.
I'll be tongued by the master after, it's like, but I'll give it for the
sake of Jemmy Hope, who's a better gentleman than them that wears finer
coats, that never said a hard word or did an uncivil thing to a poor
serving wench no more than if she'd been the first lady in the land."

Neal took the basket and bade farewell to Maurice, but as he turned to
leave the room Lord Dunseveric and another gentleman entered. Neal stood
back, hoping to escape notice, but Lord Dunseveric saw and recognised
him.

"O'Neill," he said to his companion, "pardon me a moment. This is a
young friend of mine to whom I would speak a word."

He led Neal to the window.

"Are you on your way home, Neal?"

"No, my lord."

"I suppose I must not ask where you are going or what you mean to do. I
don't ask, but I advise you strongly to go home. The game is up, Neal.
The plans of your friends have been blown upon. Their secrets are known.
See here."

He held out a printed paper. Neal took it and read--

"To-morrow we march on Antrim. Drive the garrison of Randalstown before
you, and haste to form a junction with the commander-in-chief.--Hen