“There,” said I, dragging them to the roadside, “you’ll do till we send the police to fetch you.—Your honour,” said I, “I chanced to hear of this plot against your life last night. Thank Heaven I was in time to help you and the young mistress! Maybe you’ll do well to take a brace of police about with you when you travel, and leave the young lady at home. She will be safer there.”
“Stay, Gallagher,” said his honour, as I saluted and turned to go; “you must not go like this. I have questions to ask you.”
“And I,” said Miss Kit. “Don’t go, Barry.”
“The gig will only hold two,” said I; “but if his honour gives me leave, I’ll be at Knockowen to-morrow.”
“Certainly,” said Gorman. “And, Barry, say nothing of this. Leave me to deal with it.”
“As your honour pleases. Besides these two by the roadside, you’ll find a boy on the top of yonder boulder who wants a lift to the lock-up.”
“Don’t forget to-morrow, Barry,” said my lady with her sweetest smile and wave of the hand, as she gathered the reins together.
I stood cap in hand till they had disappeared round the bend, and then took a final look at my captives.
“So you are Barry Gallagher?” snarled the secretary.
“What of that?”