“Shure an’ we will, sor; but to go forward’s to go into prishn for you and to be dancing on nothing for me. Come on, sor. Let’s catch up to me poor freckened darlin’, and then tak’ to the woods.”
They hurried back in pursuit of their companion, but fear had made her fleet of foot, and in spite of their efforts they did not overtake her.
“She’ll have gone back to her quarthers,” said Dinny dismally. “Shall we go back to ours?”
“No!” cried Humphrey imperiously. “Good heavens, man! our absence has been found out before now. Let’s take to the woods or hide in one of the ruins till we can get away.”
“Shure an’ ye’re roight, sor. They’ve been afther ye, av coorse, and I’ve been missed and can’t show meself now widout being thrated as a thraitor. Will ye thrust to me, and I’ll find a place!”
“Trust you? yes,” said Humphrey; “but what do you propose doing?”
“Doing, sor? Hoiding till we can find a chansh of getting away.”
“Where will you hide?”
“Ye said ye’d thrust me, sor,” whispered Dinny. “Come on.”