Read One of the 28th: A Tale of Waterloo Page 10


  CHAPTER X.

  ON DETACHMENT.

  Ralph was soon at home in the regiment. He found his comrades a cheeryand pleasant set of men, ready to assist the newly-joined youngofficers as far as they could. A few rough practical jokes wereplayed; but Ralph took them with such perfect good temper that theywere soon abandoned.

  He applied himself very earnestly to mastering the mystery of drill,and it was not long before he was pronounced to be efficient, and hewas then at Captain O'Connor's request appointed to his company, inwhich there happened to be a vacancy for an ensign. He had had thegood luck to have an excellent servant assigned to him. Denis Mulliganwas a thoroughly handy fellow, could turn his hand to anything, andwas always good tempered and cheery.

  "The fellow is rather free and easy in his ways," Captain O'Connortold Ralph when he allotted the man to him; "but you will getaccustomed to that. Keep your whisky locked up, and I think you willbe safe in all other respects with him. He was servant to CaptainDaly, who was killed at Toulouse, and I know Daly wouldn't have partedwith him on any account. His master's death almost broke Denis' heart,and I have no doubt he will get just as much attached to you in time.These fellows have their faults, and want a little humoring; but, takethem as a whole, I would rather have an Irish soldier servant than oneof any other nationality, provided always that he is not too fond ofthe bottle. About once in three months I consider reasonable, and Idon't think you will find Mulligan break out more frequently thanthat."

  Ralph never regretted the choice O'Connor had made for him, and foundDenis an excellent servant; and his eccentricities and the opinionswhich he freely expressed afforded him a constant source of amusement.

  A few days later Captain O'Connor came into his room. "Pack up yourkit. The company is ordered on detached duty, and there is an end toyour dancing and flirting."

  "I don't know about flirting," Ralph laughed. "As far as I can see youdo enough for the whole company in that way. But where are we goingto?"

  "We are ordered to Ballyporrit. An out of the way hole as a man couldwish to be buried in. It seems that there are a lot of stills at workin the neighborhood. The gauger has applied for military aid. A nicejob we have got before us. I have had my turn at it before, and knowwhat it means. Starting at nightfall, tramping ten or fifteen milesover the hills and through bogs, and arriving at last at some wretchedhut only to find a wretched old woman sitting by a peat fire, anddivil a sign of still or mash tubs or anything else. We start thefirst thing to-morrow morning; so you had better get your kit packedand your flask filled to-night. We have nineteen miles march beforeus, and a pretty bad road to travel. I have just been in to Desmond'squarters, and he is tearing his hair at the thought of having to leavethe gayeties of Cork."

  "I think it is a nice change," Ralph said, "and shall be very glad tohave done with all these parties and balls. Ballyporrit is near thesea, isn't it?"

  "Yes. About a mile away, I believe. Nearly forty miles from here."

  The detachment marched next morning. Ralph enjoyed the novelty of themarch, but was not sorry when at the end of the second day's trampthey reached the village. The men were quartered in the houses of thevillagers, and the officers took rooms at the inn. Except when engagedin expeditions to capture stills--of which they succeeded in findingnearly a score--there was not much to do at Ballyporrit. All thegentry resident within a wide circle called upon them, and invitationsto dinners and dances flowed in rapidly. As one officer was obliged toremain always in the village with the detachment, Ralph seldom availedhimself of these invitations. O'Connor and Lieutenant Desmond wereboth fond of society; and, as Ralph very much preferred stayingquietly in his quarters, he was always ready to volunteer to take dutyupon these occasions.

  Ballyporrit lay within a mile of the sea, and Ralph, when he hadnothing else to do, frequently walked to the edge of the cliffs, andsat there hour after hour watching the sea breaking among the rocksthree or four hundred feet below him, and the sea-birds flying hereand there over the water, and occasionally dashing down to itssurface. A few fishing boats could be seen, but it was seldom that adistant sail was visible across the water; for not one vessel in thosedays sailed for the west to every fifty that now cross the Atlantic.The rocks upon which he sat rose in most places almost sheer up fromthe edge of the sea; but occasionally they fell away, and a goodclimber could make his way over the rough rocks and bowlders down tothe water's edge. As, however, there was nothing to be gained by it,Ralph never made the attempt.

