“And were such things possible on the justice-seat?” exclaimed Mary, in horror.
“Ah, my dear young lady, I could tell you of far worse than that. There was a time in this country when the indictment against the prisoner was Secondary in importance to his general character, his party, his connections, and fifty other things which had no bearing upon criminality. There goes another shot! I 'll swear to that,” cried he, pulling up short, and looking in the direction from which the report proceeded.
Mary turned at the same moment, and pointed with her whip towards a beech wood that skirted the foot of the mountain.
“Was it from that quarter the sound came?” said she.
The sharp crack of a fowling-piece, quickly followed by a second report, now decided the question; and, as if by mutual consent, they both wheeled their horses round, and set off at a brisk canter towards the wood.
“I have taken especial pains about preserving this part of the estate,” said Mary, as they rode along. “It was my cousin Harry's favorite cover when he was last at home, and he left I can't say how many directions about it when quitting us; though, to say truth, I never deemed any precautions necessary till he spoke of it.”
“So that poaching was unknown down here?”
“Almost completely so; now and then some idle fellow with a half-bred greyhound might run down a hare, or with a rusty firelock knock over a rabbit, but there it ended. And as we have no gentry neighbors to ask for leave, and the Oughterard folks would not venture on that liberty, I may safely say that the report of a gun is a rare event in these solitudes.”
“Whoever he be, yonder, is not losing time,” said Rep-ton; “there was another shot.”
Their pace had now become a smart half-gallop; Mary, a little in advance, leading the way, and pointing out the safe ground to her companion. As they drew nigh the wood, however, she slackened speed till he came up, and then said,—