"No, none of that!" said a voice. "You'll come with me, miss, and the fewer questions you axes the better."
A rough man of powerful build, with a piece of crape tied across his eyes, rushed suddenly forward in the moonlight. He drew a thick cloth over the girl's head and shoulders, a pair of strong arms encircled her waist; she found herself lifted from the ground, and knew that she was being carried rapidly away.
CHAPTER XXVI. A TERRIBLE NIGHT.
There was great fun and excitement at Castle Mahun that night, and Janet's absence was not in the least noticed.
It was a moonlight night, and the squire's will and pleasure was that every member of the household who cared to come should assemble on the wide terrace outside the Castle to hear Biddy play some of the Irish melodies on her harp.
Biddy's performances were well worth listening to. From far and near the heterogeneous crowd who were wont to throng to the Castle assembled to hear her.
"The Harp that once through Tara's Halls" floated on the night breeze. The wild, sweet melody sounded quite eerie, and caused two excited boys to shiver as they listened. They were thinking of Janet on the Witch's Island, and longing for the moment when they might fly down to the boat, row across to the island, and release her from captivity.
"A jig! Let us have a jig!" shouted the squire. "Come, Biddy, colleen, you and Pat give us all an Irish jig."