  Looking back over the land the view was a dreary one. There was not ahuman habitation within sight, the hills were covered with brownheather, while in the bottoms lay bogs, deep and treacherous to thosewho knew not the way across. It was rarely that a human figure wasvisible. Once or twice a day a revenue man came along the edge of thecliff, and would generally stop for a talk with Ralph.

  "There was," he said, "a good deal of smuggling carried on along thatpart of the coast during the war; but there is not so much of it now,though no doubt a cargo is run now and then. It does not pay as it didwhen the French ports were all closed, and there was not a drop ofbrandy to be had save that which was run by the smugglers. Now thattrade is open again there is only the duty to save, and I fancy a goodmany of the boats have gone out of the business. You see, the revenuehas got its agents in the French ports, and gets news from them whatcraft are over there loading, and what part of the coast they comefrom. Along the English coast there is still a good deal of it. Therelace pays well; but there is not much sale for lace in Ireland, andnot much sale for brandy either, excepting in the towns. The peasantsand farmers would not thank you for it when they can get home-madewhisky for next to nothing."

  "I suppose that there is a good deal of that going on."

  "Any amount of it, sir. For every still that is captured I reckonthere must be a hundred at work that no one dreams of, and will be aslong as barley grows and there are bogs and hills all over thecountry, and safe hiding-places where no one not in the secret woulddream of searching. The boys know that we are not in their line ofbusiness, and mind our own affairs. If it were not for that, I cantell you, I wouldn't go along these cliffs at night for any pay theking would give me; for I know that before a week would be out my bodywould be found some morning down there on the rocks, and the coroner'sjury would bring in a verdict of tumbled over by accident, althoughthere wouldn't be a man of them but would know better."

  "Well, I am sure I don't want to find out anything about them. Ibelong to the detachment in Ballyporrit, and of course if the gaugercalls upon us we must march out and aid him in seizing a still. Butbeyond that it's no affair of ours."

  And yet although he so seldom saw any one to speak to, Ralph hadsometimes a sort of uncomfortable feeling that he was being watched.Once or twice he had caught a glimpse of what he thought was a man'shead among some rocks; but on walking carelessly to the spot he couldsee no signs of any one. Another time, looking suddenly round, he sawa boy standing at the edge of some boggy ground where the land dippedsuddenly away some two hundred yards from the edge of the cliff; butdirectly he saw that he was observed he took to his heels, andspeedily disappeared down the valley.

  Ralph did not trouble himself about these matters, nor did he see anyreason why any one should interest himself in his movements. Had hewandered about among the hills inland he might be taken for a spytrying to find out some of the hidden stills; but sitting here at theedge of the cliff watching the sea, surely no such absurd suspicioncould fall upon him. Had he been there at night the smugglers mighthave suspected him of keeping watch for them; but smugglers neverattempted to run their cargoes in broad daylight, and he never camedown there after dark. One day a peasant came strolling along. He wasa powerful-looking man and carried a heavy stick. Ralph was lying onhis back looking up at the clouds and did not hear the man approachtill he was close to him, then with a quick movement he sprang to hisfeet.

  "I did not hear you coming," he said. "You have given me quite astart."
r />   "It's a fine day, yer honor, for sleeping on the turf here," the mansaid civilly.

  "I was not asleep," Ralph said; "though I own that I was getting onfor it."

  "Is yer honor expecting to meet any one here?" the man asked. "Sure,it's a mighty lonesome sort of place."

  "No, I am not expecting any one. I have only come out for a look atthe sea. I am never tired of looking at that."

  "It's a big lot of water, surely," the man replied, looking over thesea with an air of interest as if the sight were altogether novel tohim. "A powerful lot of water. And I have heard them say that youoften come out here?"

  "Yes, I often come out," Ralph assented.

  "Don't you think now it is dangerous so near the edge of the cliff,yer honor? Just one step and over you would go, and it would be tenchances to one that the next tide would drift your body away, anddivil a one know what had become of you."

  "But I don't mean to take a false step," Ralph said.

  "Sure, there is many a one takes a false step when he isn't dreamingabout it; and if ye didn't tumble over by yourself, just a push woulddo it."

  "Yes, but there is no one to give one a push," Ralph said.

