“Oh, fly, Mark; don't lose a second, for heaven's sake.——”
“And leave you here to the mercy of this scoundrel and his bloodhounds.”
“No, no; we are safe here; he dare not wreak his vengeance on us; but you are his greatest enemy.”
“'Tis thrue she's sayin',” cried Kerry, eagerly; “I heerd Hemsworth say to Sam Wylie, that Captain Travers is up at Macroom with his regiment, and was coming down to guard the castle here; but that there was plenty of time to take you before he came, and there was a tree standing to hang you, besides.”
“I leave you, then, in safe keeping,” said Mark, with a touch of sarcasm in his voice; “one word of good-bye to my father, and I am gone.”
It was some moments before the O'Donoghue could rally from the deep stupor grief and anxiety induced, and recognize Mark as he leaned over his chair; and then as he felt his hands and clutched his arms, he seemed endeavouring to persuade himself that it was not some passing dream he laboured under.
“The pursuit is too hot, father,” said Mark, after two or three efforts to arouse his mind to what was going forward, “and I must be off. Hemsworth has a strong party in the glen; but fear nothing; he cannot molest you; and, besides, his time is brief now.”
“And will you leave me, Mark; will you desert me now?” said the old man, with all the selfishness of age, forgetting every thing, save his own feelings.
“Not if you wish me to remain; if you think there is more honour in my being taken prisoner under your own roof, I'm just as willing.”
“Oh, no, uncle,” cried Kate, rushing forward; “do not keep him; say good-bye, and speedily; the dragoons are advancing already.”