And I seized the bridle of his horse and turned its head, and led it towards the Little Gate.
“Not that way,” said he wildly. “I have just come from thence.”
Then he gathered himself and his wits together.
“The Great Gate is best. Ay, this is no place now for me any more than it is for you. Well said you that. We will go together; but let us not go too swiftly, otherwise the watch, suspecting something is wrong, will not let us pass. We have a few minutes to spare before the gates can be closed. Do you walk a little way behind me.”
I had replaced the cowl about my head, and, hardly knowing whether to be glad or sorry at what had fallen out, marched at a rapid pace after him up the street of the Great Gate.
Richard Burke was well known to the watch, and no objection was made to our passing out. As long as we were within sight of the walls we went at a walk, but when a turn of the road had hid them from us, I grasped the saddle-cloth and ran beside the horse, which its rider now urged along at the top of its speed.
We had gone about two miles, and had gained an eminence partly sheltered by trees, when, looking back, we saw the figures of horsemen spurring after us out of the city. On we sped again, until I could run no more. Then I besought Burke to leave me as I was spent and blown. But this he would not hearken to at first.
“It will be a strange thing,” said I, “if I cannot conceal myself somewhere in the trees and bushes, or among the rocks, for the night. In the morning I will make my way back to the galley.”
And I persuaded him to ride on towards his own territory, but not before he had told me that Sir Nicholas had drawn a force of a hundred men from Athlone, everyone of whom was a trained and hardened soldier, and with these, his own men, and the gallowglasses of Sir Morrough O’Flaherty of Aughnanure, who had promised to support him, was about to set out at once for our overthrow.
The Governor was terribly enraged against us, and in his anger at the destruction of the wine fleet had sworn he would make an end of us all. His wrath burned not only against Grace O’Malley, but against many others of the Irish, and there had been such a killing and a hanging of those who were thought hostile to the government as had never before been seen or heard of in Galway.