  "Maybe and maybe not," the man replied. "I don't say if I was agentleman, and could spind me time as I liked, that I would be sittinghere on the edge of these cliffs, where you might come to harm anyminute."

  "I have no fear of coming to harm," Ralph answered; "and I should besorry for any one who tried. I always carry a pistol. Not that I thinkthere is any chance of having to use it but it's always as well to beprepared."

  "It is that, yer honor, always as well; but I don't think I should bealways coming out here if I was you."

  "Why not, my good fellow? I harm no one, and interfere with no one.Surely it is open to me to come here and look at the sea without anyone taking offense at it."

  "That's as it may be, yer honor. Anyhow I have told you what I thinkof it. Good-morning to you."

  "I wonder what that fellow meant," Ralph said, looking after him. "Hemeant something, I feel certain, though what it is I can't imagine. Ithought it was as well to let him know that I had a pistol handy,though he didn't look as if he intended mischief. I suppose after thisI had better not come here so often, though I have not the remotestidea in the world why I should annoy any one more by standing herethan if I was standing on the cliff in front of Dover Castle. However,it certainly is a lonely place, and I should have precious littlechance if two or three men took it into their heads to attack mehere."

  "They are queer people these Irish peasants of yours, O'Connor," Ralphsaid as they sat at dinner that evening.

  "What's the matter with them now, Conway?"

  "One can't even go and look at the sea from their cliffs without theirtaking it amiss," and Ralph related the conversation he had had withthe peasant, adding that he was convinced he had been watched wheneverhe went there.

  "It is curious, certainly," the captain said when he had finished. "Nodoubt they think you are spying after something; but that would nottrouble them unless there was something they were afraid of yourfinding out. Either there has been something going on, or there issome hiding-place down there on the face of the cliff, where maybethey have a still at work. Anyhow, I don't think I should neglect thewarning, Conway. You might be killed and thrown over the cliff, and noone be the wiser for it. I should certainly advise you to give upmooning about."

  "But there is nothing to do in this wretched village," Ralph saiddiscontentedly.

  "Not if you stop in the village, I grant; but you might do as Desmondand I do when we are off duty; go over and take lunch at the Ryans',or Burkes', or any of the other families where we have a standinginvitation. They are always glad to see one, and there's plenty of funto be had."

  "That's all very well for you, O'Connor. You are a captain and asingle man, and one of their countrymen, with lots to say foryourself; but it is a different thing with me altogether. I can't dropin and make myself at home as you do."

  "Why, you are not shy, Conway?" O'Connor said in affected horror."Surely such a disgrace has not fallen on his majesty's Twenty-eighthRegiment that one of its officers is shy? Such a thing is not recordedin its annals."

  "I am afraid it will have to be recorded now," laughed Ralph. "For Iown that I am shy; if you call shy, feeling awkward and uncomfortablewith a lot of strange people, especially ladies."

  "Do not let it be whispered outside," O'Connor said, "or thereputation of the regiment is gone forever among Irish girls. Desmond,this is a sad business. What are we to do with this man? You and Imust consult together how this thing is to be cured."

  "No, no, O'Connor," Ralph said earnestly, knowing how fond O'Connorwas of practical jokes, and dreading that he and the lieutenant wouldbe putting him in some ridiculous position or other. "You will nevercure me if you set about it. I shall get over it in time; but it's thesort of thing that becomes ten times worse if you attempt to cure it."

  "We must think it over, my lad," O'Connor said seriously. "This is aserious defect in your character; and as your commanding officer Iconsider it my bounden duty, both for your sake and that of theregiment, to take it into serious consideration and see what is to bedone. You may never have such a chance again of being cured as youhave here; for if a man goes away from Ireland without being cured ofshyness his case is an absolutely hopeless one. Desmond, you must turnthis matter seriously over in your mind, and I will do the same. Andnow it is time for us to be starting for the dance at the Regans'. Iam sorry you can't go with us, Desmond, as you are on duty."

  "I shall be very glad to take your duty, Desmond," Ralph said eagerly."I told you so this morning, and I thought you agreed."

  "As your commanding officer," O'Connor said gravely, "I cannot permitthe exchange to be made, Mr. Conway. You have your duty to perform tothe regiment as well as Mr. Desmond, and your duty clearly is to goout and make yourself agreeable. I am surprised after what I have justbeen saying that you should think of staying at home."

