e of an
insolent depreciation of his adversary. "An Irishman would not need a
broader hint!"

It grew darker--the mountains frowned heavily beneath the canopy of
clouds, and night was rapidly approaching, when, from the gloom of his
almost extinguished hope, Mark was suddenly aroused. He heard the tramp
of a horse's feet; the dull reverberation on the deep snow filled the
air, and sometimes they seemed to come from the opposite part of the
glen, when the pace slackened, and, at last, the sounds became almost
inaudible.

"There is yet enough of daylight, if we move into the broad road," was
Mark's soliloquy, as he stooped his ear to listen--and at the instant,
he beheld a man leading his horse by the bridle, while he himself seemed
seeking along the road-side, where the snowdrift had not yet fallen, as
if for some lost object. A glance, even by the imperfect light, and at
some thirty paces off showed Mark it was not him he sought, and were
it not that the attitude attracted his curiosity, he had not wasted a
second look on him; but the horseman by this time had halted, and was
scraping with his whip-handle amid the pebbles of the mountain rivulet.

"I'll never see it again--it's no use!" was the exclamation of the
seeker, as he gathered up his reins, and prepared to mount.

"Is that Lanty Lawler?" cried Mark, as he recognised the voice; "I say,
did you meet with a young officer riding down the glen, in the direction
of Carrig-na-curra?"

"No, indeed, Mr. Mark--I never saw living thing since I left Bantry."

The young man paused for a few seconds--and then, as if anxious to turn
all thought from his question, said, "What have you lost thereabouts?"

"Oh, more than I am worth in the world!" was the answer, in a deep,
heart-drawn sigh--"but, blessed heaven! what's the pistols for? Oh,
Master Mark, dear--sure--sure----"

"Sure what?" cried the youth, with a hoarse laugh--"Sure, I'm not turned
highway robber! Is that what you want to say? Make your mind easy,
Lanty--I have not reached that point yet; though, if indifference to
life might tempt a man, I'd not say it is so far off."

"'Tis a duel, then," cried Lanty quickly; "but, I hope you wouldn't
fight without seconds. Oh, that's downright murder--what did he do to
you?--was it one of the fellows you met in Cork?"

"You are all wrong," said Mark, sullenly. "It is enough, however, that
neither of us seem to have found what he was seeking. You have your
secret; I