42

V. THE MESS-ROOM AT TRALEE 57

VI. THE MAITRE D'ARMES 72

VII. BARGAINING 90

VIII. AN AFTER-DINNER GAME 103

IX. EARLY RISERS 119

X. A COUNCIL OF WAR 136

XI. A MESSAGE FOR THE YOUNG MASTER 154

XII. THE SEA MIST 171

XIII. A SLIP 187

XIV. THE COLONEL'S TERMS 202

XV. FEMINA FURENS 218

XVI. THE MARPLOT 235

XVII. THE LIMIT 251

XVIII. A COUNTERPLOT 268

XIX. PEINE FORTE ET DURE 285

XX. AN UNWELCOME VISITOR 301

XXI. THE KEY 320

XXII. THE SCENE IN THE PASSAGE 336

XXIII. BEHIND THE YEWS 350

XXIV. THE PITCHER AT THE WELL 368

XXV. PEACE 378

CHAPTER I

ON BOARD THE "CORMORANT" SLOOP

Midway in that period of Ireland's history during which, according to
historians, the distressful country had none--to be more precise, on a
spring morning early in the eighteenth century, and the reign of George
the First, a sloop of about seventy tons burthen was beating up Dingle
Bay, in the teeth of a stiff easterly breeze. The sun was two hours
high, and the grey expanse of the bay was flecked with white horses
hurrying seaward in haste to leap upon the Blasquets, or to disport
themselves in the field of ocean. From the heaving deck of the vessel
the mountains that shall not be removed were visible--on the northerly
tack Brandon, on the southerly Carntual; the former sunlit, with
patches of moss gleaming like emeralds on its breast, the latter dark
and melancholy, clothed in the midst of tradition and fancy that in
those days garbed so much of Ireland's bog and hill.

The sloop had missed the tide, and, close hauled to the wind, rode deep
in the ebb, making little way with each tack. The breeze hummed through
the rigging. The man at the helm humped a shoulder to the sting of the
spray, and the rest of the crew, seven or eight in number--tarry,
pigtailed,