  "Well, of course, if you want me to go I will go," Ralph saidreluctantly. "But I don't know the Regans, and don't want to."

  "That is very ungracious, Conway. Mr. Regan is a retired pork merchantof Cork. He has given up his business and bought an estate here, andsettled down as a country gentleman. They say his father was apig-driver in Waterford. That's why he has bought a place on this sideof the county. But people have been rather shy of them; because,though he could buy three-fourths of them up, his money smells ofpork. Still, as the election is coming on, they have relaxed a bit.He's got the militia band, and there will be lashings of everything;and his girls are nice girls, whether their father sold pork or not.And it would be nothing short of cruel if we, the representatives ofhis majesty's army, did not put in an appearance; especially as wehave doubtless eaten many a barrel of his salt pork at sea. So put onyour number one coatee and let's be off."

  With a sign Ralph rose to carry out his orders, and he would have beenstill more reluctant to go had he observed the sly wink that passedbetween his captain and lieutenant.

  "He is quite refreshing, that boy," O'Connor said as the door closedbehind Ralph. "That adventure in the West Indies showed he has plentyof pluck and presence of mind; but he is as shy as a girl. Though Idon't know why I should say that, for it's mighty few of them have anyshyness about them. He will grow out of it. I was just the same myselfwhen I was his age."

  Lieutenant Desmond burst into a roar of laughter.

  "I should have liked to have known you then, O'Connor."

  O'Connor joined in the laugh.

  "It's true though, Desmond. I was brought up by two maiden aunts inthe town of Dundalk, and they were always bothering me about mymanners; so that though I could hold my own in a slanging match downby the riverside, I was as awkward as a young bear when in genteelcompany. They used to have what they called tea-parties--and a fearfulinfliction they were--and I was expected to hand round the tea andcakes, and make myself useful. I think I
might have managed wellenough if the old women would have let me alone; but they were alwaysexpecting me to do something wrong, and I was conscious that whateverthey were doing they had an eye upon me.

  "It's trying, you know, when you hear exclamations like this: 'Thesaints presarve us! if he hasn't nearly poked his elbow into Mrs.Fitzgerald's eye!' or, 'See now, if he isn't standing on Miss Macrae'strain!' One day I let a cup of coffee fall on to old Mrs. O'Toole'snew crimson silk dress. It was the first she had had for nine years tomy knowledge, and would have lasted her for the rest of her naturallife. And if you could have heard the squall she made, and theexclamations of my aunts, and the general excitement over thatwretched cup of coffee, you would never have forgotten it.

  "It had one good result, I was never asked to hand things round againand was indeed never expected to put in an appearance until thetea-things were taken away. I suffered for months for that silk dress.My aunts got two yards of material and presented them to Mrs. O'Toole;and for weeks and weeks I got short allowance of butter to my breadand no sugar in my tea, and had to hear remarks as to the necessityfor being economical. As for Mrs. O'Toole she never forgave me, andwas always saying spiteful things. But I got even with her once. Oneevening the doctor, who was her partner at whist, was called out, andI was ordered to take his place. Now, I played a pretty good game atwhist, better than the doctor did by a long chalk I flattered myself;but I didn't often play at home unless I was wanted to make up atable, and very glad I was to get out of it, for the ill-temper ofthose old harridans when they lost was something fearful.

  "It was only penny points, but if they had been playing for fivepounds they couldn't have taken it more to heart; and of course if Ihad the misfortune of being their partner they put it down entirely tomy bad play. Well, we held good cards, and at last we only wanted theodd trick to win. I held the last trump. Mrs. O'Toole was beaming asshe led the best spade, and felt that the game was won. I could notresist the temptation, but put my trump on her spade, led my smallcard, and the game was lost. Mrs. O'Toole gave a scream and sank backin her chair almost fainting, and when she recovered her breath andher voice went on like a maniac, and had a desperate quarrel with myaunts. I made my escape, and three days later, to my huge delight, wassent off to Dublin and entered the university. I only stayed thereabout six months, when a friend of my father's got me a commission;but that six months cured me of my shyness."

  "I am not surprised," Desmond laughed; "it can only have been skindeep, I fancy, O'Connor."

