“The case of danger before all others, any day. I'll turn about at once and see what can be done for the lad.”
Sir Marmaduke leaned towards him, and said some words hastily in a low whispering voice.
“Never fear—never fear, Sir Marmaduke,” was the reply, as he mounted to the seat of his vehicle, and turned the pony's head once more down the glen.
“Lose no time, I beseech you,” cried the old man, waving his hand in token of adieu; nor was the direction unheeded, for, using his whip with redoubled energy, the doctor sped along the road at a canter, which threatened annihilation to the frail vehicle at every bound of the animal.
“Five hundred!” muttered Sir Marmaduke to himself, as he looked after him. “I'd give half my fortune to see him safe through it.”
Meanwhile Roach proceeded on his way, speculating on all the gain this fortunate meeting might bring to him, and then meditating what reasons he should allege to the O'Donoghue for his speedy return.
“I'll tell him a lucky thought struck me in the glen,” muttered he; “or, what! if I said I forgot something—a pocket-book, or case of instruments—any thing will do;” and, with this comfortable reflection, he urged his beast onward.
The night was falling as he once more ascended the steep and narrow causeway, which led to the old keep; and here, now, Kerry O'Leary was closing the heavy but time-worn gate, and fastening it with many a bolt and bar, as though aught within could merit so much precaution. The sound of wheels seemed suddenly to have caught the huntsman's ear, for he hastily shut down the massive hasp that secured the bar of the gate, and as quickly opened a little latched window, which, barred with iron, resembled the grated aperture of a convent door.