  "I will give Conway his first lesson to-night," the captain said.

  Dancing had already begun when Captain O'Connor and Ralph drove up ina dog-cart to the Regans', who lived some four miles from Ballyporrit.O'Connor introduced Ralph to his host, and then hurried away. In ashort time he was deep in conversation with Miss Tabitha Regan, whowas some years younger than her brother, and still believed herself tobe quite a girl. She was gorgeously arrayed with a plume of noddingfeathers in her headdress.

  "You are looking splendid to-night, Miss Regan," O'Connor said in atone of deep admiration. "You do not give your nieces a chance."

  "Ah! you are flattering me, Captain O'Connor."

  "Not at all, Miss Regan; it's quite a sensation you make. My youngfriend Conway was tremendously struck with your appearance, and askedme who that splendid woman was." Which was true enough, except for theword "splendid;" for as they had walked through the room Ralph's eyeshad fallen upon her, and he had exclaimed in astonishment, "Who onearth is that woman, O'Connor?"

  "He is dying to be introduced to you. He is a little young, you know;but of good family, and may come into a lot of money one of thesedays. Only son, and all that. May I introduce him?"

  "How you do go on, Captain O'Connor," Miss Tabitha said, muchflattered. "By all means introduce him."

  O'Connor made his way back to Ralph.

  "Come along, Ralph; I will introduce you to our host's sister, MissRegan. Charming creature, and lots of money. Awfully struck with yourappearance. Come on, man; don't be foolish," and, hooking his arm inRalph's, he led him across the room to the lady Ralph had beforenoticed.

  "Miss Regan, this is my brother-officer, Mr. Conway, Ralph, this isMiss Regan, our host's sister, although you would take her for hisdaughter. Miss Regan, Mr. Conway is most anxious to have the pleasureof the next dance with you if you are not engaged."

  Ralph murmured something in confirmation, and Miss Regan at once stoodup and placed her hand in his arm. Ralph gave a reproachful glance athis captain as he moved away. Fortunately, he was not called upon tosay much, for Miss Regan burst out:

  "It is too bad of you not having been here before, Mr. Conway--quiterude of you. Captain O'Connor has spoken of you frequently, and wegirls have been quite curious to see you. There is the music strikingup. I think we had better take our places. I suppose as I am at thehead of my brother's house we had better take the place at the top."

  Ralph never forgot that dance. Miss Regan danced with amazingsprightliness, performing wonderful steps. Her ostrich plumes seemedto whirl round and round him, he had a painful feeling that every onewas grinning, and a mad desire to rush out of the house and makestraight for his quarters.

  "Your aunt is going it," Captain O'Connor remarked to one of thedaughters of the house with whom he was dancing. "She sets quite anexample to us young people."

  The girl laughed. "She is very peculiar, Captain O'Connor; but it iscruel of you to laugh at her. I do wish she wouldn't wear suchwonderful headdresses; but she once went to court a good many yearsago at Dublin, and somebody told her that her headdress became her,and she has worn plumes ever since."

  "I am not laughing at her, Miss Regan," O'Connor said gravely; "I amadmiring her. Conway is doing nobly too."

  "I think he looks almost bewildered," the girl laughed. "It's a shame,Captain O'Connor. I was standing quite close by when you introducedhim, and I could see by your face that you were playing a joke uponhim."

  "I was performing a kindly action, Miss Regan. The lad's young and alittle bashful, and I ventured to insinuate to your aunt that headmired her."

  "Well, you shall introduce him to me next," the girl said. "I like hislooks."

  "Shall I tell him that, Miss Regan?"

  "If you do I will never speak to you again."

  As soon as the dance was over Captain O'Connor strolled up with hispartner to the spot where Miss Tabitha was fanning herself violently,Ralph standing helplessly alongside.

  "That was a charming dance, Miss Regan. You surpassed yourself. Let merecommend a slight refreshment; will you allow me to offer you my arm?Miss Regan, allow me to introduce my brother-officer, Mr. Conway."

  Ralph, who had not caught the name, bowed to the girl thus leftsuddenly beside him and offered her his arm.

  "Why, you look warm already, Mr. Conway," she began.

  "Warm is no word for it," Ralph said bluntly. "Did you see thatwonderful old lady I have been dancing with?"

  "That is my aunt, Mr. Conway; but she is rather wonderful all thesame."

  Ralph had thought before that he was as hot as it was possible for aman to be; but he found now that he was mistaken.

  "I beg your pardon," he stammered. "I did not catch your name; but ofcourse I oughtn't to have said anything."

  "I wonder you didn't see the likeness," the girl said demurely. "Myaunt considers there is a great likeness between us."

  "I am sure I cannot see it the least bit in the world," Ralph saidemphatically; "not the smallest. But I hope you forgive me for thatunfortunate remark; but the fact is, I felt a little bewildered at thetime. I am not much of a dancer, and your aunt is really so energeticthat I had to exert myself to the utmost to keep up with her."

  "I think you did admirably, Mr. Conway. We quite admired you both.There," she said laughing at Ralph's confusion, "you need not beafraid about my not forgiving you for the remark. Everyone knows thatAunt Tabitha and we girls never get on very well together; and shedoes make herself dreadfully ridicu
lous, and I think it was too bad ofCaptain O'Connor putting you up with her."

  "Thank you, Miss Regan," Ralph said earnestly. "The fact is I haven'tjoined long, and I don't care much for parties. You see, I have onlyleft school a few months, and haven't got accustomed to talk to ladiesyet; and O'Connor--who is always up to some fun or other--did it justto cure what he calls my shyness. However, I can quite forgive himnow."

  "I don't think you are so very shy, Mr. Conway," Miss Regan said witha smile. "That last sentence was very pretty, and if I had not hold ofyour arm I should make you a courtesy."

  "No, please don't do that," Ralph said, coloring hotly. "I didn't meananything, you know."

  "Now, don't spoil it. You meant I suppose, what was quite proper youshould mean, that Captain O'Connor by introducing me to you had madeup for his last delinquency."

  "Yes, that is what I did mean," Ralph agreed.

  "Captain O'Connor tells me that you have been through all sorts ofadventures, Mr. Conway--been carried off by a French privateer, andtaken to a pirate island, and done all sorts of things."

  "The 'all sorts of things' did not amount to much, Miss Regan. I mademyself as useful as I could, and picked up French; and at last whenthe privateer sailed away I walked down to the shore and met oursailors when they landed. There was, I can assure you, nothing in anyway heroic about the part I had to play."

  "Still it was an adventure."

  "Oh! yes, it was that; and upon the whole I think I liked it, exceptwhen there was a chance of having a fight with our own people."

  "That would have been dreadful. What would you have done?"

  "Well, I certainly wouldn't have fought; but what I should have donewould, I suppose, have depended upon circumstances. I suppose I shouldhave jumped overboard if I had the chance."

  "And is it true what Captain O'Connor was saying, that you had to dolike the other pirates on the island?"

  "I don't know that there was anything particular they did, except toget drunk, and I didn't do that."

  "He hinted that the rule was that each man had to take a wife from thepeople they captured."

  "What nonsense!" Ralph exclaimed indignantly. "The idea of my taking awife. You mustn't believe what Captain O'Connor says, Miss Regan;except, of course," he added slyly, "when he is saying pretty thingsto you."

  "I think you will do, Mr. Conway," the girl laughed, "Six months inIreland and you will be able to give Captain O'Connor points if you goon as well as you are doing. You have paid two very nicely-turnedcompliments in ten minutes. But there, our dance is finished."

  "May I have another later on, Miss Regan?"

  "Yes. Let me see; I am engaged for the next five. You can have thesixth if you like, if you haven't secured my aunt for that."

  "You are getting on, Conway," Captain O'Connor said as they drove awayfrom the Regans. "I have had my eye upon you. Three dances with PollyRegan, beside taking her down to supper."

  "It was too bad of you putting me on to her aunt in that way."

  O'Connor laughed. "It was a capital thing for you, youngster, andpaved the way for you with Polly; who, by the way, is not such arespectful niece as she might be. But she is a very nice little girl.I had thought of making up in that quarter myself, but I see it's nouse now."

  "None at all," Ralph said seriously. "We are not actually engaged,you, know, but I think we understand each other."

  "What!" Captain O'Connor exclaimed in a changed voice. "You are notsuch a young ass as to get engaged before you have joined threemonths?"

  Ralph burst into a laugh. "That's good," he said. "It is not often Iget a rise out of you, O'Connor."

  "Well, you did there fairly," the captain admitted, joining in thelaugh. "I thought for a moment you were serious."

  "No," Ralph said. "I may make a fool of myself in other directions;but I don't think I am likely to in that sort of way."

  "Prior attachment--eh?" Captain O'Connor asked quizzically.

  "Ah, that's a secret, O'Connor," Ralph laughed. "I am not going to laymy heart bare to such a mocker as you are."

  When they reached the village they found a body of twenty men drawn upopposite their quarters.

  "Is that you, O'Connor?" the lieutenant asked as the trap stopped."Just after you had gone the gauger came in and requested that a partymight accompany him at three o'clock this morning to hunt up a stillamong the hills. I am glad you are back in time, as I did not likegoing away without there being any one in charge here. It's anuisance; for it is just beginning to rain. However, it can't behelped."

  "I will go if you like Desmond," Ralph said, jumping down. "I shouldlike a good tramp this morning after that hot room."

  "Are you quite sure you would like it?" the lieutenant asked.

  "Quite sure. Beside, it's my turn for duty this morning; so thatreally it's my place to go with them, if Captain O'Connor has noobjection."

  "Not the least in the world, Conway. I don't suppose Desmond has anyfancy for tramping among the hills, and if you have, there is noreason in the world why you should not go."

  A couple of minutes sufficed to exchange the full-dress regimentalsfor undress uniform, covered by military greatcoat, then Ralph hurriedout just as the excise officer came up.

  "We are going to have a damp march of it, Mr. Fitzgibbon," Ralph said.

  "All the better, sir. There will be a thick mist on the hills thatwill hide us better even than night. There is a moon at present, andas likely as not they will have a boy on watch. Are you ready, sir?"

  "Quite ready. Attention! Form fours! March!" and the little partystarted.

  "How far are we going?" Ralph asked the revenue officer.

  "About seven miles, sir. It's about half-past three now; we shall bethere somewhere about six. It does not begin to be light until seven,so there is no particular hurry."

  "I hope you know the way, Mr. Fitzgibbon? It is so dark here I canscarcely see my hand. And if we get into the fog you talk about itwill be as black as ink."

  "Oh, I know the way," the officer said confidently. "We keep along theroad for two miles, then turn up a track leading up a valley, followthat for three miles; then branch to the right, cross over one or twoslight rises, and then follow another slight depression till we arewithin a hundred yards of the place. I could find my way there with myeyes shut."

  "That sounds easy enough," Ralph said; "but I know how difficult it isfinding one's way in a fog. However, we must hope we shall get thereall right. Sergeant, have the men got anything in their haversacks?"

  "Yes, sir. Captain O'Connor ordered them to take their breakfastration of bread, and he told me to see that their water bottles werefilled; and--" (and here he moved closer up to Ralph, so that heshould not be heard by the men) "he gave me a couple of bottles ofwhisky to mix with the water, and told me to fill the bottles myself,so that the men shouldn't know what was in them till they had theirbreakfast; otherwise there would be none left by the time they wantedto eat their bread. He is always thoughtful the captain is."

  "That's a very good plan, sergeant. I shall bear it in mind myself forthe future. They will want something before they get back after afourteen-mile march."

  The fine mist continued steadily as they tramped along; but the nightseemed to grow darker and darker. They turned off from the road; andas they began to ascend the track along the valley the cloud seemed tosettle round them. The excise officer walked ahead, keeping upon thepath. Ralph followed as closely as he could in his footsteps; butalthough almost touching him he could not make out his figure in thedarkness.

  "Tell the men to follow in single file, sergeant," he said; "keepingtouch with each other. As long as we are on the beaten track we knowwe are right, but there may be bowlders or anything else close by onone side or the other."

  Marching as closely as they could to each other the party proceeded.

  "How on earth are you going to find the place where we turn off, Mr.Fitzgibbon?" Ralph asked.

  "We shall find it easy enough sir.
The path regularly forks, and thereis a pile of stones at the junction, which makes as good a guide asyou can want on a dark night. We can't miss that even on a night likethis."

  Ralph had struck a light with his flint and steel, and looked at hiswatch at the point where they turned off from the road, and he did thesame thing two or three times as they went along.

  "It's an hour and twenty minutes since we turned off, Mr. Fitzgibbon.Even allowing for our stoppages when we have got off the path, weought to be near the turning now."

  "Yes, I fancy we are not far off now, sir. I can feel that we arerising more sharply, and there is a rise in the last hundred yards orso before we reach the place where the road forks. We had better go alittle more slowly now, sir."

  Another five minutes there was a stumble and a fall in front of Ralph.

  "Halt!" he exclaimed sharply. "What is it, Mr. Fitzgibbon?"

  "I have fallen over the pile of stones," the officer said, "and hurtmyself confoundedly."

  "Don't you think we had better halt till daylight?"

  "I think we can keep on, sir. The nearer we get there the better; andif we should miss the path we can halt then and wait till daybreak."

  "Well, we can do that," Ralph agreed.

  "I will go on ahead, sir, twenty or thirty yards at a time and thenspeak, and you can bring the men on to me, then I will go on again. Itwill be slow work, but I can keep the path better if I go at my ownpace."

  Ralph agreed, and they proceeded in this manner for some time.

  "I don't think we are on the track now," Ralph said at last.

  "Oh, yes, we are," the officer replied confidently.

  Ralph stooped and felt the ground. "The grass is very short," heobserved, "but it is grass."

  The officer followed his example.

  "Oh, it is only a track now," he said. "Just a footpath, and the grassis not worn off. I am convinced we are right."

  "Well," Ralph said, "just go a little way to the right and left, andsee if the grass gets longer. It seems to me all the same."

  The officer did so, and was obliged to own that he could not perceiveany difference. Ralph now spread his men out in a line and directedthem to feel on the ground to see if they could discover the track.They failed to do so, and Ralph then ordered them together again.

  "We will halt here, sergeant, till daylight. It's no use groping aboutin the dark. For anything we know we may be going exactly in the wrongdirection. The men can of course sit down if they like; and they mayas well eat a piece of bread and try their water-bottles. But tellthem not to eat more than half their ration. We may be longer beforewe get out of this than we expect."

  The order was given, the men piled their arms and seated themselves onthe short turf. Presently Ralph heard a sudden exclamation of surpriseand satisfaction as one of the men tasted the contents of hiswater-bottle, and in a minute there was a buzz of talk. Before scarcea word had been spoken; the men had been marching in a sort of sulkysilence, disgusted at being taken from their beds for work theydisliked, and at their long march through the damp night air; buttheir satisfaction at this unexpected comfort loosened their tongues.

  Pipes were produced and lighted, and the discomfort of the situationaltogether forgotten. Desmond had handed to Ralph the flask and packetof sandwiches he had prepared for himself, and he, too, felt lessstrongly the chilling effects of the damp and darkness after partakingof them. The excise officer had also made his preparations.

  "We should be more certain as to our whereabouts if we had stopped atthat heap of stones as I proposed, Mr. Fitzgibbon."

  "I don't deny, sir, you were right as it has turned out; only Iwouldn't have believed that I could have missed the path, and I didwant to get close to the place before we were observed. I knew that wecouldn't actually surprise them till morning; for the hut lies somedistance in a bog, and there would be no crossing it unless we couldsee. Still if we could have got to the edge without the alarm beinggiven, they would not have time to hide the things before we reachedthem. I have ridden across this place many a time after dark, andnever missed my way."

  "That was the sagacity of your horse more than your own, I expect,"Ralph said. "A horse can find his way along a path he has oncetraveled better than any man can do. In the first place, I think hecan see better in the night; and in the second, he has some sort ofinstinct to guide him. However, I don't suppose it much matters; weshall find the path easily enough in the morning. And, as you said,the mist will hide our movements quite as effectually as the darknesswould do."

  At last the morning began to break in a dim misty light, and as itgrew stronger they were able to perceive how dense was the fog thatsurrounded them. At three paces distant they were invisible to eachother.

  "It does not seem to me that we are much better off than we werebefore, so far as finding the path lies. What do you think?"

  "It looks bad, certainly," the officer admitted reluctantly. "I amawfully sorry I have led you into this mess."

  "It can't be helped," Ralph said. "We must make the best of matters.At any rate it's better than it was, and the mist is not nearly asheavy as when we were marching up that valley."